Disclaimer: I don't own The Hobbit, I just write fanfics for fun not profit!

A/N: I love Fili and Kili and their brotherness, and this idea popped up in my head soon after I watched the movie. It wouldn't go away, so here we are! It's movie-verse, mainly, though eventually I'll be throwing in some things from the book and other Tolkien works. :)

Like Everything That's Green

Chapter 1

Clover, elf's hair, chase-devil. Camy brushed an earth-and-plant stained hand through the woven basket sitting in her lap, separating out the various flowers, herbs and berries she had collected. The young hobbit girl was sitting under a redwood by the little stream that ran through her and Mim's vale, her green dress just as dirty as her fingers. It was late afternoon, fading fast into dusk, and she had been out of doors for most of the day, gathering the plants that she and Mim used to make their living as well as finding kindling for their fireplace.

Hmm, lavender, dandelion, elderberry, marigold. Even a few pickings of chamomile, her namesake. Her basket was nearly full of the plants Mim had asked for, but she wanted to find a few more things that she thought would be helpful. Particularly the ingredients for what might be a very fine, strong tea, if it turned out as she hoped.

She plucked a few marigold blooms from the basket and picked up her wide-brimmed hat from where she had set it by her side. The tip of her tongue slid into the corner of her mouth as she stuck the flowers in just the right spot in the broad blue ribbon that wrapped around the hat. Other flowers, dried and beautiful in a simple treasured memory way were already tucked into the ribbon. When she was satisfied with the aesthetic, she put the hat back on over her honey-colored curls and nearly disappeared under its wide, floppy brim.

"Might need a new hat soon, Bert, this one's near full."

Camy slipped the basket onto the crook of her arm as she stood up and walked over toward the old donkey. He didn't even lift his head from chewing grass. Pulling the cart always made him tired, the poor old thing, but it really wasn't that much firewood. She couldn't pick up any big pieces of tree or long branches, so she mainly was tasked with collecting kindling.

Lifting the donkey's head by his cheery yellow halter, embroidered with a pattern of thistles and hay, she led him on down the path. Peppermint would be perfect for the tea she wanted to make, and she knew the perfect patch where she could pick as much as she wanted.

If Mim believed in organizing plants, they might have had a garden with orderly rows for all of their herbs and flowers, but Mim didn't like gardens. She thought they stifled plant growth and ruined their, whatchamacallit, potency. That's why the plants were allowed to grow willy-nilly about the tiny valley without any tending except for clipping them back when they sprawled into the paths and Camy's favorite hiding spots. The air of the vale was thick with the smells of spices and herbs and all manner of growing things.

However, the patch of peppermint she wanted was outside of the Living Gate. That meant it would be beyond the protection spell that the wizard had put there years ago, when Mim was young and Camy wasn't even a whisper of a thought in the world. But there hadn't been goblins or orcs on the mountain for a couple weeks now, and it was still daylight. They didn't dare to show their ugly faces in the light. Still, Mim wouldn't like her going out there, especially alone, but Camy was nearly thirty and almost an adult now, at least in the eyes of hobbits. She could go out past the gate if she wanted to…

Besides, she wasn't alone. She had Bert.

Camy led Bert down the pebbled path to the Living Gate, humming a bumble bee song to herself. It was a warm afternoon, like summer was breathing its last before it let fall get a good, solid grip on the earth.

"I think honey would go nice in the tea," she told Bert, "Peppermint, honey and something more. Maybe cinnamon." He plodded along with her, not as enthused as she was about the components of her new creation judging by his lack of reaction.

They reached the border between the vale and the world in a few minutes, and both girl and donkey stopped. The Living Gate was invisible. It was a spell of protection that stretched between the two huge mountain pines that stood on either side of the small entrance into the vale. As long as those trees stood, the spell would stand as well.

The donkey was far more used to going beyond the vale since he went with Mim to sell their wares in the village of Arrowsway, about a week's journey, there and back. But for the girl, this would be the sixth time she had left the vale, never going farther than a few hundred feet from the entrance, and it would be the very first time that Mim wasn't with her.

"Well," she said, drawing herself up to her full height, which was over three feet but less than four, "It's not as if goblins are going to jump out of the bushes the moment I step outside…"

Bert chuffed and plodded forward as if agreeing with her. In actuality, he was probably just eager to get at the bright green clover on the other side of the gate. Camy moved along with him, her fingers threading through his halter again, more for comfort than control this time.

As they passed through the spell of the Living Gate, she held her breath. It wasn't really necessary, but she was always secretly a little nervous that the spell wouldn't let her back in again. But as long as she spoke the words Mim had taught her years ago, she knew the gate would allow her entrance and then close again, a guard against the dark mountains and the wide world, a few moments after she passed through. It let you out without words, but if you didn't know them, you would never get back in, even if you knew where the vale was.

When she was on the other side, she glanced back at the gate behind her and saw the illusion of the rock wall. If she went up and brushed her hand against it, she knew it'd feel just like scratchy granite, at least until she said the entrance spell.

Turning back toward the wide forest, she headed for where she knew the peppermint patch was, Bert walking with a perky gait beside her in the prospect of reaching the juicy clovers. Around them, the forest was a deep, late summer green, and the ground was blanketed with last autumn's crinkled offerings. Above her, the mountains threatened; Mim's vale was so close to the mountains, it always felt like they were looming over the tiny valley. In truth, the vale was more like a wide crevice in the mountainside, but Mim called it a vale, so Camy did too.

Her bare feet were silent on the fallen leaves and twigs as she walked, but she felt exposed outside of the protection of the vale. But…she didn't completely hate it. There was something in her that felt a thrill at the idea that she wasn't completely shielded, that she was stepping into the world, even if she was only going a little ways.

That excitement evaporated like water in a hot skillet when something rustled nearby. She snapped up, her back suddenly a piece of straight steel that demanded obedience. Her eyes were wide as she looked around, hoping it was just a rabbit or a badger. The goblins rarely came this far down the mountain, she reminded herself, and never in daylight. Never. So it had to be a badger. Yes.

Camy reached over and patted Bert's nose. "Just a critter," she said, "Nothing too bad." She started walking again, now looking around for restless badgers and rabbits. It was silly to be afraid of forest creatures, and that's all it could be.

There it was again, the rustling, and this time it was accompanied by a soft groan. Camy backed up against Bert, looking everywhere for an injured rabbit, even though she knew that noise wasn't a rabbit noise. Oh… Slowly, cautiously, she turned and peeked around Bert's broad grey neck.

At first, she didn't notice anything out of place, but just when she was about to blame everything on her own nervousness, she noticed a big boot sticking out from behind a large hardwood tree. She bit both of her lips and curled her fingers into Bert's short mane as she ducked back behind him, heart pounding.

There was someone in the forest. Were they coming after her, had they seen her, what about Bert? She peeped around Bert again. The boot moved a bit, more of a twitch than a deliberate movement. By the way the sole of the boot was pointed out, whoever it belong to had to be sitting against the tree. So they weren't after her, that was a relief. But were they friend or foe? Camy couldn't tell, she had never met either. The only person she had ever talked to in her life was Mim, and she was family…

Another stifled groan. It sounded like the person was in a lot of pain, maybe. Mim made noises like that when her arthritis was getting to her. Were they hurt? The healer in her, trained but largely untried, automatically woke up and decided it wanted to address the situation, but her practical side held her back. What if it was a boot-wearing goblin? Or some kind of orc that liked footwear?

The need to investigate won out, but she reached into the cart and pulled out her small hatchet that she used to chop up kindling. She had never used it for anything besides wood-chopping, and she doubted she could use it for anything besides that, but she didn't want to go unarmed. Moving with care, she moved around Bert, who huffed into her hat as she walked in front of him.

"Hello?" she said softly as she approached the boot. There was only silence for an answer. "Hello…boot-wearer?"

Even before she had rounded the tree, the smells hit her nose. Blood and fire, both heavy and forceful as they seeped into her nose. She shook her head and hurried forward, ducking around the tree. If it was possible, her brown eyes widened even more at the sight before her.

It was a dwarf. Or at least she thought it was, she wasn't sure; she'd never actually seen one before. And it was hard to make out exactly what he was when he was covered in blood and soot and wounds. There was an open gash on his face, right on his left cheek, and the blood had drenched his neck and the furry collar of his coat. His hair, disheveled and braided, was reddish-blond in-between the streaks of rusty blood, and his face, strong-featured with a sturdy nose, was dark with blood and smoke trails. Even with his face a mess, he looked young, though maybe a little older than herself... It was difficult to tell, but he didn't seem old. His eyes were closed, and his head was tilted back against the tree; it seemed like he had wedged himself in front of a hollow in the big tree but hadn't gone inside.

The smell of blood made her gag a little but worry moved her toward him. One of his legs looked awkwardly bent at the ankle, and his clothes were ripped, showing other wounds that she hadn't noticed completely at first. Patches of dark red blood soaked his clothes, and there was lots of it, maybe too much for it to only be his if he was still alive.

He was gripping two swords, one in each hand, though they were both lying on the ground at the moment. Another weapon, a small ax of some kind, was nearby, as if it was dropped when he didn't have enough strength left to carry it. It must have been the goblins that had gotten to him, the ones who called the mountains home.

The dwarf looked barbaric and wild but also hurt and in need of serious help. Camy pushed her floppy hat back quickly from her face so that it rested on her back, and she knelt down by the dwarf's side, putting her hatchet to the side. He seemed unconscious…maybe he was dead. Camy's thundering heart clenched. He looked too young to be dead, at least to her, and it wouldn't be right or fair if he was and to have died alone out here in the forest.

Hesitantly, she reached out toward him, to find a heartbeat where his collar brushed his neck. The instant her fingers touched him, he jerked awake and his hand dropped the sword it had been holding and darted up to snatch her fingers. She yelped as he squeezed hard and yanked her to the side, away from himself. His eyes were incredibly blue and very disoriented, and he narrowed them as he lifted the other sword to her throat. He coughed, a harsh sound, and then spoke, his deep voice rough with smoke.

"Who are you?"

A/N: Reviews are always appreciated! ^_^