had been recovered and the Great Goblin had been cast down into the depths of the cave below. "Follow me. Quick! Run!" Gandalf waved his staff in the air drawing the attention of all the dwarves, Arethusa unsheathed her blade, cutting down a goblin that had tried to jump on her back. Bifur ran behind her and where the company ran she followed. The silver of her sword had been painted a dark red, so dark it appeared black.

The pathways were a maze and every time she looked over her shoulder there seemed to be hundreds of more goblins. Thorin and Dwalin swung out their weapons slicing through the ropes that suspended the part of the path they stood on. It started to swing and half the dwarves had been able to jump to the next platform on the first swing. Goblins bounded onto the pendulum-like platform and as it neared the pointed where the other dwarves were Gandalf gripped onto Arethusa and half-threw her up to the company as he jumped and turned back slicing through the ropes.

Gandalf pushed ahead to lead the company, at one point he struck a boulder with his staff causing it to fall and roll down the path, knowing the goblins out of the way. A bridge was ahead, leading to the opposite side of the cavern and to the exit. Gandalf and Thorin were the first to step onto the rickety platform when Great Goblin broke through from underneath the bridge and pulled himself up onto it in front of the company. Hundreds of goblins surround them on all sides. Fili and Kili both stood on either side of the fairy and everyone had their swords and axes at the ready. "You thought you could escape me?" He swung his mace towards Gandalf, truly angry now, and on the second strike, the wizard nearly lost footing and fell. "What are you going to do now, wizard?"

With a knock to the eye with his staff and a quickly dispatched slice across the stomach and neck the Great Goblin's body toppled forward and broke the bridge. The section of the platform descended into darkness, only slowing when the caverns wall narrowed. Upon impact, the two young brothers shoved Arethusa away and completely off the bridge just as the corpse of the large goblin fell upon the company. Her heart twisted, I am supposed to be protecting the two of you, her thoughts were better left unspoken, though.

It seemed that every goblin in Middle Earth was descending the walls trying to reach them. There was only one thing that could truly ensure their safety from these creatures and that was daylight. The fairy was quick on her feet as she trailed behind the wizard and in front of Thorin, the company broke out of the cave and into the dying light of day but still they ran down the mountain until Gandalf stopped and began counting heads.

Thorin tipped Arethusa's chin up, looking at the two bleeding cuts on her neck and the one that spanned from her temple and crossed over her eye, ending near her nose. "I'm alright, Thorin." She swallowed hard and turned back to see if somehow Bilbo had found them in the midst of the chaos. The fairy hardly paid attention to the bickering dwarfs as she saw a muted figure slip behind a tree.

"I'll tell you what happened. Master Baggins saw his chance and he took it! He's thought of nothing but his soft bed and his warm hearth since first he stepped out of his door! We will not be seeing our Hobbit again. He is long gone." Thorin's voice was filled with resentment and Arethusa wanted to slap him, shove him even to make him see Bilbo's worth. She hated him in the moment.

The hobbit stepped out from behind a tree, "No, he isn't." He looked to Arethusa, giving a small wink and in return, she smiled and looked to Thorin.

"Bilbo Baggins! I've never been so glad to see anyone in my life!" The wizard chuckled as he spoke and Bilbo stepped down into the company, patting Balin almost affectionately on the shoulder. Gandalf was not the only one to notice Bilbo sliding a gold ring into his waistcoat pocket. Both Arethusa and the wizard looked perturbed before smiling and drawing the company's attention from the artifact. The fairy could feel the dark magic that stemmed from the ring, though, it felt like she was almost suffocating.

"It matters!" Thorin nearly shouted and it broke Arethusa from her dark thoughts. "I want to know: why did you come back?" His voice was softer but no less demanding.

"Look, I know you doubt me, I know you always have. And you're right, I often think of Bag End. I miss my books. And my armchair. And my garden. See, that's where I belong. That's home. And that's why I came back, 'cause you don't have one. A home. It was taken from you. But I will help you take it back if I can." Arethusa felt the hobbit's eyes land upon her, the last days of Númenórë flashed through her mind, the sight of seeing the water take the island, her brothers, and father.

Howls permeated the silence, Thorin looked over at the fairy and saw the shred of fear that was in her violet eyes. "Out of the frying pan..." he muttered.

"And into the fire! Run! RUN!" Gandalf finished and run they did though they knew it was to no avail. The scrub landscape soon turned to the forest, which ended abruptly on a cliffside. The company was merely delaying death, if not by the orcs, then by the sheer drop over the edge. They had begun to scale trees but Bilbo had become separated, a warg was snapping his jaws at the hobbit, without a second thought to her actions, Arethusa dropped down from the branch she had perched on, ignoring the shouts of her name. As the beast charged at her friend she drove her sword into its neck and Bilbo's own blade was forced between its eyes.

The hobbit was trying to loosen his blade from the warg when Arethusa moved to help but she was lifted into the tree by a large hand. She tried to jerk away. "Bilbo is still down there. I have to help him." She met Thorin's gaze, her chest was heaving her wounds bleeding again. She feared for the life of her friend.

"I will not see you harmed, ghivashel." His voice was too firm for her liking, the fairy struggled to free herself to aid the hobbit but the hand around her waist was iron. When Arethusa looked to the dead warg she did not see Bilbo and panic flooded her system until she saw him in a neighboring tree. His fingertips dug into her ribs in a way that was near painful when he caught sight of the Pale Orc. "Azog," he breathed in disbelief.

"Nuzdigid? Nuzdi gast?" the utterance of the tongue of Sauron brought back memories of her home all over again. The corruption caused by Sauron and Melkor were the reason Númenórë was leagues under the sea. "Ganzilig­i unarug obod nauzdanish, Torin undag Train­ob." What the worst part was, in Arethusa's opinion, was that she understood the language. She had been trained in all languages except that of the Noldor, the high elves. Her eyes were focused on Thorin as his expression became stricken with pain and grief. "Kod, Toragid biriz. Worori­-da!"

The only thing that could snap the dwarf from his stupor was the shaking of the tree when wargs snapped and gnawed at the trunk. Some tried to climb the trees altogether. Thorin's arm fell away from her waist, each of them along with the others struggled to hold on. "Sho gad adol!" The tree was leaning wildly, close to being completely uprooted.

Thorin's arm wrapped around her middle again, pulling her into the safety of his chest when she almost slipped from her perch. Arethusa closed her eyes and breathed deeply, she focused on the rough fabric of Thorin's tunic beneath her cheek and the strong, reassuring beat of his heart, which quickened as she tightened her hold on him. This whole day had been one folly after the next. The others were fleeing to the tree in which Gandalf was in and when the shaking was not as violent Thorin pushed Arethusa along and into the branches of the next tree.

The fairy grabbed a pinecone and placed it against her lips, muttering quickly and indistinguishably. In her hand it burst into flames, seconds later she tossed it down. The warg it had landed on ran howling with his fur on fire and it spread among the broken branches and dry leaves. Gandalf had the same idea and soon flaming pinecones were being tossed from dwarf to dwarf and thrown to the wars and orcs below. It seemed like a momentary victory but the cheers turned to anguished shouts when the tree began to lean over the cliff's edge. Arethusa held onto her branch tightly but screamed when she saw Ori falling. He had managed to grip Dori's legs but the added weight caused the branch to break. The wizard swung his staff down for Dori to catch with not a single second to spare.

Arethusa's breath was strangled, her chest heaved as she heard her own branch begin to crack. Bifur reached his hand down for her to take but she could not even come close to reaching it, nor could he afford to lean down anymore. His gaze was drawn elsewhere and the fairy understood why, Thorin had managed to pull himself up on the trunk of the tree and was running towards Azog, shield in one hand and Orcrist in the other. "Thorin! Thorin, no!" She slipped again and at the jolt the branch cracked even more.

She could only watch. Thorin had tried to swing his sword but the white warg hit him in the chest with its large paw. He barely made it back to stand on his feet when Azog rode forward and swung his mace, it hit the dwarf square in the chest and face. Arethusa looked away when the warg clamped its jaws around Thorin and shook him but she could not block out his pained shouts. She tried again to reach up to the next branch but when she did her own branch broke. Thorin heard her scream and saw Bilbo standing before him before everything faded.

Arethusa waited for a hard impact but instead landed on something warm and feathered. An eagle. "Gwaihir," she breathed and the bird cawed loud and proud at his name, recognizing the eagle that had caught her from the scar on its beak. More of the great birds had caught the dwarves still dangling from the tree and others picked up wargs and their riders, dropping them over the cliff to an imminent death. Gwaihir swooped down and picked Thorin up within his talons.

Landroval was the only other Eagle she had met, and now Fili rode on his back through the night. Arethusa rested her head on the bird's back, careful not to pluck any of his feathers but from the angle she saw Thorin. His eyes were shut and his face bloody. The fairy remembered eagles from Númenórë, they too were guardians of Mount Meneltarma, and before the island had come to its doom great clouds of eagles had come as a warning, it was then she met Gwaihir and Landroval.

Morning broke and on the horizon she spotted the Carrock. The eagle placed Thorin down on the flat surface of the top of the rock and Arethusa slipped from his back, kneeling down at the dwarf's side. She rummaged through what was left in her satchel, pulling out a vial of red liquid. One drop fell onto his parted lips as the wizard approached. Arethusa laid her hands on Thorin's chest and forehead, murmuring quietly. Gandalf listened and was shocked to realize what type of magic she was using. Soul healing, it was unique to fairies and to experience it was a blessing.

Thorin gasped for air, his eyes widening. Arethusa stumbled back, breathing in relief as the company surrounded him. "The Halfling?" Gwaihir had landed on the back of the rock, the rest of the eagles had flown back to their nesting grounds. The great eagle lowered his head, he could feel the presence of a fairy. Arethusa lowered her head as well but reached out and ran her hand over his smooth beak, it was a way to show her thanks for saving them. Gwaihir ruffled the feathers on his breast, catching one and plucking it out, setting it in Arethusa's hands. The bird turned and spread his wings, taking flight.

Arethusa tucked the feather in her healer's pouch and rejoined the company, unbeknownst that Thorin had been watching her from the corner of his eyes. There was a strange surge of warmth that encompassed him when he turned away from the sight of the Lonely Mountain to look upon his fairy. "Your wounds still need to be better tended to." She muttered under her breath, not meeting his gaze.

"As do yours." He touched the scabbed over cuts on her neck and face. Seeing the others watch them with knowing smiles and piqued curiosity made her heart lurch and then beat faster.

"Thorin." She pulled his hands away and held them against her chest if he was a fairy he would have learned what such an action meant, but he was not and she would not tell him. "We should move on, make camp. Today has been trying." Balin and Dwalin agreed, slowly the company descended the rock and despite how tough he chose to appear she could see Thorin struggling with his wounds with the way he held his left arm against him.

They had walked little more than a mile before Arethusa turned, insisting that they stop to rest by the Anduin, she ventured off, taking out her dirk before skimming over the wildflowers and herbs. There was kingsfoil and marjoram, a thicket of witch hazel and sweet violets. Asides from the small flask of the juice of fireflies and the eagle feather her healer's satchel was empty and for the available herbs, she was thankful. Pleased with her supply she found a secluded part of the river, curtained with large boulders.

The cool water soothed her ankle, and she scrubbed away the dirt and grime around her nails and elbows. Her cuts were tender and required a gentler touch, the water stung. "Areth-," she jumped at the call of her name and sank lower beneath the water's surface, crossing her arms over her chest. "Well come on, Thorin, out with it." The tone of her voice was teasing yet annoyed.

"You had not told us where you had gone, forgive us for worrying so considering we are being hunted." She sighed, not finding it within herself to be angry. He looked at her for long seconds, scanning over her face the scabs, her violet eyes looked more lilac in the light of the sun.

Arethusa lowered her eyes and stepped back, sinking deeper in the water. "If I am to truly mend your wounds then you need to bathe as well." The dwarf looked at the fairy with narrowed eyes, he wanted to shrug off her care, to say that it was nothing but each breath was painful and he ached all over. The looked in her eyes told him that even if he lied she would have none of it.

The sheath with Orcrist fell to the river bank, as did what remained of his quiver and bow. He slipped off his fur trimmed outer coat and then the belt at his waist. When Arethusa realized she was blatantly staring she turned her back towards the bank, not even the cool water could soothe the fierce color her cheeks had turned. She hadn't noticed the breath she had been holding in until she heard the surface of the water break, taking a chance she turned back, keeping herself hidden beneath the water as much as possible.

What she noticed first about the dwarf as the large black marking on his bicep, it resembled the symbols Dwalin had on his skull, yet the concept was foreign to her. "What is it?" Her hand brushed over his skin hesitantly, it was smooth beneath her fingertips. She had her own mark now, but it was a deep magic created to bind fairies to their word and she knew Thorin was not a fairy.

"A tattoo," Thorin almost laughed at her curiosity, though her soft hands upon his skin prevented him from saying much of anything.

Arethusa traced the design, at the top, was his own personal seal that served as a sword's pommel, at the point of the blade was a crown and above it was the star of a warrior. "Does it hurt?" Her attention moved from the tattoo to the first of his wounds. It was upon his breast and still bled if he moved too quickly. He wasn't sure if she had questioned him about his tattoo or the marks from battle.

She sighed, knowing it would take time for this to heal, for now, she feared infection. The fairy turned her back to Thorin again but he moved in front of her, tipping her chin up. "Arethusa, thank you, for saving me." She nodded, unable to say anything, her throat was tight with some odd feeling. "How did you do it?"

Arethusa smiled and placed her hand on his forehead and chest once more, the same warmth he had felt before overwhelmed him. "Fairies can perform energy transfers. It's nothing too special." Of course, it is special you stubborn dwarf, I gave you part of my soul, I gave you my heart.

"I've never felt so warm in my life." He uttered, his fingers reached out to run over her neck, and along the two scratches but she jerked away, her heart pounding within her chest.

"I will you leave in peace now," Arethusa fled from the Anduin, gathering her clothes up to change behind one of the large trees. With her back pressed against the rough bark, she frowned. Why must the Valar be so cruel?

Ghivashel (Khuzdul): Treasure of treasures.

Nuzdigid? Nuzdi gast? (Orcish): Do you smell it? The scent of fear?

Ganzilig­i unarug obod nauzdanish, Torin undag Train­ob. (Orcish): I remember your father reeked of it, Thorin son of Thrain.

Kod, Toragid biriz. (Orcish): That one is mine.

Worori­da! (Orcish): Kill the others!

Sho gad adol! (Orcish): Drink their blood!