Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed last chapter, especially my guest who noted the Frozen reference, I'm sorry I'd just finished a Hobbity Frozen one shot (More Than Just a Spare, filled with child!Fíli and child!Kíli feels) and I still had Frozen on the brain :P

Also thanks to A Creative Hobbit, I'm so glad you enjoyed it so much and thank you for confirming its spam. I realised after reading your review that I don't actually know how to delete reviews so unfortunately it must stay for now anyway, but thank you!

I'm two exams down, one more to go so soon my main priority will be job hunting and UPDATES! Yay!

Please forgive any mistakes I made!

Read. Enjoy. Review.

Chapter Fifty Two # Of Knives and Friends #

Bidding the guard that had accompanied her home goodnight, Elza tried the handle of her front door. Unsurprisingly it was unlocked, so she walked in, assuming that at least one of her brothers had returned from the various laborious tasks that occupied them all each day. It was rather monotonous work that they all partook in, clearing away rubble and strengthening the structures within the mountain, but it was also rather rewarding in Elza's humble opinion. Like most of her race, she had been raised on the tales of the glory of Erebor, and it felt wonderful to think that she was helping to restore it to that glorious city that her parents had known.

"I'm home!" she called out strongly.

"It's about damned time!" the familiar, mildly amused voice of her second oldest brother, Dustan, came floating out from somewhere inside the house.

Irritated by the sound of his smug voice, she yelled back. "Well if you'd met me where you said you would, we wouldn't have a problem!"

"I waited there for nigh on an hour! Oh, you got lost, didn't you?"

"No!" Elza protested adamantly. "I followed your instructions to the letter – leave the entrance hall of the mountain by the third door on the right, walk down the corridor until you reach the end, turn left-"

Dustan's laughter boomed through the walls. "Right, my dear sister, you were supposed to turn right!"

Elza opened her mouth to protest before a faint recollection of her brother's instructions that morning did spring to mind. She groaned, realising her mistake, though she would not admit it aloud. Instead, she twisted the topic. "Yes, well, due to your inability to give clear instructions-" Dustan protested at this but she spoke over him tightly. "-I ran into a rather severe problem."

"What sort of problem?" Dustan walked out of the direction of the larder and froze at the sight of her. "Elsie, is that blood?"

Recognising his panic through the use of her childhood nickname, she nodded. "Yes, but it isn't mine."

"Thank Mahal!" Dustan breathed, striding over to her and inspecting her blood soaked hands and sleeves. "Whose is it? By Durin, it's everywhere!"

"It is the blood of Lord Ori." Elza admitted and Dustan looked up in a panic.

"You didn't…do anything stupid, did you?"

Elza frowned, pulling her hands out of his grasp to place them on her hips. "I beg your pardon? Just what do you mean by that?"

Dustan's face became sterner, his impressive beard only adding to his severity. "Well, the last time I saw you covered in the blood of a noble was after the incident with Lord Arne and-"

"Oh, I am sorry if I humiliated you, brother, but any dwarf who puts his hands on my breasts, whether he is intoxicated or not, will most certainly receive a broken nose at the very least!" Elza argued hotly, trying not to get too angry at her brother.

She could understand why he was worried – they were about as far down the social scale as you could get without mixing with criminals so it was a very dangerous thing to talk back to a noble, let alone punch one in the nose. However, Elza, daughter of Aisa would defend herself against the impropriety and advances of drunken dwarves be they beggars or princes. She knew her place and was more than happy to remain in it, but she would be damned if she was to be trodden on – and surely it was her brother's job to worry about her instead of the slimy man that put his hands on her in such an awful manner.

"It is not about humiliation, Elza!" Dustan groaned, massaging his forehead as if she were a child instead of an adult but five years his junior. He looked like their father, and she loathed that. "You know where we stand in the balance of things – Lord Arne could have had you thrown in jail at a snap of his fingers and no one would have believed a word you said! The only reason you were not thrown into a cell by morning is that Lord Arne was too drunk to remember your face! We cannot afford to make enemies among the nobles!"

"This isn't about Lord Arne!" Elza snapped back, truly angry now. "And I don't think saving Lord Ori's life will make me enemies among the Lords!"

Dustan paused and blinked stupidly. "You saved his life?"

"I think so." Elza paused, wondering if the young dwarf was going to be alright. "At least I hope so. I found him outside the dungeons, bleeding out all over the place, it was horrible. He was alive when I left."

"What do you mean, left?" Dustan demanded and Elza's frown deepened at the accusation in her brother's voice.

"You have less trust in me than an orc!" she complained, though she was careful not to whine. It was bad enough Dastan treating her like a child without Dustan jumping on the bandwagon – just because she looked far younger than she really was did not mean that she was any less capable than any other respectable dwarven woman of her age.

"That's because you don't know when to control your tongue!" Dustan snapped back. "Tell me everything."

"No." Elza retorted hotly, turning and striding off into the bathroom to change her bloodied dress and clean the blood off of her hands. "I will tell Dastan when he returns home and that is final."

"Do not speak to me like that!" Dustan protested furiously, following her down the hall.

Ignoring her insufferable brother, Elza twisted the tap on the bath, unable to repress the swell of joy in her stomach as warm water began to pour into the tub. Back in the Iron Hills their home had been very basic and they had no room to complain, but the homes that had been given to the rankles migrants moving to Erebor all benefited from the ingenious plumbing system that the dwarves of old had implemented in the mountain, and Elza was already enjoying the luxury of having warm water spill from the taps.

After bathing briskly and scrubbing all of the blood out from underneath her fingernails, Elza changed into the only other dress she owned, before washing her soiled gown as best she could in the bathroom sink. Then she began to cook dinner for her brothers, pretending that she was as deaf as a post as Dustan smashed his fist down on the table and demanded to know what happened. As usual, her brother gave up when he realised she was not talking and went to sit down in the living room.

Luckily, Dastan was the next to arrive home and the moment he did, Elza told him the whole truth of exactly what had happened – she had misunderstood Dustan's directions and ended up near to the Eastern Dungeons when she heard the sounds of fighting. After running around the corner, she had seen the backs of the men running away and seen three Lords from the King's Company slumped, unconscious, on the floor. Though they all looked to be breathing, Lord Ori had been bleeding profusely, so she had begun to try and stop the bleeding and then she had called out for help, fully aware that she could not cope alone.

She told her sombre brother of her conversation with the King and Lord Dwalin and her promise to sketch the clothing of her attackers as best she could.

"It is a blessing that you arrived as late as you did, had you been earlier you may have been in danger." Were Dastan's first words and he put a hand on her shoulder, his brotherly affection being far more sincere than Dustan's ever was. "You say the dwarf in the cell was dead?"

"Aye, I believe so but I did not see him. I didn't realise anyone was even in there." She admitted.

"Then you will not have heard his crime." Dastan sighed gravely. "He was part of a group who kidnapped and tortured one of the princes, after attempting to murder the rest of their company."

Elza gasped. "You jest, brother?"

"No." Dastan said bluntly. "If I am honest I don't think the king knows who to trust, and I do not blame him. There is much treachery in this mountain."

Elza swallowed and nodded. "Then I am as glad as I was in the Iron Hills that I am unimportant enough to have it pass me by."

"I do not think it's passing you by this time." Dastan frowned and she elaborated.

"I would think nothing of helping my king in any way I can, but I would hate to have a target placed on my own head."

After that her other brothers began trekking in and dinner was served. The discussion across the table was of the treachery and action they all heard and worried about, though they were very unlikely to have anything to do with it other than Elza's misadventure in the afternoon.

At least, that is what the dwarven woman thoroughly believed when she went to bed that night, unaware that the killers she had spotted that day had seen her face. Sleep was evading her so she heard as the door to her bedroom scraped open. Sitting up in bed with the intent to give whichever brother was disturbing her rest a severe telling off, Elza quickly lit a candle by the side of her bed and screamed bloody murder when she saw the sword in the stranger's hand.

Unwilling to wait for her brothers to come to her aid as the stranger surged forward, Elza rolled out of bed and landed in a crouch on the floor, grabbing her second pewter candlestick and holding it up defensively.

The attacker snarled in annoyance – he clearly was not expecting her to fight back, the coward – and drove his sword forward as if aiming for a motionless dummy. Elza smashed the dwarf on the head with the candlestick and continued her long, drawn out scream, wondering with a stab of fear where her brothers were.

Suddenly the youngest of them all, Daren appeared at the door and yelled out for the others, darting forward with fear filled eyes to help his older sister. She cried out a warning as the stranger's swords passed too close to the ninety year old brother's unprotected stomach, smacking him over the head once again before diving for his sword arm and attempting to wrestle the weapon out of his hands.

At that moment Dastan and Darben, her hopeless resident guards burst through the door, swords in hand and in a few short moments the dwarf who had attacked her was restrained on the floor.

"Elsie, are you alright?" Daren asked, his voice shaking as he tiptoed around the edge of the room to grasp her arm, keeping his eyes trained on their enemy.

She nodded as if in a daze, staring at the dwarf on the floor.

"Elsie!" Daren cried suddenly, terror and pain in his voice and Elza tried to turn to him in a panic to see where he was hurt, but her movements were slow and sluggish, and why were her knees buckling? "Dastan, he got her, the bastard got her!"

"What?" Elza mumbled, though her tongue felt heavy in her mouth. She stared down and gasped in shock at the small knife protruding from her chest. Blood was spilling out across her nightgown and now that she saw the blade she could feel it, and to her surprise it hurt intensely. She staggered back but Daren caught her, lowering her to the floor and crying out her name over and over again. A part of her marvelled at the odd angle of the blade – not many people were stabbed with the blade almost parallel with their skin, but she supposed the struggle would account for the odd positioning of the blade.

The rest of her just wondered how she could think like that while her blood was spilling out across the floor, and that was the last thing she remembered.


"I think we are going to have company."

Bilbo looked up at Elrohir's casual remark, squinting at the horizon. They had been travelling down the Anduin for several days now, and the hobbit was quite proud of the way he was handling the weather, if he did say so himself.

However, handling the weather was one thing, but external threats of the sentient kind…

"Company?" he asked almost nervously. "What sort of company?"

"They appear to be dwarves, Master Baggins." Elladan decided, his eyes narrowing and widening just a fraction as he focussed on something in the distance that Bilbo could not see. "Around five of them, if I am correct – they have a wagon, by the looks of things."

"You are not correct, brother dear." Elrohir smirked, tossing his head back to make a show of knowing more than his twin. "There are seven of them – they have two children with them in the wagon."

"Ah, of course they do. I see now." Elladan nodded, looking a little irked.

"Who travels with children in the winter?" Bilbo worried, his grip on his pony's reigns becoming suddenly much tenser as he glanced over at Kíli. His son was sniggering about something with Bofur and not at all listening to the conversation that had painted worry onto the faces of Bilbo and Fíli.

"Those who have need to do so - or those who do not fear their children catching cold." Elladan explained, not sounding particularly worried. "Even as children, dwarves are not overly concerned by the cold."

"It is quite rare for our people to travel with young ones in winter, but then again it's also quite rare for our people to travel with little ones if it can be avoided – especially after the troubles of the last couple of centuries. That being said, there are some families already making their way to Erebor." Nori pointed out to Bilbo. "Like the elf said, dwarven children aren't easily put off (or harmed, much) by the cold as long as they have half decent clothes– actually, that's probably why Kíli survived that river in the first place-" Bilbo winced at the dwarf's matter of fact tone, but if Nori noticed he did not mention it. "Most dangers that face us on the road are in the form of orcs and trolls and the like, so some deem the winter as safer for travel, assuming you have enough provisions and a good plan. They say orcs don't like the snow much and all retreat to their hovels in the ground. They're all nutters in my humble opinion, but you know, it happens."

Bilbo stared at the horizon – he thought he could just about make out the shape of several dark blots on the white landscape. "Do you think they're… do you think we should be worried?"

Elrohir narrowed his eyes slightly and his head tipped slightly as he tried to get a better view. "Well, I think we should be on our guard but I do not think we should be worried – it is likely that they are travelling to Erebor and if they are it's likely that they're loyal enough to Thorin."

Bilbo glanced across at Kíli as he nodded. His son had not been behaving as he had expected him to since the kidnapping incident, and Bilbo could not tell whether or not that was a bad thing. Kíli was no quieter than usual – indeed, he had not been so talkative since before the Gold Sickness had settled in over the company. Bilbo was terrified that there was something very wrong with Kíli, but he could not bring himself to ask and disturb the apparent happiness his son had found.

The hobbit himself was still unable to sleep for imagining the awful things that had happened to his Kíli.

As the day drew on, the company of dwarves grew closer and closer and Bilbo moved his pony closer and closer to Kíli's. The hobbit's fear rose as Fíli's posture stiffened and Kíli's eyes began to flicker more and more often towards the advancing dwarves. Bofur and Kíli did their best to keep the conversation going, and Gandalf's apparent ease did help a little, but when the dwarves' faces began to become visible, the clear tension in the strangers' strides added to Bilbo's rising fear.

But suddenly Fíli sat up straight and called out in a strong, unwavering voice. "Ehren?"

The dwarf in the front of the stranger's company paused and pushed up the hat that was partially hiding his eyes. Then he grinned, waving and calling back. "Fíli!"

Bilbo glanced at Fíli, who turned to the others with a relieved smile. "I know these people!"

Fíli flicked at the reigns of his pony, urging him on faster and grinning when the rest of his company followed. It took less than a minute for them to reach his friends and he dismounted his pony with a grin.

"Hello, Ehren!"

"It's good to see you, Fíli!" his friend replied enthusiastically, crossing the ice to embrace Fíli fiercely for a moment. Fíli returned the hug for a moment, before pulling away and turning to his own company.

"Everyone, this is a good friend of mine, Ehren. Ehren, you may know Bofur and Nori. This is Bilbo Baggins, Gandalf the Grey, Elladan and Elrohir, the sons of Elrond and very good friends of Erebor, and my brother, Kíli." Fíli introduced proudly.

Ehren's grey eyes opened wide as he stared at Kíli, who shifted on his pony with a shy little smile. "So it's true… It's been a while, Kíli. I don't suppose you remember me?"

Fíli opened his mouth to explain the extent of his brother's memory loss, but Kíli interrupted him. "Your name is Ehren? Fíli has mentioned you before, but I think… I think I remember – were you there on Fíli's sixtieth birthday?"

Fíli smiled as Ehren grinned widely. "I most certainly was!"

"He's had several flashbacks," Fíli explained., unable to keep the pride from his voice. "He remembers very little."

"Then I'm flattered." Ehren beamed, and Fíli breathed deeply in pure relief.

There were very few dwarves in the Blue Mountains that he would rather see than Ehren, who had been a good friend of his since long before Kíli was ever lost. While Kíli had formed familial bonds with many of his hobbit friends, Fíli had become somewhat detached from his own friends for a while, but a small group of them waited for him to slowly come into himself and Ehren had been among them. He was not as close to Fili as Kíli could claim he was with his hobbits, but they were good friends nevertheless.

"Hang on, I think I recognise you-" Bofur began, but all of a sudden a couple of dual squeals came from the wagon and two familiar little heads popped up.

"Mister Bofur! Mister Bofur!" Ehren's two little cousins cheered, their faces alight with glee.

Bofur laughed. "Now I know exactly who we're dealing with. Hello Master Ren, Miss Seren."

"Have you got any toys with you, Mister Bofur?" the little girl asked hopefully.

"Seren!" the girl's mother scolded. "We're on the road; you do not need any more toys."

Seren and Ren both just leant over the side of the wagon and smiled serenely at Bofur and Kíli laughed aloud.

Fíli grinned at his brother's happiness (though it was not as rare as it had feared it would be when they rescued him from the bastard kidnappers) and Ehren interrupted his aunt's reprimand to introduce the company to his aunt, uncle, two cousins, his father and his mother.

To the children's delight and their mother's weary amusement, Bofur produced two wooden figurines from his bag, showing them to the enchanted siblings.

"Is that Smaug?" Ren whispered, his eyes wide with awe.

"Aye, it is." Bofur nodded seriously.

"And a pretty good likeness to him, too." Fíli added, and Ren's eyes doubled in size.

"You saw the dragon, Mister Fíli?"

"Aye, I did." Fíli nodded, pointing at his own brother. "Kíli shot him, and I hit him with a knife, though neither of us could fell the beast. Do you know who killed him?"

Ren and Seren shook their heads sombrely and Ehren spoke up. "We heard some joke about that young scribe Ori slaying the beast-"

"That is no joke." Nori called out, pride and a little offense ringing out clearly in his tone. "Ori killed Smaug with a spear, I'm told it was very impressive."

As Ehren looked, amazed, at the nodding Fíli for confirmation, Seren spoke up. "Did you not see, then?"

"Nah, I was too busy clinging onto the worm's tooth inside his mouth, trying not to get eaten." Nori winked and the children gasped.

"Wow!" Seren turned to her mother. "Can we see the dragon?"

"It's gone now." Bofur explained and the two children looked disappointed until they remembered the trigger of the conversation.

"So that's what it did look like?" Ren confirmed, pointing back at the toy.

Nodding, Bofur, pulled another figure out of his bag. "This is the hero that killed the dragon!"

Though he was amazed by the impressive resemblance to Ori, Fíli turned away while Bofur showed the children the mechanics of the toys and grinned at Ehren.

"I take it your leg's healed, then?"

Ehren's face instantly darkened and his father let out a booming laugh.

"Aye, it's healed, Master Fíli, but he didn't half complain in the meantime. 'I could have gone on the stupid quest but no! I have to stay here like a coward while Fíli rides off into the distance lie a warrior prince of old with his hair flowing in the wind as he-'" The older dwarf put on a high pitched tone as if he were imitating a girl and Fíli laughed freely as a red faced Ehren interrupted him.

"I did not sound like that! I will admit that I was mildly disappointed that I broke my leg two days before we were due to leave for Erebor, but I took it like a grown dwarf!"

"So you complained a lot then?" Kíli teased from atop his pony and Fíli looked up at his brother, laughing.

There was a slight reservation in Kíli's eyes, but it did not look like fear, at least not fear for his wellbeing. It was more like the fear Fíli had seen when they first began talking at Bag End, the fear that maybe he had crossed a line he could not see.

Ehren snorted and laughed, and the tension eased out of Kíli's eyes. "I suppose you have a point there, Kíli. I just have to say that it is wonderful to see you alive."

"Thank you," Kíli smiled sincerely. "It's nice to meet you properly. Again."

"Agreed! I must also say that it's an honour to meet Bilbo Baggins." Ehren said sincerely, turning and bowing at Bilbo. "Thank you for looking after this nutcase."

Fíli had to grin at Ehren's bluntness – many dwarves were yet to achieve subtlety but Ehren had to take the biscuit.

"Oh... you're welcome." Bilbo smiled slightly, and Fíli noted that though the hobbit's hands had relaxed around the reins a little he looked more than a little confused at Ehren's greeting. "It's lovely to meet you, too."

"You're Bilbo Baggins? You didn't look like I thought you did." Seren volunteered shyly, her eyes on at Bilbo.

Bilbo blinked, glancing at Fíli in confusion. "That's… um… Like you thought I did? How do you know who I am?"

Seren's eyes widened. "You're a hero, Mister Baggins, sir. Because you looked after the prince and because you joined the brave company and helped to kill the dragon and make everything alright so we can come to Erebor! Everyone knows who you are! You look cuddlier than I thought you would, I thought you'd be scarier, like a warrior…"

"Nuh-uh, everyone knows hobbits aren't warriers." Ren interrupted. "But I thought you'd be bigger."

Bilbo looked rather stunned at the revelation that his name was known in Ered Luin, but the side of him that had raised a little child still shone through and he shrugged at the children. "Well, I'm awfully sorry to disappoint you but I'm just little old me. If you want a story or a poem then I'm your hobbit but if you want a warrior you'd be much better off talking to somebody else."

"You tell stories, too?" Ren gasped, his eyes widening to the size of saucers.

"You're perfect, Mister Bilbo Baggins!" Seren squeaked happily. "Please tell us a story!"

"You walked right into that one, Bilbo." Kíli pointed out with a smile.

"I think now would be a prime time for us to steal a short break for lunch." Ehren's father declared, looking to Fíli. "Would you care to join us?"

Fíli looked around at the faces of their company. Nori, Bofur, Kíli and Bilbo looked ready to leap off their ponies without a second thought and pull out a picnic blanket, and Gandalf just looked mildly amused at the whole situation. Elladan and Elrohir appeared less comfortable, though they both nodded slightly at Fíli's questioning look.

Absently wondering why he was the one who seemingly had the authority to make such decisions, Fíli smiled. "Why not?"

Ehren's family pulled several large boxes of belongings off of the wagon to make space for everyone to sit down, though Fíli, Kíli, Bilbo and Ehren ended up in the wagon with the two very excited dwarflings. The stories Bilbo told to the captivated dwarflings entertained everyone while they ate and Fíli was happy to see how comfortable Kíli seemed around his friends. Ehren was a very easy dwarf to get along with, and by the end of the meal Kíli and Ehren were having an animated conversation of their own.

Soon, however, the afternoon became undeniable and both companies accepted that they would have to move on. Seren and Ren tried convincing them to return to Erebor with them, but the loss of their new friends was eased when Bofur gifted the little ones the dragon toy, as well as several dwarven figurines to play with on the way to the Lonely Mountain.

Bidding farewell to Ehren was not overly difficult as Fíli was certain they would meet again before too long and soon enough they were travelling once more.

"Well, that was a nice surprise." Kíli commented, smiling at Fíli.

"Aye, it was. Ehren fully intended on accompanying us to Erebor, only he was unfortunate enough to get in a fight with an angry bull two days before we left." The elder brother explained with a fond smile. "Idiot."

"Seren and Ren come into the shop a lot." Bofur commented. "They rarely buy anything, but sometimes they sit there for hours just staring at all the toys and bickering over which one's the best – they're quite adorable really."

Fíli made a face. "Not when you are woken up by them jumping all over you while you are completely hung over."

"I am very glad that the first people we came across are so fond of you, Fíli." Gandalf spoke up for the first time in a while. "But we may well be seeing others on this road and they may not all be as friendly. That being said, we should come to no harm."

Over the coming weeks, the company did indeed come across several other groups of travellers but though they were all strangers many had foodstuffs they were willing to trade or sell, meaning that the travellers' diet was a little more varied than the dull yet plentiful provisions they had packed.

The weeks passed by in the comfortable monotony of uneventful travel and Fíli found that he was slowly able to get over the constant fear that his brother might be torn from him again. He could not count the times he had given thanks that shadows of horror did not haunt his brother's eyes as they had after the battle. Kíli was healing and he was healing faster than the others, and that was all Fíli needed to be whole and healing himself.

And so the small company of travellers rode towards the south, towards home and towards hope.

There we go that's a nicer ending for a chapter, isn't it?

I hope you enjoyed that chapter and I'd love it if you told me what you thought! This is a bit of a filler I'm afraid, but I promise we're coming closer to reunions and to more information on the treachery plaguing the mountain.

As a note RE this chapter and the previous ones: I'm very aware that lots of new characters are being introduced at the moment. I'm very wary about OCs and they always have purpose, but I really don't like introducing them all at once like this, though unfortunately I don't have a choice – Ehren and Jari were supposed to be introduced in Kíli's flashback about Dís which was supposed to be earlier than this but I couldn't get it to fit so now everyone's arriving at once and I'm sorry! Some will have larger rolls than others but they're all here for a purpose and I hope you can forgive me for the sudden flood of OCs.

This is the first time I've ever used a line thingy in the middle of the chapter so I hope it worked!

Thanks for reading, I'll update as soon as I can (though that may be a little while)