Thank you to Starksundeaddaughter for requesting this oneshot! I hope you like it! I only have one more oneshot left to publish before requests are back open! Xx

She sat at the bank of the river, combing through her hair with her fingers. The robes she wore glistened in the light of the sun, as if they were made from gold. Her toes dipped in and out of the river beneath, as she balanced the balls of her feet on the surface. Tying her hair behind her head, she took to her feet.

In her hands, balanced a small, metal box, with a lever by the side. She twisted it once, twice, thrice- till her arm tired. Flipping the top open, a soft melody hummed from the box. She was washed over by contentment, and placed the music box to the floor. She found herself, as she always did, clasping the amulet around her neck. She then stepped onto the water.

It was hard to balance on the water. It wasn't as calm as it usually was- the water gurgled through her toes. But (Y/N) was always up for a challenge. Twirling, she moved her way across the surface of the river, moving in time to the tune of her music box. 

Nymphs had been perceived to be ancient beings. They wiser and older than the elves- perhaps even the world itself. They were not only protectors of the wild- they were it themselves. Roaming freely for centuries, they had lived like queens among the grasses and the meadows. There, they hid in plain sight, aiding and hindering the lives of men and elves alike.

(Y/N) was not as ancient- she recalled growing up alongside Galadriel, the Lady of Lothlórien. But that was long ago- she was now isolated in this corner of the earth. All she had left of her people was the box of melody and the silver amulet.

Loosing her balance, she splashed slightly, slipping under the cold water. She gasped, but managed to regain balance. She skidded over the surface, jumping and moving her arms elegantly. The river calmed itself, a lulled gently along with her, swirling and splashing to the tune as well.

Her heart stopped at the sound of footsteps. She stumbled, finding her way back to shore. Her robes loss their shine, flowering into a rich green as she touched ground. (Y/N) had meant to bend down to reach her music box, to be faced with a company of fourteen dwarves. She had not met dwarves before. By their expressions and the weapons on their sides, they meant harm.

The dwarf at the front, the one with the dark hair, stared gormless as her, utterly stupefied. He gazed down at her feet, and his grip loosened at his sword. She knew, then- he had seen her walk on water.

"What sort of sorceress are you?" a white-bearded dwarf cried.

(Y/N) twitched, taking a step back onto the water.

"Did you not hear me?!"

She flicked her wrist. The river mounted, waters rising from the depths like a panther rousing at dawn. It swirled around her, encasing her in a cyan cocoon. When the river returned to its usual state, the nymph was nowhere to be in sight.

"What was that?!" Dwalin bellowed.

Thorin, the head of the company, found his words stuck in his throat. He had to choke them out for the others to hear. "Nymph."

"What?"

"Nymph. Has to be."

"Nymphs are just fairy stories."

"Then what do you suppose that was? Elves can't walk on water."

"It doesn't mean it's a nymph."

"Then what was it?"

The company looked beyond the lake, trying to find any indication of what they had just witnessed. A soft melody hummed through their ears, as they crept closer to the water edge. All of a sudden, the tune halted, and they were left feeling empty. 

There wasn't a trace left of that creature- so they moved forward.

The nymph crouched in her hovel, sighing in disdain. Those dwarves had seen her! They had crossed her territory! (Y/N) had never been fond of outsiders. Many encounters in the past had involved her being caged and used as a weapon. She was not viewed as an individual; just power. All anyone saw was what they could take from her. Thank goodness she had the might to defend herself against such delinquency.

Her only worry was the music box. The tune that played was a unique one, one that had been played for generations by her people. When she was sure the coast was clear, she came out from her hiding place. To her horror, the box was nowhere in sight.

Thieves! she seethed, spinning around to growl at the ground.

Scanning the floors around her, treads marks were marked in the wet mud that was stuck between mops of soaked grass. Their footprints impeded over the whole area, treadding over all the the greenery and painting it dark. Swishing her robes, she pounded the ground with her feet, marching in the direction that the dwarves had gone in. They'd ruined her home, and they had taken her prized possession. Now they'd suffer her wrath.

The company halted, and began setting up camp. Thorin sat by a pile of logs, scraping a stone over the edge of a fire-striker. The sparks kept missing the edge of the wood, or simply weren't fervent enough to fly over to burn. They limply descended to the ground, or occasionally decided to burn the dwarf's fingers. Each time, he groaned and winced with increasing agitation. But when the fire finally emerged, he smiled, forgetting the throbbing pain on his thumb.

Thorin wondered about that nymph. He didn't know why he thought it was it nymph- he had been told all his life that they were fiction. Something in the way she walked, the glisten of her skin, the rare robes that she wore; he was watching the fairy tales come true. The corner of his lip upturned, the thought of the creature bringing a blush to his cheeks.

"Thorin."

The dwarf suddenly looked up, finding Bofur with a bowl. "Here. Something to eat."

He nodded. "Thank you, Bofur."

With an exchange of smiles, Bofur left as Thorin began to eat the stew. It wasn't the best thing you could find on the road, but it was better than anything Balin could make.

After a hearty meal, they all settled down to sleep. The great Oakenshield, however, could not give into his slumber. Thorin's mind was still plagued by the image of that nymph. This fascination was odd to say the least. There was nothing apparent about her other than her sloping face, with gentle features that brew up a storm when challenged. She wasn't just afraid when they had passed; she was enraged. The dwarf wondered why.

For a moment, there was silence. Then the leaves began to bristle. The trees groaned, as their branches were pulled back and their leaves were plucked. Thorns and thistles whispered callously, ghost-like in their mutters. The flowers flung to the ground, noiseless and helpless, as the delicate things they were. The gelid wind lashed like a whip to all their backs, the thundering noise echoing incessantly.  

They all were awake by then, hair flapping in the air like a flag.

Thorin desperately searched around them, finding nothing but darkness. "Where are you, nymph!? Where are you?!"

"աɦɛʀɛ ɖօ ʏօʊ ȶɦɨռӄ?!"

"Please! We mean no harm!"

The wind swirled faster, the leaves billowing up into the air.

"աɦɛʀɛ ɨֆ ɨȶ?"

"W-where's...where's what?"

"ȶɦɛ ʍʊֆɨƈ ɮօӼ!"

Thorin stared off in the distance, lost for words. A music box!?

"We don't have your music box!"

"ɖօռ'ȶ ȶɦɨռӄ ʟɨɛֆ աɨʟʟ ֆǟʋɛ ʏօʊ, ɮɛƈǟʊֆɛ ȶɦɛʏ աօռ'ȶ. ռօա աɦɛʀɛ ɨֆ ɨȶ?!"

"I told you! We don't--"

"Thorin..."

He turned helplessly back to his companions, finding a sheepish Nori hiding something under his arm. "Is this what the lass was talking about?" He pulled out a small, beautifully crafted box with a silver clasp. No sooner had he revealed it, did the wind die out and the leaves drift to the floor.

Out from the trees, a woman in robes and undoubtable beauty emerged, and took the music box from Nori. She grasped it as if it were her baby, and clutched it to her chest. Her eyes bored through each of the dwarves, and the hobbit.

"I warn you not to take anything from a nymph ever again."

"Bless my beard. You are a nymph!" Balin cried, standing to bow. "They said you kind were all but gone."

"Well they were wrong. There are a few left."

"They say nymphs have unimaginable wisdom."

"Well they're wrong. We're creatures as much as the rest of you, I'm no weapon!" 

She took several steps back, eyes beseeching. Thorin shook his head and held his hands up i surrender.

"We are not going to harm you, nymph. We promise. I'd like to apologise for the music box, one of the reckless members of my company thought they could steal it."

Nori bowed his head in shame.

"It is fine. What is your name, dwarf?"

"Thorin. And yours?"

"(Y/N). May I ask, Thorin, what are dwarves doing in these parts?"

"Well, we're..." Thorin stammered, avoiding her gaze. 

"Yes?"

"We're travellers."

"Travelling where?"

"Everywhere."

Balin smiled, "We're going to reclaim Erebor."

"Balin!" Thorin cried. 

"Well, maybe I can be of help," she said. A smile crept over her lips, one that made Thorin want to smile too. But he could not be distracted by that now.

"Yeah, have you ever killed a dragon before? Ever fought anyone before?"

"I may not be informed, but I am in no way inept. Perhaps I am niave, but I think my abilities could come in handy."

"I..." Thorin looked back to his company for support, to find them all smiling. It wasn't that he didn't want her to tag along, he only feared her walking into something far bigger than she expected. But with no counter argument, he could only accept her into the company of dwarves and a hobbit.

And so he fell asleep with a blush staining his cheeks. He did not realise the nymph that lay a few metres from him was as flummoxed as he.