Lost little souls

Chapter 1 Radioactive

Imagine Dragons

Things to remind people of BEFORE you read this fic.

1) It is an AU. An extreme AU.

2) In this fic, the races age the same. However, when they get to a certain age they might age slower. This is for the sake of what will happen MUCH later.

3) All of my chapter titles are song titles. It is to give the reader a feeling for the chapter before they read it and as a little coming attraction for the next chapter.

4) Words in italic are thoughts.

One last thing before you start…Disclaimer: I do not own anything of Tolkin's because if I did, things would have turned out differently. I also don't own the music.

ENJOY!

The rain fell heavily, soaking the ground beneath the refugees' feet making it little more than mud. But still they trekked on. What choice did they really have? Thought Thorin. This people needed a place to stay. Many were sick, especially children. Many had died during their journey including Dis, leaving her two young sons in his care.

Looking out of the corner of his eyes he saw Kili and Fili trudging behind him. Neither said a word or complained but the looks on their faces were unmistakable. How can I protect my people, if I can not even save my family? He thought.

"Don't worry, laddie. Everything will work out." Balin said coming up next to him. "There should be a village in a mile or so." Thorin was extremely grateful to Balin and his vast knowledge of the world. "However, it might be best if only a few go ahead." While the old dwarf didn't want to tell his king what to do, he could tell that Thorin needed some advice.

"Agreed" Grunted Thorin. Turning to his people, he informed them that they were to stop while he and a few others would journey ahead to see if the village would give them shelter. A rock formed in the pit of this stomach as he heard a little, wet cough coming from an area near Dori. A cough. That's how it always started. Before death came.

Accompanied only by Balin, Thorin traveled to the village gate. Please, Mahal, give us shelter. He prayed before he banged on the wooden gate that surrounded the village. A wooden latch opened, reveling a pair of eyes. "What do you want?" The annoyed voice asked.

"We seek shelter for a few days. Among us we have skilled workers who are willing to work just for entrance into your village." A pregnant pause followed. Thorin hated lowering himself to begging but what choice did he have. Before the king could open his mouth, the man on the other side spoke up in a harsh voice that could cut diamonds. "We do need the likes of you here! Leave before I call the guards." Slamming the eye panel shut.

This had been the reaction his people had received many times before. However, his people need protection even for one night! "Please!" He begged as he banged the wooden gate with his fist. "We have children with us." His cries fell on deaf ears.

"Lad." Thorin looked over his shoulder to see his old friend. "You did your best. Let's go back. Tomorrow will be better." The reassuring smile only confirmed Thorin's feeling of defeat.

His hand still on the gate, he began to slide down to his knees. There he sat for a while. His head leaning against the barrier to civilization. The heavy rain and mud soaking his furs, making him look more pitiful than ever. He didn't even want to think about the picture that he would present to his people when he returned. But how could he return. Once again, he had failed. This people would once again be forced to spend a night in the forest where they were at the whim of the elements and of potential enemies. What hope could he give his people? They had no destination, no goal to reach. At this moment it was purely survival and nothing else.

Behind him, Thorin could hear the sloshing of muddy foot step. "Thorin Oakensheild, King Under the Mountain. It has been a while." The voice that carried those words was warmer than the forges that once burned in Erebor.

Turning his head, he laid eyes on the gray wanderer. "Gandalf."

"It seems that this village is a bit inhospitable. Perhaps it would be wise to find a location to settle down." Gandalf suggested.

Thorin couldn't help but bark at such a suggestion. Of course finding a place would be nice, but where? The mountains were no place for this people at the moment. Too many of them were weak or sick. Going there would be suicide, even if that is where dwarves are meant to live. "And where, Oh Great Wizard, would you have us go?"

Balin would see the edges of wizards mouth twitch as a smile formed. "I know of a place. It is less than a day from Bree. The winters are much milder than in the mountain. The people are kind and respect hard work. I could tell you more, if you would like?"

Before Thorin had a chance to speak, another pair of footsteps could be heard. A much smaller and lighter set. "Uncle." The king did not need to turn around to know it was his heir, Fili. "Ori is sick again."

Only rain could be heard after the lad spoke. Not a soul moved, the weight and implications were clear. If something didn't happen soon, Ori would be joining his mother on the other side.

"Now, this will just not do!" Gandalf said as he walked to the gate. "The lad needs shelter." With his staff, the wizard banged on the wooden blockade.

"How does he do it?" Murmured Thorin as he and Balin sat at a table in cheap local inn. His people had been given shelter, along with food and medicine for a few days. In exchange, the dwarves would use their skills to improve the crumpling buildings around them.

A large hand came to rest on his shoulder. "Most do not wish to anger a wizard. Even if he is with dwarves." Laughed Dwalin before he took a seat next to his older brother.

While Thorin knew it was charity that gave them entrance into the town, but he was not about to forsake it. At least his people had a place to stay for a few days. Especially the sick ones. His eyes roamed the room that they were in. Crudely made wooden furniture decorated the dreary room, even the fireplace, despite the fact that a roaring fire was blazing, gave little character to the room. But the king knew, at the moment, the fire was vital. Near it he could spy a bundle of knitted blankets with a tuff of red hair sticking out from inside and a silver haired dwarf softly singing a lullaby while stroking the bundle.

The scene was heart breaking. How many times had Dori sat near this baby brother hoping that he would heal? Would this be the last time? If it was, he knew three lives would be snuffed out. Losing the youngest could quiet literally kill Dori and Nori. Nori…that thief left the group in favor of Bree, thinking it would be a better place to blend in and "work". At least he would send money when they reached a town. In the back of his mind, Thorin always wondered how Nori knew where they were.

"I fear the little one will not survive much long unless we find a place we can truly stay." sighed Dwalin. "I spoke with Oin; he would recommend for the lad to rest in a warm home and eat good food. However, I do not know of a place that would give us that." While it was no secret that Dwalin had issues with Nori, he respected Dori and all that he tried to do for his brothers. Especially the little one. The little one, so soft, small and frail caused a soft spot to form in his other wise hardened heart. Perhaps it was his sweet smile…

"Perhaps, I could be of assistance." Smiled the wizard taking a seat at the table. Thorin eyed the old one cautiously, what was he up to? What was the catch? But for now, he bit his tongue.

"As I said before, there is a place near Bree called the Shire. There it is full of rolling green hills, fresh and clean streams, orchards and gardens. A forest lays not too far which is perfect for hunting, if you so choice."

"What of its people? It be them we had the most trouble with." Dwalin grumbled unable to hide his hate from those who shunned them.

A twinkle arose in the gray one's eyes. "Now we are getting to my favorite part. The shire is inhabited by beings called "Hobbits". They-"

"Aren't they some kind of rabbit?" Laughed Dwalin.

"Hush. Let Mister Gandalf speak." Reprimanded Balin. "Please continue"

"Well, that is a good point. Hobbits are a bit like rabbits. They are smaller than dwarves and do live underground in homes that are like burrows. Now that I think about it, they do have many children…But if I must be honest, hobbits are more like a cross between elves and dwarves." Gandalf knew that he was on ice in late winter when he likened the hobbits to elves by the look on Thorin's face. "Let me explain. Like the elves, they hold manners in a certain regard and they tend to be quiet. However, they are more like dwarves. They are extremely hard working, love good food and drink and especially music. At their parties, you can hear the music from all over the shire. And of course, they are very dedicated to their families and friends. If that wasn't enough, they have wonderful pipe tobacco and even better pipe weed!"

The trio of dwarves was silent for a moment. Although the hobbits were foreign to the dwarves, the truth was, they didn't have much choice. Gazing into their companions' eyes, it was agreed upon. They would go to the shire.

To be continued….

The song for the next chapter is "Float on" by Modest Mouse.