Author's Note: I've been a little slow on updating and my chapters have been shorter, I know. I've been trying to get Lina to go where I want her, but she's being stubborn. So I made a video while I was thinking. Go to Youtube and search for "Lady Firehammer." It should be near the top as "Lady Firehammer-I Will See You Again." Check it out and let me know what you think.

Date: TA 2802

Thorin: 56 years old

Lina: 53 years old

A large fire crackled in the hearth of the king's hall. Though the hall was neither splendid nor designed for royalty, it served its purpose. King Thrain held court among his few loyal followers. Their numbers had dwindled over the past two years. Barely one hundred and fifty dwarves still pledged loyalty to Thrain.

Lina looked about the sorry gathering. The poverty they were living in had taken its toll upon their numbers. There were no new children among them, nor had there been in the previous ten years. The last child born had been at the start of the War of the Dwarves and Orcs. The dwarves were barely able to fend for themselves. They could not afford to take care of a youngling as well. There was no hope for the band's survival in Dunland, not as small as they were.

Thrain rose from his chair, surveying his followers. He had aged far beyond his years. His bearing was still regal, but he appeared frailer than he had before. The murmured conversations fell silent.

"You have all suffered much for the sake of your people," he began, "I can ask no more of you than what you have given me. For the past two years you have all struggled beside me to make our living, but to no avail. Our numbers have fallen. We can no longer survive in this place. There is nothing for us to mine, nothing for us to smith, and nothing for us to survive on."

The king paused, watching his followers. Lina, like the others, simply nodded. This was not new information to them.

"Since the fall of the ancient dwarf city of Belegost in the First Age, none of our kind has dwelt there. The mines may yet be good. There may yet be sustenance for our people there. I and my family will journey there, to seek our fortunes rather than beg for aid from our kin in the Iron Hills as so many before have done," the king continued.

At his words, Lina felt a tiny spark of hope appear in her heart. For so long the dwarves she dwelt with had been without hope, of anything. Now there was hope for them. She looked about her and saw the same spark kindled in her companions' eyes.

"Who will join us?"

In answer to the king's question, the whole host rose with a shout. They had grown tired of this hopeless existence. Even the prospect of a little wealth was enough to entice them on the journey.

A smile lit the king's face for the first time in many months. He called for the dwarves to be ready within the week to leave Dunland. With that, they were dismissed.

Lina followed the example of the other dwarves, starting to pack away her few belongings for the coming journey. She had little enough to pack. The tools from her forge were the most important, being her only livelihood at the moment. Those would have to wait to be pack until closer to the time the dwarves would leave. Armor might still need repairing.

Her armor came next, such as it was. Most of the dwarves had been forced to selling their best armor simply to survive. What they possessed now was barely enough to protect them against glancing blows. No one, however, had been willing to sell their weapons. Lina ran her hand along the handle of her massive hammer. It had been some time since she'd used it in battle. In fact she had not used it in a true fight since the Battle of Azanulbizar. It had received little use in the past year and a half. Six months had passed before she had healed enough to wield it again.

A few things would have to be left behind, things that were too heavy to carry without a cart or pony of which the dwarves had neither. Lina and Thorin would have to use other forges they encountered along the way as they simply could not build their own on the road. Nor could they carry some items like the anvils. This journey would require them to take only what they could carry.

Lina moved from the forge to her own small dwelling. She carefully began stowing away anything she wouldn't need immediately in leather packs. A few clothes would have to remain out for the time being, at least until the dwarves were ready to leave. Most of her personal treasures, items of little value to anyone but her, were wrapped carefully in the packed clothing. After a moment she realized just how empty of things her life had become. Most of the objects in her dwelling she had no desire to take with her. They were there purely for use, and had little value to her. What few items she truly valued, she usually wore.

A yawn escaped her mouth, making her realize just how tired she was. With a sigh, Lina put aside her packing. It could wait. She shrugged her leathers off, and crawled into her bed wearing a loose tan shirt and leggings. The candle was snuffed out, leaving the room in darkness. Within moments, the exhausted dwarf was asleep.

The sound of a hammer woke Lina far too early the next morning. Grumbling in annoyance, she slid from her bed and padded across the room to enter the forge. Pulling open the door, she was temporarily blinded by the firelight from the forge. When her eyes finally adjusted, she spotted Thorin pounding at the heated pieces of a sword needing to be reforged. His presence puzzled her. It was rare for him to be in the forge this early.

As she approached, she saw the darkness in his eyes. His brow was heavily furrowed and his lips were set in a hard line. Tension was in every part of his muscular frame. Lina stood quietly, waiting for the prince to notice her. It would do her no good to shout for he would not hear her. Trying to touch him when he was this agitated would not be wise, especially with the focus he had.

After a minute, Thorin glanced up to see her standing there. He set aside the hammer and thrust the sword into the coals to soften further before turning his attention to Lina. Not a word escaped his lips as he gazed up impassively at her.

"What happened?" Lina settled herself cross-legged on the edge of the table.

"My father wishes me to marry," he answered flatly. His eyes were distant as he spoke.

An icy hand gripped Lina's heart at his words. Could the king force the prince to marry?

"He can't force me, of course," Thorin continued, answering Lina's unspoken question. "He simply expressed a desire to see me wed."

Lina remained silent, letting Thorin continue as he chose. She had learned long ago that pressing for more usually made him close himself off from her. On this subject, the subject of marriage, Thorin was most reticent. Lina had never brought it up to him, of course. That would have been foolishness on her part. Still, she'd often heard him mention his father would be happy when Thorin finally took a wife.

"My father has already begun thinking up the names I should bestow upon my sons," he added with a bitter laugh. Sons. Lina was pierced by that word. Thrain would truly never be happy if—and that was a remote "if"—Thorin took Lina as his bride. Without the ability to bear sons, Thorin's line would end. The continuation would rest solely upon the shoulders of Thorin's sister, Dis.

"Have you found no one that could satisfy your father's desires?" Lina queried finally.

"To satisfy him? No." Thorin caught Lina's gaze and held it. "However, I have found someone to satisfy me."

He rose from his stool and drew closer to her. Lina felt her heart begin to beat wildly as a strange look appeared in Thorin's eyes. She'd never seen such a look before. He was uncertain, she could see that plainly. There was love, something she had grown used to seeing from him. Then there was outright terror. That was the look she'd never seen before. He'd been nervous on occasion, but never as scared as he was now.

"Lina, I want you, and only you. If I cannot marry you, then I do not wish to marry at all," Thorin murmured, drawing her down from the table until she stood before him.

Lina was taken aback. Thorin had never mentioned he was interested in marrying her. Not until this moment. Her mouth opened and closed in shock. Thoughts tumbled over one another as Lina tried to make sense of his words. Was he saying he wanted to marry her?

"You realize I could never give you sons, or children of any sort," she answered slowly. Her eyes met his. A pained look crossed his face, but he did not look away.

"I know." The words came out haltingly. The idea of never having any children to carry on his line, not even a daughter, was a terrible thought for him. His hands flexed around hers. The tension was beginning to return.

Lina freed one hand from his grasp and placed it against his cheek. The pain in his eyes tore at her heart. So much was expected, was required, of him. The plans everyone had for him, the plans he had for himself, did not include her. They couldn't include her. He would reclaim Erebor from the dragon and become its king. There was no place for the daughter of a nobody, especially one who could not bear children. She had resigned herself to this long ago.

Thorin covered the hand on his cheek with his own. His eyes closed as he held it firmly in place. For a moment they stood silently like that. Then he slid her hand down his cheek and kissed the palm. His breath was warm against her hand, rushing across her skin is short, quick puffs. Lina felt the change in him as his breathing slowed and deepened. Thorin's eyes opened, determination shining.

"We can't go on pretending there's nothing between on," Thorin said firmly. "I won't go on pretending."

Lina tilted her head to the side, a small smile dancing over her lips. The determination lit a fire in his eyes that had been extinguished for far too long. Whatever he was intending, it involved her and it was a good thing.