Chapter Two:

Jewel of the Mountain. It was the title that Aerchkaleya had been given by Thorin. And it drove her absolutely insane. She hated it, because Thorin had given it to her not as just a name, a honorary title or something insignificant. It was a position, a royal title, and everyone treated her as such. What made it worse was that she was a woman, and a particularly small one to the dwarves. They all treated her as if she were some breakable china doll, never letting her do any work, always trying to fetch her things. She hated it, more than anyone could imagine.

But, before his departure, Gandalf had reminded Aerchkaleya that in the dwarfish culture, it was customary that women were protected and cared for, as they were rare. And that as difficult as it was for her, it would be an insult to the dwarves if she refused the title or their treatment. So, she had suffered in silence, allowing them to treat her as if she could shatter in the blink of an eye. Every once and a while, she wondered if Gandalf had told them to treat her this way, then told her to be nice and accept just as punishment for being, well, Aerchkaleya.

As the months passed, her nerves began to fray. She wasn't some useless creature, Fae or no. She was as sturdy as any dwarf, despite her size and appearance. The caravans from the Blue Mountains came with dwarves, some returning to their home others arriving in their new one. The joy and warmth and relief that they brought was what kept Aerchkaleya calm. And the energy and life within Erebor again reminded her why she hadn't gone back to a slumber in a gem.

She was getting more agitated, though, and the excitement and happiness of dwarves arriving home could only help for so long. On Thorin's order, she was never allowed outside her rooms without a guard. Quite frankly, she had a hunch that he was still irritated with her not telling him anything more after leaving the treasury, resorting to cryptic answers and changing the topic all together. But the order to not allow her around her own mountain with just her thoughts kept her in her room quite often.

It was at month nine that everything came to a head. Aerchkaleya had attempted to sneak out of her room without a guard, only to be intercepted by them. All she wanted was to walk around her mountain, see what needed help and who was about. But she couldn't do that, and it was the straw that broke the oliphants back, metaphorically speaking. All hell broke loose.

"That is it! I have absolutely had it!" Aerchkaleya stormed past her assigned guards, throwing her hand up as she did. When the guards attempted to follow her, they found it quite impossible to move, and looked down to see their feet had been encased by the stone of the floor. All they could do was watch as their charge stomped down the halls of the royal wing and out of their sight.

The brunette woman brushed through the crowds of Erebor, now filled with life and quickly on its way to become the magnificent and envied kingdom it once was. Though, it didn't matter to her at the moment. Her presence, however, didn't go unnoticed, and quickly, guards were rushing towards her, only to suffer the same restraint their fellow guards had back in the royal wing.

By the time Aerchkaleya had reached her destination, she had successfully incapacitated almost every guard within her mountain, all currently chipping at the stone around their feet. If she weren't so irritated, she might be a bit amused. The walkway she stopped at was one of the few that the citizens of Erebor avoided on purpose. Because it passed by an ominous door, that had no path to it, no visible or known one anyhow.

It stood alone, a door that no one knew what it lead to. With no apparent path to it, the only way to reach it seemed to be a bridge to be built to it. None had existed, even before Smaug, and the stories about it still flittered about. That it was a secret dungeon, or that there was a Balrog imprisoned behind it. None of which were remotely true, or even close for that matter. It had no path because it didn't need one, Aerchkaleya didn't. It was her room, her original room. When Durin the Deathless ruled under her mountain.

Heavy footsteps were rushing towards her, but she made no move to stop them. Despite having been awake for almost a year, it was still a strain to use as much magic as she had to restrain the other guards. She was tired, she just wanted to be alone, in her rooms, her real rooms. She hadn't used much magic and to use what she had in such a short period… her bed, her soft bed. And the gems and crystals that grew in her walls, sparkling and dancing colors over her walls.

Her judgement was impared, both from her fit and the exhaustion starting to set in. Aerchkaleya had spent nine months playing by their rules, letting them treat her like something she wasn't, ignoring her own culture and habits. They weren't things she had ever had to do, not before. It took more of a toll on her than she would ever care to admit, not to mention the large burst of magic. That wasn't something she would admit either.

Before Gandalf had left, with the dear little hobbit she had quite enjoyed, he had reminded her that she had never been a favored Fae, and her recent bout of archery wouldn't exactly win her favor, either. So, she and refrained from using any kind of magic, hadn't answered many questions, she had been a good little Fae, much to her disgust. That, coupled with everything else, it was affecting her negatively. It made her want her old room, and she took a step away from the walkway.

Two arms grabbed her, wrapping themselves around her and pulling her against something warm and firm. The small girl let out a small whine, but faded quickly, letting out a nearly silent 'hmph', before her eyes shut and her breath fell at an even, slow pace.

Beautiful, it had always been beautiful, her mountain. Before dwarves had been allowed to dwell within, before a city had risen beneath. Before any elves or dwarves or Men or hobbits, before Sauron and the war, before orcs and goblins, before anything, there had been the Fae. Created from the spirits and souls of mountains and rivers, trees and meadows. Almost everything had a Fae, every tree and river. The few that didn't, they had become known as Ents, and the few mountains who had had become the Stone Giants.

But the Fae had spent several decades being the only creatures in Middle Earth, until the Elves had arrived. That hadn't been what could be considered a joyous welcome. While the Fae who were of Trees and Meadows got along with the new race, the Fae of Rivers and Mountains clashed with them, disagreeing more often than not. But, to be fair, before the elves, The Fae of Rivers and Mountains had a tendency to be at odds with the Fae of Trees and Meadows. Aerchkaleya and her sister, Aephaerylia, were particularly disagreeable when it came to elves. Aerchkaleya of the Lonely Mountain, they called her. The ever lonely one, who was always on her own, refusing to allow anyone into her mountain besides her sister. Aephaerylia was more agreeable, allowing other Fae to visit on occasion. Aephaerylia of Moria, though she was as rocky as the cliffs of her mountain.

The sisters kept their distance from not only elves, but other Fae as well. While they were all family, related in one way or another, Aerchkaleya and Aephaerylia were unique in that they were the only two Fae created by Aule and his wife, Yavanna. While the other Valar had created armies worth of Fae, Aule and Yavanna spent years creating their two Fae children. And it showed. The other Fae would follow orders and tasks from their creators without question and in groups, Aerchkaleya and Aephearylia would always question their parents, always wanting to have a reason. They refused to not know why they did what they did.

When Aule awoke his dwarves, Aerchkaleya insisted that no dwarf was allowed within her mountain without being tested and proven. Aephaerylia, however, quickly requested of her father that Durin be allowed to reside within her mountain, and it did not take long until the Fae of Moria declared that Durin the Deathless to be her One. Aerchkaleya personally thought it to be silly, but the pure joy and adoration she saw in her sister's eyes when she was around the dwarf, or simply mentioning him, kept her from voicing her opinion on that particular matter.

And so it went, while Durin and his people built a great kingdom within Moria, Aerchkaleya remained in her mountain alone. As Men began to scatter across Middle Earth, those who dared approach the Lonely Mountain soon learned that it was not just a simple story from the Elves that a disagreeable Fae lived within. For quite a time, Aerchkaleya would keep everything far from her mountain, leaving her to sulk and hide in her mountain, unwilling to admit her jealousy of her dear sister.

It wasn't until disaster struck that Aerchkaleya reemerged from the Lonely Mountain. A Balrog, an essence of evil, driving not just the dwarves from Moria, but her sister as well. With no hesitation, the Fae of the Lonely mountain called for her sister, her One, and his people to find a new home in her mountain, in Erebor. As they made their way to her, she excitedly began to shape a city within, preparing to not only have her sister beside her, but her father's creations, and she knew he was particularly proud of Durin.

And so it was, from the loss of Moria, came the mighty kingdom of Erebor, and soon, the Lonely Mountain was called such not because of the Fae within, who lived alone, but because it was a single, solitary peak that made the smaller mountains around it look like jagged hills. Aerchkaleya was happy, as Erebor became a bustling empire, thousands of dwarves moving about. While Aephaerylia became Queen Under the Mountain beside Durin, King Under the Mountain, Aerchkaleya was soon known as Heart of the Mountain. She was royal in her own right, though never acted as such.

She would wander about the markets, play with the children that always knew where to find the Fae, and tell them stories of the Time Before, before elves and dwarves. She would tell them tales of the other Mountain Fae, the playful River Fae, and the skittish, cowardly Tree and Meadow Fae. Aerchkaleya loved the wonder and excitement her tales brought the young ones, and soon, every day, mothers would take their children to the Center, where the Heart of the Mountain was always there to watch the children and play with them.

It was wonderful. For years and years, Aerchkaleya watched children and watched them grow to be the strongest and smartest, the most talented and brilliant of all dwarves, bring pride to the kingdom, and the Mountain. When it was announced that soon Aephaerylia would give birth to an heir, the kingdom celebrated, with Aerchkaleya leading it. It wasn't the first celebration over a future niece or nephew either. As the kingdom grew, as well as everything in Middle Earth, Erebor's King and Queen watched three healthy, strong, handsome sons grow.

And then it came, the Great War. The Fae were called, and Aerchkaleya insisted that her sister remain in Erebor. She told her that the mountain needed her, that she couldn't allow her nephews to be without their mother. And so it was, Aephaerylia remained in Erebor, protecting her people, while Aerchkaleya fought alongside the rest the Fae, watching her kin pass to the undying lands one by one as they gave up their Light, to fight the darkness of Sauron.

Aerchkaleya returned home fast, realizing the battle was moving closer to her Mountain and home. Her return was not a happy one, and she learned soon that even keeping her sister in her Mountain wasn't enough; Aephaerylia had passed to the Undying Lands after giving up her Light, her life source, to protect Erebor from an attack.

She mourned the loss of her sister, along side Durin and his children, along side the Kingdom. As the rest of her kin fought and gave up their Light, Aerchkaleya remained within her mountain, protecting it and the people within.

Her choice was one that changed everything; in the last battle, those left of the Fae gave their Light up all together, completely driving back Sauron. Except Aerchkaleya, the Fae were gone from Middle Earth. Alone, she was alone, no longer one of race of power, just the simple Fae left in a mountain, ever mourning her sister. And soon, the throne was passed to Daephrin, her eldest nephew, as his father joined her sister and his mother.

As life continued, Aerchkaleya remained, alone, unable to find the joy she once had in telling tales to young dwarflings. Generations came and went, and soon, she was no longer the beloved aunt, or story teller, she was the Heart of the Mountain, the morose Fae who roamed about.

Finally, she could no longer stand it, watching everything continue while she stayed frozen, missing her sister, Durin, and life before the Great War. With the blessing of her great-great- and however many more greats nephews, if they even were, she slept, burying herself deep into the mountain as a gem and sleeping, while continuing to make her mountain a treasure trove of precious metals and gems for the dwarves she still loved beneath her sorrow.

It didn't take long for the tales of Aerchkaleya fade away, and soon, she was forgotten, no one remembering the Fae who had taken Durin's Folk under her protection. Only stories of the first Queen remained, and even those skewed, that she was a lone Fae, and then that she was simply an odd dwarf.

When they uncovered the Arkenstone, no one remembered that the stone wasn't just that, but it was a Fae, the literal soul and heart of the mountain. Instead, the king named it, proclaimed it his gem. And with Aerchkaleya still allowing her magic to feed the mountain, to make it rich, her presence uncovered fed the Dragon Sickness that claimed Thror. She remembered watching the dragon drive her dwarves away, but before she could awake to protect them, she was given a message; that the fall of Erebor could not be stopped, that the dwarves must wonder and find a new home, for the events that followed would create a great king, a king to make history.

And it had happened, Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, reclaimed Erebor, making history as the dwarven king whose Company defeated a dragon. Aerchkaleya would have returned to sleep for another long while. Until the wish. A creature, a creature of her mother's creation, called to her, beseeched anything or anyone to protect the line of Durin, that he feared the worse in the outcome of a battle.

Aerchkaleya answered his wish, awaking and calling on magic to allow her to sense which enemy was to land the deadly blows the wisher had feared. Her mountain was safe, and it would become a great kingdom again, but she was still alone, all alone. Being given royal status again had isolated her this time around. People were kind and polite, but they treated her as if she were different. Aerchkaleya didn't want to be different! She had tried, to respect their culture, she really had, but decades and centuries of being alone had taken a toll.

Authors Note: Alright, this one is kind of filler in a sense, but it is giving you a background of Aerchkaleya and how she became the Arkenstone kinda...

OH! and someone asked and the way to pronounce her name is: AR-KAY-LEE-UH or you can pronounce the 'uh' as 'ah' whichever you prefer.

And since I already have the next several chapters done... how about I'll post Chapter Three after I get... five comments? Because I do wanna know what you guys think!

AND AND AND (yess there is more) I need OC's for Fili definitely, and I've decided that I need one for Bofur, Nori, Ori, and Bombur. If you are interested, message me:

Name of OC:

An established relationship or start a new one:

Brief Description:

Personality:

Race: (human dwarf elf etc.)

Where they live:

and I'll let you know if I need anything else! Oh, and if your a guest who wants to be one, leave it in the review