"Orcs?" I repeat, staring at Kili to see if he is joking. His face remains solemn, reassuring nothing.
Thorin jolts awake at the word, his eyes darting around to each member of the company.
Fili nods.
"Throat cutters. There will be dozens of them out there."
"They strike in the dead of night, while everyone is asleep. Quick and quiet, with no screams. Just lots and lots of blood." His brother continues.
Fili and Kili glance at each other before sharing small smiles.
"Kili! How dare you joke about such a matter! What is wrong with you?" I stare at him incredulously. Thorin stands, glaring at his nephews, who cower under his gaze.
"You think that an orc raid in the middle of the night is funny?"
"Uncle, we did not mean anything by it-" Kili begins to protest.
"No, you did not. You know nothing of the world." Thorin turns his back to them, walking over to the cliff's edge and peering out.
I glare at Kili, who ducks his head when he notices my stare.
"Do not mind him, laddies. Your uncle has more reasons than most to hate Orcs." Balin pipes up, trying to reassure the brothers.
"Why is that?" Bilbo asks, glancing at Thorin to see if he should run and hide.
"After Smaug captured Erebor, King Thror, Thorin's grandfather, tried to reclaim the ancient kingdom of Moria. But our enemies had gotten there first. Moria had been taken by legions of orcs, led by the most vile of their race; Azog the Defiler. He was sworn to destroy the line of Durin, and began by beheading the king."
My eyes widen as I sit down, the words sickeningly grabbing my attention. I can feel Kili's eyes on my face, watching as Balin continues his story.
"Thorin's father, Thrain, was driven mad with grief. He went missing, or was killed; we will never know. But we were leaderless. That's when I saw him; A young dwarf prince, fighting the Pale Orc alone. He was armed with nothing but a sword and an oaken branch for a shield. Thorin brought down the Defiler, and the Pale Orc learned that the line of Durin would not be so easily defeated. We drove the legions back, but there was no celebration that night, the number of our dead to great. That is when I thought to myself, 'There is one I can follow. There is one I can call King.'"
Balin stops and looks at Thorin. I do the same, seeing the rest of the company has awoken and risen to their feet and are staring at their leader. Bilbo speaks, his voice intrigued.
"And what became of the Pale Orc?"
Thorin's eyes narrow at the thought of his foe.
"That filth slunk into the hole in whence he came, and died of his wounds long ago. Come, we must rest. We move at dawn."
Everyone returns to their bed rolls. I spread mine out beside Bilbo, laying down so that I face away from Kili. I am hurt by his teasing, but know he did not mean anything. Still, it was childish for him to joke about such a subject. But I cannot find it in myself to be mad at him. Soon, the camp is filled with the noise of snoring, and I see Bilbo has fallen asleep, facing me. I sigh, closing my eyes until sleep comes.