"It will not do to wander through the winter," Thror said, "taking jobs from farmers here and there. We must find a new settlement."

"I agree," Thrain said, "but where might we go?"

"Dwarves have long been driven away from Moria," Thror said, "We might reclaim the ancient kingdom."

"Perhaps someday," Thorin spoke up, "But now is not the time. Our people are hungry and weak. Even if we survived the journey, we have not the strength nor the numbers to drive out the evil in Moria."

"Thorin is right," Thrain said, "Our responsibility is to our people."

"Yes, to our people," Thror said.

"Meaning?" Thorin asked sharply.

"Meaning there is no place for your little human pet," Thror said.

"Marryn has been working for her keep along with the rest of us," Thorin said.

"Keep her if you will," Thror said, "but if she becomes a distraction or a hindrance, I will have her removed."

"Is this the time for such petty grievances?" Thrain asked incredulously, "Our people work their hands to the bone for little food and you worry only about a harmless human?"

Thorin and Thror glared at each other but took Thrain's words to heart.

"Would the dwarves of the Iron Hills turn us away?" Thorin asked.

"There would be no way of knowing until we got there," Thror said, "Temperamental devil, my brother is. Were he in the right mood, he'd give us the clothes off his back but we cannot risk it. The girl might set him over the edge."

Thorin sighed, but argued no further.

"We might seek refuge in Dunland," Thrain suggested.

"It would certainly provide shelter for us for a short time at least," Thorin said, looking at his grandfather, "and we can take jobs as needed on our way."

Thror sighed. "Very well," he said, "at dawn, we make our way to Dunland."

Thorin left the company of his father and the king. The dwarves of Erebor huddled around several campfires. Thorin found Marryn sitting beside Dís, a wool blanket draped over both of their shoulders.

He sat beside Marryn and took her hand.

"Any news?" Dís asked quietly.

"We make for Dunland," Thorin replied, "For the winter, at least. From there, who knows?"

He looked at Marryn. There was a sadness to her now that, try as he might, he could never take away completely. Even when she smiled, there was a shadow in her eyes.

The fire cast an orange glow on her weary face. She looked at him and grinned.

"We will be safe in Dunland?" she asked.

"I do not know," Thorin said truthfully, "It will be difficult. The road is long and the land is wild but we believe there is more opportunity for us there. We will endure."

Frerin joined them, dumping two dead rabbits into Thorin's lap. "Dunland, eh?"

"So it would seem," Thorin replied, sighing in annoyance.

"When?" Frerin asked, sitting on the other side of Dís.

"Tomorrow," Thorin said, "At dawn."

He began the unpleasant task of skinning and cooking the rabbits.

"Where will your people go, Marryn?" Frerin asked.

"The few who survived the attack on Dale have decided to make their homes among the men of the lake in Esgaroth," Marryn said quietly.

"Will you continue Haban's work from there?" Frerin asked.

"She is coming with us," Thorin snapped, slicing violently through the fur of one rabbit.

Marryn placed a gentle hand on the dwarf's back.

"I could not hope to continue Haban's work," she said patiently to Frerin, "I had not yet learned all of the necessary techniques before he was killed."

Frerin nodded politely.

Thorin made quick work of the rabbits and handed them to Frerin.

"You always were the better cook, brother," he said with a smirk.

Frerin rolled his eyes and smiled a bit. As he stood at the spit, Marryn looked at each of the dwarves.

Frerin was tired but good natured and funny. Dís frowned more these days but was still stalwart and stubborn. Thorin seemed to have aged years in only a few days. Marryn thought she even saw a bit of gray peeking in at his roots.

"Tell me tales of Erebor," Marryn said, "as the dwarves knew it."

All of the dwarves perked up at this. The group stayed up longer than they meant to telling stories of their homeland until they each drifted off to sleep.