Disclaimer - I, in no way whatsoever, own any of the canon characters, places, or things found in this story. All belong to Tolkien, and I make no profit.

Boisterous laughter, a ruckus caused by merry fools with too much ale in their bellies, carried through the rickety boards below her feet, and it found her ears, muddled and foggy. The building was old; she could feel the tiny splinters of wood with her toes as she paced along the groaning floor. Patience was not a strength of hers, and as the minutes ticked by, she considered using other means to make the stubborn dwarf appear, but ultimately restrained. He deserved some time with his friends, a moment of celebration and respite before the final push of his quest. She would not do anything to alter or ruin that for him, and she did not need to give him any other reason to be angry with her.

Yes, if she had to wager, Thorin was already displeased with her. Admittedly, she had taken the coward's way out the last time that they had crossed paths. She knew dwarves to be a straightforward bunch, and Thorin had proved that to be the case—in all things. There was no chance that she could misconstrue his intentions; he had been quite bold, as he should be. Committed, passionate, strong...these were all traits valued in a mate, if she had been looking. It had been too much for her to deal with—his easy acceptance of feelings and an absolute candor mixed with physicality that she had not experienced ever, in all of her centuries. There had been no real opportunities, and no living thing had dared been that close to her. In retrospect, she could have sought out companionship of some kind, but she had rejected it out of many things, including fear.

Nerves rarely plagued her; she was normally sure in her actions, confident that she was making the right choices. But tonight, she questioned why she found herself waiting in a room in Lake-town. It hadn't come as a surprise that Thorin had managed to simultaneously entice and incite the humans of the Long Lake; their existence was one of squalor compared to their ancestors. They had given him needed supplies, and she knew he would leave at morning's first light for the final leg of his danger-filled journey home, one that even she, for all her power, could not stop. Before that happened, she would see to it that their debt was settled.

Footsteps, moving down the hallway, and she froze, waiting for the door to open. He stepped in, gait unaffected by the ale she assumed he consumed. He found her instantly, like any warrior worth his salt would, and his eyes widened in recognition, but he made not a sound, the only noise the door creaking shut behind his forceful shove.

"Leave," he commanded, shoulders squaring in determination.

His reaction was to be expected, and she tried to temper her response. "I will, once you and I conduct our business."

A cackle, dark and dry, bounced off the stone walls. "What business? If I wanted a woman in my bedroom tonight, there were several downstairs who were more than willing."

The callous words hurt, for reasons that she did not want to dwell on. "No female with any respect would lie with a devaluing prick who measures her worth in minutes spent on her back." She paused, letting it sink in, and sneered in contempt, "But, those whores in the hall would probably have you."

His eyes narrowed angrily, but she wouldn't give him the pleasure of responding. The coin appeared between her fingers, and she held it out as a stern reminder. "This is the business we have. It's time to collect my boon."

"Good. Then we can be done."

"Yes, if that is what you want."

"It is, now."

"Thorin...I…"

"Spare me, Aisa. I don't want your pity."

"You don't have it. But, you do have my apology. I did not want this."

"You can keep that, too."

Instinctively, she reached out, her magic seeking and finding the cords in his throat. Just the slightest pressure, enough to disable and not injure, though she wondered why she still cared at this point. "You have probably forgotten," she started, "just how much I admire silence in dwarves…"

He opened his mouth, and when no sound came loose, he lost it. Charging recklessly, she recognized the frustration and sidestepped him like an angry warthog. "If you wish to act like a wild animal, then I will break you like one."

Trembling, with rage she was certain, he seemed to have caught enough clarity to realize his folly, as he stood without movement. The air resonated with his frustration; it permeated the space between them, and she realized then just how strongly he really felt about her. It had been much easier to discount his affections as skin-deep bravado, to believe that his words were borne out of infatuation and lust. The passion he displayed now, whether based in love or loathing, disapproved all of her convenient notions.

"I think we both know who would win in a fight, Thorin…"

He turned slowly to face her, mouth clamped shut, staring at her with absolute disgust in his eyes. She continued, "But, I have no desire to do so."

She motioned, arms outstretched, and brought her fingers together like she was connecting the air between them. "I would also rather speak to you without arguing."

"You would only win because of your magic," he sneered.

She laughed, the absurdity of his statement hitting her. He scoffed, "It is a crutch."

"So you say," the nerve of this dwarf never failed to both amuse and annoy her.

"It is what I have seen, Aisa. It is ever present, you are always relying upon your powers. You can't even have a simple argument without using it to bully everything to your liking."

"You had no complaints when it saved your arrogant hide twice over."

"No, but I was not your target then."

A grin spread across her lips, "You really believe that I am nothing without my magic?"

One nod, he gave, curt and exaggerated. She sighed, "Then, I should prove to you otherwise."

A flicker, and her robes were gone, replaced by simple gear and a sword. She moved to the window, eyeing the jump to the ground below. She looked over her shoulder, "Follow...if you wish."

The hurdle carried her over, and her boots crunched into the soil as her body rolled with the impact, flipping through the air. She looked up to see him staring, almost gaping, and she jerked her head and smiled. A grunt behind her confirmed he had followed, and she bolted, giving him no quarter. The night air was cool, and it had been far too long since she had run, her lungs sucking in every breath. The walks were mostly deserted, and she moved towards the outer edge of the town, slowing once she crossed the bridge. Here, alongside the crossing, rocks rose out of the shallows, and the locals usually fished in this area. She heard him arrive behind her, "What are you…"

Removing the satchel she carried, she stooped to pick up a discarded spear from the bridge and climbed carefully over the edge, stepping down onto the closest foothold. "Many, many years ago, in a time before your ancestors were even infants, I lived without magic and off of what Middle-earth provided."

Her eyes skimmed the water, adjusting to the darkness. Lifting the weapon, she waited, watching patiently, as she knew that her prey would be few at night. A flash and her arm moved, the spear head clanging against the rock, her first strike a miss. She heard his laugh and grimaced as he spoke, "Did you live well?"

"I survived."

She brought the spear back up, waiting again until she saw another opportunity. An orange streak, barely visible at night, and she lunged, flinging the weapon down. This time, when she retrieved it, she had a fish. She tossed it on the pier, "Magic is not a necessity for survival, but tenacity and luck are."

He shrugged, "One fish proves nothing."

She ignored him as he eyed her reaching back for the bridge, and he moved, too fast, grabbing her hand as she placed it on the wood. "You really have no powers?"

"For now," she admitted, "Sometimes, it is nice to relive and remember a simpler existence."

Before she knew what was happening, he lowered his shoulder and pulled her up, throwing her over his. She screamed despite herself, sounding entirely too giddy. He carried her down the bridge and onto the quays as she protested while kicking him, "Put me down! So help me, I will..."

He complied as he tossed her off the landing, into deeper water. The cold splash hit her, stealing her breath, and she realized her bearings, spinning to find her tormentor standing dry. "That was for the stunt you pulled in the dungeons."

The smug little smirk that he wore had to go, and she nodded, wiping the water from her face. She swam toward the pier, pausing at the edge and reaching up, offering a hand. She hoped his chivalrous side would force him to take it as she acquiesced, "I deserved it…"

He reached for her, and when they connected, she threw all of her weight back, causing the dwarf to go off balance. She held on with both hands as he toppled over, his husky form tumbling into the water behind her. She laughed loudly as he sputtered, his eventual chuckle joining hers. She turned to him, and in the reflected moonlight, she would have thought that he was the magical one. Wet curls clung to his face, his blue irises shining, and she knew, knew that she needed some space, now. Her tongue tripped over the words, "Race you to the shore?"

She didn't even wait for an answer. She took off, long breaststrokes in the direction of land. The water's surface glistened like silver, and she pushed as she heard Thorin approaching, ever closer by the sound of the splashes. No matter her effort, he swam past her, and he stood on the shore mere seconds in front of her. Winded, she could barely get out the words, "Impressive, dwarf."

A broken laugh, punctuated by heaves, "Now, I know for sure that you have no magic. There is no way that you would have let me win otherwise."

She smiled while standing, dripping water onto the muddy shoreline. The chilly air caused goosepimples to rise on her flesh, and she sighed, wishing she could simply conjure a fire. But, she had come entirely too far with this challenge to throw it away now. So, instead, she did her best to wring out the excess water from her clothes, as she shivered slightly.

"Ready to use that magic of yours yet? I know you can conjure an easy fire."

No, she most definitely couldn't cave. She would sooner freeze to death than use a spell, but luckily, she had another solution. She smiled sweetly at him, "So that I can prove your point? No, I think not. Gather some wood. I'll be back."

She left Thorin shaking his head and wandering for kindling while she fetched her pack and the fish from the not-too-far bridge. When she returned, he had managed to find a decent stack, and she removed a flint stone from her bag. After some time and several unsuccessful attempts, she managed a small flame, that she slowly and deliberately fed until it blossomed into a campfire. She had noticed her companion's silence, and she looked at him, catching him in a stare as he watched her work. Grinning, she spoke, "If you want to enjoy this fire, I suggest you find some more fuel for it."

That seemed to get his attention, as he left back into the wood to search again for more dry timber. She stood, removing her still-damp pants, arranging them flat on the ground next to the fire. Luckily, the bottom of her tunic covered her to mid-thigh, and she sat carefully back on the ground, close to the warmth of the flames. Opening her bag, she took out a knife and began carefully removing the scales from dinner. Not long after, Thorin returned carrying more branches for the fire, and she tried not to laugh as his eyes grew large at the sight of her discarded pants. Satisfied with her work, she started roasting the fish, slowly turning it in the flames. "You hungry?" she asked.

He nodded, "You have no idea."

Inhaling, she tried to ignore the obvious implication as he stared openly at her naked legs. He pulled his shirt over his head, wringing out its excess moisture, before depositing it next to the fire. Thorin was never one to back down, and she knew that his actions served two purposes, equal parts survival and temptation. Unfortunately, it worked, as she took her eyes away from dinner long enough to admire his chest, broad and rippled with muscle. She may not need magic, but right now, she needed more restraint. They shared the fish that she had caught in amiable silence, eating it carefully while spitting out the bones. When they finished, he stood, feeding more twigs into the fire before speaking, "I was wrong, Aisa."

She smiled, "It's okay to doubt, Thorin. It is rather easy to default to magic, and I needed the reminder."

"Your reminder isn't finished," he motioned with his hand for her to stand. "Spar with me."

Raising an eyebrow, "Really?"

"If you're worried, I can pull my punches."

"Don't you dare."

To her feet, quickly she moved, her arms coming into position. Eyeing each other up, she waited to see if he would move, and when he deferred, she swung, connecting with his stomach as he grunted, stepping back. He had underestimated her, and she smirked, "Are you going to let a woman kick your ass?"

"No. That was your one free shot…"

They exchanged blows, careful to connect but not cause serious harm. With each parry and swing, she felt her exertion growing, the previous run and swim already taxing her. With magic, she could have easily taken care of the pain, but now, she reveled in it, letting it drive her further into exhaustion. A right hook left her shaky, and her balance gave way, stumbling slightly but just enough to give him an edge. He grabbed her arm, using her own energy against her as it carried her forward, and he spun her, bringing her back against his chest. Hand over her throat, he ordered, "Yield."

"I do."

Gasping, she felt his other hand travel from the hold across her chest, down her hip, and unto the bare flesh of her thigh. "So easy for you to do, in battle..."

Her elbow connected against his ribs, and he crumpled over at the waist as she stood over him. She cooed, "Thinking with the wrong head again."

He laughed, "When it comes to you, always."

She sighed, walking away from him and back to the fire. His words had irritated her; she did not understand why he had to cross these boundaries. "Why continue to push this, Thorin? Is my friendship not enough?"

"It is. I am sorry, I just…"

She looked at him, and he continued, the aggravation there to hear, "I can't change what I feel."

She nodded, his frustration all too familiar. "We can't change, Thorin. You are who you are, and I am who I am. There is no changing how you feel, and I can't change the fact that you will go up that cursed mountain tomorrow…"

"You wish me not to?"

He sounded genuinely surprised, and all her anxiety bubbled in her voice, "What I wish is irrelevant. You will climb Erebor tomorrow because you must."

He approached her slowly, like a hunter moving in on his prey, "Answer the question, Aisa."

"No."

"Why?"

"I fear for you, and for what I suspect will come to pass."

Hurt, deep-rooted and festering, it caused him to raise his voice. "Afraid to lose your favorite pawn? Is that why you came tonight to collect your debt? You don't want to lose your bargain?"

"No! That's not it…"

"Then what, Aisa! Don't tell me that you care now, when all along you have made it perfectly clear that my value to you was only as an 'asset'."

Pride goes before the fall and she had no dignity left when it came to him. Tears burned in her eyes, her emotions unchecked by the power she usually wielded. She crumbled, the island of isolation that she had marooned herself on over millennia finally sinking after months of his constant erosion, "If I could change one thing, it would be that lie."

She reached for him, her resolve gone. Her fingers found his hand, turning it over, putting it against her silent chest. "What I feel for you, is beyond a simple affection, but that matters not. Many, many years ago, I could have been what you deserve in a lover, Thorin."

"You are what I want, Aisa. Now, here, tonight."

Her head shook out of reflex, but he knew she was wavering. He pushed, "If you really believe that climbing Erebor could be my end, then what does it matter? Grant me this final wish…"

Gods help her, she was considering it, and he had no idea just how close he was to the ears that needed to hear his benediction. Her fingers reached up his arm, stroking it gently, "What if I am wrong?"

"Then give me a reason to return."

Rough, his fingers made contact with her cheek, and she whispered another fear, "I don't know that I remember how…"

He chuckled, "You seemed to do well enough in Thranduil's dungeon…"

Rolling her eyes, she couldn't help smiling at him, "Take me back to your room, Thorin."

He moved on her, so fast that she leaned into him trying to balance herself. His lips were against her neck, moving, and she groaned, hands fisting his hair. He murmured against her flesh, "Room? Not going to make it there. I'm not giving you a chance to change your mind."