Sorry for the delay! I have started a new job and since it is away from my home I have a hard time making it to a computer! But I am writing! This chapter focus' on some plot elements that I feel will have a lot of influence on the final bit of the story. As always, let me know what you think!

In the training room Asta was back to wearing her weights but this time her knuckles were wrapped in bandages and she punched and kicked at a thick bag that hung from the ceiling. Once again she failed to notice someone coming into the room and after several minutes of watching, he spoke up.

"That's an interesting fighting style."

She jumped in surprise and defensively turned to him, fists raised. She was unsure how Balin's reaction to her affected his brother, and although she lowered her fists, she did not lower her guard.

"Lord Dwalin. What can I do for you?"

"You can tell me what you were just doing, lass." He looked around the room gazing at the equipment. "I'm familiar with most of this, but not that." He pointed at the bag.

"You weren't supposed to see that."

"Oh? Why not?"

"It's a style from the future."

"Well its too late now, might as well tell me. It's not as if I can learn it from watching for as long as I did."

She hesitated. "Boxing. You use bare fists and legs to hit particular parts of the body to both attack and defend."

"Interesting." He examined the punching bag, "Why is that more effective than another method?"

She said nothing, just watched him as he moved around her, his hulking body far larger than hers, and his intimidating tattoos that made her cringe at the thought of the process.

"Well, lets see it then." He moved to the centre of the room. She watched him as he went and was unsure what to do. "Come on then."

"You don't fight women."

"Most women aren't like you."

She went in front of him and tensed her shoulders, put her fists in front of her face and her elbows pointing to the floor. She kicked with her right foot but he ducked out of the way. She spun and punched him in the stomach, which caused him to bend at the waist with a short grunt. He attacked now and she blocked with her fists as he tried to punch her head. She then with rapid motion punched both of his sides, one after the other. They went on for a time, but when her breathing got heavy, he stood up and said, "Sit with me."

She grabbed some cloth and wiped her face and neck of sweat, placed her weights in their chest then joined him. When she sat with him he was a head taller than her, if not more, and she had to look up rather far. This let him see the marks on her neck, red and glowing.

"Why did you let that elf lord attack you like that? You could have hurt him if you wanted."

She contemplated her answer for a bit then very honestly said "Lord Vehiron is very quick and strong. I doubt I could've hurt him then, escape maybe, but he would have only punished me further, later."

"Does this sort of thing happen often? I mean at Rivendell there was your bow, now this."

"No, not often. Just sometimes when I out stay my welcome."

He in took air deeply and shut his eyes, he smiled a bit. His smile was a simple one. It was small and easygoing. "You remind me of someone I used to know."

"Really, why is that?"

"More so you are what I wish she could have been. Strong, just, kind, despite your past. Resilient, and I can leave you to fend for yourself."

"Is she a dwarf?"

"She was a dwarf, yes."

Asta waited and wondered if she should pry further and decided that she might as well. "Who was she?"

He stood up and walked to the centre of the room again, where fading light came down from the roof, illuminating him as he looked to the sky. He seemed to be struggling in a very subtle way. She had almost given up on an answer when he spoke. "My daughter." This stunned Asta, she had no idea that Dwalin had a daughter, or that he had suffered due to her, but the fact that she reminded him of someone so precious, gave Asta hope.

"Smaug took her and my wife from me."

She came to a firm understanding of him then, determination was a word to describe how someone with ambition or a goal in mind acts; this word did not hold a candle to Dwalin's passionate hate for Smaug and his desire to reclaim Erebor.

"I'm so sorry." She stood now, but dared not reach out to him.

"You look like I imagine she would too, at your age." There was pain in his voice but he remained with his back to her, and he stood solid.

"You are strong Asta. In more ways than one. Don't ever forget that. No elf, no human," he paused, "no dwarf, can ever take that away from you."

He was close to her now, and he was frightening at this distance. His stare was impenetrable and serious. His tattoos were incredible and his bulky frame was bigger, taller, wider than Thorin's.

"I won't." and as she turned to gather her things, Dori came into the room.

"Gandalf has returned."

Dwalin stood behind a petrified Asta, who was staring at Dori. "Come lass, I'll walk with ya."

She clutched her clothes to her chest, then decided she would rather Bilbo not yell at her again, so she threw her shirt over her head. She stepped out and Dori and Dwalin followed her. Strange that she should worry about Bilbo's opinion about decency now, although not so strange. She would rather leave on a high note. She set her hand against the wall, not for balance, but so she could feel the walls as she passed them.

Outstretching her fingers, she dragged them along behind her, feeling every groove and rivet in the surface. Her feet were uncovered and she let the balls of her feet drag across the wooden floor, every plank a chasm. She looked up at her light holes, dark and empty as the light left the world. "Mithrandir!" Sidhion had called out. It was loud in her ears and echoed, possibly because everything else was so quiet. She suffered that hallway, its length, its darkness and how it closed up behind her, forcing her out. She stopped just outside Gandalf's sight. Dwalin placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, and without looking back she stepped back so they could see her. Dori and Dwalin joined the rest around the fire, where Thorin hadn't moved and Kili had returned. Vehiron and Sidhion figured the situation by the reactions of those in the room, but they did not leave. Asta stood, straight, strong and stiff like the boards beneath her feet.

"What news?"

"I think you should sit Asta," Gandalf pulled out a chair for her.

"No, I think I won't." he gaze never faltered.

"Very well." And he himself took up the seat. "I have sought council with Queen Galadriel, and a verdict has been made."

Bilbo stood and went to Asta's side, grabbing her hand in his. She squeezed it. Kili was unsure of what to do so he held his hands in front of himself nervously. Ori clutched his drawing book to his chest; he couldn't bear to stand. Nori was surprisingly present and was smoking a pipe that he now removed from his lips in waiting. Bombur was sitting, his back to Asta, Gandalf and Bilbo, unable to look at them. Balin, Dwalin, and Fili were at attention, ready for the worst. Thorin remained sitting, next to Oin and Gloin who were by the entrance and staring intently. Bifur was unsure of what exactly was transpiring but the serious tone resonated with him while Bofur sat with his head in his hands.

"You shall live."

A roar came from the dwarves, all were smiling, clapping each other on the back, and Bilbo hugged Asta, although she did not rejoice or even move.

"What's the matter lass?! You get your life!" said Bofur proudly.

"This only means that death was too kind." They grew quiet again, "That something in my life is worse than losing it."

"This is true." Gandalf nodded.

"What is my punishment."

Gandalf looked around the room. She was visibly upset, and her friends were so curious that he wondered if it would be wise to speak of it here. She stood up so proud and free of restraint that he felt it did not matter.

"I'm to take your magic."

"And do what with it?" Sidhion asked rather forcefully.

"Is it painful?" Asta asked.

"Not particularly."

"What will become of me?"

Sidhion began to speak in Sindarin to Gandalf. "What will you do with it Mithrandir? I warn you, the king will not like this. If any harm were to come to her, he would act upon it."

"Duty as always Sidhion." Gandalf retorted in elvish "This has been decided by two guardians of Middle Earth. King Thranduil has no voice among us." Sidhion sat, bashful now that the wizard had stood his ground.

"Pa-pa. You're being rude. Not all of our guests speak this language." Asta spoke in elvish as well.

Gandalf mumbled under his breath, in the way that he did when he did not wish to say anything to the contrary but without giving a full opinion at all. He continued in the conversation in the common tongue. "I will take the magic and fuse it with the Greenwood."

"In what way will this serve as punishment?" Asta was getting impatient and angry. She had asked for equality, and she was being given special treatment.

"You will be linked to the forest, should the Greenwood fall, so shall you."

"And what if I die?" he paused for a moment to look into her eye, she was calming, but she was still livid.

"You will only be an additional shield against the forces that attack it now. If you die, it will be as if a rabbit loses its tail. It can still function without you but is better with you."

"I suppose my days of travelling are over."

"You may go anywhere you wish, but if the forest should fall, it will be your doom."

She lifted her head to the roof and closed her eyes. She beamed; this wasn't special treatment, because now, even if she was to ever earn the love and respect of either of her people, she could not stay with them. "I am the guardian of this forest then?"

"In a way, yes. Radagast will always be the guardian, but you will be a protector."

"Well, this is almost favorable." She looked around the room, joyous and cheerful, "It's not as if I had anywhere to go, so there is little lost in making the Greenwood my permanent residence. I am glad to serve it."

"Remember, my child, that the Greenwood is sick. I have even heard people call it Mirkwood as of late. I feel a dark power growing, and I think I should look into it, while we are here."

"Agreed." Kili stood up, his voice so sure. When Asta turned to him he nodded at her.

"Agreed." Said Asta.

Dori stood, "Then lets have supper to celebrate!" to which there was much agreeing. Dori was down the hall and quickly brought back ingredients with a jolly smile on his face. The dwarves made a most excellent feast of salted roast, dinner buns, cheese-covered potatoes and other starchy vegetables so that the elves would leave instead of linger in the kitchen. As Thorin passed Asta to eat he patted her back, and gave a small smile, much like Dwalin's, and it made her feel light, and happy again. They all ate in merriment while Dwalin and Bilbo relayed the story to Vehiron and Sidhion in detail from their escape of the goblin caves to the coming of the house. It turns out that Bilbo is quite the storyteller, and had a great many voices for the goblins and the things that happened. Vehiron was thoroughly unimpressed and Sidhion was just the opposite. When dishes were done and a suitable amount of time had passed, Gandalf nodded at Asta.

"I need a large room."

"The training room?"

"Yes that will do fine. You will be very weak the next few days." He turned to the dwarves; "I'll need someone to carry her from this room."

Asta began protesting when Dwalin stepped forward. "I'll carry you lass." He nodded at her sternly, he wasn't offering, he was telling her. Balin's expression was warped with rage as his brother moved to the girl's defense.

Gandalf led Asta and Dwalin out of the common area and down the same hallway that had shut Asta out only hours ago. Dwalin waited outside while the wizard found his words. A light grew brighter, and brighter from under the cracks and through the window, then in a moment, was gone as a pound hit the floor. Dwalin waited for Gandalf, then entered the room, and carried an unconscious Asta down the hall. The company watched eagerly as he set her upon her bed and made way for Oin. Oin allowed himself into the room, then he added some salve to her cheeks and arm. Thorin watched the reaction of his comrades and he began to understand that she was more than just a place to stay in the Greenwood, but rather was entering their lives quite forcibly. He understood why his grandfather had denied them access to Erebor, but when he saw her struggle, he couldn't help but feel that some of their struggles were similar. He now knew he could not ignore this woman forever, nor could he ignore how well their fates intertwined. To him it seemed that she had a part to play, and it would happen whether they liked it or not.

Asta slept for three days, and in those three days Thorin's wounds were healing to a manageable state. In those three days many discussions were had about travel and where to go from there, and who would be joining them. Gandalf had already come further than he had expected to have and he had his own business to attend to. The dwarves, although accustomed to darkness, were uncomfortable with the state of the forest and its destruction, so they knew they wanted to make it through in haste. They could feel the forest changing and hear strange sounds; creaking through the wind and rapid running that resounded through the soil, like a heard of deer. Despite the unsettling nature of the forest and the serious conversations that came and went, there were also moments of quiet and even silence.

Bilbo stayed by Asta's side for most of the day. Oin would periodically come in and tend to her, then without a word, leave. Sidhion would often come entertain Bilbo and they would tell stories of Asta at different parts of her life. The time she and Bilbo had promised to marry each other, or the time that Prince Legolas had defeated her, so she put a pail of water on him one morning when he was late to practice. They also told sad stories. The day Belladonna told them Asta would be going home, so Bilbo would not let go of her hand until she had said it was time. Or when she stood before Thranduil, accusing him of abandoning the innocent, then leaving the Greenwood. Mostly they told happy stories to pass the time or would stare at her while she slept. There was little change in her, save for the moments it seemed as if she was running into a cold stream. Her face scrunched and her body tensed, then shivered, and slammed back to the bed only to return to its comatose state.

Dwalin had told his brother about how Asta brought memories back to him and they had had an argument about it, so they wouldn't see each other. Instead, Dwalin holed himself up in the training room. Balin sat in her library which was down a hall on its own, it was massive and held cause for him to slip into a chair and read endlessly. It was a tall room, at least three dwarves height, which meant he needed a ladder to reach the topmost shelf.

There was a round table in the center, maple wood that had been treated and stained. It carried the same elaborate floral design that many of the other wood pieces had in the house. He found comfort there, amongst tales of old and new, and seated surrounded by knowledge.

Nori disappeared most days, to places no one knew of, while Dori braved the forest edge to collect herbs, spices and mushrooms. Ori joined him sometimes, he would sit and draw the forest as his brother picked what he needed. To Ori this forest was a dangerous place and the further Dori and himself went in, which wasn't very far, the more he noticed webs. Not like the webs he was used to but instead a larger, thicker, stickier variety.

Gloin had joined Dwalin sometimes and sometimes joined Gandalf by the fire to smoke

a pipe. Oin reorganized Asta's cupboards and replenished the herbs she needed. Oin would find something out of place, fix it and he knew that as a safe house it would not remain this way, but if she was to be stuck here the rest of her life, it might as well be manageable.

Fili slept quite a bit, and when he wasn't sleeping he was smoking and when he wasn't smoking he was fighting. He preoccupied himself while his brother investigated the house. The floors were wood instead of tile and of course the door was missing, but the halls were tubular and there were many objects that made him think that she entertained often. It was very much more like a hobbit hole than a dwarf dwelling. There was a whole room for coats and hats, with the addition of a weapons storage, which was not found in

Bag End, but was found in dwarf homes. She had three pantries and two cellars that allowed the dwarves to be fed and have much to drink while she slept. That was on its own hallway, lined with paintings and drawings of dwarves, elves and humans alike, but all warriors. The bathroom, laundry and training room were all in a hallway of their own and the bedrooms had a hallway of their own as well. Asta's room was positioned between two hallways and accessible from the main room, which housed the kitchen and living area. It was warm and welcoming, the light holes illuminated the entire house all day and torches and candles lit the halls at night. Even a dwarf would find comfort here.

Lord Vehiron stayed in his room, and Sidhion would try to make conversation with the dwarves but most didn't respond, he quickly would return to either Vehiron or Asta's side.

Thorin slept when they didn't need him, and he was recovering quickly, he awoke on the second day and was able to stand and walk about but he could not hold his sword upright.

On the third day he moved to the training room and started to work his muscle. It was also on the third day that the elves left. Sidhion bowed to Thorin and wished him well on their journey while Vehiron said nothing and merely left.

The candles were lit, dinner made, and Bilbo called upon before Asta left her room.

Dinner was fairly quiet, as it had been the last few nights when there was a loud noise and then slight rustling. The door creaked and she clung to the doorframe, to hold her weight and when she attempted to take a step she faltered but held up her hand, she didn't want assistance. Eventually she made it to the table and Dori dished her up some food. She nodded at him then began to eat. At first she was refined, then she looked up at all of them, nodded again then ate like she hadn't ever tasted anything so good. The dwarves began eating again in much more happiness than before. When they all had finished Dori and Bilbo refused to let her get up and help with the cleaning, so instead she sat by the fire with Gandalf. While the dwarves were creating much disruption in the kitchen, Gandalf spoke to Asta in a hushed tone.

"How are you feeling?"

"Odd. I feel light as a feather yet unable to control my limbs."

"You'll get used to it. You have been separated from a part of your soul and will take time to adjust to the forest's influence in that."

"Hmn."

"I found something you may be interested in hearing."

She wrapped her quilt tighter to her face, "Oh? Well then, do tell Pa-pa."

"I found your father."

She stared into the fire and glanced at him from the corner of her eye. She tried to hide

her excitement but her bouncing foot betrayed her. "That is interesting. Is he alive?"

"No."

Her foot stopped moving, just for a second, "Did he die happily?"

"No."

"Well then, seems I am doomed to die cursed and unhappy aren't I?" she smiled weakly

into the fire.

"There was something else." He looked into the fire as well and let smoke escape from his

lips.

"Hmn." She murmured again.

"You have a brother, who is alive."

At this she leaned forward, albeit slowly; took the pipe from his mouth which elicited a shocked yet angry expression from him. She puffed two times, and then returned it. On the exhale she asked, "Where is he?"

"In the kitchen, helping with the dishes."

She whipped around, nearly knocking herself out of her chair, causing the dwarves to look at her. There were a few of them missing, Thorin, Balin and Oin, Nori and Bifur, everyone else was there.

"Did you need something Asta?" inquired Bilbo.

"No, no. Nothing." She slowly turned around, then was in her thoughts for a short time before telling Gandalf, "Don't tell me, don't tell them. Let none of us know."

Asta gazed into the flames with such ferocity while Gandalf finished his pipe. You do not argue with a wizard, not when he is so certain. Gandalf was just that; certain. Still, he knew that in her current state, she should not have to deal with the stress of another event to create tension with her and the company. They would never know if she had her way, and she would never know the joy that belonging to a family could bring. Even if they didn't accept her, she would feel the joy of knowing they were there. Perhaps one day he would tell the dwarves of the sister forgotten by time and race.

Looking calm, yet her mind racing, Asta sat in the chair, but her mind was far from the comfort of her home. She was trying to organize her thoughts into what she did know and what she did not. Staring into the fire gave her more sense of knowing than looking around did yet when anyone looked at her, she simply looked forlorn.

Gandalf abandoned conversation and instead continued on in his own head as well. He needed to figure the forest's problem both as a Guardian of Middle Earth but also as a curious wizard. As Asta slept he could feel the forest's strength rising, but knowing where the source of that strength came from did not assure him of its longevity. He feared a darkness that lay dormant in his mind, a darkness that he did not want to touch, but every clue that they received gave a clearer path to the gate this darkness was locked behind. While he stared into the fire the stories of old filled him until he could bear to look at it no more. He stood, changing his countenance and wandered the halls gazing at portraits, which eased his mind a bit.

Dori made some tea and passed it around, only being received by Bilbo, (who had been quite comfortable these past few days), Ori and Balin. Asta was on a wooden chair capable of rocking back and forth, directly in front of the fire, she blinked sometimes but never took her eyes from it. Some dwarves drank their tea in silence then carried themselves to bed. Others carried small talk then found themselves tired enough for sleep.

By the evening's end, when night was black and heavy, so much so you could feel it in the damp earth, Thorin, Asta, Kili and Fili remained. A short argument between brothers began but a thick glance from Thorin told them that they too had worn out their welcome. They got up to leave and when they had reached the hall Kili turned back to glance at the two left by the fire. It was a strange scene, one you can imagine in your head, two people, perfectly comfortable in silence. Blankets covered them and they stared at flames as if visions appeared there relating an old story that they told each other as the years passed. The only thing missing was aged and scratched matching rings on their hands. This unnerved him, so he spoke.

"Asta, I was wondering if you would join me on a hunt tomorrow?" without removing her eyes from the dance she nodded. This less than excitable answer discouraged him and

Thorin noticed. Kili locked eyes with his Uncle before removing himself down the hall.

"He enjoys your company." Thorin's deep voice softly soothed.

"I enjoy his." Her voice was thick and rusty from the days of inactivity. "How are you feeling?"

Thorin straightened his shoulders and moved about slightly, "Well enough."

"Well enough to travel?"

"In a couple more days time, yes."

To this Asta said nothing. He noticed the light from the flame flicker across her emotionless face, and he wondered if she would ever share its liveliness again. "And you?

How are you feeling?"

"It's hard to explain, but if I look from the fire I can't control my eyes or thoughts."

"That sounds difficult."

"Perhaps I'm just not used to it."

"Perhaps."

It is not in Thorin Oakenshield's nature to make small conversation, so when he does, it is for a reason, but this also means that he carries little tact when converging small talk with big talk.

"Some want you to come with us to Erebor." Asta was having a hard time creating separation from Thorin's voice from the others that began to enter her mind, so she scrunched her nose in concentration.

"You do not want to join us?" within the velvety sequence he showed a hint of surprise.

"That's not it. I'm focusing on your words." For a few flashes she internally struggled with something then said, "I take it some do not as well. You are King, what is it that you want?"

"I want to see my Kingdom returned to its people. I want to pluck the eyes out of that dragon's skull and I want to see Azog's head taken from his shoulders." He was in a similar trance as her now.

The flame before them was dying, yet as it fell, it became more and more intriguing, as if seeing it react in a new way. Slower, carefully licking up what morsels it could find.

"Yes, those are good things to want."

"I would have you come with us if you wanted it."

"Why?" she wasn't asking why in a way that was shocked but more factually. With

Thorin emotions were penniless unless fueled towards a goal.

"Because Dwalin and Kili value you."

"But not you?" They stole glances at each other from the corners of their eyes, but he did not answer this question. "Why take the word or ideas of two dwarves and not more?"

"There were more, but they pity you more than respect you. I don't need a pity party, I need warriors."

"I consider myself one of those."

"You will have your share in gold…"

She interrupted him, "I don't want gold." He paused, a dwarf not wanting gold is bizarre but someone wanting nothing for something was foolish.

"What is it that you want?"

"Property." He was confused and waited for her to elaborate. "I want a home in Erebor."

A deep intake of breath and sitting up gave him a good view of her now.

"Nothing fancy, just a place, with a bedroom and a kitchen and a small shop front."

"What would you sell?" he inquired with a short laugh.

"Furniture, bows, small toys."

"And where would you acquire such things?"

"I will make them."

He fiddled with a small object in his hands and laughed low and deep, "Make them?" he didn't believe her.

"Everything in this house is built by me, from the shelves, to the chairs, to the cabinets, to the table."

He skimmed the room, and the matching furniture suddenly all made sense. "Craftsmanship."

"Yes."

The fire was reaching the base of its life now. He pondered her request.

"I will give you property in Erebor on one condition."

She turned very slowly to him, but her gaze did not alter. It was as if she were a shell, empty, abandoned yet traces of life remained. She looked beyond him then her eyes unglazed as if she returned from a daydream.

"You must denounce your elf friends and only return here when necessary."

"Then I will take the gold." As she said it, the fire went out and he left her there in the dark.