This is a much shorter chapter. I really wanted to get this one up quickly. I have almost finished writing the third, and will be onto the fourth pretty soon. These chapters are sort of background info.

Found it really difficult to do Thorins POV, I am not sure if I got him right at all. I won't be doing Thorin's POV very often.

Please review!

Thorin's POV

We had been travelling for weeks, and for once I was thankful for the Company of the friends and family. The chatter was endless behind me as we continued on our small ponies east-bound. We had stopped and ate and slept in the most uncomfortable of places, with stones digging into our backs and wind in our faces. I was glad we were riding on horseback and not walking, walking was much slower and I doubted if we were walking we would have gotten to Erebor on time for Durin's day.

The chatter continued behind me, something about a lost handkerchief, but I continued on without commenting and almost smiled when Dwalin replied that we would be doing without a lot of things on our adventure. Indeed, we would be doing without comfort for the next months or so.

The comfort of the shire was now long behind us, and so were the most pleasant of people wishing us a merry way. The journey ahead was full of hills and abandoned castles where the weather would probably we as unwelcoming as the people.

Even Kili and Fili, the most boisterous of the Company went quiet as the rain lashed upon them, the sun long forgotten and the jesting gone with it. The ponies hobbled along as Gandalf drew upfront stopping in front of me. I looked up at him in questioning.

"We should stop soon, the ponies are tired and your Company are weary. Dinner and a good night's rest is what we all need" Galdalf explained. I nodded in agreement after looking around the 12 dwarfs and at the small hobbit. Bilbo was surprisingly cheerful but the dwarves were looking unhappy, their beards collecting water and their clothing sodden.

"We stop when we find shelter" I called out over the wind. A few of the dwarves nodded and we trotted on. There was a sheltered area not far from the path we were on. I stopped at the edge of a forest and dismounted my pony. "We'll rest here" I said and looked around for Gandalf. He had his chin held high, as if he were looking or listening for something. Everyone was unloading their bed rolls under the trees on the dry ground and untacking their ponies. I made to check the forest out, and patrol the area. There was no one around and I could see no dangers so I was not gone long and when I came back the fire had been set up and upon the fire was a large bowl with some sort of stew inside. I assume that was bomfurs's doing. He enjoyed cooking, you could tell that when you took one look at him- his large frame and pot belly would be his downfall I was sure of it, but he made excellent food.

"Aye, he's back. Thorin, supper is ready" Nori says as he shoves a warm bowl of stew in my hand and a small slice of bread. I set my axe down and sat on my bedroll. The stew smells good and I eat it silently as the rest of the company groan in appreciation. Bomfur is delighted- he smiles as everyone enjoys his food and digs into his own bowl of stew, which looks to be slightly fuller that my own. It is a good hearty meal after being on the road so long and eating barely anything but bread.

I volunteer to stay up to keep the first watch as the rest of the company settled down. Bilbo is near the fire, keeping warm and safe and surrounded by already snoring dwarves. I tell Fili that I will wake him in a few hours for his watch before he falls asleep. Gandalf had long since wandered off, seeming to be arguing with himself; I left him to his own devices. It is after all, Gandalf.

Salara POV

The voices are loud, joking and shouting, and someone eventually tells the voices to shut up for better lack of a word. I can smell something and it smells heavenly. I want to walk further towards the smell, my stomach makes noises and I am so hungry, the fish in my belt pouch no longer sounds so appetizing in comparison to what I can smell. I also want to go back to the safety of my cave, where there is no noise and I feel safe. The noises are loud and I turn around, deciding to cook my dinner, I can no longer ignore the pains in my stomach. The voices are probably stragglers wondering through, and they will be gone by the morrow and everything will be back as it was.

I look back as I walk further away; the voices are no longer loud and obnoxious, rather quiet. It is almost… nice to hear the voices of real people again, it has been so long I had almost forgotten what people sounded like, I rarely used my own voice it was unnecessary.

I get back to my cave and drop the wood on the ground, stored the water skins away and began making a fire. I unrolled the fish from the rag and looked at my pathetic catch. It had long since died and the eyes were glazed over, wide and scared. I almost felt sorry that it had to die for me, but I was much too hungry to care as I stabbed the fish with the dagger and brought it over the small fire. I had made the fire inside the cave but as close the entrance as I could, it would be visible if anyone passed by, but not by much.

The fish was small but the small amount filled me up and I chucked the bones out of the cave. I let the fire die out before leaving the cave once more.

It was dark out now, even more so under the trees and I could no longer hear voices. They must have gone, I thought as the silence all but echoed in the trees. I could still smell the faint smell of food and I silently walked close to where I was earlier in the day. They might have gone but I did not wanted to alert anyone or anything else that I was here.

As I got close, I could hear noises. I smiled slightly, I had often heard my father make similar noises, the loud, pig like sound coming from his nose. This was much louder and I stepped closer and looked through the trees. There was a small fire burning away, I could make out many figures in the dark. Small figures, almost as small as me, lying on the ground, the noises were coming from a few of them. There were also horses, small horses tied to trees, we had owned a horse once, a small thing used for ploughing, he had been old and had died when I was quite young but I remember my father putting my on his back once and guiding me along the plains.

Near the fire there were bowls and something similar to a pot, there were bags and weapons, large metal weapons help by almost each figure in their sleep. I look around, and spot on one of the horses, a large stick and on the stick there are three small scrawny rabbits, dead and skinned. My mouth watered at the thought of meat and I took two steps towards the horse, it moved its head to look at me wearily but stayed where it was and made no noise. I stayed close to the trees in the dark and was thankful that it was so dark, save for the light from the dying fire. I reached the pony, looking over to the sleeping forms and grasped one of the rabbits. It was tied to the stick so I slipped the dagger silently out of my belt and began cutting away the leather bindings. I stroked the horses flank to keep him calm as I used the dagger. I had almost got it undone, when I felt something cold and sharp against the back of my neck.

I froze, tensed up and turned my head slightly. A gruff voice spoke up, anger evident in the tone.

"Do not move, one step and your head will be on the ground"

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