And here's the third chapter. Finally figured out were they were (thanks to Tweetzone86). Enjoy. :)

Chapter 3: Pursued

Running away, it felt cowardly to say the least. But it did not even make the top ten list of horrific things he had done in the past few days that he had sworn never to do again. Still, if it was between running and being caught by the orcs again, Fili knew there was a clear winner. The act of cowardice would win every single time.

Funny, he would have never run before. But then he hadn't known what he did now. He could only hope the other dwarves would hold their own and that he and Kili could just keep running. Looking over at his brother, and feeling his own intense pain, the blonde knew it would take everything they had, even with two of the company supporting them on either side. And if an orc broke past the defence, then they would most likely die in the process, unable to defend themselves. He might even collapse before then, his probably bruised, if not broken ribs causing his breathing all sorts of grief.

Thorin inhaled deeply before reopening his eyes and swinging his sword into the thick skull of a warg hindered by Bifur's spear logged in its foot. Both weapons were pulled loose the second the creature stopped twitching.

"Good riddance," he muttered before turning to meet another poorly armoured orc racing towards him.

The two dove at each other, quickly becoming a swamp of flesh as they dogged blows and parried sword strokes with vastly differing abilities. It was clear that Thorin was far superior in his swordsmanship than the orc for it was not long before the head of his opponent came to a sickening halt at the feet of a warg. The beast gave it a passing glance of consideration before sweeping it up into its salivating maw and chomping down a few times before swallowing. This did not seem to concern its rider, who was busy fighting off the fury that was Dwalin.

Thorin began to feel his own rage burn through him and soon he was seeing the red of his anger, the battle, and his enemies' blood all mingled together as one hue of scarlet. They had hurt his boys and by the gods he would make them pay. Nothing would be able to hold him back and he swarmed forward, heading straight for another orc.

The vile being tried to duck the blow, but couldn't quite manage in time. Thorin's sword ran it right through the heart, the dwarf wielding the blade twisting it so that the orc could feel the maximum impact. The orc did not die straight away though, and it grasped the sword protruding from its body, stopping Thorin from pulling his weapon back out as it stumbled backwards. Thorin was dragged with him, using all his might to pull back against the force. In the end he had to make a giant upper cut, cleaving the top half of his opponent completely in half, and not a moment too soon for the maimed body fell backwards over the edge of the cliff, hurtling into the blurry scenes beneath.

Thorin had forgotten they were fighting on a mountainside. Thankfully they were still low enough to be on a relatively large section of ground and not higher up where there were only narrow paths.

Damn, he thought, that was too close. He couldn't afford to lose himself like that again or to let his guard down.

Retreating back to safer ground, the exiled king joined in the fighting again. He and Dwalin teamed up like they had back in the old days to wreak an unstoppable havoc on the bastards that had caught his nephews. Blow after blow was dealt, him sometimes disabling the orcs to allow the others to kill them, him sometimes finishing them off himself. The wargs had stopped flowing through, but the footmen had not and there was more than enough to go round and sate each company member's hunger for the beings' blood.

The dark haired royal was a living nightmare to all who faced him, on the edge of going berserk, but not yet quite there. Even Oin and Balin took a grim delight in the deaths of their foes, caving in the skulls of every orc within the reach of their deadly weapons. Thorin smiled darkly at this. The orcs deserved everything they got.

They had thought they were safe, he remembered, they had let their guards down a moment in their youth, and now they had experienced who knows what at the hands of these…these… Thorin couldn't even find the words to describe them. He could tell by the way the others were shredding the enemy to pieces that they thought the same thing.

There was only one problem, however, in all of this. With all the strength their rage and determination gave them, the orcs just kept coming. There was no stopping them and as Thorin cut through their ranks with ever tiring arms, he realised that the stand-off was about to become a suicide mission.

"Fall back," he yelled to the others, sword still raised as he fended off blow after blow that followed his retreating steps. The others followed suit, Dwalin being pulled back by his older and wiser brother.

A quick glance proved that non had sustained any serious injury, yet if they continued to exchange blows there was no doubt they would. They were a force of eight against an army of tens, may even more than mere tens. They could continue this at another date. Turning, they sheathed their bulkier arms and began to run, having bought enough time for the others.

This was the first time that the six escaped company had crossed his mind and Thorin swore as he looked down, recognising the footprints of foes upon the ground below.

"Hurry!" he yelled, "For it seems we did not stop them all."

Fili could no longer keep running, having spent all his energy reserves a long while back. Glancing over at his brother, he could seem the same exhaustion etched onto the brunette's face.

"Stop," he said, "I cannot go any further." He allowed his feet to drag, trying to take the weight of his much abused legs.

"We cannot stop though," Ori said with more than a little fear, "Our orders were to get as far as we possibly could away from the fighting."

"And we have," Fili argued back, his face pale and sweating more than it normally would, "But if we go any further, there is no doubt that I will collapse."

""Please," Kili wheezed brokenly, "Can we not stop for just a moment?" To both their dismay Bofur shook his head.

"Sorry lads, but we can't and you know why," the toymaker told them, "We need to keep moving. But we will rest soon."

To Fili this was not good enough. He could scarcely breath and was wheezing just as bad as his brother, if not worse. Every part of him ached and his chest felt as if it had been set on fire and then made to burn at the temperature of a furnace.

"Please," he heard his brother beg again, the archer trying to pull short but being dragged on by both Bofur and Bilbo, their feet flying as if they had sprouted wings. This did no good for Kili promptly fell to the ground in a dead faint straight after. The other five halted in their fleeing.

"This is not the time," the blonde heard Bofur mutter, "So not the time. Come on lad, wake up! None of us can carry you." That much was true. Their strongest dwarves were with Thorin, both Bifur and Dwalin being needed to help fight. Bombur could carry him, but he was having a hard enough time carrying his voluminous weight while running as it was. Bofur could do the same, but being the only real, uninjured warrior among them, he was needed unburdened if they came across any danger.

Fili took the change to slide down to the ground, his own shaky legs no longer able to support him as he watched the others try to figure out what to do. They could not leave Kili there, they would not allow it, but they also could not continue on without finding a way to carrying the oblivious dwarf while allowing Bofur to be free to fight and at least two others to help keep himself going. It was a task with no plausible solution, at least one that did not compromise one or more of the needed factors. The others did show an signs of noticing what he had done besides a quick glance to see if he had collapsed like his brother for they were all buried deep in a debate.

The golden haired prince looked over to Kili, grimacing at the injuries, guilt flooding him once again. He forced himself to look at the young dwarf's face, which appeared to be pale and clamming, probably mimicking his own. His body seemed to be positioned awkwardly, whether it was due to the fall or the fact that he was in pain, Fili did not know, but he did not linger on the fact as he laid eyes on the blood pooling around his brother.

All kinds of anxiety hit him as he watched the scarlet liquid continue to leak from more than several of his brother's reopened wounds. He could feel the same substance trickling down his own hot skin, but ignored it at the pool surrounding the brunette grew larger and larger.

"Bofur!" he cried sharply, gesturing to his brother, "You have got to stop the bleeding!" The dwarf's reaction was like none Fili had ever seen before.

The toymaker and his brother swarmed upon his unconscious brother like vultures swarmed a dead body. Their jackets were already shed as they ripped strips of fabric from both them and the ruins of his brother's tunic and hurriedly bandaged the worst of the wounds. The blonde felt the hobbit and Ori crouch down beside him and he turned to meet their gaze.

"You're bleeding too," Bilbo pointed out. Like he didn't know that already, but he held his tongue, if only out of worry and guilt for his brother's condition, and his own sorry state. Instead, he allowed the worst of his wounds to be bandaged as well, wincing as the cool mountain air bit at his now bare torso and a bout of light headedness took him. None of them realised the several rabid wargs that were currently stalking them, driven into a frenzy by the scent of the vast amounts of fresh blood.

The first of the beasts had jumped, missing Fili a mere finger's breadth and landing in a graceful pose on the other side of him. At the sound of the growling, both Bofur and Bombur turned, drawing their weapons and standing their ground in front of the injured Kili. Bilbo too drew his sword, Ori next to him with his slingshot at the ready and a respectable hunting knife by his side. And then their other hidden foes revealed themselves.

Fili was frustrated as he watched his comrades fight the monsters which so obviously sought him and his brother's blood. They were outmatched, barely able to keep the animals away let alone get close enough to deal a killing blow. So when the rest of the company flew in for the save, Fili almost fainted with relief. He almost fainted point blank, crying out as the hobbit tripped over him, knocked backwards by the warg he had been fighting.

The few wargs which had presented so much of a problem for three armed dwarves and a hobbit fell to pieces against the full force of the rest of the company. It did not take long for each to be maimed beyond recognition, all hit with many differing killing blows.

He watched his uncle look around before sheathing his sword and barking a few fuzzy orders. He watched as Bifur stooped to retrieve his brother and blinked as Dwalin crouched down in front of him. The bald warrior said a few words that Fili struggled to comprehend and a few moments later, the blonde fainted into the dwarf's waiting arms.

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