There was a haze hanging over the land, tinting the horizon with a blue hue. The morning had been cold as the company walked, the air of on-coming autumn nipping at their noses and clouding up their breath. After the red sunrise and as the day continued into afternoon, the sun had retreated behind wispy white clouds, appearing occasionally to offer a little warmth and glaring light. The walk was not as dismal as previous days, there was a shared – yet unspoken – feeling that they were getting close. Determination spurred them onwards, pushing them to walk with a quicker pace, chatter resonating throughout those who walked near the back. Fili could here Ori, Bilbo and Bofur talking amongst themselves. But Fili had stayed silent, the thought of the red sunrise remained in his mind. It is just an old wives' tale, he told himself. Remembering his uncle's earlier words. Thorin walked close beside him, occasionally conversing with Dwalin, who marched on his right side. Fili listened to them as they spoke – mainly to discuss what direction to take, to climb up through the trees or stay where the ground was flatter, littered lightly with grey rocks. It was decided that the company would follow the forest, they would be more likely to discover the orcs concealing themselves beneath the leaf canopy. And now as the third day crept closer to the forth night, it was crucial that they found Kili soon.

The air was even cooler amongst the trees, whilst the woodland was not as dense at it had been before, the light and warmth of the cloud-obscured sun seemed to find it difficult to reach the group as they walked. The woodland was thick with twisted roots that spouted from the earth to criss-cross the company's path and low hanging branches that threatened to snare them. Twice Bofur had almost lost his hat to their grasp, in the end he resorted to holding it on his head.

"Stupid trees," he huffed, ducking again. Fili looked over his shoulder and smiled ever so slightly, then continued on, following close behind Thorin, who didn't seem to be having much trouble navigating through the challenges of the unruly woodland. Fili made sure to step where he stepped. Fili didn't like this forest. It was cold and something felt … wrong. He found himself looking over his shoulder, into the undergrowth and into the leaves above. He could not shake the feeling that they were being watched. And as the company ventured further into the trees, the chatter coming to a stop – even Bofur's grumbling had ceased, - and the only sounds were that of their footsteps and the cold wind rustling through the foliage, it became apparent to him that he was not the only one who felt uneasy.

Kili thought Azog was going to kill him there and then. He envisioned the orc driving the metal rod straight through his gut and leave him to bleed dry whilst the others cheered for every drop of blood that settled on the ground. Everything in Azog's shining blue eyes told Kili that it was the end, that he would never see Fili again, and that his promise to his mother, to return to her, would go un-kept. But instead Kili found himself dragged back to the tree, tied up beneath the leaves with the scolded flesh on his arm and chest burning and tingling. He was left to ponder what Azog planned to do with him now that he knew he was Thorin's nephew. He knew he was Thorin's nephew. Kili tilted his head back and hit it against the tree trunk. He was such a fool. How could he let Azog get that information? Fool. He scolding himself. Fool, fool, fool! Kili sighed, self-loathing and disappointment burning in his gut like a furnace, it made his heart hurt, like he had done something truly unforgivable. And he had, he had revealed himself to Azog the Defiler. How could he ever face Thorin now? His uncle was right, he was careless, rash child. He didn't deserve to be on this quest. He didn't deserve to be in the Line of Durin, for children of Durin did not break so easily, they did not let their enemies win. And Azog had won, and Kili had failed. He had failed his uncle, he had failed his friends, and he had failed his brother.

No! Something screamed at him from the back of his mind. Suddenly he recalled the look in Azog's eyes when he probed him for answers. Something had twinkled in his icy irises, it pulled at the corners of his mouth in an expectant grin. Azog had expected Kili to say what he did, he expected Kili to say that he was Thorin's Kin. Kili's head snapped up, his eyes gazing over to where the orc was sat, one leg pulled up with his ankle resting on his knee, watching him intently. Kili's eyes narrowed. Azog had known, he thought, he had already guessed. The thought snapped him slightly out of his shame, the feeling of disappointment lightening. He had not revealed anything that the orc did not, somehow, already know. But what had given it away? He had never thought himself much like Thorin – though he did try, - his uncle was so much more austere, more steady and wise. Kili often wished he could be like him, and like his ever-dependable and practical brother, but he couldn't for the life of him step away from his immaturity and wildness. He could barely keep a straight face during serious moments. But something from deep inside him must have risen up, perhaps he was more like his uncle than he thought.

After some moments Azog dragged his eyes away from Kili who was still continued to stare at him from across the camp. Azog could feel his dwarven eyes burning into him. But the orc's thoughts turned to a greater prize.

"I will have Thorin Oakenshield. I will have his head on a spike." He said definitely. Gurlak, who was sat beside him, sharpening a knife that he had pulled from his belt, turned his head to look at him.

"How?" For the time that Kili had been tied up, Azog had studied him from where he was sat and came to realise that he had a very important asset indeed. Kili would be the way the pale orc would get what he so desired.

"I have his only heir," Azog sneered, "I am sure he will be most eager to have him back. I will make a bargain with him." Gurlak raised an eyebrow and Azog continued. "When we find Oakenshield, I will offer to trade his young nephew's life for his."

"How do you know that the dwarf will accept?"

"If kin is as important to the race of dwarves as I have heard, then Oakenshield should be willing to accept my deal." Gurlak frowned, his eyes flicked from Azog to Kili and back.

"And if it is not?" He asked, "If Thorin does not accept?" For a moment Azog was silent, he looked back over at Kili, who had finally averted his gaze and was now gazing into the trees, subconsciously pulling at the ropes that kept him bound, and considered this question. He knew very well that Thorin Oakenshield was stubborn and was not known for surrendering, but he would give himself up for the life of the dwarfling. Wouldn't he?

"Then we will kill the boy, and take Oakenshield when his anger and grief overwhelms him." He said, "Kili is of no importance to me, it does not bother me whether he lives or dies. He is merely the pawn."Azog's eyes narrowed and his brow creased, he crossed his arms over his chest. He would have Oakenshield, he had waited long enough.

Sunset seemed to be come early that day and it got dark quickly under the trees. Whilst the sun still shined brightly in the sky, its golden rays couldn't seem to reach the lower levels of the forest. And as the light began to disappear, so too did the gnarled roots. Thankfully, the path was no longer riddled with hazards, there was nothing now to trip them or ensnare them, and the company were able to travel with greater haste. Fili tilted his head back to look through the gaps in the leaves above, and caught a glimpse of pink clouds against a blue sky. He wanted the trees to end so he could see it properly. He longed for an open plane, for he still felt that the company were not the only ones that were concealed amongst the trees. And an unsettling sound proved him correct, as a cackle suddenly echoed through the woodland, reverberating off the tree trunks and causing the company to freeze, eyes widening. Fili's head snapped in the direction of the sound, just as the laugh came again, more than one this time. He knew to which vile creature the laughter belonged. It was Dwalin, with fists clenched at his sides, who spoke first.

"Orcs."

A/N- The company have finally caught up it seems! Hang in there Kili, help is coming ... maybe ;)

Unfortionaly, The next part may be a little while because I am busy, busy, busy! I am in the middle of packing, ready to move back to uni and start my second year! (asdfghjkl! I am very excited!) And have lots to do now, and when I get there. The first few weeks will be a little hectic. But I'll make it up to you by uploading more than one part next time :)

I hope the site doesn't screw with my paragraphs, like it has been lately.

As usual, faves, follows and (especially) reviews are welcomed and appreciated.