The forest, with its thick-trunked trees which echoed every sound as though they were in a cave, disorientated the company who could not, at first, figure from which direction the orc's laughter came. Every cackle and hoot rebounded off every leaf and branch and sent thirteen pairs of eyes flicking madly about in every direction. The company released their weapons and formed a circle and it wasn't until Bilbo's keen eyes spotted the distant glow of firelight, that they knew which way to look. The light of the orc's campfire illuminated the trees around it, it casted long shadows and the shapes of the orcs were silhouetted against the flames. A growl escaped Fili's throat as he gripped his swords so tight it hurt and his knuckles turned white. He wanted to surge forward, he wanted to attack at that very moment and drive his blade through the chest of every orc in the camp. He moved forward.

"Fili wait." Thorin said in a low voice, reaching out to grab his nephew's elbow. Fili turned to look at him, his brows knitted together.

"Wait?" He repeated, tearing his arm from Thorin's grasp "Wait for what? We have waited long enough. The orcs are right there." He used the tip of his sword to point towards the fire light. "Kili is right there."

"I know, but we must plan this. We don't know how many orcs are in there." Thorin said.

"I don't care how many orcs there are. Let's just get in there, kill them and rescue Kili."

"Don't be so reckless. That is exactly the type of thing your brother would do, and look where he is now." Thorin's breath caught in his throat as he realised what he had just said. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."

"You seem to be saying a lot of things you don't mean lately." Fili said darkly, shooting his uncle an angry glare.

"We could encircle them." Dwalin said, interrupting before the young Durin could say anything more, "Take them from all sides, give them no way to retreat." Thorin tore his eyes from his nephew and towards Dwalin, he could still feel Fili's gaze burning into him. He cleared his throat and rolled his shoulders. Another orc laugh rang out. Fili was right, they had waited enough. He tightened his grip on his sword and nodded.

"Alright," he said. "Let's go."

It was almost completely dark in the camp now, if it wasn't for the last rays of sunlight bursting through the leaves and the burning campfire, the thin clearing would have been shrouded in the darkness of early autumn evening. Kili didn't want night to fall again, he didn't want to sit alone beneath the trees in the blackness of night again. He cursed these autumn nights, they crept upon him so quickly. He longed for sunlight – something he hadn't seen properly since before he was captured. Any sunlight he had seen had been fractured and broken up by leaves. Kili felt tired, his lids were getting heavy and his body ached and stung. He wanted nothing more than to fall asleep and let peace wash over him while it could, but he dared not close his eyes, fearful of what would happen if he did or when he opened them again. Instead he let his mind wander again, over mountains and rivers, he let it wander back home, where happy memories lay. They were the only welcomed company he had amongst the trees.

"Sir." Azog turned to face Gurlak, a smaller orc with beady eyes was stood beside him. Gurlak made the other orc look very small. "Murg has spotted the dwarves. They have come for him." Azog looked down at Murg who nodded as Gurlak spoke, sharp teeth bared in a pleased smile. Murg looked proud that he could bring this news to Azog.

"How far, Murg?"

"Not far." Murg raised his arm and pointed east with a long, bony finger. "It will take them very little time to reach us." Azog looked towards the direction Murg had pointed and then towards Kili, before falling into a contemplative silence. Thorin was close, Azog could almost smell him, could almost smell the dwarven blood he was about to spill. He knew Thorin would return in search for his young heir, but something pulled at him. There was a strange uncertainty at the back of his mind. And if it is not? … If Thorin does not accept? Gurlak's words from that afternoon echoed in his thoughts, casting doubt in the great orc's thoughts. Azog's mouth thinned as he pondered what to do. Even if Thorin did not willingly accept to trade his life with Kili's, there was nothing to say that he would escape, that Azog couldn't kill him anyway. But he didn't want that, he wanted Thorin to beg. To beg for his nephew's life to be spared, he wanted to see weakness and desperation in the dwarf's eyes.

"We move on." He ordered, receiving confused stares from Gurlak and Murg. Gurlak took a step forward.

"But … but sir," He stuttered, "I thought you meant to trade the dwarfling's life for Oakenshield's."

"I do." Azog said flatly. "Lazgarl!" Lazgarl looked up from where he was sat and put the scimitar he had been sharpening back on his belt. The green skinned orc stood and approached his leader.

"So why are we leaving?" Gurlak enquired as Lazgarl came to stand beside him.

"I have been considering what you said to me, if Thorin does not except my deal. And I have a plan to ensure that he begs that I take his life instead." Gurlak looked at him, eyebrows raised as he awaited further explanation. "We are going to split up, some of us will continue on, taking the boy with us, and the others will remain here and wait for the dwarfs to come. Lazgarl, you will stay here and when they come I want you to make them believe that Kili is dead. Make sure that Thorin believes that his nephew is gone."

"But how will you trade the boy if Thorin believes him dead?"

"Because when I reveal him, Thorin will be lost in grief, he will be utterly desperate to see the boy. His relief at seeing Kili alive and the threat of having him taken away again should be enough for him to give himself up to me." Gurlak nodded, understanding his leader's plan. It made sense to him. He looked over towards Kili and sniggered.

The orcs were restless and once again Kili got the unsettling feeling that something was about to happen. And when he got this feeling bad things followed, for the last times he had felt this way he had been beaten, whipped and burnt. A shiver rushed through his body and he pressed his back against the tree, ignoring the way his torn flesh screamed in burning pain. He was too unnerved by the prospect of being tortured again. And just like before Gurlak began to walk towards him, this time with a fresh rope in his hands. Gurlak glared at him.

"Time to go, dwarfling."

"Go? Go where?" Kili asked. But Gurlak said nothing, just knelt to release Kili from his bonds, keeping one strong hand wrapped around Kili's forearm to ensure he didn't try to run. Kili doubted he'd have tried to run even if he could. He wasn't sure how far his weak legs would be able to carry him before they collapsed from beneath him. For the brief moment when he was hoisted roughly to his feet, the wounds on his unbound wrists could breathe the cold air, the pain was soothed by the chill and for a moment Kili forgot it was there. But the relief was short-lived as the new rope was tied tightly back around his wrists. Kili hissed as the pain came back, the twine pressing against his split and burning skin. Another length of rope was tied to the one around his wrists and Gurlak pulled upon the other end, yanking Kili forcibly forward.

Kili was pulled though the camp, the orcs about him paying very little attention to him. Their minds seemed to be elsewhere. To begin, Kili didn't quite understand what was happening, the previous times he was marched through camp, the orcs were lining his path, cackling excitedly. Did this mean that he was not going to be harmed that night? The dread that Kili felt was briefly lightened, a night without having pain inflicted upon him was welcomed. But he still did not quite understand why he had been untied from the tree or why he was being pulled to the edge of the orc camp like a dog on a lead. That wasn't until the rope was passed to Azog who gave him a brief sneer before mounting his white warg. Then he understood. They were moving again.

There didn't seem to be much movement in the orc camp, the creatures were sat quietly around the fire – their cackles had fallen silent – and six wargs rested on the edge of the small clearing. Thorin frowned, he could see neither Kili nor Azog. But he was almost entirely certain that these were the same orcs from the cliff, he recognized the one with green skin and the warg with half an ear missing. He moved one of the thin branches of a bush with his finger and looked deeper into camp. The deep orange glow of the fire reflected off something silver and metallic. Thorin's blue eyes narrowed, for there in a pile just inches from the foot of an orc, lay Kili's weapons. His sword, his daggers, his bow and arrows. His chest constricted in fury at how carelessly they had been tossed to the side. He knew that they were indeed in the right place, these were indeed the same vile creature that took his youngest nephew prisoner. His grip tightened on the handle of his own sword. He looked through the camp to see Dwalin crouched in the bushes on the other side, his war axes briefly catching the glow of the fire. Though the orcs didn't seem to notice. Thorin's eyes gazed around to see the other members of the company, all watching him and awaiting his order. He took a deep breath, it was time to rescue his youngest nephew and slay the pale orc – wherever it was that he was hiding. Thorin looked back at Dwalin and nodded before bursting into the orc camp with a fierce battle roar. The others followed, all sounding menacing as their battle cries rang out. The orcs and wargs sprang in surprise. The orcs grabbed their weapons and began shouting to each other in Black Speech. The company darted forward to meet them, swords, axes and hammers glinting ominously in the firelight.

Fili saw red the instant his feet were in the camp, anger boiled inside him and charged at the nearest orc, his swords slashing and whistling through the air to disarm it and strike it in the neck. At that moment, nothing, apart from the orcs, the wargs and himself, existed to Fili. Smaug himself could have been stood right behind him and he wouldn't have noticed, nor would he have cared in that moment. His twin swords flashed, skilfully cutting down any orc or warg that stepped before him. The battle moved in a blur, an adrenaline fuelled sequence of slashing and stabbing and cutting. Before he knew it, Fili was stood in the middle of the camp, blood pounding in his ears and chest rising and falling rapidly, his swords dripping the same orc blood that had been splattered up his coat. Every beast had been slain. Putting his swords away, his blue eyes searched the glade desperately. He saw each member of the company exhausted and breathless, but otherwise unharmed. Apart from them, there was no other living being to be seen.

And no Kili.

- AN -

FINALLY!

OMG, sorry for being so terribly and ridiculously late, but thank you guys for being so patient! The last few weeks have been manic! I've just moved back to university and I barely get a night to myself where I can write. But finally here's chapter 11. I'm sorry if it seems a little rushed, I just really wanted to get it up for you guys.

Last time I promised more than one part a week so I'm going to upload chapter 12 for you tomorrow!

Once again, I'm so sorry it's late! (highfives to you guys for being awesome, and no highfive for me for being slow to update)

As per usual, faves, follows and (especially) reviews are very appreciated