This story is currently being edited, please excuse the bad writing in the coming chapters. All rights belong to Tolkien, except for the characters I own.

~Chapter 1~

Thwank,, thwank, thwank. Metal beating against metal vibrates my body. I raise my arm and bring the hammer down as hard as I can, pounding the metal out.

"Where is Glóiron?" commands a cold and emotionless voice. The voice came from a blonde elf with twigs sticking out of his hair.

Two elves stand behind him. A blonde and a ginger. The blond is handsome, not beautiful like most elves are. I look back at the elf who had addressed me. I wonder why was he wearing twigs in his hair. It kinda looks like a crown with red leaves.

Realization dawns on me, it was a crown of twigs and red leaves. He's King Thranduil!

I have only heard stories told by Kili and Fili. Dwarves are known to dislike elves so I didn't really believe their stories. But he is exactly as the dwarf princes described him, tall and wearing silky blue robes. And a crown made of sticks.

What am I going to do?

Clearing my throat and standing straighter I approach the elf king.

"My master is not here right now, I speak for him in his absence." I recite what Glóiron told me to say.

"When will your master be back" Thranduil looks me up and down in disgust.

I'm wearing a tank top, breeches, carrying a hammer and covered in sweat. Not a good look on anyone.

"I don't know" I shrug, causing my sweaty hair to drop on my face. "He disappeared about a week ago and hasn't come back" I wipe the grime from my forehead. The elven king cringes. I bite my tongue to keep from smiling "Come back in about two weeks and ask again. He sometimes leaves for months or weeks at a time. It really just, varies." I babble.

Chuckling I continue "Last month he disappeared for a whole day and came back with a string of pearls for his wife's birthday present. He just…does his own thing. But anyways he's still not here and whatever business you have with him will either have to wait or be arranged with me." I say.

"Neither option in preferable. Is there another who possess his skills?" Thranduil who has remained relatively composed throughout my winded speech, is now pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Not that I know of. He's the best, of the best, of the best, sir" I say with pride.

Thranduil sighs. "My son's sword was forged by Glóiron. It shattered in a skirmish with orcs."

"Shattered? A dwarvish blade shattered against a rusty piece of metal that orcs dare to call a sword. I don't mean to be disrespectful but that sounds highly unlikely." I say.

"That is why we must speak with your master" the blond elf says. "I have had that sword for many years and it has never dulled. I desire to know the reason it shattered" Oh so he is Legolas.

Wow, Orlando Bloom isn't even half that good looking. Legolas's eyes are steely grey, not blue like in the movies. And he looks distinctly male, unlike his father and the ginger elf next to him, who I am beginning to think is a female.

"Are you sure it was forged by him, or that it was even dwarvish?" I ask Legolas. I feel so small with these elves around, I barely even reach their chins.

"You are an insolent child. It is a wonder that he even keeps you as a servant" Thranduil says.

Servant! Why that…tree shagger!

"I am his apprentice of two years, not his servant." I try to keep my composure. The nerve of that elf!

Thranduil's eyebrow raises "Interesting, he took on a girl as an apprentice. Why?"

"None of your business." I snap. "Come back sometime in the next two weeks and he may be here. And I am done with my work for the day. Goodnight your majesty."

Is it rude to turn your back on a king? If it is, then I just insulted the King of Twigs. Who no doubt had one shoved up his…you know, a lady really shouldn't use that type of language.

Thranduil, Legolas, and the ginger leave and I am able to cool the fires and wash my face in peace. The sword I had been forging is nearly done. I just needed to sharpen it. I can do that tomorrow.

After locking the forge door I throw on my oversized brown jacket. It isn't fashionable by any means, but it's warm and comfy. And a reminder of my home in London. I sigh at the memory. I haven't thought about my old life in months.

I shake my head and walk the familiar path home

Erebor is amazing if you are an architect or like lots of long stairways, bridges and large columns. I would've thought that living underground would be crowded and dark, but Erebor isn't like that.

It's very open and it feels like you're outside with the way the light fell from a large window in the top of the mountain, and the chill that comes from the stone. The walkways are wide and open, and the columns tall and decorated with dwarvish designs. Think Celtic knots, only square.

But my favorite part about Erebor is the lanterns and the torches, the ones that light the walkways and shine from inside the windows of the rooms hollowed into the mountain. They make everything look warm and inviting, like when you're walking home at night after Christmas shopping.

It's like a palace buried deep inside a mountain. The dragon had damaged the front gate and the treasure room a good bit, but over the last two years everything had been rebuilt and Erebor is once again rich and prosperous, with an addition of a gold floor in the Gallery of Kings.

Dwarves from the Blue Mountains and the Iron Hills returned to Erebor and everything is exactly as it should be. Well, almost.

Thorin is king, he, Kili and Fili had all survived! I guess Tolkien had written their deaths to make the Hobbit more dramatic. Bilbo apparently came to visit every Durin's Day as a memento of their quest.

The Hobbit movies are relatively accurate in their portrayals of the dwarves. Thorin did have blue eyes, and black hair streaked with a bit of grey. And Kili… you know, I could probably go on and on about the differences and similarities between the actors and the dwarves. But as far as I can remember Peter Jackson's films were pretty darn close.

The book however was written to be child friendly, not realistic like the LOTR series. Apparently a lot more went on than what was in either the book and movies.

My master, besides being the best blacksmith in all of Erebor, is the cousin of Gloin and Oin, and is also employed by Thorin as some sort of government official.

I think that has to do with why he disappears so often. But every time I ask him he either tells me to shut up or evades my questioning.

I begin to pant from climbing up the fifth staircase. It's a chore to get from the workshop to the house. Glóiron has a forge down near the entrances to the mines and the market place. And that is three levels below the main gate. Our house is near the upper levels, close to the palace.

I have to walk up multiple stair cases and across different walkways. Each stair case has at least a hundred steps I swear.

It's easy for an outsider to get lost in Erebor. Humans and elves don't posses the dwarvish abilities to sense depth and direction underground.

But I have walked these paths with Gloiron so many times that I can find my way there and back in the dark.

There was something I was supposed to do for Eideth, Gloiron's wife. But I can't, for the life of me, remember what she had asked me to do.

'Did it have something to do with food?' I ask myself. No, she never asked me to get eggs or anything like that. Maybe it had something to do with books? No, but it gave me a good excuse to stop by the book store.

The market room is awesome. It is a large room with huge pillars lining the walls. In between these pillars are carts of exotic cloths, jewelry, flowers and all sorts of wonderful smells. I try not to drool at everything I smell.

There are roasted hazelnuts and walnuts toasted in sugar and butter. And there's a vendor selling sticks with fried meat on them. Oh, it smells heavenly.

This was my second favorite part of Erebor. I make my way behind the pillars to the permanent shops. These are just as busy as the venders and have many more interesting things to sell.

The book store is right in between the butchers and the seamstress. It has no windows, only two large oak doors and a sign written in Khuzdul

"Hello?" I poke my head inside. "Visha! Are you here? Hello!" It's a very messy place. Books are stacked as high as my head, and the shelves lining the walls are overflowing with books.

"Caelinn is that ya?" asks a tinkling voice with a Scottish accent.

"Yeah its me. Where are you?" A thick hand shoots out from behind a bookcase towards the back. "What are you doing behind the bookcase?"

"Come here, quickly! I have something" she shouts. I walk over to the side of the bookcase and find that part of the wall had been carved into a path just wide enough for me to squeeze into. I side step my way to a doorway behind the bookcase. Wiggling out of the narrow path I find myself in a large room full of books.

It isn't like the front room which looks like a hurricane has blown in. This room is clean and organized. Bookshelves are carved into the four walls and an oak-wood table sits in the center with a candle stick placed on a corner. Each wall has two candlesticks with their candles lit.

"I didn't know this was here. What's all this?" I ask, running my fingers over the spines of the unfamiliar books. Most were written in languages that I had never seen.

"Oh just old books that contain dangerous secrets mi dear" Visha is a stout dwarf woman with greying brown hair and sparkling grey eyes. Today her beard is plated with small blue and grey glass beads.

"What types of secrets?" I ask, pulling out a black and yellow book that looks like it's written in Chinese.

"Old secrets, dark ones. Spells that should never be used." Her usually upbeat voice becomes low and serious.

"Like dark magic?" I ask. The whole room seems to drop a few degrees with those three words. I shiver and put the book back.

"Among other things." she grunts. "Alright then. This is what I wanted to show you." She lifts up a large purple book with gold lettering.

'Basic Magic' I read. "What's this?" I ask, looking at Visha in confusion.

"Gloiron asked me to find it for ya. He wants ya to start doing magic" I freeze

"He did? But I don't do magic." I say "I just make weapons, trinkets and stuff."

"Aye lass, ya do" Visha agrees. "Gloiron didn't do magic when he started either. He learned magic in his spare time and learned out how forge it into the weapons he made. That's why he's the greatest smithy in Erebor, because his weapons give their users power." She says.

"I know that." I run my fingers through my hair. "You know I don't like magic and I still don't that I should be learning it." I stop to take a breath "It's dangerous, it's not something that should be messed with. It alters the physical world in a way that is not natural. It manipulates things into something that they aren't"

"No it doesn't. Take a hunk of wood for example. Ya take a knife to it and carve it into the shape of a bear. Ya make it into somethin' that it wasn't in nature. Magic is the same way."

"But that statue is still wood. It doesn't do anything except look pretty. It-" Visha cuts me off.

"Yare a stubborn lass ya know? Yare gonna learn to use magic if you ever want to be as great as Gloiron ya hear! He said that if ya wanted to continue on as his apprentice ya were gonna have to learn magic." Visha stops her shouting and takes a few deep breaths. " I know that yare uncomfortable with it. I understand. Ya've a right to be uncomfortable. That is why ya will be learin' the basics. Know what ya should and shouldn't do. Just like a sword. Ya learn how to fight the right way, ya won't take yer head off! Or some other unfortunate limb." she jokes.

"Alright" I sigh, "I'll give it a go and we'll see if it works out." I say before she threatens me. Visha is not a dwarf I wanted to mess with. She will kill anyone who angers her without blinking an eye, put them in a box wrapped in ribbon and then send them back to their family. In pieces.

Ribbon? Why does that ring a bell?

"Aye. And don't think of comin' back here till ya've learned at least one spell. I won't sell ya another book until ya do."

"You wouldn't." I gasp. Visha just glares at me. She would. She definitely would.

'Ribbon, ribbon, ribbon ribbon' my brain kept repeating. Ribbon! I remember what I was supposed to do! Eideth wanted some more ribbons for Heidi's hair.

"Alright fine. I'll see you next year." I say. Visha snorts and I turn to go. "Oh and by the way" I looked back. "Thranduil and his son stopped by, they was looking for Gloiron. Apparently a sword he forged shattered in a skirmish with orcs. If you happen to see Gloiron before me, please inform him of that"

Visha says nothing as I slip out of the secret room and head towards a ribbon booth.

I get pink and purple, Heidi's favorite colors. After that I head home, thinking about nothing but a nice hot bath and a comfy place by the fire with a good book.

Two thick arms wrap around me and refuse to let me go. I thrash and squirm this way and that.

I can't get loose! I kick at his groin. He squawks and lets me go before crumbling into a heap on the floor.

Someone with blond hair is laughing hysterically behind a column. I look back at my assaulter and recognize the poor dwarf.

"Fíli, shut up and help your brother!" I swear those two were nothing but trouble. "I'm so sorry Kíli." I pat his back awkwardly. He grunts and I don't know what to do. I'd help if I could, but I seriously had no clue what I could do.

"Oh he'll be alright." Kíli's moans interrupt Fíli. "In a little while." Fíli adds as an afterthought.

"Yeah, right. Well if he's alright then I'm just gonna go and I will see you two later. Again I am so sorry." I say before scurrying away as quickly as I can, all the while hoping they won't tell Dís.

This story will be updated every Friday night until it's finished. Again this story is being edited so please excuse all grammatical errors, inconsistencies and overall bad writing in the coming chapters.