A/N: Another chapter I am not proud of. But I did clear up some plot holes I created.


"How, what, why?" were Fíli's only words he could say as he looked up at her.

It must have been a comical sight in the mid-February afternoon. A half-naked dwarfling looking up at a dwarrowdam who had leggings in one hand and was holding her other hand over her mouth. But, how did she recognize him, he didn't remember ever meeting her, or hearing anyone mention her name. Surely someone, his parents, uncles, cousins, grandparents, great-grandparents would have mentioned a dwarrowdam named Ase, but no one.

Either Mahal was on his side or some other luck but the snow that had been threatening all day started to fall. Flakes were dancing in the grey sky and were landing on his wet hair, and on his nose. Fíli reached an arm up to wipe away a flake that had landed on the tip of his nose. It was that action that finally awoke Ase out of her stupor. She finally dropped her hand, handed Fíli the leggings, and helped him put them on.

She curtsied in front of him. "I'm sorry I didn't recognize you before, my prince."

Fíli looked down at the ground. He did not know what to say or do. What would uncle Thórin do in this case? What would Grandfather do, or even Great-Grandfather? He was taught from a young age when he was not in Erebor or in Mirkwood try not to let anyone know who you really are, no matter what race they are. He was trying his hardest not to let his new family know who he really is, but how did he slip? How did she even recognize him? The wind pushed his once again golden curls in front of his face. Oh yea, that, he was the only dwarfling of any status that had golden curly hair, a gift from his great-grandmother (the curls) and his father (the golden color).

"Uh, I'm not a Prince anymore," replied Fíli quickly and solemly, looking down at the ground.

There was a silence as snowflakes continued their waltz from the sky painting the ground white. Fíli could only look at the white that was quickly growing beneath his feet. It was peaceful if not for Ase there and Fíli feeling horrified at the entire situation. He wished for a second that someone would come for him and take him home, at least he would not be standing there in the snow wondering how he blew his cover like that.

"Amad! Amad!" two voices cut through the silence.

Fíli lifted his head, glad for the interruption, even if it was not the rescue he wanted. It was Eluf and EyDís whom both looked horrified.

Ase was probably thinking along the same lines. "What's wrong my loves?"

"Adad told us to come find you and Fíli. One of the scouts came back and said the wargs were catching up. We need to go," said EyDís.

Ase nodded at her children, for Bombur to send their two oldest children, who were fast runners, this has to be a serious matter. Wargs are no laughing matter to begin with, they had to be really close if EyDís and Eluf were told to run. She gestured for Eluf to clean up and take the basket. EyDís ran ahead followed by Eluf. Fíli was about to follow but was stopped by Ase.

"This is not over your highness," she whispered.

Fíli gulped, what did she mean by that? Did he even want to know?


"Wuuf! Wuuf!" the sound of a barking dog shocked Thórin, he thought he was all alone out here.

Snow was falling, dancing all around him. He was now two days down the trail, two days since he broke off from the search party. To be honest with himself, he actually felt better than he had since this whole event started. There was no one around to remind him of the wrong that he did, and there was no one around to make him feel isolated and alienated. He had a feeling that if remained on the path he was on he would find some trace of Fíli, another lock of hair, a second piece of ripped shirt. Hopefully, his nephew himself.

"Wuff! Wuff!" a dog barked again, this time sounding very close to Thórin.

"Hello?" Thórin said aloud.

The grass on the left side of the trail ruffled, and out came a mutt. It was not a very big mutt, but it was just large enough to knock a dwarfling off his feet. Thórin did not feel frightened of this dog, despite having a fear of dogs since Dís brought one home when she was Fíli's age and the dog jumped on his back and ripped his shirt. The dog sat down blocking his path looking up at him. No, he (how did he know it was a he?) did not feel threatening at all. Why was he wishing that this dog could take him to Fíli? He knew that most animals don't understand Khuzdûl or Common Tongue, but why was he thinking he had to at least try?

"Can you take me to my nephew?" he asked the dog in Common Tongue?

"Wuff! Wuff!" was his only response.

"Can you take me to my nephew, Fíli?" This time he tried in Khuzdûl.

This time the dog growled. Well that was a success, thought Thórin. "I guess you can't help me then. Can you at least move so I can pass?" he asked in Common Tongue.

"Wuff! Wuff!" the dog would not move.

Thórin stood there staring back at the dog, when a hand landed on his shoulder scaring the poor prince right out of his skin. Thórin turned around to see an elf standing there, Thranduil. He gave Thranduil his infamous what is going on here looks.

"New friend?" Thranduil asked.

Thórin chuckled, his first in nearly a month. "Haha, Thranduil, making friends with a dog? Me? That's funny." Thórin sighed. "He came out of the grass, and is now officially the roadblock."

"We've been following this trail for about a day and a half. We got a glimpse of you yesterday but only did we realize it was you when you stopped here," Thranduil replied, answering Throin's unspoken question.

"Wuff! Wuff!" the dog barked again.

"I'm starting to get really angry at that dog." Thórin muttered.

"He does seem like he does not want to move," replied Thranduil, "Let me try."

"Can you move so we can pass?" Thranduil said in Sindarin.

"Wuff! Wuff! Wuff!"

Thórin smiled a true smile. "At least you got one more bark than me."

Thranduil shook his head. "Can you move so we can pass?" He tried again, this time in Quenya.

"Wuff! Wuff! Wuff! Wuff! Grrrrrr!"

"He did not like that, Thranduil," said Thórin.

And just like that, the dog stopped barking. Something had startled it. Now that the dog had calmed down, Thranduil had time to really look at the dog. He did not seem to be threatening. Perhaps that's what Thórin was thinking. It was strange, the more Thranduil stared at the dog, the stronger the feeling was that the dog knew something about Fíli than what was meeting the eye. He had no time to voice that to Thórin when an all too familiar sound of a warg cut the impromptu meeting short. That's what the dog had heard. Both king and prince of allied kingdoms nodded at one another, they were most likely heading towards battle whether they liked it or not. Before Thranduil was able to give the order for his guards to follow himself and Thórin the dog got up without a bark or a whimper and walked off into the woods.

"That what was one strange dog," one of his guards muttered behind him.

Thranduil could only nod as the newly formed war party moved along the unblocked path.


Dís stood in front of a familiar closed door. She wanted to enter that room so badly, she needed to enter the room, but she knew the occupant would not want that. The occupant would not want to see her. The occupant would not even know who she was to him, his own mother. Her 15-year-old dwarfling was hurt and scared and her eldest was missing, no thanks to her oldest brother. How she longed to hold both her boys in her arms. She never had the chance to talk to Fíli after this incident before he had ran away, and Kíli did not even know her.

She went to place her hand on the doorknob but pulled back as tears she was holding back for hours now fell, as her cries took her to the floor. She missed her boys, her husband, her father, even her brothers as angry as she was with Thórin at the present, and her tears reflected that longing. She was not sure who she was crying for more about, Fíli, Kíli, or someone else. What was she going to do if Kíli never remembered her, or if Víli, her father, brothers, and guards came back without Fíli, and she never saw her golden haired son again? She knew she could not think that way, she refused to think that way. Kíli would eventually snap out of it, and eventually Víli was going to walk through the gate with Fíli, safe and whole. She would not think the other way.

"Dís?" a male voice whispered, causing her to look up.

It was Dáin, with a caring look in his eyes. Dís had always been close to Dáin growing up; he was like a third brother to her, the one she could always go to for problems. Frérin was too wild, part of the reason why Fíli was named Thórin's heir and Frérin skipped over in the succession, and Thórin was always to serious or busy. That left Dáin.

"The floor is cold, you won't be helping anyone if you catch a cold," said Dáin offering his cousin a hand.

Dís accepted the hand, and allowed Dáin to help her to her feet. "What am I going to do if no one comes back to me, Dáin?" Dís whispered as Dáin pulled her into a brotherly embrace.

Dáin looked at the closed door. "You can't think like that, Dís. You have to believe everything will work out, even if I have to run out there myself and find everyone. Things will be fine."

Dís pulled back from the embrace. "Thank you, Dáin. Let's go see my son, maybe grandfather made progress."

Dís finally opened the door and walked in. She did not notice Dáin's hesitation. "I hope I'm right." He whispered to no one in particular.


"Thórin! Fíli! Where are you?" Víli yelled.

"Thórin!" shouted Frérin.

"Fíli, Thórin!" Tauriel shouted the loudest an elf could shout.

This was entirely hopeless thought Thráin. Here they were somewhere in the Misty Mountains, in which they thought they were looking for his missing grandson. Now, not only were they looking for Fíli, they were looking for Thórin as well. Thráin could not believe it took them, the royal family, the dwarven guards and their elven allies a full day before they realized Thórin was no longer following them.

Thráin was leading the search party up through the Misty Mountains, along snow covered paths and numerous caves. He was beginning to fear the worst about his grandson, he did not want to be the one to stumble upon a body, it had been about a month. Thráin turned around a bend and came to a part where they would have to walk single file. He was about to take the first step when a cry came from the elven guard.

Legolas came running towards him. "Thráin, none of my guards have seen Thórin in about a day. They don't know if he took another path or what."

Thráin fell to his knees. What had he done? In all of his anger with his son, he did the one thing he did not want to do since his eldest was born, alienated him from his own family. Now he was no longer with them. This was not good. Now they had two missing family members. His father was not going to be happy with this situation.

"We need to go back. We have to find him," he said to Legolas.

"Turn around!" Legolas shouted, as he ran back to the guard. "Turn around, we have another one to look for now."

That was yesterday. Thráin was really beginning to regret his words in Mirkwood and his coldness in Dale towards Thórin. They had not seen any sign of Fíli or of Thórin in a full day. Thráin knew they had to find both of them; this was a huge mess that needed to be sorted out. He turned his head to see the Lonely Mountain in the Dístance. He only hoped Kíli was awake and okay. But why did he have a feeling that things were not all good there? Why did he have a feeling his whole family was falling apart?