Ok I'm back with the long awaited chapter five. Thanks SO MUCH to all my reviewers and followers and favoriters (pretty sure that's not a word but oh well). So as you can tell some tensions are appearing between the people in the company especially between Nimroel and a certain pair of dwarf princes. As you can see I'm loosely sticking to what happened/dialogue in the movie but not fully so get mad if I change a few things. After all, I do have an OC to fit in here somewhere. And finally, I do not own anything so thanks for reading!

Chapter 5: The Competition

Nimroel awoke early the next morning to biting cold and an ashy fire pit beside her. Kili and Fili slept noiselessly beside her, their mats pushed close together for warmth. As she examined the two dwarf princes, memories of the night before began to drift back to her. It felt as if ice had been poured down her back when Nimroel's eyes landed on Kili's face. What had she said last night? Fear gripped her and she quickly averted her eyes from the young dwarf's sleeping figure. And then she remembered. A small groaned escaped her lips and Nimroel moved to gather her things. Why did I tell him? Would he be angry? Would she be sent back to the Shire? Nimroel was not one for talking back, but she had been surprised by the dwarf prince's concern and had shared it with him. And not in the nicest of ways she thought, rolling up her sleeping mat and tucking it into her bag. Getting to her feet silently, Nimroel tiptoed away from the sleeping figures of her company mates and into the woods where the horses were tied up.

Moving through the grazing figures of the horses, Nimroel finally laid eyes upon hers: a black male she had named Eago. It was a name she had come across while reading one of Gandalf's scrolls and upon seeing Eago had felt it was a fitting name for her horse. Nimroel approached him slowly, setting her pack down next to her saddle and pads. Eago lifted his head to her outstretched hand; his muzzle was soft and soothing to Nimroel. Taking this as a sign that she was free to pet him Nimroel moved to his side, running her fingers through his man and pulling out twigs and pieces of grass.

"It must be nice to be a horse," she mumbled, pressing her forehead against his neck. Nimroel knew she was still moping about the night before, but it felt nice to be able to speak her mind without having to worry about offending anyone. "You can just run away when things frighten you, can't you?" she said, letting her fingers wander over his soft hide. Eago did not respond to her touch and continued to graze. "My dad used to ride, did you know that? Gandalf told me. When he found him, he was wearing riding clothes. My mom must have been sharing the saddle with him." Eago picked his head up sharply, hearing the shift in her tone, but quickly lowered it once he realized that she was not offering him food. "Their horse must have bucked them right off when the wargs came. Not that I blame them," Nimroel muttered. And she didn't. Although Nimroel missed her parents dearly and regretted that she never had the opportunity to know them, she did have a family. Uncle Eddy had taken her in and treated her like a daughter for as long as she could remember. Nimroel did have a family, even if it wasn't her original one. Sighing, she plopped down into the grass next to Eago.

"Where do you think we're going Eago? I know to the Lonely Mountain but where in between? I've read ever so much about the world and there is so much I want to see." She gave her horse a knowing look before continuing. "The Misty Mountains sound beautiful, and so does Mirkwood," Nimroel mused, her mind wandering back to her readings. "Do you think we might go to Rivendell?" But the thought was so ridiculous Nimroel let out a snort of disgust. But a feeling was growing inside her until it was so powerful that it finally burst out as laugher. The sound rang across the forest clearing, causing the horses to throw their ears in her direction and a pair of birds to take flight. But Nimroel didn't mind that she was making so much noise. She had been so stressed for the past few days worrying about the journey and about her lineage and about being accepted that she had not managed to enjoy herself. Her laughter kept coming, racking her body with gasping breaths and causing her to roll back into the grass. When at last she found her breath, Nimroel realized she felt decidedly better.

"That was a silly question, wasn't it, Eago?" Nimroel said, leaning forward to stroke his muzzle. Eago ignored her. "They would never go to Rivendell. They hate elves."

Suddenly from the far side of the clearing Nimroel heard a sharp cracking sound and saw the sturdy figure of Thorin emerge from the trees. His long hair was perfectly brushed back and his ornate furs carefully arranged; only the light bags under his eyes gave away his exhaustion from the trip. He approached Nimroel slowly, his face carefully controlled so that even perceptive Nimroel couldn't read his thoughts. What does he want Nimroel wondered, her happiness from the moment before suddenly less. When he had finally reached her, Thorin stopped and began to speak.

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Thorin paused for just a moment and then spoke.

"We heard a noise and I came to see if everything was okay with the horses. Is everything alright?" The question came our harsher than he had intended, but then again he had not planned on running into the half-breed. She stared up at him in surprise, her golden eyes searching his face for some kind of clue. Thorin noticed the way her lips pressed together just slightly and he mentally punched himself for the way he had spoken. She's perceptive, I'll give her that.

"Certainly. I did not mean to disturb you." Her voice was perfectly neutral and he saw Nimroel's usual blank look slide onto her face. He had seen the look many times, especially when she was riding. This blank face was often accompanied by a sympathetic or worried look on Bilbo's face, but he did not know what it meant.

"What were you doing?" Thorin snapped, angry that he had been awoken and forced to check on this measly half-breed for nothing.

"I was laughing," Nimroel replied, her voice quaking with fear. As she said this, Thorin remembered her unnervingly beautiful laughter that sounded like a mixture of birdsong and falling water. If I did not know she was half man I would think her an elf. This thought nagged at the back of his mind as he stared down at the girl.

She wore simple clothes: brown leather tights, boots, and a long white tunic. Her caramel colored curls fell in neat spirals down her back, although sometimes she pulled her mane back into a single braid down her back. He had noticed that her face was often flushed with excitement or embarrassment, usually full of life, but when she was cast into a situation she was uncomfortable with she shut down completely. She is weak; she cannot stand up for herself Thorin thought happily, reveling in her faults.

"Well then attempt to be quieter, Nimroel," he said harshly. He saw her flinch, but he didn't care. Being around her this early in the morning had put him in a bad mood, especially after her comment about the dwarves avoiding Rivendell. "I know that elves are not the most considerate of the races, but I figured since you are a half-breed you might have learned some manners by now." He saw how his jibe hit her, knowing that he had offended the hobbit side of her by calling her out on a lack of manners. To his dismay though, she did no more than allow a spark of fear seep through her golden eyes before she had regained control of her face. Spinning in frustration at her lack of reaction, Thorin stormed away from the girl before he said something truly nasty.

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Nimroel felt another wave of exhaustion wash over her, but it did nothing to dampen her cheery spirits. Even her short conversation with Thorin that morning had only managed to bring her down for only a few minutes. She and Bilbo had rode next to each other the whole day swapping stories and gazing with appreciation at the world outside the Shire. Nimroel noticed with some dismay, however, that although Bilbo was putting on a brave face he was not as fond of the outside world as her. She knew he still longed for his old Bag End. Well at least he has me in this madness Nimroel reminded herself, proud that she could be there to support her friend through his worry.

"Tell me another story, Nimroel?" Bilbo asked, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. Nimroel racked her memory for a moment until finally landing upon a suitable story for her mood.

"Did I ever tell you about the time I was learning to shoot and I ruined Hamfast Cotton's prize pumpkin?" She asked, the memory bringing a smile to her face.

"No I don't think you have," he said, his face eager as she got comfortable in her saddle to tell the story.

"Well, it was many years ago when I was only fifteen. I had received a package of scrolls the month previous from Gandalf and several of them instructed me in the art of making and shooting bows and arrows." Nimroel remembered how she had stayed awake late into the night to read the manuals with fondness. "I finished reading them near the end of summer and it was another fortnight before I had made a bow that was passable enough to learn on." She heard a snort from behind her and realized with dismay that Fili and Kili were listening, but she continued anyways. "It was near the middle of autumn when I felt ready to attempt some shooting so I took a hay bale from the barn and rolled it up on top of a small knoll in the field next to my house." Bilbo listened intently as Nimroel spun her tale.

"My first couple rounds were terrible and I had gone to collect my arrows three times already before I finally realized that I was dropping my arms when releasing and sending the arrow straight into the ground." Nimroel dropped her reins for a moment and demonstrated the motion with her hands. "On my fourth round I hit the ground next to the hay bale once or twice, which was a huge improvement from before," she said knowingly. "But I kept thinking that I was not using the right angle and so I tilted the bow back more and sent the arrow loose. Well of course this was the best one I had released yet even if it did go flying over the hay bale and into the field behind the knoll. But I was ever so happy, Bilbo, because I thought I was doing it right." At this Nimroel let out a small giggle, knowing what came next at her story. "I thought I was at the right angle and so I used up the rest of my arrows, sending every single one of them over the hay bale. And then when I went to collect them…" she tilted her head back in laughter.

"Oh it was awful. I thought it was just another field behind the knoll but it was Mr. Cotton's new pumpkin patch that he had bought the year previous. The worst part of it all though," she spluttered out between fits of giggles, "was that I had hit his prize pumpkin." At this point both she and Bilbo were dying from laughter. She supposed from the silence behind her that this was something only amusing to a hobbit, but for once she didn't mind. "It was the big six foot wide one he had been showing off to the neighborhood for a fortnight. And I didn't just hit it once. I hit the thing five times."

"Well, what did he do?" Bilbo asked, his cheeks flushed from laughter.

"Well at first all he did was yell at me, but then when he had calmed down a little he marched up the hill and rolled the hay bale down into his own barn claiming that I owed him. And that was that, although the old coot hasn't been as fond of me since," she said cheerfully, not at all worried that Hamfast Cotton held a grudge against her for damaging his pumpkin.

It was as the story ended that Nimroel realized Eago had stopped moving and that she and Bilbo were the only people still mounted. In front of them was a small, dilapidated shack. Nimroel noticed with some curiosity that the timbers still seemed sound, not rotted away, although the roof bore a gaping hole and one side had crumbled completely. As she dismounted, she also became aware of an extremely faint, but still apparent smell. It was wretched like a bad mix between rotting meat and blood. Crinkling her nose in distaste, she and Bilbo approached the cottage where Thorin was giving orders.

"We'll camp here for the night. Fili, Kili, look after the ponies. Make sure you stay with them," he commanded. The two princes bowed lowly before scampering back to the horses. Nimroel saw with some amusement that Gandalf was standing off to the side talking to himself and staring at the house in wonder. Just like him she thought fondly.

"A farmer and his family used to live here," he mumbled. Nimroel felt herself frown, not liking the sound of that.

"Oin, Gloin," Thorin called.

"Aye?"

"Get a fire going."

"Right you are." The two dwarves bustled off to look for firewood, but Nimroel only had eyes for Gandalf. His expression of wonder had darkened into one of fear.

"I think it would be wiser to move on. We could make for the Hidden Valley," he suggested, this time addressing Thorin. Nimroel felt her heart flutter at the sound of Rivendell. Elves she thought longingly. Maybe they would know my mother? But her excitement was short lived.

"I have told you already, I will not go near that place."

"Why not? The elves could help us. We could get food, rest, advice." The gray wizard seemed adamant about going there and Nimroel couldn't help but agree. Not having to hunt for her own food would be nice for a change.

"I do not need their advice."

"We have a map that we cannot read. Lord Elrond could help us."

"Help? A dragon attacks Erebor, what help came from the Elves? Orcs plunder Moria, desecrate our sacred halls, the Elves looked on and did nothing," Thorin seethed, his face red with rage. Nimroel felt as if bubble of air inside her had been popped. So that's why he hates me she realized sadly. She had always held her mother's race in high esteem and it hurt to learn that they were not above wrongdoing. "You ask me to seek out the very people who betrayed my grandfather and betrayed my father."

"You are neither of them. I did not give you that map and key for you to hold on to the past," Gandalf snapped. Nimroel had never seen her old mentor so angry.

"I did not know that they were yours to keep." Before Thorin could say any more Gandalf had stormed out of the tent, leaving a tense silence behind him. Bilbo paused for a moment and then ran after the wizard. Nimroel hear their conversation faintly.

"Everything alright? Gandalf, where are you going?"

"To seek the company of the only one around here who's got any sense," Nimroel smiled; she knew what was coming next.

"Who's that?" Bilbo asked, thinking there was someone around with a warm home and clean beds.

"Myself, Mr. Baggins! I've had enough of dwarves for one day." And then the wizard was gone, leaving a very disappointed hobbit in his wake.

Unable to bear the tension in the broken down cabin anymore Nimroel left, her boots falling silently upon the grass. Pulling her bow from her back Nimroel strung it with a bow and made her way into the woods.

Clearly something about this place had set Gandalf on edge which had in turn upset her. However, Nimroel was not content in waiting around for the wizard and had decided to go off hunting, seeing as she would have to provide her own dinner as usual. The woods were dark under the trees and the only sounds came from wind blowing occasionally through the leaves or the rustle of a night creature. Nimroel kept her bow taught, pointing the tip of the arrow wherever she looked so that she might be ready to shoot at a moment's notice.

After about an hour Nimroel found the opportunity she was looking for. From the corner of her eye she saw a small, furry nose peak its head out of a hole in the ground she had not noticed before. Moving silently, she positioned herself so that she was ready to strike. Nimroel exhaled and lifted her bow to her cheek so that she could stare down the shaft of the arrow. Releasing her breath one more time Edolin let go of the string and felt the arrow fly from her hand. A moment passed and then there was a thud as the creature fell to the ground—dead.

Springing to her feet, Nimroel went to collect the animal which turned out to be a rabbit. With a grimace she pulled her arrow from the body. Thankfully she had hit the creature in the eye and her arrow came out cleanly.

Nimroel made her way through the woods until she arrived in a field with the trees at her back. Far off to her left she could see the twinkle of the campfire and she turned her feet in that direction. As she moved, Nimroel admired the setting sun over the forest. If she strained her eyes she thought she could see a large green expanse off in the distance that could be the Shire. She smiled at the thought and continued towards the fire. The small flame flashed in and out of sight as she climbed up and down small hills; dried up grass crunched beneath her feet.

Suddenly as she topped on off the hills Nimroel heard a slicing sound to her right and before she had stopped to think she had dropped the rabbit and drawn and notched her bow in one motion. But as she turned to face the noise she found that an arrow was already pointed at her.

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Kili saw the speed of the half-breed's reaction as Fili drew his sword and was grudgingly impressed. She had surprised them when she topped the hill and both princes had immediately drawn their weapons before they had even realized who it was. Nimroel seemed just as surprised to see them and immediately unstrung her bow a placed her arrow back in her quiver. However Kili and Fili only lowered their weapons when they saw her turn to pick up her dead rabbit. For a moment the girl paused and then she approached the two of them, her movements stiff and hesitant.

"I could have shot you," Kili stated. He saw the girl flinch and once again he realized that he had spoken harshly.

"Did you actually think you were going to be able to use that thing?" Fili demanded, nodding at the bow in her hand. Nimroel remained silent, her face blank. Kili stared at the girl and shame welled up inside him. This was the first time he had been around her since her confession the previous night and he wasn't quite certain what to do with himself. Knowing that his brother was waiting on him to continue the jibe Kili blurted out the first thing that came to his mind.

"We heard your story today." Kili had meant it as a compliment to her storytelling abilities he realized with dismay. However, from the look on Fili and Nimroel's face, they had taken it as an insult assuming that he was talking about her lack of aim.

"I am certainly no bowman," she murmured after a moment.

"You certainly carry that thing around as if you were," Fili snorted. "How about a little competition?" Nimroel's eyes widened in fear.

"I would be certain that I would lose—" she started, but Fili interrupted her.

"Then you have nothing to lose! Come over here, dear Nimroel. I'll pick out the target." Placing two hands on the girl's shoulders he steered the half-breed until she stood next to Kili. He felt his skin prickle uncomfortable at her nearness and he groaned inwardly. I do not want to be around her brother! Surely you can see this? But Fili was enjoying himself too much and had already picked out the first target. Pointing to a sapling off in the distance he grinned at the pair of them.

"That will be your first target. The rules are first person to be farthest from a target three times in a row loses. Kili you're first." The young prince eyed his brother for a moment, trying to determine what he was trying to get out of this, but it appeared to Kili that Fili was just excited for some competition.

Stepping up Kili drew an arrow and notched his bow. He drew it back, exhaled, and released in one fluid motion. His arrow flew straight and true, landing about one and a half paces from the sapling.

"Good shot brother!" Fili called out. "You're next Nimroel." Kili was shocked to hear that all of Fili's usual menace when talking to Nimroel was gone. To his left Kili saw Nimroel take a halting step and draw an arrow. Her arm is shaking. She's not going to be able to shoot she's so afraid. She lifted the bow to her face and after a long moment let go. The arrow cut through the air with a whiz and struck the ground with a thud, inches from the base of the tree.

Kili felt his mouth fall open again in shock. She had managed to not only beat him but conquer all her emotions of fear and nervousness and make an amazing shot.

"It's just her elf blood," Fili said encouragingly but Kili just shook his head.

Their next target was a rock over the hill and after that a large tuft of wild onions. They shot for hours with neither of them ever losing three in a row. As time passed Kili felt himself grow more and more incredulous at Nimroel's skill. She never spoke a word and often sent Fili begging looks as if to say please let me leave. Kili won the winner take all round just after sunset when it became too dark to shoot, but he did feel accomplished for it. Nimroel had certainly beaten him in half of the matches if not more. She was the best archer he had ever met.

When Fili finally called an end Nimroel immediately rushed off and picked up her long forgotten rabbit. Kili watched her run off and before he knew what he was doing he followed her. Heavens, she moves fast Kili thought as he broke into a jog so he might catch up with her. When at last he was steps behind her he reached out with a hand and placed it on her shoulder and turned her around. Ignoring the way she tensed under his touch he spoke, not stopping to think about what he was saying.

"Nim? Where are you going? You just shot incredibly well, you don't have to run off cause you lost." Nimroel stared at him blankly. Suddenly Kili was aware of how close he was standing to her and his hand on her shoulder. Did I call her Nim? Dazed with shock and disgust at his own actions Kili quickly dropped his hand from her shoulder and backed away. All the while the young girl stared at him, her golden eyes a mix of curiosity and fear.

"I must prepare my dinner, master dwarf. I did not mean to offend you," she said, holding up her rabbit. Nodding dumbly, Kili stared at the ground. What had he been thinking? But that was it, he hadn't been thinking. He had run after her without stopping to consider his actions. He was consorting with the enemy. Shame burned at his face and he took another step backwards for good measure. What would Thorin think? He had touched it.

Nimroel, who had been watching him in his internal struggled gave him a small bow and turned to leave when Fili came running over the hill, a wild look in his blue eyes.

"What's the matter?" Kili demanded, seeing the look in his brother's eyes.

"We're supposed to be looking out for the ponies, only we've encountered a slight problem," Fili replied uneasily, shifting his weight from side to side. "We had sixteen and now there's fourteen." Kili let out a moan of frustration.

"Must have disappeared when we were shooting. Which horses?"

"Daisy and Bungo are missing."

CLIFHANGER hahahaha. Sorry bout it. Anyways thanks for reading and I hope you liked it. Update within the next week I hope, probably the weekend but I make no promises. Thanks lovies! PLEASE EXCUSE ALL MY GRAMMER/SPELLING I WROTE AND THEM UPLOADED RIGHT AWAY SO YOU WOULD GET THIS CHAPTER SOONER