A/N: Thorin is fighting back and defying.

Thorin was angry. Angry at himself at the world and at this damned forest. Gandalf left them to wander through the cursed place on their own. Maybe it was best this way, they didn't need his help anyway. Thorin led the way ready to get out as soon as possible he was feeling dazed just by breathing the air. But he'll find a way, he always does, it was his job to do so, to lead, to track the path to the future when it seems there is none.

But of course then there was a stone bridge, a stone bridge that wasn't there and the murky water they shouldn't touch. It was just their luck to have their path cut off but Thorin has faced greater cracks and walls, deeper chasm and he always found a way around. His dwarves were used to crossing obstacles too and Killi was already testing the vines.

"We send our lightest first" he said to him knowing that Master Baggins was the one to find a safe path. It was his skill to climb trees and Thorin was a leader who knew how to keep his dwarves alive. Master Baggins was of course reluctant and hesitant as always but Thorin waited knowing he'll deliver. He always did.

The vines were slim and it wasn't easy to walk on them, it looked impossible. That's why Thorin started to go after Master Baggins as soon as he went to another vine. He traced his path because it was the safest route. His dwarves weren't so patient. They spread around moaning but that was their way.

Master Baggins stopped looking at water and Thorin waited for him to start moving again. Just as he thought that Master Baggins will fall in he moved again tracing his path further. Soon they were on safe ground and Thorin jumped beside Master Baggins feeling strangely. He felt dazed.

Then he looked up just to see the White Deer before them in the broad day light claiming this as his realm. Thorin shot an arrow at him not caring if he'll miss out or hit it. The damn being couldn't be killed either way.

"Its bad luck" said Bilbo beside him and Thorin felt like he's talking from far away. Bilbo was gone already, if he was still here it was just to leave as soon as this journey ends.

"Luck" said Thorin with disdain. "I don't believe in luck, we make our own."

Just in that moment Bombur fell into that damned enchanted stream. Thorin wasn't even surprised. The world was always unkind in that way towards dwarves but dwarves marched on making their own luck, crafting the beauty from a crude rock. That's why they all stepped in and pulled Bombur out not caring for the water, warnings or enchantments. They were dwarves they'll carry any fallen dwarf through the woods for eternity if they had to.

Thorin marched on determinant to find a way out, to defeat this darkness, to find their path. He didn't care that the elvish road isn't under their boots, he detested anything elvish anyway. He'll find a way, he always does.

He marched on like he always does pouring all his determination and stubbornness in finding the right path. But the world began to look swirly to his eyes, demons lurked in the shadows, fires were hinted from afar lying in the depths of the Lonely Moutain. There wasn't point in moving forward. Thorin leaned on the tree trunk thinking of the curses that fell upon his dwarves, on the struggle, he was so tired, tired of fighting, of defying, if only he could sleep and get some rest. His eyes were so heavy, his voice echoed from far away.

It was almost a relief when the darkness fell upon him but in it he wasn't sure he's ready to give in, to give up. He tried to move, to fight, to resist but he couldn't move, it was like he was restrained and bind with unbreakable bonds. He felt cold sweat but he refused to give in to fear. He'll fight this like he fought his every fight before this.

He stood still waiting for the restrain to loosen up for an inch, when he gets that inch he'll use it to win, to slay, to conquer. After an eternity there were suddenly light and he rolled out ready to take on his new enemy whatever it might be. There were spiders all around them and Thorin fought surrounded with his dwarves, they took what they had and they always would win. But then there were that damn elves and took the win for themselves.

Tall, thin creatures with white cold skin towered around them expecting gratitude, Thorin gave none. He knew their kin, they were most treacherous than all of their kind. They were led forward again like captives, like they had no right in even passing through the forest, you can't own a forest and forbid creatures to roam through it. Despite what Beorn might think of them dwarves let all creatures that dug through the ground to share their mountain with them.

Thorin looked at his dwarves, he didn't need to count, he knew just by looking that they were all accounted for. Only one missing was their hobbit. Thorin smirked. Of course he managed to stay unseen like he does in danger. He'll turn up soon, probably with a unexpected solution, the one Thorin wouldn't be able to foresee.

That gave him the stubbornness to stand before the Elvish King and give him the respect he deserves. And the respect he deserved was a handy portion of disdain. He deserved nothing and Thorin would rather root in his cells than make a deal with him. Especially a deal so low, so selfish, so unrepentant. There were no offering of help, no regret, nothing. Just selfish greed that was denied by Thorin's grandfather. Thorin would rather die than revoke a decision his grandfather made. Maybe it was foolish in results but dwarves were like that, foolish and stubborn and Thorin wasn't the one to retreat from his elders, to make them shameful before him.

As Thorin sat in his cell other dwarves despaired but he sat firm. All hope wasn't lost. Master Baggins was still free, he wasn't caught with them. He probably wasn't even captured by spiders, like he wasn't by elves. Other dwarves talked and none of them was the one that cut spider traps open. That could be only Master Baggins because he was there while they fought, Thorin saw him wielding his cheese knife with determination. No, Master Baggins won't flee, he won't forsake them. He will find a way, he always does. And he would never forsake Thorin to be lost to a place like this.

I was fascinated in the movie by Thorin's trust in Bilbo in this scene. He just sat there like - Bilbo will come in any second now, no matter that we're in enchanted forest inhabited by giant spiders, in elvish fortress, surrounded by many elvish guards, he'll pop up and save us. - And when he shows up no surprise, just - ah, here you are. - I love that.