A/N: I'm liking the whole Hobbit fandom ever since I saw the movie, I've actually been reading the LoTR trilogy before the movie came, and I instantly wanted to go buy myself the The Hobbit book. My older brother insisted I read it because it's the prequel and beginning to what lead to the Lord of the Rings. Funny story, I've watched the 1977 cartoon version of The Hobbit when I was but a tiny child, and I can remember how freaked out and intrigued I was by the film. Smaug scared me the most with his wolf-like features and graveling voice (I hope that Smauglock can follow through with the dragon's previous actor's performance).

Anyway, yes, I'm one of those girls who instantly got attracted to the handsome threesome; Thorin, Fili, and Kili! Blast you Jackson for making them handsome and desirable for us swooning fangirls!

I'd like to give you fans a warning, this entire story is a AU! Yes, from different random timelines mixed together, events that changed, and the tweaking of a certain species in Middle-Earth. I know, you probably are already getting your torches and pitchforks ready, but at least read the story first before you come to that decision. Please read and review!

Disclaimer: J. J. R. Tolkein is the master and Peter Jackson is the doer of The Hobbit, I simply own my oc!

Everything was ruined the day that damned dragon came upon them.

Many lives lost in the unforgiving molten fire, chocked from the black fumes spreading throughout the caverns, tunnels, and halls of the mountain. And the treasure, all the gems, jewels, and gold, lost to that fire wyrm! And the most devastating loss... their home taken.

And they were all alone, the cold shoulder of the Elves told them that much.

All fled away, far away from the clutches of the terrible dragon Smaug, driven away from their home to live in the vulnerable wide open plains, to search for a place they can call their own but driven away from the ones already taking residence.

It was humiliating and shameful for such mighty people to become beggars. To be reduced to this state, it made more dwarves fling themselves over cliffs to be rid of the grief and shame.

Moria was overrun by Orcs, six years of battle against the wretched beasts result much loss on the dwarven army, including the King Under the Mountain, Thror (although the Orcs didn't fair better, the body being higher). And even as they won, many would not risk more lives, and so Moria was abandoned and the dwarves once again wandered far for a place to call their own.

However, the line of Durin was in danger. Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, along with his sister and few guardsmen fled away in secrecy. The fell orc's promise to end Durin's line ringing in the dwarf prince's ear and he feared for the life of his sister, for she was pregnant.

Fili was born in a shoddy-looking tavern, the ruckus of the pub below giving them cover and privacy to privy eyes. Thorin felt deep anger in his blood as he watched a woman clean the tiny baby that squirmed in her too big arms. This was no place for an heir of Durin to be born in! Not in some damned nameless town full of filthy drunks and whores!

Dis' husband, one of the guardsman that had sworn to protect his princess with his own life, must have felt the very same as his dark eyes burned. Fili was suppose to be draped in soft sheets, bathed in warm clear water, and Dis resting on the most comfortable fur-covered mattress. Instead, Dis lied on a haystack of a bed with a thin, ragged quilt, and Fili was crying his lungs out as the woman wiped him with a dripping towel.

A week later, they moved on. Dis was still faint and pale, but she held strong with the tiny bundle in her arms with the encouragement of her husband and elder brother.

Fili grew up, the tiny blond boy that shared his mother and uncle's eyes watched the landscape change, shooting questions to his father, mother, and uncle about where to next they would end up. And everyone really did their best to make light of the situation for the little one's protection. Fili's happiness was contagious, making the most grim dwarf in the company quirk a smile behind their beards..

But once again, fate did not look down on them with any mercy.

An ambush. An orc pack attacked without warning, the guardsmen having little time to react to the sharp spears and jagged swords that viciously cut them down. A woman and child's screams made their blood run cold.

Thorin, Dis, and Fili escaped.

Fili's father, Dis' husband, Thorin's closest guardsman, did not.

~x0x~

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Dis was with child.

Thorin, cautious and paranoid as ever, took commissions from paying customers who needed the professional craftsmanship of a dwarf to have items they desired, or broken jewelry fixed. He gathered as much money he could to provide for his little quiet nephew and very weak sister.

The prince could not stand the sight of his gaunt-looking sister, the fire in her icy eyes looking more dim by the passing months as her belly grew. His nephew didn't look any better, looking more worse for wear. They were suppose to be full with happiness and glory, back in the halls of Erebor where Fili would be causing trouble for his tutors and giving the nannies hell, and his sister would be cared for as if she were a great treasure herself!

It was pathetic. He was pathetic.

~x0x~

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.

.

Kili was born off the side of a muddy road, his tiny, bloody body wrapped in a shawl to keep the coldness away.

Thorin could just scream until his throat ran hoarse, but what good would that do? It would not summon a warm hearth and bed for his family. It would not summon a table full of the finest dish any dwarf chef had to offer. It would not bring back a fallen kingdom.

~x0x~

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.

The hardship, the helplessness, and the fear finally destroyed Dis and claimed her weak heart.

Fili, still quiet and dirty, looked down at the fresh grave of his mother, but he did not cry. Crying didn't do anything good but made his vision blur and the world darken. Crying made his uncle angry and sad, unable to care for his sister-son's as he carried three-year-old Kili in his arms. The prince that was once draped in fine clothes was now a shadow of that person, just as dirty and weary and dead as every sad soul.

'My line,' Thorin weakly thought as he hammered a weapon on the anvil. 'What will become of my line?'

The fire in him was beginning to fade, his body slowly decaying and shutting down. Dark thoughts and memories haunting him in his wake, further plunged the prince into depression and self-loathing anger.

Durin's line will end.