Their pace was slow and weak; none of them had eaten a thing in two days. Ori had seen several shows of selflessness throughout this past week: Bofur giving Bombur his last remains of food, Dwalin relinquishing his shares to Balin, who was the eldest and therefore would take lack of food the worst, Óin giving Dori some because since he had given Nori (for the first time in decades) and Ori his he needed to keep up his strength. Thorin, Fíli and Kíli were the ones that were taking it best; the two last being young and Thorin thinking himself too good for complaining. If only Ori could be like that...! Right now he gnashed his teeth and strode on absently trying not to groan and double over. He shouldn't have been so weak! He was young, the same age as Kíli! Why did it have to hurt so much? Apparently he wasn't the only one whose hunger was driving them mad. Their burglar's face was set grimly in a deathly determined expression. Bofur kept chewing on his pipe anxiously despite having run out of tobacco long before having run out of food. Balin looked weary, while he never did: not after the goblins, not after the eagles, not even yesterday. But today he looked frail and faint, and Dwalin was kind enough to help him up when he fell. The only one that wasn't keeping his hunger to himself was Bombur, and even mild-mannered Ori was fed up with his protests.

"I can't, I can't," he kept sobbing; and in a wail, he said, "I need to lie down. I'm not as used to this as you are!"

Thorin stopped in his tracks, and everyone knew what was coming. "Uncle," started Fíli as he tried to clutch Thorin's elbow, but he shrugged it off sharply and turned with a perfectly murderous look on his face. Ori backed away fearfully when Thorin crossed his way, and instinctively hung on to Dori when he shuffled past the dwarves.

"You came, along with your brother and cousin, to this quest, no matter the hardships. Your presence at Bag End showed your commitment to the Company," growled Thorin almost savagely to the fatter dwarf.

"Which I barely remember. Could I take it back, I would!" shot back Bombur defiantly, and Bofur beside him shook him to see if he could say some sense.

"Is that so?"

"He doesn't mean it!" interrupted Bofur, his voice feeble and crackly.

"Then Erebor means nothing to you!" roared Thorin to Bombur.

"We are NOT on the way to Erebor! We are starving in the woods!" answered Bombur in despair.

Thorin took a step forward with every intention to strike him down, then recalled that despite his current affliction of forgetfulness, Bombur was still a dwarf in thirteen that had come when Dáin's armies did not. He had been loyal during his saner days, and it would be merciless to punish him. Instead, he grunted and turned back to the head of the dwarves.

"If he is not to walk he won't be helped," he concluded gruffly to the others.

"I won't!" declared Bombur, incredibly stubborn, as he sat down. "Go on, if you must! I'm just going to lie here and sleep and dream of food, if I can't get it any other way. I hope I never wake up again."

It was heartbreaking to see poor old Bombur an absolute wreck, but above all, giving up on the quest. Ori winced when he heard the usually light-hearted Bofur trying to coax him to stand, and then Balin's now languid voice interrupted them.

"What was that? I thought I saw a twinkle of light in the forest." Light? Ori looked around in confusion and exhaustion. They had given up on light oh so long ago. Yet, there it was! A glimmer somewhere among the trees. Bombur rushed among them to get towards the light, and as he said encouraging words on the lights Bofur tried to pull him from his hood and protested uselessly.

"A feast would be no good if we never got back alive from it," said Thorin haughtily, trying to maintain authority. Bombur answered back, but by then Ori was blocking out the conversations, only catching things like "raspberry tart" "imminent, unknown danger" and "starvation" (which promptly made his stomach growl wildly, and he refrained from complaining. He was not going to complain. He would be loyal to their-

"Come on, Ori," pleaded Nori gently, and he realized that he had been staring at the lights in longing, and when Thorin pointed towards the lights with a trembling finger, Ori was third to follow him. Bombur and then Bilbo had rushed first impatiently. Ori followed them, staggering wildly, and then Kíli and Fíli followed, more cautious than the others. It was some time before the distant lights became little more than glitter in the dark, and when they approached the shape of the fire in the middle of a circle of felled trees, and when Ori saw the elves eating and drinking he forgot his visions, that now seemed to be bad nightmares long past, he forgot Thorin's wretched accounts of their betrayal of Erebor. All he could think of was the food of putting food in his mouth, and at the scent of meat Ori lost it, stepping forward into the clearing with everyone following their own lead towards the elves.

Ori shivered once again out of the discomfort of hunger, but did not protest verbally. It was his shift, alongside Dori, and he had to take it on. After his last premonition he had lost his fear of sleep, and pleasant dreams like the past one would not be amiss right now, especially when it would help forget the torturous hunger pangs. Dori took notice of his discomfort and, thinking it was cold, took off his cape for the now protesting Ori, who refused to take it. It was then when the elder brother looked above Ori to something that delighted him.

"The lights are coming out, and there are more than ever of them," he called out loudly to the mass of sleeping dwarves.

Apart from Bombur, everyone was roused in a few instants, and even he was convinced at the mention of lights again. Once they had approached the lights and laughter that seemed to go with them, Thorin stopped Bombur from leaping forward into the crowd of elves that came with the lights. Then he motioned Bilbo to go on, and the hobbit looked offended.

"No rushing this time! No one is to stir from hiding till I say. I shall send Mr. Baggins alone first to talk to them. They won't be frightened of him" (at this point the poor burglar's face was full of disbelief) "and any way I hope they won't do anything nasty to him." Ori forced a guilty smile when Fíli was the first one to assume his uncle's lack of compassion and push the poor hobbit into the clearing.

The darkness that stamped out the light was so sudden it might have been more powerful than a spark in the dark. At least Ori, despite not being very well at telling where anything was in the dark he knew that Dori was still beside him, that none of the dwarves had moved. There was only one person whose position was unaccounted for, and that was Bilbo.

"Bilbo?" called out Bofur tentatively. There was no answer. "Bilbo!"

The dwarves began to speak all at once trying to tell whether Bilbo was beside any of them. "Bilbo! Bilbo!"

"Where could he have gone to? It took us an eternity to find ourselves after that first blaze," grumbled Dori.

"Please tell me you know anything about what is happening," said Kíli's voice behind him. He turned around in astonishment; partly because he hadn't know Kíli was there, and partly because he was hurt Kíli would blab about his secret to Dori.

"What is he talking about, Ori?" asked Dori.

"Why me? I know the same as you as to what is happening!" snapped Ori to Kíli, although his voice was now right beside him.

"No? I'm sorry, then," he answered, but Ori could tell he wasn't sorry at all. It took a long time tentatively looking in the gloom, but the burglar was simply not appearing.

"Curse that hobbit! Now we're burglarless-!" began Dori, then he cried out when he tripped with a log, and Ori helped him up when he could now tell what he had tripped with. "It's Bilbo! Bilbo!" cried out Dori to the fallen burglar, but he was fast asleep and curled on the ground. He groaned, and now all the dwarves gathered around and were relieved that the burglar had shown some sign of life. Thorin sighed. But the hobbit left out an angry moan. Something was wrong.

"I was having a lovely dream all about having a most gorgeous dinner." Everyone groaned in total exasperation.

Ori ignored their complaints as Kíli nudged him and pointed to a fire a few feet away, and he called: "There's a regular blaze of light not far away-hundreds of torches and many fire must have been lit suddenly and by magic. And hark to the singing and harps!"

Music. If there was one more torturous vanishing, Ori thought, he would go insane. Ori stepped forward and approached the lights and noticed his companions all doing the same thing, hypnotized by the light, warmth, food and music. And when they finally took a good look at the feast they were astonished. The guests were elves bedecked in jewels fair and leaves emerald, with such lavish and sumptuous food it was mouthwatering, not to mention heartbreaking. At the head was the Elvenking Ori had seen in that dream, crowned with flowers and silver. But when Thorin stepped forward, the darkness was so absolute the king's face could have been easily been erased from existence.

After a few moments of flailing around wildly and calling out the first names he thought of, Ori finally got a grip on himself-and on his slingshot, which he grabbed and took out impulsively and aimed at the darkness. Slowly, he got used to seeing just the very faint outlines of trees, the small breaks of light about them, and stuck his slingshot back in his pocket. It would be useless where he couldn't aim at anything. Instead, he placed his hand on the long-handed mace Fíli had lent him ever since they had lent Beorn's home, and bitterly remembered the food they had been given. His stomach rumbled once again, but he no longer cared as much about food if there was danger, and he had mysteriously gotten energy from nowhere. he looked around furtively in fear, and began to grope around in the darkness with his left hand. Nothing. In his desperation he began calling out even louder than before. "Nori! Dori! Bilbo! Thorin! Fíli! Kíli! Bofur!" He suppressed a whimper and instead strode onward, trying to find the path. That was what they had tried to do the first time they had gotten lost.

But it was still thirty minutes of trudging along into the darkness when he began to listen to the faint clacking noise. His grip on the mace became tighter and tighter until the clacking had diminished somewhat far off to the right, at least a mile from him. Then a rustling noise replaced it, like the sound of someone staggering and dashing through the woods. And the faint moan that came from the shadow Ori recognized instantly.

"Nori! Nori!" he called out, and rushed towards his brother, who was panting heavily. "Nori, what's wrong? Have you seen the others? Nori!"

"Ori!" Nori sounded absolutely exhausted, but then his tone became alarmed and fierce. "We have to be ready, they're coming!"

As Nori fell to the ground Ori kneeled beside him, and noticed the strange glints that covered him. "What is coming? Why are you bleeding?"

The clacking sound became loud and audible suddenly, and Nori let out a terrified gasp. Nori who never showed fear, who was always doing something illegal. Ori lifted his mace and kept it ready for any assailant that came to them.

It was too late. From the shadows leaped an enormous eight-legged figure, and Ori lashed out with the mace just as it settled on his brother, who let out a strangled yell cut off by it.

Ori whimpered, knowing that an interrupted shout like that could only mean one thing. The spider, although temporarily stunned by the mace, instantly jumped on to him, and Ori's shrill screams reached no one, as he pulled out his dagger and began to fight against the monster. But the final attack was not frontal: instead, the stinger pierced him on his left side, and his last shriek was extinguished by the power of the spider-poison that filled his veins. His eyes looked up as they turned glassy and dim for a single glance at the sky.

The halls of their guest house they had been given generously by the Esgaroth men echoed easily, and Ori could easily hear the heated argument as if he was right beside the fighters, and it was painful to hear the words, which were harsh and directed at each other as carefully directed as a dagger through the ribs. He was beside the door of the room where it was happening, and a dreading Fíli was beside him, as pierced by the words as the second party, which was mostly silent.

"You care nothing about your bloodline not only by fraternizing with the enemy of your race, your family and your self, since they imprisoned us, starved us and tried to extract our secrets, but by actually disgracing us all, revealing the objective of our quest to a bewitching elf woman!"

"Tauriel had her orders!"

"Don't speak of her by name! She is just one of the scheming vermin that abandoned us while our homes was in ruins, and never lifted a finger aiding us construct a new home!"

"She was not there!"

"Well, then, what will you say of the display in Mirkwood, Kíli? You traitorous, dishonoring boy! I am glad that if I fall, a proper dwarf would take my place, a dwarf that knows that anyone that befriends the elves is no more lying, vile and heartless than them!"

His bellows affected Fíli deeply, as his already horrified face sagged even more than before.

Kíli would not answer.

"You have nothing to say for yourself?"

"Only that I will follow whatever order or punishment you deem best for this betrayal," answered Kíli heavily.

A sharp noise hit their ears, and Fíli and Ori looked at each other in disbelief at the sound.

"Go," ordered Thorin wearily. "I should not have striked you. You and I are of the line of Durin, and I should act like one even when you haven't. You would have remained here until we conquered the mountain in other days, or kept from your share of gold. But if it rests with me you shall be exiled of Erebor once the quest is over and payment done," declared Thorin sternly.

At this point Fíli could no more; and he walked towards the door despite Ori's warnings and burst into the room in indignation.

"Fíli? What is this?"

"You would do him an injustice if you banished him, Thorin. This wasn't calculated betrayal, this was the foolishness of youth and love."

"Hey!"

"Even more reason, because a foolhardy young boy is only a danger to his own side. We should never make it to Erebor if he continued like this," pointed out Thorin.

"Have you forgotten of Ori's testimony? We shall need Kíli-"

"I remember his words all too well. I should have listened to his words more carefully. He predicted his fascination with that elf and our imprisonment."

"You should believe his other words. We will see battle, and we will need each other," replied Fíli.

Thorin sighed once more. "I am a failure to my heritage if I show mercy, but I will. Go."

"Thorin was being ridiculous by trying to banish Kíli. Really, what's the harm of the elves? I know they locked us up and will probably want their share in our treasure and all that, but the lad was happy," Bofur commented as he took his pipe out of his mouth, then exhaled.

Bombur grunted. "Yes, he was, but elves aren't even very attractive."

"So yes, I prefer my women with more hair, but they were basically made for each other..."

"Because Kíli only has stubble instead of a beard? Well, maybe so," laughed Bombur, then began to look around the packs for something to eat. "Is there anything else to eat than cram?"

"You know there is," rebuked Bofur when Bombur stuck his hand in a pack, and slapped it. "We're saving the better food for later. We don't want to end up eating cram while we're surrounded by mountains of gold, now, do you?"

"No," replied Bombur, although he looked like he really did.

"And it's not much about the beard," resumed Bofur after taking another smoke.

"Then what is about? The archery?" boomed his brother.

Bombur looked up to the steep cliff they had to climb to reach the Mountain, and sighed. "I really want to go up there."

"You said it yourself. You'd trip on your beard or the rope would break and we would be thirteen again," recalled Bofur. He was looking up the cliff wistfully too, despite having come up once or twice. "And it's not about the archery, either. It's not like you married your wife because she was a cook too," continued Bofur.

"I didn't, but I have better taste in women than Kíli, anyway," answered Bombur succinctly. He shivered from the wintry cold the wind carried, and pulled his hood over his head at the breeze. But at the sudden violent gale that struck them both they looked at each other in alarm. Their rocky glen would never have wind that blew this furiously...or warmly. At a not so faraway roar they jumped and immediately stood.

It was a dragon's.

And an even more frightening sound made them tumble to the rope they had placed for transportation: rocks breaking apart, and a whooshing noise they instinctively knew it was dragon fire.

"Help!" called out Bofur loudly, but there seemed to be no one on the other side of the rope. "Smaug is coming here! Lift me up!" He offered the rope to Bombur, who shook his head, and instead tied it around his waist quickly. The roars of the dragon became louder and wilder, and a faint sizzling sound could now be heard. Its footsteps echoed about the valley, and Bombur let out an involuntary whimper of fear.

"Help!" called out Bofur once again, now looking even more afraid than when he had been cornered by spiders. The dragon's clamor became louder by the second, and even Bofur whined as he tried to hold on to the cliff walls to ascend, but only made it six steps before falling again. "Help!" And when the shape of the dragon came out of the caves, all both of the brothers could do was widen their eyes and fear for their lives.

I apologize for the late update, I've been a bit busy. I would like to thank all those who reviewed, faved and followed. Out of interest, I would like you to answer this question: Which dwarf do you want to see more? Who have I been neglecting the most that you care about?