Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien save for the characters not mentioned in his works.

"For there is nothing lost, that may be found, if sought."

~ Edmund Spencer, The Faerie Queen

CHAPTER TEN

T.A. 2788

18 years later . . .

Nogoth shifted uneasily in his seat as Nuil gazed at the fire in the hearth. His fingers curled around the wooden armrests tightly. She had been doing that more often than late. Her hazel eyes glued to the flickering flames, unhappiness near palatable. It wasn't her gazing that bothered him. It was the fact that she refused to speak about . . . well, what happened.

He remembered it like it was yesterday. Nuil returning home to them, looking more like a beggar than a little girl. Her clothing was tattered, ripped and torn. Her skin coated in layers of dirt, and the deep unsettling sadness that lingered in her eyes. She had been fifteen winters then. After receiving word that Erebor had fallen to Smaug the dragon, there had been no hope of seeing those who had lived there again. Finding Nuil had been both a happy blessing and a burden.

She wasn't their little Nuil anymore. She was their silent and watchful sister. Solemn. Nuil was like Noledhe, he thought with a frown. Their eldest brother never really took part in much merriment like the rest of the brothers did. But they had lost four brothers, so there was little merriment that was to be had. The pain of never being able to see Nurgon hurt him deeply. The loss of his twin was terrible, but paled in comparison to Nuil as she was now. He wished that he had never agreed with his father. Erebor was the worst decision that Nolen had ever made.

It had also scarred his sister. Along the right side of her face ran a pale scar, from her eyebrow to her jaw. It lay near her hairline, almost unseeable to anyone. Yet it was there. Nogoth's eyes narrowed as her hand reached up and traced the scar.

That's it.

"You're doing it again," he murmured. Nuil glanced lazily over to him, dropping her hand. She said nothing as he sighed, setting down his whittling block and knife. "You wanna talk?"

Nuil looked at him, her eyes telling him that she would rather not. She pulled the blanket around her shoulders tighter. She hardly spoke to them, and he was the youngest in age to her, so he knew he could get some conversation out of her.

"Noledhe will not let you leave until you talk about it," Nogoth reminded her. She sighed in annoyance.

"Like he tries,' she muttered. "Hasn't stopped me before." She saw Nogoth's jaw fall slightly agape. Nuil shrugged. "He's never around."

"Nuil," he said warningly. She looked away, a ghost of a smile touching her lips. Nogoth drew in a sharp breath. He hadn't seen her smile since she was little, perhaps she was getting better? "Just one thing, please . . ."

Nuil looked sadly at him. She knew what he wanted. As much as she hated mentioning it, Nogoth was the last thing she had to compare to the brothers she lost. The most alike. It almost hurt looking at him, he looked so much like Nurgon. "I think they fought valiantly," she said quietly. "I know not how they-" she swallowed, "-died."

Just mentioning it sent her heart pounding. Her brow began to sweat. It felt like she was back there. The heat and darkness she had woken to. Alone. Completely and utterly alone. As she had lain in the rubble she had heard the rumble of the dragons laughter, the clattering of gold. Fourteen and alone with a dragon. Her fingers dug into the rubble as she dragged herself to what had once been the entrance of the mountain. Piled high were the crumbled doors and green stone work she had so loved. A tiny whimper escaped her throat as she lifted herself to her knees.

Bodies. Bodies everywhere. Some burned others completely charred, crushed by rock, half burned. The smell rose to her nose, like meat gone bad.

But the gates weren't completely sealed. A shaft of light came from the top of the stone pile, a beacon. Slowly, she climbed the rocks, her cuts stinging. The right side of her face numb with pain. Nuil blinked away the memory. A horrible nightmare that she would relive at night, brought to the surface just by speaking of it. Nogoth's eyes were wide, his knuckles white as he slowly stood to his feet.

Then he was hugging her.

He bent his head to whisper in her ear, "thank you."

"Twas nothing," she replied, struggling to keep the emotion out of her voice.

Nogoth chuckled. "Now I finally know why you lock yourself in your bedroom for days on end."

Nuil pulled away, "this means I can officially leave now." And suddenly she felt some relief, the pressing weight on her that had followed her since that day.

T.A. 2789

She was in the Shire, wandering through the small village of Hobbiton. Nuil ignored the plainly obvious stares of the shire-folk, as she weaved in and out of the vendors stalls. Her fingers trailed over the floral patterns on the bolts of fabric, the produce from farmers, and woodwork of carpenters. It was so blessedly peaceful.

Springtime brought the flowers. Alysum, lantana, roses, peonies, morning glories, all kinds. This place just radiated peace. Even though she was stared at, talked about behind hands, and whispered about, they really were a good folk. The barman at the pub didn't seem to mind her, he had even took the time to speak with her after closing hour. She grew to know these hobbits, their ways and life, through a kind hearted barkeep who didn't mind that she was a stranger.

As she stood under their party tree, a great oak towering above, she lifted her face as the wind pulled at her braided hair. Nuil felt so at peace here, and did something she hadn't done in nineteen years.

She smiled.

T.A. 2790

It was not often that she found herself shocked. Even surprised. This most definitely surpassed anything she would have thought she would have seen that day. Noledhe had charged her with getting their weapons to a smithy, as they rested and tended to Nedoheen's wounds from a small skirmish with a pack of wargs not ten miles away.

Yet, pounding on a red hot piece of metal in the forge, stood one dwarf she never thought she would see ever again. Ever. His dark black hair spilled down past his shoulders, unbound. His beard was trimmed, full but not grown like the long full ones of dwarrow she had seen in her travels. Sweat dripped from his temple down the length of his nose onto the metal, sizzling. His brows were pulled together in concentration, strong arms tirelessly swinging the hammer. He looked fearsome, even with his tunic sleeves rolled up. Even without the regal garb of a prince, he still looked the part of a prince.

Nuil knew her mouth was slightly agape, and snapped it shut. Her heart pounding away within her chest as she gazed at him. With effort she forced her eyes to find the owner of the forge. The man was bent over a worktable, sleeves rolled to his elbows. His back was to her, and she knew better than to approach unannounced.

"Ruven!"

The man turned, when he spotted her a wide grin split his face. His brown hair, wild and curling, was held from his face with a thin cord of leather. Ruven whipped his dirty hands on his leather working apron, walking towards her where she stood in the doorway.

"Lady Nuil! It is a pleasure to see you, especially so early in the season," he said kindly.

"The same," she replied. "I'm afraid I am here only on business." She lifted the four swords in her arms, eager to be rid of their weight. "These need to be sharpened."

Ruven picked up Nogoth's, pulling it from its sheath and testing the blade with his thumb. He frowned slightly, when it came away unscathed.

"This is very dull," he murmured. "What have you been doing? Hacking at trees?"

Nuil smirked. "Perhaps."

Ruven gave her a stern look, setting it on the table and checking each blade in turn. Nuil rested her hands on her hips, waiting until Ruven set her blade with the rest. He shook his head. She knew he was uneased by the wear on the weapons.

"They will be sharpened and ready in three days, if that suits you," he told her. Nuil nodded.

"It does."

"I will have my new hand help, seeing as I am busy with a project. May he touch your blades?" Ruven asked. He knew that her brothers were protective of their weapons, and she smiled appreciatively. He had always treated their family well in their business dealings.

"He may," she replied. Nuil turned her gaze to the dwarf, finding his blue eyes locked on her. He looked almost as if he was seeing a ghost, hammer paused above the metal rod. She nodded to him. "Thorin, son of Thrain, it is good to see you."

Hearing her voice addressed to him seemed to draw him from his stupor. He swallowed quickly before replying, "Lady Nuilweyil, it is good to see you well."

Nuil turned to Ruven, smiling at his surprise. "I will return in three days, Master Ruven." She turned and left the smithy, heart pounding as she hurried to return to her brothers at the inn.

Ruven turned to the dwarf, a frown on his lips. "Her name is Nuilweyil?" The dwarf did not respond, merely returned to his work. His strokes became more fierce, and his brow furrowed. She was alive. After all these years of thinking that Nolen's family had perished within Erebor, she was suddenly standing before him.

Three days later the four siblings stood in the smithy. Nedoheen was standing stiffly next to his sister, watching Noledhe. They wore no smiles as they were presented their blades, cautious eyes scanning their weapons. Finally Noledhe nodded, fastening his belt around his waist.

"This is fine work, Ruven," he said quietly. A frown crept onto his face when the smith nodded, yet his eyes were on his sister, Nuil. Yet Nuil seemed oblivious, more focused on her weapon than anything else.

"I would take your thanks Lord Noledhe, yet it is not I that worked the blades," Ruven replied. He gestured towards the dwarf to his left. Noledhe squinted his eyes, trying to make out the features of the dwarf. Finally his brows rose.

"We are well met, Thorin, son of Thrain," he said reverently. "It has been many years."

Thorin bowed his head, but remained silent. His fists were clenched behind his back, clenched firmly.

"I see that Thorin is well acquainted with your family," Ruven said. Interest laced his voice as he looked from Thorin and the four siblings. Nedoheen glared at the smith, eyes hardening.

"I do not see how it concerns yourself, Master Smith," he hissed. Noledhe shot the younger a stern look and stepped towards the smith. He was quick to change the topic, sensing his brothers growing ire and the mans growing interest.

"If I may speak to you of payment, Master Ruven," he said quickly. Ruven nodded his head, glancing briefly at Nuil before guiding Noledhe into the front of the shop. Nogoth and Nedoheen followed, leaving Nuil with Thorin in the dimly lit forge. She slowly raised her eyes to him, studying him silently before speaking to the dwarf prince.

"How are you?" Nuil asked Thorin. She was very aware of how blatantly rude the question was. One did not ask the grandson of a king such things. She looked away, moving her eyes to the floor. He was looking at her face, and more importantly, her scar.

"Well," came his deep reply. Nuil raised her eyes as she heard his feet moving over the dirt floor. Thorin had gone back to his station, seeming to intend on beginning his work once more. She watched as he picked up a pair of tongs and a long bar of metal. "And you?"

Nuil almost felt herself recoil at the question. It was not often that she was faced with it, and she really didn't know how to respond. Was she well? Nuil knew that she was not well. She was able to speak of Erebor now, but only for a little while. The nightmares still plagued her sleep, and the mention of dragons sent chills down her spine and her heart pounding. There was always the laughter of a dragon ringing in her thoughts when she even dwelled on it.

"Well," she replied. However the dwarf-prince had seen her hesitation, and had turned to face her. His face was serious, lips turned downwards. Nuil wanted to leave, he had seen her hesitation and knew she was lying. Nuil didn't bother to speak, focusing on the horseshoe by her feet. She had seen the flicker of anger cross his face at her reply.

"Your parents?" he questioned a moment later. Nuil raised her eyes, seeing that he had set his tools down. She swallowed thickly, trying not to let her eyes tear up.

"Fell in- . . . Erebor," she managed to say, voice breaking. Nuil took a deep breath and leveled her gaze on Thorin. She could be strong just this once, she could talk about it without the pain. "My brothers fell. I alone escaped."

"My condolences," Thorin said, gazing at her in- what looked to be pity. That made her angry. She did not need Thorin's pity. But there was also an underlying look of shame. She knew he was remembering the last time he saw her, and she him. "Nurgon fought by my side, he died with honor."

Nuil felt her face pale, and panic bubbled in her chest. The desire to let her knees give out was overwhelming, to let a sob tear from her lips. She was saved from responding by her brother, Nogoth. He rested a hand on her shoulder, sensing her distress. Yet he addressed Thorin, gratitude shining in his damp eyes.

"Nurgon was my birth brother," he said to Thorin. "My heart is gladdened to hear that he fell valiantly. You have my thanks."

Thorin bowed his head to Nogoth. He had seen the brother approach, and yet he did not know that the two were so closely tied. He had regretted his words the moment Nuilweyil's face paled. She gave him a warm look, however, with those wonderful hazel eyes, so far from the fear he had once seen in them.

"Come, sister, we bid our leave," Nurgon said to Nuil. The two siblings bowed their heads to him and went towards the front of the shop where Noledhe and Nedoheen waited. Ruven ducked out the door the moment she entered. Nuil frowned gazing after the smith.

"Is Master Ruven unwell?"

"Put in his place," Nedoheen growled, glaring after the man. "He seemed to think that sharpening our blades made the most opportune time to ask for your hand in marriage."

Nuil's jaw dropped slightly, and she slowly regained her composure to give him a knowing look. A faint blush colored her cheeks. She was well . . . flattered to say the least. "I take it you declined the offer?"

"Aye," Nedoheen replied. "He will not bother you again."

"He never bothered me, Nedoheen," Nuil muttered annoyed. "I saw him as a friend. We have lost a good and trusted smith now with this, I am sure you threatened him." She glared at her brother.

"Worry not," Noledhe said. "Ruven will stay as out smith, but now he will look for a wife in another. Too long has he watched you."

Nuil groaned, "let us be gone then."

"Very well," Noledhe said, leaving the shop. Nogoth and Nedoheen followed with slight grins on their faces. She sighed and made to follow them, before being stopped by a voice.

"Nuilweyil."

Nuil turned as she heard her name called. Thorin stood in the doorway of the forge, tongs gripped tightly in one hand. "When do you leave?"

"Tomorrow."

"Safe journey, then," he replied. He wanted to say more, yet the words would not form on his lips. She was a far cry from the young girl he had once known. She was a woman now. There was no denying that she was pretty. Not a rare woman of beauty, but a beauty in her own right. Bright hazel eyes, a smooth but firm jaw, dark brown hair falling past her shoulders, and a kind yet tired face.

Nuil smiled slightly. "Many thanks, Thorin, son of Thrain. Should fate bring us together again, I look forward to our meeting."

And then she was gone.

Well, there we are. I think this was a lovely chapter. I know it jumps around a lot. I also added more to it, because I too have noticed how short my chapters are getting, so I spent some time adding to it. I definitely will be going back to chapters and adding more to make them longer and give more details to the story overall.

In T.A. 2788 Nuil is 32 years old. When she meets Thorin again in T.A. 2790 she is 34 years old. He is ten years older than her, so he would be 44 at this point. I just wanted to let anyone know this so that it sort of puts things into perspective. (I have the years of birth for every character, so I know how old they are :) )

Special thanks to my reviewers!:

Comics4theFeels, MoonCrown, The Penned Tekrid, IceheartsChill, Sam0728

Yeah, I also noticed how short the chapters were getting and had a freak out moment last night. I about scrapped the whole thing but then I took a deep breath and began editing and adding. Plus I realized some things that I wanted to add, so I must thank you all, you are life savers! Without it I probably would be giving you 'flat' chapters. Now I'm super excited for the next chapter!

BATTLE OF AZANULBIZAR! Can you tell I'm smiling? Oh, and tell me what you guys think of Nuil so far!

Read and Review!

~filimeala