And I'm back again!

I felt so guilty for keeping you all waiting for so long and with those kind reviews to motivatie me, I've finished this chapter a lot sooner than planned.

So thank you for the motivating reviews and I hope I won't dissapoint you all with this chapter.

Counsel of a Dwarrowdam

Várar watches in despair as the orcs keep on coming. For every slain orc, two seem to replace it, yet she keeps on fighting. She will not leave her father's side, not with so many orcs trying to kill him!

So she moves Tálagor through the battlefield, taking every orc she sees down, while tryingto stay close to her father. Thranduil seems to have the same thought, for he doesn't let Várar out of his sight. More than once he has taken down an orc that tried to attack her from behind – the cowards. And more than once he had told her to withdraw, wanting her save behind the walls of Dale.

But now that a part of their enemy has taken over the ruins, he is glad to have her close to him. At least now he can protect her. If she had indeed listened to him, she would have had to face that army alone.

'Várar!' Thranduil suddenly cries out to the dwarrowdam, no longer seeing her next to him. 'Where are you going?'

Instead of heading over to the ruins of Dale, like he – and his army – is doing, Várar has turned Tálagor around. The red-head turns her head slightly, to face her father. A look of determination on her face as she answers.

'I'm going to help the dwarves,' is all she says, before taking off towards Erebor.

She has noticed how the dwarves are being slaughtered by the orcs. Though they are able to hold them off, they will not last much longer. They need a leader to help them. And they need one fast!

But she will not be the one to lead them. She beheads an orc, before looking at the mountain in front of her. No, she has no experience or what so ever to lead this army. But he does and he will!

'Fíli!' Várar calls out once she reaches Erebor. 'Kíli!'

She jumps off of Tálagor, taking the same path Bilbo had taken, halting in front of the wall. She notices two heads looking over the wall, then she hears a surprised dwarf call out her name. Then someone throws down a rope and Várar climbs up.

'What are you doing here?' Fíli asks in surprise as he reaches out his hand to pull her up.

'I'm going to have a word with Thorin,' she answers, taking his hand. 'He is needed down there. You're all needed down there.'

'Well, good luck with that,' Kíli says begrudgingly as he pulls up the rope again. 'He will listen to no one. Not even his own kin.'

Várar doesn't miss the look the two brothers exchange, but doesn't say anything. She can already tell by the look in their eyes how they feel about this whole situation. So instead she asks them to lead her to Thorin. She will talk to him and he will listen to what she has to say!

As Fíli leads the way, Várar takes in her surroundings. Colossal pillars support the halls as they walk trough them, lit by the golden light of torches. And even though the firedrake has left his mark – and not to mention his stench- Várar realises Erebor once had been a beautiful kingdom. A kingdom her mother had once lived in.

Her lips slowly turn into a soft smile as she follows Fíli. With every step she takes, she feels more and more drawn to this place. It's almost like the mountain is calling out to her. Like it wants her to come home. But it is impossible, Mirkwood is her home! Still she cannot and will not deny she likes it here.

Fíli doesn't miss the amazement in the dwarrowdam's eyes. Her blue eyes taking in everything as they make their way over to his uncle. And seeing the female next to him, makes him wonder what she feels right now.

For he too has never been here before, yet he has always been drawn to the mountain. But Fíli has always been surrounded by dwarves. Most of them have been here before and had always had a longing to return. So it is only natural for him and Kíli to be drawn to the Lonely Mountain.

But what about Várar. Her whole live she has been surrounded by forrest-loving elves. Not one dwarf to tell her stories of the great dwarven kingdom with a longing in their voice. But still, as he looks at Várar, it almost seems as if she's come home at last.

Her shoulders less tense then they had been not too long ago. Her blue eyes shining much brighter. Fíli must admit he finds Várar attractive. He has thought so from the first time they had met. And when he had seen her fighting out there – fighting a battle he should be fighting right now! – his admiration for the dwarrowdam has only grown even more.

In the distance loud voices are heard. Angry voices. Someone has angered his uncle again. Probably Balin or Dwalin, for those two seem to around Thorin the most. Trying to talk some sense into that stubborn head of his.

'I am your king!'

The sudden outburst makes Várar stop death in her tracks and Fíli can't blame her. He too is slightly frightened by Thorin. Thorin no longer is the level-headed leader Fíli had always admired. No, his uncle has become unpredictable and obsessed with his gold.

Suddenly Dwalin appears in front of them, looking disappointed. He mumbles under his breath, before he notices the two dwarves standing in front of him.

'It is no use trying to talk some sense into him,' Dwalin says sadly. 'And don't think he will be entirely pleased to see you, lass.'

'I don't care.' Várar looks at the warrior in front of him, noticing the defeated look in his eyes. 'It's that bad, is it.'

It's not even a question. From what she has seen and heard, Thorin has completely lost his mind. And all because of this dragon-sickness.

But it doesn't stop her. Instead, Várar takes in a deep breath and prepares to face the king under the mountain. She hears Fíli telling her to be careful, before she proceeds.

At first Várar can only hear angry mumbling, but then she can see Thorin pacing back and forth. The king under the mountain. Whatever argument he had with Dwalin, it has clearly agitated him. So much he doesn't even hear her walking over to him.

'Ahem,' Várar coughs to get his attention.

It works. But as soon as Thorin looks at her, she takes a step back. The glare he is giving her, makes her wish she was invisible. It sends chilly down her back, she even starts to shiver. What has happened to him? Not even when he had thought her to be an elf had he glared at her the way he does right now.

'What do you want,' he asks coldly. But then his glare turns into a look of surprise and he takes a step towards her. 'You have come back. You have come back to me!'

At first it had come out as a whisper, but then he quickly walks over to her a look of disbelieve still on his face. She has come back to him! He had given up hope, yet here she is. Standing here before him, as beautiful as alway.

He slowly reaches out his hand, afraid he is imagining things. But when his hand comes in contact with her soft skin, he smiles brightly. She's here! She is really here!

'We did it,' Thorin says softly, his hand still on her cheek. 'We finally did it, my love!'

'Love?'

Várar looks at Thorin in confusion as he is caressing her cheek with his thumb.

'After all those years, Erebor is ours again!' Thorin continues, as he comes even closer. 'Smaug is defeated. That filth has been defeated!'

'Thorin, you-you have to listen to me,' Várar begins, feeling flustered by his behaviour. 'You are needed at the battlefield. The dwarves... The dwarves need your g-guidance.'

Várar takes a step back. What is going on? Why is he behaving like this? How can she convince him to fight, if he is making her so uncomfortable? But with every step Várar takes, Thorin takes one long step closer. His royal robes rustling with every step he takes.

His hand no longer resting on her cheek, but now on her chin, gently forcing her to look at him. And his face is dangerously close to her own, making her even more uncomfortable. Never before has she been this close to a male. Only her father and brother and neither had made her uncomfortable like Thorin is doing right now.

She looks into his dark blue eyes, trying to figure out what is going on. Wanting to read them. But the only thing she can find in his eyes is love and admiration.

'Thorin...'

'Shh,' he interrupts, a gentle smile on his face. 'Do not fear, my love. No harm will come to us.'

'W-why do you keep on calling me your love?'

Várar can feel the wall against her back, preventing her to back away anymore. But that doesn't stop Thorin from closing in on her. He chuckles as their bodies are almost touching now.

'After all those years, you still don't know, Gefn?'

Gefn! Of course! Thorin thinks she is Gefn – her mother! But before she can say anything, Thorin closes the gap between them, pressing his lips against hers. Her eyes widen in shock, her body no longer cooperating. And though the kiss only last for a few seconds, it leaves her speechless.

'You have no idea how long I have longed to do that,' Thorin whispers as he places his forehead against hers.

'Thorin, I'm not- I'm not...'

But nothing else comes out of her mouth. She silently stares at Thorin, as he looks back at her. Still those emotions in his eyes. His beautiful blue eyes. Wait, where did that come from? She looks away from his intense stare, needing to get her thoughts in order.

Still, she has to admit he has beautiful eyes. A dark blue colour, like the midnight sky. The same colour as Fíli, the same kindness in them.

'Thorin, you have to listen to me,' she tries again. 'There is an war going on outside and your people need you.'

'They will gladly die if that means to keep their king and queen save.'

Queen? How deep do his feelings for her mother run? But if he is so focussed on her, thinking her to be her mother, then how can she reach him? If only she could tell him she isn't her mother. Then again, even if she could tell him, Thorin wouldn't hear her.

Suddenly a thought crosses her mind and Várar looks back at Thorin.

'Thorin, look at where we are standing right now,' she begins, taking his hands in her smaller ones. 'We made it through it all. Erebor is ours again.'

'Indeed it is,' Thorin agrees, leaning in again.

'But it won't be like that for long,' Várar continues, as she tries to hold him back. 'There is an army out there, that is trying to take over our kingdom. Dain and his men are trying to hold them back, but they need a leader. They need their king.'

Várar stops for a moment, seeing if Thorin is listening to her now. She doesn't like lying, nor does she like it to pretend to be someone else. But if she can get through to Thorin, by pretending she's her mother, she will put aside her pride.

Even if that means she has to kiss him again.

She finds her eyes travel down to his lips. Maybe she wouldn't even mind. The feeling of the scruff of his beard brushing against her skin had been a...pleasant feeling

'Dain can handle it, my love.'

'No, he can't! He and his man need you at their side. As their guide, their inspiration.'

Thorin looks at her in shock. So it seems her words are coming through! A small smile of victory plays at her lips, but she tries to hide it. Though she has his attention now, Várar still has to convince Thorin to fight this war.

'You have prepared yourself your whole live to reclaim Erebor – look at me Thorin – Do you plan on throwing it all away, just because you are afraid?'

'I'm not afraid!' he growls dangerously, his hands gripping her arms tightly.

'Then why are you not out there, helping your kin?'

Thorin glares at her, but doesn't say anything. She can tell by the way his hands are still clutching her – hurting her – Thorin is fighting an inner battle. His eyes soften for a moment, as he looks down. But only for a moment. Then his glare returns again.

Still, that fleeting moment of softness in his eyes is reason enough for Várar to continue. She is starting to get through to him. Well, Gefn is starting to get through to him.

'My dear Thorin. You have worked so hard to reach your goal. Don't let anyone take that away.'

Thorin looks up in shock as her soft hand is placed on his rough cheek. Her thumb caressing his skin gently. He has missed her so much. He had even forgotten how it felt to feel her touch on his skin. Though he can't remember her demanding demeanour, nor that she had ever pushed his buttons. But she sure knows what to say.

'You are their inspiration, Thorin. They need you.'

'Well?'

'How did it go?'

'Give him some time,' Várar says as she continues on walking. 'I think I might have gotten through.'

Fíli watches in amazement as the dwarrowdam throws down a rope and climbs over the rampart. With one look over her shoulder, she birds them farewell, before climbing down again.

Every time he sees her, she amazes him again. Proving once again she is no ordinary dwarrowdam. Fíli walks closer to the edge, looking over it. As she makes her way over to the other side, she glances back for a moment. Almost like she hesitates to continue. But then she continues, mounting her pony and takes off.

'Do you really think Thorin will snap out of it?' Kíli asks as he takes place next to his brother.

'Perhaps,' Fíli answers as he turns around. 'Sometimes the counsel of a woman can do more than one-hundred men.'

Though Fíli knows it doesn't take any woman. Just one special one. And in his uncle's case, one special auburn-haired dwarrowdam.

Fíli clenches his fist as he can still see his uncle kissing Várar. He had wanted to make sure Thorin would do her no harm. So he had stayed behind, lingering in the shadows. Watching as Várar had attempted to talk to the king, without success.

Fíli had wanted to interrupt, wanting to protect Várar as the young dwarrowdam had slowly backed away from his uncle. But the look in Várar's eyes, just before Thorin kissed her, made him stop in his tracks. And from there Thorin appeared to be listening to her, so Fíli had walked back to the others. A strange feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He had wanted to punch Thorin. He still feels like he wants to punch Thorin. But why? Is it because of his lack of leadership? Or perhaps to see if he can get his uncle to snap out of it? Or is it something else entirely?

His eyes find Várar without much effort. Her hair the first thing he notices as she guides her pony - which also has a red coat Fíli notices, causing him to smile slightly - back to Dale. Taking down as many orcs as she can.

And again the young prince has that strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. But why? It's not like he has never seen a warrior take down an orc. She may be the first dwarrowdam he has ever encountered to be as capable on the battlefield as she is. But that's what she is. A fierce warrior, who happens to be a female. And a beautiful one a too.

'They are losing the battle,' Bofur says, causing Fíli to look away from Várar.

'Aye,' Gloin agrees sadly. 'Dain and his men are retreating.'

Fíli notices it too. Why is he not out there? Even Várar and her people are fighting a battle that isn't even theirs. And all Fíli can do is sit here and wait for his king to give the order.

But it won't come. Not while his mind is clouded by the dragon-sickness. Not unless Várar has been able to snap him out of it. And even if Thorin can snap out of it, the question remains what will happen. Or if it will happen in time.

With one last look at the battlefield, Fíli climbs down. He can no longer watch, while innocent people die, fighting for a king who doesn't care about them.

Fíli isn't the only one. Soon the others follow, the same gloomy expression on their faces. It's sad to see this company so crestfallen. After all they have been through together. All the perils they have faced. And this is how their journey ends. Trapped inside the mountain, ordered to stay put by their own king.

This isn't how Fíli imagined to die. Not this young, not like this.

Oh yes, he is going to die. He, and all of his comrades. They will all die in here, like cowards. Fíli throws his sword to the ground in frustration. He is no coward. If he is to die by the enemy's hand, he wants to die fighting! Not waiting for the enemy to knock in his door, while he pretends he's not at home!

Someone cries out in pain and Fíli turns to the barricade. Even the pile of rocks can't dim the cries of battle and it makes Fíli even more desperate to fight out there.

'I will not hide behind a wall of stone, while others fight our battles for us!'

At the sudden outburst of his younger brother, Fíli turns around. He is shocked to find his uncle walking towards them, his sword drawn. But it isn't the dwarf sword that surprises him. No, what surprises the young prince the most, is the fact that his uncle has stripped down to only a simple leather outfit.

Their king no longer wears his royal robes, nor does he wears his crown. Now, walking towards them, is just the plain looking Thorin. The Thorin Fíli had always looked up to.

But is he really back? Or has he decided they too form a treat to his precious gold?

'It is not in my blood, Thorin,' Kíli continues, approaching Thorin until he stops right in front of him.

'No, it is not,' Thorin agrees. No trace of the madness audible in his voice and Fíli's hope returns. 'We are sons of Durin. And Durin's folk do not flee from a fight.'

Thorin lays his hand on Kíli's shoulder, smiling at his nephew. Kíli smiles back at him through his tears as they touch foreheads. Perhaps all is not het lost.

'I have no right to ask this of you,' Thorin says as he turns to face the others. 'But will you follow me, one last time?'

And we have come to the end of this chapter again. Thorin has come back to his senses at last. But does he know it had been Várar and not Gefn? And what's up with Fíli? Why does he has that feeling? What is that feeling?

I hope you like the story thus far. I hope you liked the little moment between Várar and Thorin. Even though it didn't mean anything. You all have been so patient with me. And not to mention kind with your reviews. So I thought I could place this little scene somewhere in this chapter as a thanks.

Anyway feel free to review and until we meet again!