Blood of the Dragon (Thorin Oakenshield)

I

This is a mix of the movies and the book. Everything besides Kalaera and certain chapters are J.R.R. Tolkiens, Peter Jackson, and all that other good stuff! The picture used in the cover is not mine, I found it on the fabulous Google, I just photoshopped eyes and that business.

Dedicatied to Anna_Donovan because her storys are what made me want to write a Hobbit fic.

Drawing the thick smoke into her mouth, she listened to the brothers argue back and forth about which way to head. She sat, waiting for them to take notice of the sign hanging mere steps away. As soon as a blade was drawn she let out the smoke that had been settling in her lungs, leaving her nose and pooling around the area. Once the two were blinded by the smoke she stood swiftly and grabbed the small dagger form clumsy hands. Within moments the smoke clear and she was seated in the trees, two pairs of eyes wildly searching the area for hair as crimson as fire. With a quick flick of the wrist a solid thunk met the ears of the brothers. "Fili darling, who taught you to hold a blade?" She landed fluidly on the ground behind the blond, she brought her lips close to his ear and calmly whispered. "You need a firm hand, wield a blade like you would touch a woman." She danced across the path to the brunet, brown eyes followed her movements till the moment to strike came; hands shot out but were quickly countered, a hand wove itself into the back of brunet locks and kicked out his knees. "For someone who's been trained to have the eyes of an eagle, you are greatly falling short Kili."

"By my beard Kalaera, can't you point out the sign, I just had that sharpened." Fili was whining as he pulled the metal out of the sign, it slid smoothly back into its hiding place in a breast pocket. "I'll make a guess that we are heading west, as you so kindly pointed out. Only a day or two away now, let's make haste, we don't want to be late,"

Her gaze switched from the blond grabbing his packs to the brown eyed brother still rubbing the back of his head. She rubs the back of his head with her nails quickly but pleasantly. "Come Marya, you are fine, gather your belongings." She grabbed her pack and bed roll before joining Fili.

"Amad, when we get to Mr. Boggins' will you braid my hair? I mean you were the one to make a mess of it, after all." Kalaera ignored the toothy grin Kili was sending her way and started walking down the path. "We have quite the walk ahead of us, you can only ignore me for so long!"

Her eyes met his and he realized his mistake far too late. "If your mother heard you calling me Amad she would hang both of us from the highest point of the mountains." The brunets adams apple bobbed up and down in a hard swallow. "As for my ability to ignore you the entire way there, my little Marya, I shall simply take another route. I have no concerns of being late." With that she was a blur, red hair somehow blending into the green around them all.

Fili's blue eyes met his brothers in an icy glare. "You just have to make her leave, she has the best pipe weed this side of the Misty Mountains." Grumbling the blond made his way down the path trying his best to ignore his brother. "You don't even wear braids brother!" he gave one last shout before hunching his shoulders and dragging his feet.

The calloused hand of an archer grabbed his shoulder and held him back. "It's okay to admit you missed her, I did too." Fili gave his brother a small smile before turning to take a stride. "Plus I know how much you don't like her braiding other people's hair. You get mighty jealous brother, but those skillful hands aren't just yours." The smile dropped into a glare once again, and he took in his brother's wicked smirk.

Kalaera Auverathem had no problems with walking casually down the paths running throughout the Shire, however once she looked up to the sky she was greeted with the fact that she was indeed very late. So she turned herself around and headed toward the hole in the ground across the quaint town of Hobbiton. Don't be fooled by how that sounds, Mr. Bilbo Baggins would be furious to hear it described as such. No this this was no ordinary hole, this was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort. The door that lay before her was green, a recently polished brass knob, and a rune faintly glowing a light blue carved into the bottom. She knocked firmly and waited for the door to be open and to be greeted. An unruly mop of curls is the first thing to catch her attention, the second was the exhausted eyes staring into her own, and finally she caught notice of plates flying through the air. The smile gracing her face dropped at the baritone voices that could be heard singing and causing the usual amount of mayhem.