Here you go, Thorin's POV as promised. Fili, however, is not included in here, but he will be next chapter, so don't worry (though this chapter may be a little shorter because of it). Enjoy.

Chapter 14: Keep bad from worse

Thorin stared the orc down as the creature slowly moved towards his dwarfish quarries. The exiled king would not cower before his captors, would not show the fear that was eating him alive inside. He was too stubborn for that, too much of a dwarf. The same could be said for Balric.

"So, you're awake," the orc growled above them, "Have been for some time I would gather, or else how could you have tried to escape in such a manner?"

It took everything in Thorin not to spit at the being in front of him.

"No matter," the orcish leader said, brushing the matter aside yet looking distinctly disappointed that he had failed to garner a reaction from his prisoner, "For it did not work."

"What now?" The question was clearly Balric's, the contempt in his voice clearly undisguised. Thorin winced, wishing that the brown haired dwarf had not drawn attention to himself.

"Now we figure out what to do with you," the orc replied with no little malice. His words were exactly what both captive dwarves had been fearing, but bound as they were there was nothing either of them could do.

I doubt we will be left alone, Thorin thought bitterly, they will want their fun and we can do little, if anything, to stop them.

"I cannot kill you," their captor continued, glaring with an unmasked loathing in the direction of Thorin, "And nor would it be wise to…rough you up, too much. You, on the other hand, I have no need of."

Thorin shivered as the orc's attention turned to Balric who could not help but retract slightly from where their captor was leaning in towards him. If Thorin's hands were not tied and his body not stripped of weapons then the fury simmering inside of him would have bubbled over long ago. As it was, any rash move on his part, unarmed or not, would only serve to make matters worse. Still, it did not help that the dark haired dwarf had the urge to do everything in his power to wipe the sadistic grin off the bastard's face.

All in good time, he thought, holding himself at bay. He would love nothing more than to throttle the being who so relished in the pain and anguish of others.

Balric swallowed audibly beside him as the sneering orc pulled out a wicked looking blade, long and narrow and as twisted as the mind of the knife's owner no doubt was. The foul being ran the tip of it down the side of the brown haired dwarf's face and at the sharp intake of breath from his friend and comrade, Thorin's bound hands clenched unconsciously into fists.

"I wonder what you would look like with a scar or two gracing that ugly mug of yours," the orcish leader mused. Thorin closed his eyes and counted to ten before slowly opening them again, unhappy to find the orc's focus still riveted upon Balric. The dwarfish leader did not like the fact that their captor was toying with them, was taunting them about what he could do, what he would do given the chance, yet there was nothing they could do, he could do and the orc before them knew this well.

"If you're going to mess up my face, why don't you just get on with it?" came the brave voice of Balric beside him.

"Either you have the guts or you don't," Thorin added, unable to keep silent any longer. The orc turned and snarled at him, scarred and weathered lips pulled up against foul and blackening teeth.

"Oh, I have no qualms in harming your companion here," their captor sneered, his voice deadly calm as he pressed his knife harder against Balric's skin, drawing a thin line of blood as he did so.

"Then why not do so here and now?" Thorin challenged, his blue-grey eyes level with the orc's own black ones.

"Because, much to my displeasure," the orc replied, pulling the blade away from Balric's face mush to the relief of both dwarves, "I do not have the time to adjust features. There are things that much be done and you have caused us to waste enough time as it is."

With that, the two dwarves' captor stood and moved away, but not without a backward glance at his quarries, a foul grin upon his face as he tweaked the still unsheathed knife in his hand causing it to glint in the light of the day. Thorin shuddered inwardly at the sight.

Our prospects are becoming grimmer and grimmer, he mused, knowing they needed to find a way out of this predicament and soon.

Dwalin did not like the fact that he needed Kili to lead him to where Thorin was last. He did not like the fact that he needed to find Thorin in the first place, much less rescue him from a bunch of orcs, creatures known for their violent and cruel tendencies. If that did not make matters bad enough, Fili was out there with three other boys, dwarflings searching for his uncle and the one other captive dwarf. The only reassurance the seasoned warrior had of the matter was the fact that the other dwarf with Thorin was Balric, one position below him in commanding the soldiers of their settlement and a damn good soldier.

"You're sure this is the way?" he asked the of the child whom belonged to the bobbing brown head beside him. Kili's dark brown eyes looked up, the wide orbs filled with determination and a seriousness Dwalin had not been certain one the dwarfling's age could possess.

"I am sure," his strangely quiet voice came, no hint of childish emotion evident as the lad managed to somehow hold himself together despite all that had happened. Dwalin shot a small, comforting smile in the direction of the youth.

"So long as you're sure," he said, eyes drifting back to fixate on the forest in front of him, every muscle tense as he awaited for something, anything to happen to take this situation from bad to worse. The warrior had come to expect nothing more with the luck that had befallen the line of Durin since the taking of Erebor, and if fate wanted to take this mishap spiralling on a downward path out completely out of control, it would soon find Dwalin in its way to stop such a thing from happening. No further grief would come to the house he served so loyally, he would make sure of it.

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