So this chapter ended up being a bit short. I didn't plan this part out much, and I'm admittedly just skipping ahead to get to the "fun stuff." The next chapter should be a bit more longer and, well, fun!

And just so you know, I'm no relation to Tolkien, and I own none of these characters. But that would be fun.

"It was a dwarf, I tell you!"

The wail echoed through the Dwarven settlement, startling the occupants awake. Thorin sprang to his feet, grabbed his cloak, and ran for the door. His father was already there, peering past the blanket at the band of men marching their way. Torches above the dark heads, and the barest bit of daylight could be seen brightening the distant horizon.

"This bodes ill," Thrain said. "Let's settle the matter." There was no denying the Kingship in the Dwarf's bearing. As he approached the frenzied crowd, they settled a little bit, held under control by the presence of Royalty, though he was clothed in rags and wore no crown. "What's going on here?" Thrain asked, his hands at his belt and his head thrown back a little. "Why do you disturb us?"

"There's been a murder in our town! Dirty work – done by a Dwarf, no less!" The man, apparently the leader of the riot, shook his finger in the Dwarf lord's face. "One of our own, bereft of life, because one of your wild spawn wanted a bit of sport!"

Thrain kept his head, though the insult grated at him. Flying into a fury would only get his people into more trouble. "I will find the culprit and see that he is justly punished, according to our laws," he said. "You have my deepest condolences for your loss."

"It's a lie! He's only covering up? A Dwarf would never punish his own flesh and blood for such a deed!" Voices from the crowd shouted angry threats, waving torches and swords in the air. "Bring your son before us, for we must have vengeance!"

"My son?!" Thrain stiffened. "What does he have to do with this?"

"He's the murderer! Don't deny it!"

From where he stood in the doorway of the house, Thorin could feel his anger rise, deep inside his chest. A weaker sort might have turned to hide, afraid of what might come, but he only stepped outside, his shoulders tight. "I deny it!" he said, his voice dangerously low. "I have done no harm to anyone!"

"No harm, you say?" Little brown-haired Grim pushed his way through the crowd, two of his three brothers right behind him. "Look at our hands!" They displayed the small sword cuts Thorin had given them earlier. "Do you deny giving these to us? You know they are from your sword!"

Thorin saw the trap, but what could he do? He would not lie, not with his siblings behind him, listening; not with his father beside him, listening; not with everyone knowing who had done it. So he raised his head a little, imitating his grandfather. "Yes, I did attempt to teach you a lesson when you were tormenting helpless children, but I think you learned nothing from it."

"So it was him! He doesn't deny it!" The crowd was nearing a frenzy, inching closer and closer. They had tasted blood, and it goaded them on, hungry for more. "Kill him!"

"You just can't go executing royalty!" Thrain roared, stepping in front of his son. "Are you such lawless creatures as that?"

"Banishment! We'll banish him! Never to be seen in these lands again, lest he forfeit his own life!" The governor of the small town tried to settle the angered crowd. "He will learn the meaning of suffering!"

Thrain put a hand on his son's shoulder, and the two stoically waited the storm out. Many men would not be appeased except by the dwarf's own death, but slowly they were brought over to banishment, though perhaps a bit grudgingly. And so the decision was (almost) unanimous: the punishment for the (supposed), murder would be banishment.

"It could be worse, Thorin," Thrain said softly. "Go to Dain, in the Iron Hills."

"But I didn't do it!" Thorin hissed. "It's all a filthy lie!"

"And how are you going to prove it? They want your blood! It's best you take this and leave while you still have your life!" Thrain jabbed a finger at the younger dwarf. Thorin opened his mouth to reply, but his father turned away, stomping through the mud back towards their small house. As soon as the dwarf was out of sight, the crowd surged upon Thorin, grabbing him by his hair, his shirt, his arms, screaming and shouting in vengeance and complete madness. Thorin roared, kicking and fighting back, but a blow to the head stilled him, and he fell into darkness.