Chapter One:
No one was quite sure what to do at that moment. So, there they all stood, thirteen dwarves and a hobbit, staring at a strange female, who was sleeping quite soundly atop a pile of gold that had once been slept upon by a dragon.
Thorin thought that the cloak underneath her was familiar, but after several days of being feverish and in a great deal of pain, he wasn't exactly sure.
She was lovely, they all had to admit, albeit incredibly unique and strange in physical appearance. While no one could be sure, it appeared she was only about the size of their hobbit-burglar, and very slim. In fact, most of the Company if not all would have thought her an elf if it were not so obvious she was barely their size.
But, despite her size, it was glaringly obvious she was no dwarf, nor a hobbit for that matter, and most definitely not of the race of Men, she was far to pretty for that, yet, she was far to small to be an elf. The silk chocolate locks that fell gracefully around her sleeping visage proved that she was no leaf-eater by revealing small, unpointed ears. In fact, everything about her was small. Her hands, her feet that were bare, her stature, her nose. She was, overall, quite delicate yet there was a faint air about her that made you wonder for a second if she could be dangerous despite the appearance. Much like the arrows, Thorin thought to himself.
And then there was the strange markings that dusted over her skin. They were light and blended in to her fair skin, but with her still figure it was easy to make them out. They were simply flecks of color, pale blues and light reds, nearly translucent golds and diluted greens, all the colors of the gems and precious metals of Erebor really. As strange as they were, they made her even more beautiful in physical appearance.
The silence was broken when Ori breathed out, "She's the archer."
All of them glanced at the scribe before looking closer, wondering how he could have deduced that. It was then they realized that the girl wasn't just there defenseless, and Ori was quite right. A bow laid less than an inch from her fingertips, and the quiver right beside it still had a few arrows. All were the color of the purest gold, delicate and intricately decorated upon closer inspection. And the same, untainted and pure, white feathers.
The days after the battle, the stories had spread of the archer who saved not only the King with a golden arrow, but his sister-sons as well. And it wasn't silly a rumor, apparently. The archer responsible for saving the line of Durin lie in front of them, sleeping peacefully.
"Aerchkaleya! Of all the times and places you choose here and now to be sleeping?!" The company nearly jumped out of their skins at the booming echo of the wizards voice. Ori himself toppled over with a rather un-masculine yelp, Bofur dove behind his oversized brother as a shield, and Dwalin had his battle axe raised and ready to attack. The only one to not yell or jump or both in some form was Bifur, who wasn't even paying attention to the strange girl, rather was studying the remains of a column a few feet away.
The noise, however, did rouse the girl. As she sat up, the dwarves watched, entranced by her liquid movement. It was if she had control over every single molecule of her being. Her arms stretched gracefully over her head, allowing the silky, chocolate locks to tumble elegantly down her back and onto the gold she was still perched upon. Her lips parted slightly as she yawned, managing to make the simple reflex look complex and intricate. The pale pink lips that seemed to have been sculpted for her and her alone, closed in an equally elegant manner and finally, her eyes opened.
The entire company was practically hypnotized by them, even Bifur who had returned to the group. They were a pale yet vibrant blue, and the dwarves could have sworn they were carved from the purest sapphires in all of Arda for her eyes alone. Everything about her was stunning and graceful, it was mesmerizing. Her head tilted to the side, her hair swaying with the motion as she looked at the group in front of her, and it only took a moment for her lips to curve into a gentle smile. The female inclined her head towards them, her eyes flicking down in respect for a moment before she moved her attention to the wizard, who had moved around the company and near the girl.
The girl- Aerchkaleya, apparently, smirked a bit and spoke for the first time in the company's presence, "I do choose. Though, you did wake me up, my friend." Her voice was gentle, smooth, though not as high pitched as one would have assumed. It was a bit lower than most female voices, but not enough for someone to think a male was talking should they not be looking at her.
Gandalf chuckled as the girl stood, her legs lifting her body with liquid grace, and she hopped off the pile of precious metal, turning to the company. It was quite amazing, how easily she moved with such pure grace and precision. Even the elves didn't move as easily or as elegantly as she did. As she stood in front of them, it became quite apparent she was about their size, a bit shorter, more the height of their hobbit. But none the less, she was beautiful, despite having nothing of dwarfish beauty standards; she had no facial hair, she was slim, her nose was small as were her hands and feet, and her skin was smooth and, well, perfect.
The dwarves and hobbit were removed from yet another trance as Gandalf spoke, this time to the company, introducing the female, "I would like you all to meet Aerchkaleya, one of the last of the Fae left in Middle Earth, guardian and heart of The Lonely Mountain."
The dwarves faces went from entranced to shocked in a matter of seconds. The girl in front of them was a Fae? The Fae were that of mythes and children's tales, having been thought to no longer exist. It made sense though, she did look too perfect to be anything else. The stories of the Fae told of impossible elegance in movement, voices so unique and beautiful they could send any creature into a trance, bodies that looked as if an artist had spent a thousand life times working to perfect just a single Fae.
Gandalf cleared his throat, startling the dwarves and hobbit from their shock, and it was Balin who connected the dots first, asking cautiously, "Heart of the Mountain?" Quite honestly, he wasn't sure if he wanted his deduction to be right. He knew the Arkenstone only brought despair and misfortune to Durin's line, but it had to be impossible. A stone, no matter how powerful, couldn't be human, let alone a Fae. But, if somehow this girl was the Arkenstone, maybe her being, well, alive, maybe it would put an end to the Dragon Sickness it had cursed the line of Durin with all those years ago.
Aerchkaleya smiled gently once more, inclining her head towards the eldest dwarf among them and answered him, "I do believe for quite a time, I was called the Arkenstone."
For some reason, no one was quite sure why, hearing the girl in front of them claim to be the Arkenstone made them all highly defensive. Aerchkaleya didn't react in the slighted, a smile still gracing her face. Gandalf, however, was more concerned with the reaction, well aware that the claim sounded quite insane really, though no one had any other explanation to the girl. Stepping forwards, moving himself closer to the dwarves and ahead of Aerchkaleya, he told the Company in a strong voice, "Aerchkaleya is the soul and guardian of this mountain, she would never do anything detrimental to it or it's peop-"
"My people." Gandalf turned to look at the girl who had interrupted him. Her face had changed, very determined and strong. Tilting her chin to look a bit better at the wizard, she informed him and the company, "The Dwarves of Erebor are my people. I picked Durin and his people to reside within my mountain, and they came under my protection. And I will always protect them, I swore to him that his line and his kingdom would continue as long as I. I have never broken that promise."
Thorin stepped apart from his group and questioned her harshly, "Then why is it that the people you claim to be yours were forced from their home by a dragon? That their king was beheaded while trying to find them a new home? That we were turned away and distrusted by all? If you promised to my ancestor to protect his line, my people, why did you not come to our aid when Smaug claimed this as his horde?!"
Even Gandalf was worried by the kings reaction, they all were, except the Fae who had moments ago claimed to have been protecting the people of Erebor. She was calm, her face softening a bit as she answered easily, "But you survived. The dragons attack was a horrible thing, as was the loss of Thror. But they were necessary."
The dwarf was still glaring venomously at the woman in front of him, and spat out, "Death and exile are never necessary."
The brunette stepped forward herself, her features still showing a calm demeanor and her body relaxed as she defended her point, "They are not wanted, but sometimes they are necessary for a leader to rise. You would never have stepped up to become the great king if you had never lost your kingdom, your grandfather or father. I am sorry for that, Thorin Oakenshield, but they were things I had no say in. It had been decided long before you."
Gandalf sighed in the background, shaking his head. Aerchkaleya was much to open with the dwarves, she had always been that way, telling them the things they asked, never hiding anything, unless it was absolutely necessary. And even then, she would try and make up for the fact she couldn't be honest with them, over-exerting herself to create a vein or two of mithril for the dwarves. Something she had been scolded for by the Valar and her parents too many times to count.
Thorin didn't realize just how much she was telling him, and continued to push, "Decided by who?"
It was then Gandalf decided he couldn't allow it to continue in his presence. If Aerchkaleya told them more after he gave his warning and left, he could do nothing about it. But not while he was still there. She had said far too much already. Clearing his throat, he placed a large hand on the Fae's shoulder and ended the dialogue between king and Fae, "Decided by those stronger than you, Thorin Oakenshield, and those stronger than Aerchkaleya or I. Now, I think it best you return to the others, I'm sure Dain is looking for you and others as well. We shall join you in a moment."
As much as no one wanted to leave the matter nor leave Aerchkaleya with Gandalf, they all caught the clear warning in his voice; the woman who had saved Thorin, Kili, and Fili, had already said more than she should have and any more talk of any of it would get them all into trouble. Gandalf watched the Dwarves and Hobbit leave, before looking down at the Fae and telling her, "I cannot make you sleep again, I know that. But I can ask you say less to them of matters they shouldn't know of. It isn't always the best thing for them, and I can only hope you listen to me now, for THEY are running out of patience with you, Aerchkaleya."
The small girl sighed, dropping her head, but nodded. He was right, she was used up most of their patience with her, she was sure now that she had interfered with the battle days before, they had none left with her honesty towards the kingdom she proudly protected within her mountain.