As Bilbo hung on to what used to be the mast for dear life he wished, not for the first or last time, that he was back home, in his cosy house, by his warm fire, where thunderstorms and shipwrecks were not a problem he had to face, and his biggest trouble was what his second breakfast would consist of. The saltwater stung his eyes and made every little scratch or cut the little burglar had acquired feel like an amputation.

Bilbo was soon put out of his misery, as his toes touched the soft sand of a beach. He did not know where he was, nor could he see the pirates anywhere. He lay on the sand, close to the treeline, and as far away from the tide as possible. Soon, someone shook his shoulder.

"Bilbo, we have a fire going." said Bofur, offering the cobbler a hand up.

"Where are we?"

" Somewhere in the Misty Straits" responded the pirate, " as precise a reading as Balin can get."

The pirates were lucky, as one of their supply packs had washed to shore, and so Dori was able to make broth for all of them. It was watery and tasted very salty but the company was just pleased to have something in their stomachs. The giant trees loomed ominously behind them, cutting the cheerful conversations short. Even Kili and Fili seemed solemn.

Soon, everyone drifted off to sleep, while Bilbo tossed and turned, the dark forrest seeming more and more sinister by the moment. The cobbler dreamed of bag end once again, in its friendly and familiar greens and yellows, and in his dream these colours turned all the more dark, until he was once again surrounded by the trunks of tall trees and the only source of light were the torches carried by Goblins.

Bilbo awoke shouting, his hand reaching toward the hunting knife Gandalf had given him out of fear. But the knife now glowed with a pale blue light.

"I must still be dreaming" he mused.

He looked at the forest, now dotted with light, and told himself there was nothing to be afraid of.

Kili was yanked out of sleep when someone started dragging him. He opened his eyes to see a Goblin had taken hold of his foot and was taking him towards the big dark woods.

As the trees passed overhead, Kili felt like a five year old child, running crying to his brother's arms for fear of the dark. He soon realised he wasn't the only one being ushered into the darkness. Fili was dragged past him, blood staining his brother's golden hair. Despite himself, Kili laughed a bit. Typical Fili, struggling until knocked out.

"Fili. Fili! Nadad" Kili hissed.

Fili's eyes lazily opened.

"What?"

"Are you okay?"

"My head hurts a bit."

The two brothers were thrown to the ground, a boot placed on their back, as were the rest of the crew.

"Well, well. What do we have here? A bunch of nasty little Khuzdai." sneered the Great Goblin. "Here to steal my kingdom."

A round of shouting in agreement came from the goblins that had found them on the beach. As Kili lifted his head he saw there were rows upon rows of them, as far as he could see from his current uncomfortable position on the forest floor.

"I say we punish them for their insolence of staying at our beach." the Great Goblin let out a malicious laugh. "Start with the youngest." he said, before turning back to sit on his throne.

Kili struggled with his captors, on his feet in a matter of seconds. His elbow connected with one of their noses, causing a pleasant crunch to echo.

The instant the Great Goblin has instructed Kili be tortured, a low growl started forming in Thorin's throat. He was protective over all the crew, but Kili and Fili he had made a promise to his sister to keep as safe as he could. Keeping safe also meant not to be tortured.

"Stop" he shouted, pushing the goblin guard off his back. "Leave him be."

"Thorin Oakenshield." mused the Great Goblin, "What are you doing on this side of the Misty Straights?"