A.N. Whew. Moving sucks. Thankfully, the worst is over, and now we slowly start unpacking the kitchen boxes, and catch up on laundry. Hope everyone out there is doing well!
Disclaimer: I own nothing except my original characters and plot points.

First thing the next morning, Danica went straight to Gandalf, and told him of her revelation. There were scroll son the bed, telling her that he'd already done a lot of his own research. Her dream was the final confirmation of all of Gandalf's fears. He pinched the bridge of his nose, and took a deep breath.

"I have been doing everything I can to keep this world safe, but it was not enough," there was a weariness in his voice that Danica knew she could never understand.

"You have done more than anyone else could, or would. That counts for something in my book," she knelt beside the wizard, putting a hand on his knee.

He looked down, and smiled fondly at her. "Considering all you have done for the safety of this world, I will take that as a high compliment," he patted her cheek, then looked at the scrolls. "I have one final hope that Bilbo's ring is not the One, but I will have to go back to Bag End,"

Danica nodded. "Alright. I will travel to Erebor, then,"

Gandalf shook his head. "I do not feel comfortable with the idea of you traveling alone, nor would Thorin,"

Knowing he was right; Danica chewed the inside of her lip. "Alright, what would you suggest?"

Like a whirlwind, he suddenly sped around the room, gathering the scrolls. "come with me as far as Lorien. We may be able to find someone who can escort you to Erebor,"

"May? Gandalf, I can't wait for a 'may,'"

"It is the best I can do, especially since it will be a fight getting you out of this city,"

He had her there. She begrudgingly agreed, and went back to her room to get ready. A guard was waiting for her.

"His Lordship wishes to see you, my Lady,"

The words were a request, the tone and meaning were not. Feeling cold, Danica followed the guard through the main hall they had been greeted into a smaller chamber. It, too, was made of marble, but felt colder and darker. Something whispered over the hair on her arms, and coiled around her throat. Her eyes found the pedestal, but she had already known it was there. Time meant nothing, and so she didn't notice the guard leave, and Denethor enter. All of her focus remained on leather-covered pedestal.

"I assume you know what that is," Denethor's voice was soft, but still echoed.

"This is how you knew who I was," even as she spoke, she couldn't tear her eyes from the object.

"Nothing can be hidden from me, Miss MacKay," the condescension in his tone finally broke the spell.

"I am no longer merely 'Miss,' my Lord, and ask that you address me appropriately," never before had titles concerned her, nor how people addressed her. Denethor's casual use of her name had felt like both a slap in the face, and invasion of privacy. It left her uncomfortable and sick.

"You may have married a king, but you come from common blood. The only special part of you is your magic. You are nothing more than a witch,"

"How dare you," Danica seethed. "It is clear that you lost your mind a long time ago, and I do not have to stand here and take your insults," she spun on her heel, and stalked toward the door. It shut in her face, revealing three stone-faced guards. She went cold.

"My kingdom has borne the brunt of Mordor's wrath for as long as I can remember. We have searched, and searched for something that would give us the upper hand, and then you wander willingly into this city. You, the only one who can look into the Dark Lord's mind, and know his plans,"

Her hands began quivering. "You are mistaken,"

He moved closer, and she backed up, but ran into one of the guards. She was trapped.

"It is said that you are a compassionate savior; an angel of mercy fighting against the agents of evil. Help us. Look into his thoughts, and help us find his weakness. It is said that the One Ring is still out there. If you cannot find a way to defeat his mind, find the Ring. We can use it to destroy him,"

Panic had her heart pounding painfully against her ribs. "I promise you, you cannot use the Ring. The only way to destroy Sauron is to destroy the Ring. Please, let me go. Whatever it is you want to do here could only make things worse,"

With one look from Denethor, the guards grabbed her in a vice-like grip, and dragged her to the pedestal.

"Stop!" she yelled. "You can't do this!"

"You will find, Miss MacKay, that I can,"

No amount of kicking or screaming did her any good. Denethor was resolute, and the guards were apparently immune to compassionate tendencies. When Denethor lifted the leather, Danica found herself face-to-face with a Palantir.

"One way or another, you will help us," he said.

"You don't know what you're doing. I don't have the power to stand against him," she was pleading now, praying that something would break through the cold insanity. "I know you must want to save your people, but if you expose me to him, you may do the opposite. What is in my memories could give him everything he'd need to destroy this world, starting with your city,"

"I guess you will have to use that legendary power of yours to make sure that does not happen,"

The guards took her hand, and, with her screaming, placed it on the Palantir.


The closer Thorin got to Erebor, the easier it was for him to breathe. Humidity lowered, leaving the air crisp and clean. Stopping in Dale was physically painful, but he had promised the troupe that he would watch their performance. They had grown fond his presence, and he had to admit that they had grown on him as well. As he had seen, and expected, their performance was excellent. Each story, dance, and song held the audience without exception, always giving the desired effect of the performer. Nathir was the most popular, particularly among the women, even though he only performed once. It further strengthened Thorin's suspicion that the man had elf blood in him.

There were plenty of people who gave Thorin curious looks, but no one seemed to guess who he was. Except for one woman. She was elderly, her hair snow white, and her skin deeply wrinkled, but her eyes were sharp as a blade. When he saw her, she was sitting with the royal family of Dale. The first glance she threw was somewhat disdainful, but then she did a double-take. Her eyes widened, and he knew that she recognized him. She must have lived in Laketown during the quest. Would she give his identity away? They kept an eye on each other, but she never approached him.

He shared an inn with the troupe that night, but the only sleep he found was during his dream with Danica. It felt like hours, but turned out to be only a couple. When he woke, he felt hopeful, knowing that she was going to be making her way home to him. At dawn, he rose, and made his way down to the dining room. As early as it was, he didn't expect any food, but was pleasantly surprised by some freshly baked bread. While he washed it down with water, Nathir came down and joined him.

"I suppose this is where our paths diverge," Nathir commented, taking a jug of apple cider.

"It is," Thorin replied. "I must thank you for your kindness and hospitality,"

"Think nothing of it. We all enjoyed your company. The troupe will be sad to see you go,"

"They are a talented group. You should be proud of them,"

Nathir smiled, and Thorin expected a farewell to come next, but it didn't.

"Forgive my forwardness, but I have known your identity since we saw you and your wife at the ford. Whatever has brought you back here, and forced you to separate from her, I hope it will be for good. If you ever need my assistance, here are our normal, seasonal locations, so you will know where to find me,"

Unsure how to respond, Thorin accepted the piece of parchment Nathir handed him.

"Why did you not say anything to anyone?" he finally asked.

"Because I knew the circumstances must be dire for the King and Queen under the Mountain to fake their deaths, and then come back 60 years later, only to be parted,"

Thorin shook his head. "You do have elven blood, don't you?"

Nathir nodded. "Half. I chose the life of a mortal. I have never wanted immortality,"

Having already lived a long life, Thorin couldn't blame him. Immortality seemed like more of a curse than a gift. Then again, knowing that Danica would likely die before him, any kind of long life would be miserable.

"Well, I appreciate your discretion, though I do not fully understand your willingness to help us,"

The peaceful light went out in Nathir's eyes, sobering his entire countenance. "If you would permit me to visit you in Erebor, we could talk more then,"

The proposition made Thorin uneasy, but there was clearly something important Nathir wished to discuss.

"How long will you be here?" Thorin asked. "I can speak with Fili, and meet with you tomorrow,"

They shook on it, and then bid each other farewell. Thorin's intuition told him that whatever it was Nathir had to say, it had to do with his and Danica's reappearance. Whether it was that, or the nerves of returning home, Thorin felt antsy walking down the hill to Erebor. His chest clenched painfully, and he felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. What was happening? He tried to ignore it when he reached the gates of Erebor, so he could address the sentries.

"What is your business here, friend?" one of them asked in Khuzdul.

"I am Thorin, son of Thrain. Tell King Fili that his uncle has come home"

It was like the air had been sucked from their lungs. They looked at each other, and then one of them rushed inside.

"Come inside, please," the remaining sentry turned, and gestured Thorin into the foyer.

The mountain was already bustling with morning foot traffic as people got up, and headed to their work, or appointments. For the most part, they kept their eyes forward, but a few cast curious glances his way. He noticed some familiar faces from Ered Luin and the Iron Hills. There were so many new as well. Dwarves from the far east and south. It was encouraging to see the people of Mahal uniting.

"Good morning, Your Majesty," a casual greeting pulled Thorin's attention further down the hall.

He looked so much like his father. Fili had matured into a fine dwarf, his hair and moustache braided simply, but with dignity. Some hard years lined his face, but energy still radiated from him, and his eyes widened at the sight of Thorin. A grin split across his face, and he was then running toward him. They embraced in a hard hug, laughing with tears in their eyes.

"I thought I would never see you again," Fili said. "No one knew what happened to you,"

They parted, and Fili looked around expectantly.

"Danica is with Gandalf in Gondor," Thorin stated, answering the question in Fili's eyes. "It is a long story, and we have much to catch up on,"

Fili nodded. "We can speak in my quarters,"

"Look what the cat dragged in,"

Warmth spread through Thorin's chest. Turning, he saw Dwalin standing nearby, arms crossed over his chest. The stern façade quickly melted away, and the two embraced much the way Thorin and Fili had.

"Ye have a lot of explaining to do," Dwalin grumbled.

Thorin smiled. "If you come with us, you will learn all you wish to know,"

As they walked to Fili's quarters, the dark feeling Thorin had experienced earlier strengthening. He managed to catch Fili and Dwalin up on everything that had happened, but remained distracted.

"What is bothering ye, Thorin?" Dwalin questioned.

"I am not entirely sure," Thorin admitted. "It's as if something dark is lurking at the edge of my conscious; a dread that will not go away,"

"Dani," Fili breathed. "It must have to do with her. You two were always so connected,"

Though he knew it was true, Thorin had desperately wished otherwise. The moment he had left her, he'd had a sinking feeling that something bad would happen. Now, he was too far away to help her. He opened his mouth to speak, then heard his name whispered. Blood going cold, he held up a hand, asking for silence. Only a moment later, he heard it again. It was Danica.

"I need one of you to knock me out. Now,"

"What is it?" Fili asked, alarmed.

"Now!" Thorin roared. Before Fili could question any further, Dwalin struck Thorin in the neck, hitting a nerve, and all went black.

Everything was fire and heat. Thorin immediately felt like he was back in Erebor during Smaug's attack. A dark voice echoed around, speaking in a tongue Thorin couldn't understand. Suddenly, an ear-piercing scream shattered the air. Any pain from the heat disappeared as Thorin frantically looked around for his wife.

"Danica!" the moment his call circled the air, the flames died down, and he could see the top of Minas Tirith. Danica was standing at the edge, quivering and wide-eyed. She staggered toward him, and clung to him once he caught her.

"How are you here?" her voice was weak and broken, parts of visible skin red and burned.

"You called me," he replied. "Somehow I heard you while I was with Fili and Dwalin. I had Dwalin render me unconscious,"

Danica shook her head. "Under different circumstances, I would be relieved to have you here, but it's too dangerous right now,"

"Sauron," he looked around, but could only see the city and landscape, darkened by smoke.

"Yes, and he's been using a battering ram against Danica's mind,"

Never in Thorin's life would he have thought to hear that voice again. Making sure to keep a firm hold on Danica, he looked over at his youngest nephew.

"Kili," today certainly was a day for reunions.

"Hello, Uncle," Kili smiled warmly. "It is good to see you, though I am sure we both wish it was under different circumstances,"

Thorin wasn't completely sure what he wished in that moment. "What is happening here?"

Danica explained about Denethor, and the Palantir. Thorin felt sick, and knew that if he ever saw the Steward of Gondor, he could wrap his hands around his throat, and squeeze, watching the life leave the man's eyes. Kili had shown up when Sauron was getting close to breaking Danica's mind. She was using all the strength she had to keep him at bay.

"I can't hold him back much longer," she confessed. "He already made his way in once,"

The dark voice hissed around them once again. Danica whimpered, and squeezed her eyes shut. Sweat broke out across her brow from the effort of keeping Sauron out. A laugh followed the hiss, and when Sauron spoke again, he used the common tongue.

"She remembers now, and her knowledge will soon be mine,"

"No," Danica ground out, clutching Thorin's shirt so hard he was sure it would rip.

"Not while we are here," Thorin growled.

"How little you know, dwarf," Sauron taunted. "I wanted her to call you here. Once I have taken control of her mind, her power will be used to kill you,"

Danica's shaking became more violent, and tears streamed down her face.

"That is not possible," Thorin shook his head, wrapping his arms around his wife.

Sauron's soft chuckle had gooseflesh rippling across Thorin's arms. Kili's sigh made it all worse. "It is possible,"

With Kili's words came an image of a marble room, lit by a window, and the strange light coming from a stone. A stone upon which Danica's hand appeared to be stuck. Two guards were trying to pry her hand from it, while another man, Lord Denethor, yelled at them from a safe distance. A third guard lay behind them all, blood still pooling from his nose and mouth.

"This is what the Dreamwalker is capable of. She can change one's mind and memories, and damage them enough to kill the person," there was a lustful edge to Sauron's tone. He had plans for these new-found powers.

"What can we do?" Thorin questioned softly of Danica and Kili. "There has to be some way out of here,"

"Only one that I can think of," Danica managed. "You're not going to like it, but I need your help,"

"Anything," and he meant it.

"I think I can send myself to Rivendell, but I'm weak,"

"Whatever strength I have, it is yours, but what about the risks?" he thought back to her bloody nose on top of Bilbo's house.

She looked into his eyes, and saw that there was no other choice. "I have to try,"

Fear twisted his gut. There was no real way of knowing where, or when she would show up, and this time, he couldn't go with her.

"Can you go to Erebor?" he asked, knowing it was a long shot.

More tears streamed down her cheeks. "I need the magic that Elrond gives to Rivendell,"

Hugging her tightly, Thorin cursed Sauron with all he had. Finally, he kissed her. Briefly, but deeply.

"Do what you need to do,"

Closing her eyes again, she took Thorin's hands, and began to breathe deeply. Kili walked over, standing close to them. When he put a hand on her shoulder, magic began to grow around them, nipping at their skin. Wind blew, picking up errant leaves from the few trees. Sauron's voice boomed menacingly around them, but Thorin kept his focus on Danica. In a sudden flash of light, she was gone.

He woke on a strangled yell, thrashing in the darkness. There was a fire somewhere to his right, which only heightened his panic. Jumping from the bed, he looked for something he could use as a weapon. The door burst open just as he wrapped his fingers around a base. However, it was Fili who walked in.

"Thorin! Thank Mahal you're awake!"

"Fili," Thorin lowered the vase, and rubbed a hand over his face. "How long have I been out? A few weeks, Fili informed. He suggested they sit, his eyes troubled. "We have no way of knowing what had happened.

"Has anyone heard from Danica?"

Fili looked down, and sighed. "We have received word from Gandalf and Lord Elrond; Dani is nowhere to be found,"