A/N

Alright, I have given much thought about the pairing, and I have seem to have made up my mind (I hope). Though I will not yet share it with you, for it might change. So for now, all I will share, is the pairing will be ThorinxOCxFíli.

Why? Because both are equaly awesome! Kíli too, but he's not really a good match for Várar.

Anyway, thanks for the reviews you guys. I am glad I have you hanging on every word, sitting on the edge of your chair.

Torn

Fíli glares at the elves in front of him, as the guide them to wherever they are going to. They have been traveling all night, after being taken prison last night. With his weapons gone, he feels naked and he doesn't like it very much. His eyes find his younger brother, the same look of defeat on his face, as Kíli glares at the elves as well.

Fíli sighs. If he could only reach for his hidden blade, then he could cut the ropes and free them. But with his hands bonded in the front, it will be impossible to reach for his back unseen. Well, then he will have to wait for the right moment.

Behind him Fíli can hear Dwalin yell a train of curses out of frustration as they reach a bridge. Birds fly off, chattering loudly as the leader of the elves crosses the bridge firs, halting in front of what appears to be the entrance of a cave. His eyes shift to something below for a moment, before watching his prisoners cross the bridge along with his men.

As soon as Fíli crosses the bridge, he looks down, curious to see what that elf had seen. His eyes widen a little in fear, as he notices the wild water soaring down the river below. One wrong move, and he will fall down into the water, no doubt falling to his death.

As his eyes follow the river, he spots something laying at the riverbank in the distance. A female – elfling probably since she seems to be small, is relaxing as her feet are moving through the water.

'Keep moving, dwarf.'

Before Fíli can even take a better look at the peaceful child, he is pushes forward by an elf. As the are being lead to their cells, Fíli watches every one he passes, hoping to find his uncle. But Thorin is nowhere to be found.

Just as Fíli is about to be pushed into his cell, the elf behind him says something in his own language and pulls something from his coat. His hidden knife! Great, now he is completely stripped from his weapons. Fíli sighs in agitation as he is pushed into his cell.

All around him he can hear those pointy ears speak to each-other in their language as cell-doors are locked. His own comrades curse and yell, some in the common language, some in khuzdul. And is someone ponding against the doors?

'Forget it,' he hears Balin say from one of the other cells. 'There is no leaving this dungeon.'

Fíli sighs. That's it then? This is where their journey ends? No reclaiming of Erebor? Not while is uncle is missing. Not while they are held prison by these pointy ears. His blue eyes linger on the burning torch across his cell, before turning around to face the stone walls of his prison. He can't even see his brother, even though he is next to him. All there is to see, is three walls, and one door.

As Fíli lays down on his stone bed, he can hear the elves leave. After a while the noises of his comrades subside as well, as they probably have noticed their grim situation. The only sound Fíli can hear, is from the bald dwarf a few cells to his right, as Dwalin mutters darkly under his breath.

'Fíli? Fíli, are you awake?'

With a jolt Fíli wakes up as he hears a soft tapping on his left. He frowns, not even remembering to have fallen asleep. Then he turns to the wall where his brother is tapping.

'What is it Kíli?' he asks as he rubs his eyes, his voice equally soft as his brother.

'Can you hear that?'

Fíli concentrates for a moment, listening to whatever his younger brother is hearing, but he hears nothing. What should he even hear? The snoring of some of the dwarves? That's nothing new and probably not what Kíli means.

'Can I hear what?'

'Well, that. Someone's coming!'

Now that he mentions it, Fíli can indeed hear faint footsteps approach. Fíli glares at nothing in particular, before turning around to face the walls of his prison. The footsteps get louder, though still faint as the young dwarf-prince sits down, muttering under his breath.

'Great, what do they want from us now?'

The footsteps stop and he can hear the flames of a torch move, lighting his cell just a little. The elf must be standing in front of his cell, or maybe his brother's. Not that it would matter. He refuses to turn around and face this elf. He can handle one elf, armed or unarmed and judging by the footsteps he had heard, there is only one pointy eared scum down here.

'You dwarves cease to amaze me,' he hears the elf – female presumably, though it is hard to tell the difference between male and female – say, an amused undertone in her voice.

Fíli snorts as he lies down on his stone bed, his hands beneath his head. He will pay no heed to their visitor. Kíli on the other hand does, he can hear his brother move inside his own cell. There is a moment of silence, as the youngest prince makes his way to his door, assumingly facing the elf.

'And why do we amaze you?' Kíli asks, his voice dripping of venom, before he lets out a gasp of surprise.

The unexpected sound causes Fíli to sit up straight and turns to the elf in anger. Whatever she did to him, she will pay! But the only problem is, that it is not a tall elf he is seeing. Instead he sees a short figure standing in front of Kíli's cell. Short enough the be an elfling, had she not spoken with a voice of an adult.

'I always thought dwarves to be extremely ugly,' the stranger says as she moves her face closer to his brother's cell. 'At least that is what father always told me. Yet you are not as bad looking as he always made me believed you to be. In fact, you remind me of our other prisoner, Thorin.'

'Thorin? They have uncle in here as well, Kíli!'

The figure turns around at his outburst, now facing him and Fíli's glare turns into a look of surprise. Standing in front of him is definitely not an elf. With her freckled round face and bright blue eyes. Definitely not an elf!

'Your related to Thorin?' she asks surprised, not seeing any resemblance to the said dwarf.

Fíli is about to open his mouth, bit his brother beats him to it, earning the attention of the dwarrowdam. As Fíli makes his way over to the door, his head leaning against to bars to get a better view of the female, he listens as his brother talks to her.

'Listen, you're a dwarf, just like us,' Kíli begins, eyeing the female as well. 'Why are you even with these elves?' As Kíli almost hisses out the word elves, the female crosses her arms, arching an eyebrow at him. 'You should be on our side.'

'I do not side with criminals,' the female replies as she glances down the dungeon, eyeing each prisoner. Fíli glares at her, so much for their chance of escaping then. 'Nor do I agree with my father for taking innocent travellers as prisoners.'

Or maybe not? Fíli scans the female, trying to figure her out. Who's side is she on? Does she see them as criminals, or as innocent travellers? Why can he not figure out this female? And why is she constantly looking around? Is she... Nervous? Scared even?

Suddenly her head perks up at a door slamming in the distance and she turns around to grab he torch from the holder. Footsteps are approaching, at least two to three sets of footsteps, from what Fíli can tell. Why would those elves scare her, when she is clearly living with them?

'I better go, before father finds out I was down here,' she says with a smile, her eyes showing a hint of mischief as she turns to leave.

So she isn't scared to be down here. Only nervous to be caught.

'Wait!' Fíli calls out for her. He can't help himself. He just needs to know. 'Who are you?'

But it is too late. She is already leaving and he finds himself staring at her leaving form with a soft sigh. Her long fiery locks moving with every step she takes, until she disappears from his sight. Now that was something quite unexpected.

As Várar stays alert for any sounds, she quickly makes her way over to the armoury. She wants to know about dwarves. She needs to know more about them. Especially since her father has not told her the complete truth. She can see that now, now that she has met Thorin. Perhaps his own judgement of dwarves have let him to tell her only the bad things.

True, dwarves are no elves. Várar has known that ever since Gandalf the Grey had told he about her true identity. It had made her insecure about herself for a long time. For her father had always told her dwarves to be ugly creatures and with her being a dwarf... Well that would make her ugly too. That is what she had believed for five years. Not wanting to believe her father telling her otherwise, nor Legolas. Finding it to be their duty to say such things.

No, it had been Tauriel, who had followed her one night. In the light of the moon, the two talked. Their real conversation ever, for Tauriel never knew how to talk to her back then. Not when Várar was just a child and not when she grew older. Somehow the she-elf always tried to avoid her.

But not that night. That night Tauriel had told her about how she had found her mother. How she was in charge of her mother until she was fit enough to travel again. Tauriel had smiled as she told Várar about the day she was born.

'I had never seen anything more beautiful than that small infant I had in my arms,' Tauriel had said, smiling as she faced Várar. 'You were so innocent, so pure. And even though you may not be as innocent as the day you were born, you are still beautiful. Let no one else tell you anything different. It had been a privilege to have met your mother. And it has been a privilege to have seen you grow up into the beautiful dwarrowdam you are now.'

Várar smiles at the memory. From that day on, the two had gotten closer to each other, a friendship had formed, an unbreakable bond.

'Lady Várar, what are you doing here?'

Várar looks up in surprise, to meet the hazel eyes of Tauriel. By the looks of it, she had been inspecting the weapons of the dwarves, for the hammer she is holding in her hand is like nothing Várar has ever seen.

'Apparently the same as you,' Várar smiles as she moves over to the table. 'And please, don't use my title. We are friends, remember?'

Tauriel smirks as she nods, turning around to face the table as well. Várar lets her eyes travel across the table, inspecting each weapon. They are sorted in a strange way, perhaps by holder, not by category.

'Their weapons are quite different from ours, aren't they?'

Várar nods, agreeing with the tall red-head. She has never seen a hammer or an axe being used as a weapon. Though by the looks of it, it will cause some serious damage if handled by the right person.

Her eyes spot a slingshot and she chuckles. Apparently these dwarves aren't one of the most skilled warriors if that is their weapon of choice.

'Did these all belonged to one dwarf?' Várar asks as she notices a bunch of daggers and other weapons piled up at the end of the table.

'Yes,' Tauriel says, looking at the pile as well. 'They belonged to one of the younger dwarves. The one with a braided moustache.'

'The blond one?' Várar asks surprised. 'How could he carry all those around and still be able to move?'

This time Tauriel chuckles, moving over to Várar. She picks up a hooked dagger of some sort, inspecting it for a moment, before giving it to Várar with a smirk. Várar inspects it as well, swinging it around in her hand to test it.

'What?' Várar asks, as she places the weapon back with the others.

'How did you know it was the blond one I was referring to?' Tauriel asks, her smirk never fading. 'I thought king Thranduil had given you the order to stay away from them.'

'Well, I... I've seen them in the forest during the feast.' That wasn't actually a lie, but it's not the real reason why she had known of whom Tauriel was speaking of.

'You cannot fool me, Várar,' Tauriel says as she looks at the weapons again. 'I know you have been seeing that dark-haired dwarf, making your way down the dungeons. So why would these new dwarves be any different? Don't worry, I will not tell anyone about it.'

She glances at Várar, her smirk gone. Only to be replaced by a look of worry as she turns around to leave. But before she opens, she turns to Várar again, a small smile on her lips, though a fake one.

'Just be careful, Várar,' she warns. 'They might leave you torn with confusion.'

With that said, Tauriel leaves. Várar stares at the door for a moment, before turning her attention back to the weapons in front of her. Tauriel's warning is exactly what she is afraid of. Feeling torn. That is why she wants them out as soon as possible. But how?

'The others have been captured as well,' Várar states as she sits in front of the door.

'So I heard.'

Várar looks at him with one brow quirked and Thorin instandly knows he has made a mistake by saying that. Judging by the look the young dwarrowdam is giving him, he is not supose to know of the others. But luckily Várar doesn't say anything about it, only giving him a nod.

'One of them says you are his uncle. Though he doesn't really look like you. The darker-haired one seems to look much more like you. And he seems a lot nicer than the blonde one.'

Thorin chuckles a little. It appears Várar has already met his nephews. That must have been quite a sight for them. To see a young dwarrowdam of their age, dressed like an elf. There aren't many dwarrowdams back at Ered Luin. And even less of their age.

'Well, Fíli –the blond one – is my heir, seeing as I have no heir of my own. He has a lot more responsibilities than his brother – the nicer dark-haired one.' Thorin adds with a chuckle as he looks at he confused face.

'What king, or king to be, has no heirs of his own?' Várar asks curiously. 'I thought the darker-haired dwarf to be your son. He looks a lot like you. But those two are in fact brothers? Who would have guessed?'

Thorin nods. He does 't understand it either, how Fíli turned out blond, while the only other blond dwarf in his linage is Víli. But still, he is the next in line, after Thorin. And why are they having such a casual conversation, while he is behind bars? Should they not discuss his escape?

Suddenly Várar moves in closer, her previous fear for him long gone as her face is almost touching the iron bars. Her sudden movement startles Thorin a bit, but still he moves in as well.

'I know a way out for all of you,' she silently whispers. 'But you will need to have a little more patience.'

'I will have all the patience in the world, if that means you can get us out of here.' Thorin whispers softly, looking straight into he blue eyes.

His face only inches away from hers, her scent intoxicating as he looks at her. For Gefn he would do anything. He had waited for over one-hundred years for her. And seeing Várar, reminds him of Gefn.

Thorin can't help but smile a weak smile. This lass reminds him so much of Gefn. If he could just convince her to join him. But in the past days he has been held captive –according to Várar he has been here for ten days-, she has made it very clear she will not betray her father.

'In a few days it will be Mereth-en-Gilith,' Várar continues, her eyes shifting to the ceiling. 'The feast of Starlight. Everyone will be there, so there will be little to no guards around. It should be easy to get the keys unnoticed and free you all.'

Várar takes a step back again, inspecting the dwarf as he lets the information sink in. This is the best she could think of. Though one problem remains, they will have no weapons. But that will be of no concern to her. In a few days, the dwarves will be gone and everything will be as it should be. And she will be back to her old self and not torn between the elves and dwarves. At least, she hopes so...

But what if their paths crossed for a reason? What if she is suppose to leave her family behind to join Thorin? Had Gandalf meant for her to join Thorin on his quest to reclaim the mountain? Had the wizard planned for this meeting all along?

She finds herself looking at the taller dwarf, staring at him as she is struggling with herself. He seems kind enough. But what if this is all pretend, just to get out of here? What would he do to her if she was to join him? Father has warned her many times about dangerous folk. Is he dangerous? Judging by his muscled build, he is indeed a strong warrior, a real threat on the battlefield. But this is no battlefield and she is not his enemy.

Perhaps, she should consider his proposal and join the dwarves? She will have to leave the elves some day, right?

'Something is troubling you.'

'Hm?'

Várar looks at the dwarf in surprise. How does he know that?

'I can see it in your eyes, Várar,' Thorin says as he reaches out his hand to touch her face. 'Tell me what it is.'

But Várar shakes her head, sending him a weak smile. She just needs some air. She just need to leave and think things through. Várar whispers a quiet 'I'm sorry', before turning around and leave. But before she walks up the stairs, she glances over her shoulder, at a surprised Thorin.

'There is one member of your company missing,' she states. 'The one with the funny feet. I don't know where he is, but I have a feeling you do. Somehow he has been contacting you, informing you of things you should have now knowledge off. Tell him what I have told you about the feast.'

With that she leaves. Her hasty footsteps the only thing left to hear as she runs up the stairs. But Thorin doesn't hear her footsteps, as her voice keeps repeating in his head. She knows about Bilbo!

A/N

And that's it for today. I hope you liked it. Just let me know what you think of this chapter. And with that said, I say;

'Until next time, my dear readers!'