I do not own any of the characters or the Hobbit (just the AU storyline and my OC) those are the work of the esteemed and brilliant John Ronald Reull Tolkien, and without his genius, this and many other fan fics would not be in existence.

Please review! I love getting them-they keep me encouraged! J

The warm fire crackled, and Kili was very glad of its warmth. He huddled under Thorin's large coat, shivering as he rubbed his hands, trying to bring circulation back into them. Fili had gone back upstream with Ori to retrieve the items that had been left behind in the rush. Kili looked across the fire at Cirashala, who was huddled under Bilbo's blanket, nibbling slowly at the food the hobbit had given her. She was still shivering badly, and her hands shook as she brought the dried meat to her mouth.

He could not believe that she had been willing to sacrifice food so they could leave Rivendell unnoticed. More than that, he couldn't believe that Bilbo had been the first one to offer her food, especially after the hobbit's complaints that first week about lack of regular meals. He suspected that, if it weren't for most of the company fearing Thorin's wrath, many of them would have been willing to pull some food out of their packs for the girl. Being dwarves, they understood all too well the value of food.

Having been driven out of Erebor, many of them had starved and died that first winter. That was common knowledge even amongst men, because the dwarves had at first tried to enter their settlements looking for food and work. But what few knew it seemed was that the hunger persisted long after Erebor was lost.

During the times they traveled between the cities of men, many dwarves had been forced to take up the bow, a weapon often scorned by dwarves because of its roots with the elves, in order to hunt and provide meat for their families. While Kili loved the bow with a passion, many dwarves, Thorin included, only learned how to shoot out of sheer need. For it was either that, or they would go hungry.

They often did not have the chance to set traps, being on the move as they were. When they did find settlements of men, they were often scorned or turned away as "homeless beggars". A once mighty people they had been, but the loss of their home with naught but the clothes on their backs and a few weapons had reduced them to mere blacksmiths and toymakers. A handful mined, but it wasn't the joyful mining of precious metals. Rather, it was the mining of coal for their forges.

Kili could remember many a time where Thorin and his mother had not eaten so that he and Fili could. Thorin was often held late at the forge, putting in long hours in desperation to feed his family. The incident with the greedy, prejudiced man in Bree was a testament to how far he would be willing to go to make sure his family was fed.

In later years, as they grew old enough, Fili and then Kili would help out at his uncle's forge, learning the craft while putting food on the table. It had been very long days, between lessons, weapons training, and forge work, and they had often near collapsed on their bed by the time the day was done, thoroughly exhausted. But, by that time the dwarves had become settled in Ered Luin, and slowly their reputation spread as skilled smiths and toymakers, and they finally (with the help of their distant cousin, Gloin, who was a well to do merchant) had accumulated enough to finance their quest.

The unfortunate loss of that stupid pack pony (Kili refused to call it by its given name, Buttercup, after that incident) had washed half their stores away, which had been a fairly decent blow, given that they had just crossed the rushing Bruinen, still heavily swollen from the winter snowmelt. After he and Fili had nearly drowned trying to save that stupid pony (Kili's hands had caught in the reins and the blasted thing had drug him under), they managed to find about half their stores washed up on shore.

Kili and Fili had indeed nearly drowned (Kili more so, since he had been stuck underwater longer), and their less durable stores had been too soaked to salvage. Thankfully, the cram and some of the dried meat had still been good. Kili highly doubted that even a dragon could manage to destroy cram, as hard and bland as it was.

So, to sit here and listen as she explained that, not only did she not have food, but it was for them and their quest that she didn't, and to see the hobbit so generously give her a portion of his, was astounding. Especially since Bilbo's bread had been freshly baked when Nori had acquired it late last night. The hobbit had savored the smell, eating a portion before stowing the rest, and had declared loudly that it was far better than cram could ever hope to be, even if it became stale.

Kili glanced over at the hobbit, who was making a rather comical face as he tried to chew the tough biscuits. He smiled warmly at the frustrated hobbit, who rather resembled a dog chewing on a tough bone at the moment. He had suspected the hobbit to be worth more than he looked back when he first laid eyes on him in the Shire, and Gandalf had seemed to trust him. Whether or not the hobbit was in fact a burglar remained to be seen (Kili doubted it after the troll incident). However, the hobbit had shown himself to be kind and caring toward others.

Except when said "others" are a throng of dwarves raiding his pantry, Kili thought with a chuckle as Bilbo finally broke a piece off and swallowed it with a slight grimace.

XXX

Fili and Ori returned with the missing possessions, namely Kili's coat, his weapons, his pack, and Cirashala's weapons and pack. Fili handed his brother his belongings, while Ori went over to Cirashala.

"Miss Cirashala?" he asked quietly, and when she looked up, he held out her weapons and pack to her. She accepted them gratefully, but the wince was not lost on Ori. His eyes widened as he saw spots of blood on the wounded side of her wet tunic.

"Mister Oin?" he cried turning toward the healer. Oin lifted his ear trumpet to his right ear.

"Aye, lad?" Oin asked, leaning forward and turning his head slightly so the mouth of his trumpet was in the scribe's direction.

"There's blood on Miss Cirashala's tunic. I think her wound reopened," Ori's words cause the healer to rise quickly and grab his bag, and several pairs of eyes turned toward the shivering girl. Kili looked at her side, and his brow furrowed with concern. There was indeed a red patch on her tunic, and it was slowly getting bigger. She looked toward Ori, before looking back at the healer as he approached her.

"Move aside, lads," Oin ordered loudly, and Bofur retracted his legs out of the way so as to not trip the older healer while Bombur stepped aside, having been standing next to the fire roasting a sausage on a stick.

The healer knelt down by her, instructing her to turn her left side towards him. Cirashala obeyed the command hesitantly.

"I-I am sure it's nothing, Mister Oin," she stammered a bit, sending a fearful glance toward Thorin. The healer raised his eyebrows at her.

"Your wound is five days old, lass," he replied sternly. "Fresh blood is not nothing." She ducked her head and picked at a piece of bark on the old log she was sitting on, biting her lip. The healer poked her wound a bit, causing her to wince, before sighing loudly.

"I am going to need you to take off your tunic, lass," he stated matter of factly. Her eyes widened and she glanced toward the company with a look of horror. Nearly all the members of the company shuffled uncomfortably in their seats, and a few coughed awkwardly as their eyes averted.

"N-now?!" she squeaked, turning back toward the unfazed healer.

"Aye. You have lost enough blood already lass. Don't need you losing any more," he replied. He grabbed a roll of bandages, before glancing over his shoulder and clearing his throat loudly.

"All right there, you lot. Bugger off for a bit and give the lady some privacy," he shouted at the company. "I know it's been a long journey and all, but there's no need to gawk at the poor girl!"

The company scurried up very quickly, and a few dwarves muttered under their breath, not happy with leaving the fire. However, when he was in the mindset of healer, Oin was a force to be reckoned with if anyone dared to question him. Additionally, despite several of them still not quite sure about the girl, they were respectful enough to give her the privacy she needed.

"What about my sausages? They will burn," Bombur lamented loudly. Oin shot him a glare.

"They're cooked enough, so take them with you!" he growled. Bombur hastily grabbed the sizzling meat and scampered off.

"Oin," Thorin's voice caused the healer to look up. Cirashala froze and glanced up at the dwarf king's stern visage.

"Aye, my lord?" he replied, nodding his head. "I trust you are not hoping to be the exception to the rule. You may be my king, but I am a healer, and this is my patient." The healer glared at Thorin. The king shook his head, before gesturing over his shoulder at the retreating forms of his nephews.

"Kili is still very cold, and needs to remain near the fire," he said, locking eyes with the healer. "I will not have him become ill." Oin nodded in agreement.

"Aye. No offense, my lord, but he can be a right pain if he catches ill," the healer agreed, sighing. Thorin bit back a chuckle. A sick and miserable Kili would make everyone around him miserable and annoyed in short order. He wouldn't follow healer's orders, and they would practically have to tie him to the bed to keep him from overdoing it every time. Then he would sit or lie there and whine and complain, and anyone within earshot would seriously entertain the thought of warg hunting just to give themselves some peace, and keep them from killing their patient at the same time.

"Alright, he can stay, but only if he turns around," the healer declared, loud enough for Kili to hear. "It would be improper should he stare, even out of curiosity." Kili stopped, and nodded at Fili. He looked to Thorin, who directed him to a spot opposite the fire from the healer. Kili sat with his back turned fully toward Oin and Cirashala, looking toward the direction that the company had gone.

Thorin nodded at the healer, before heading into the surrounding trees toward the company. Before he was out of earshot, Cirashala spoke up.

"Mister Oin?" she ventured loudly as she began to unlace her tunic.

"Aye, lass?" he asked her, glancing up from his open bag.

"Lo-the elves gave me some bandages and salve for my wound," she replied, handing her bag to the healer. "Please don't dwindle your supplies on my account. The company may have need of them later." The healer paused for a moment and sighed, nodding before placing his items back in his bag.

"Alright lass," he replied, his face twisting slightly in disgust. "I would rather not use elven healing methods, but you have a point. I would rather keep my supplies on me as long as I can, since I am never sure when I will find herbs to replace what I have used." She nodded, rifling through her pack a bit before producing the bandages and jar of salve.

She finished unlacing her tunic, and, pulling her left arm out exposing her wound, allowed the healer to begin his work.

XXX

Kili sat on his side of the fire nervously. He was rather frustrated at his uncle for insisting that he stay near the fire, but at the same time the heat from it felt very good against his still shivering frame. He could hear the slight whimpers that emitted from the girl, and barely refrained from turning his head as he heard the healer curse under his breath.

"Mahal, lass. You've gone and torn half your stitches open!" the healer growled. Kili heard a muttered apology, and could hear the pain lacing her voice.

"Did the elves give you anything for the pain?" Oin asked.

"Yes," she replied. "There are some herbs in my pack that are supposed to be mixed with water to make a tea." The healer grunted, and Kili could hear some shuffling. He looked down to his side as a tin cup, then a larger pot, clattered on the rock beside him.

"Cover yourself up, lass," Oin ordered. There was a pause. Kili stared at the cup and pot, brow furrowing in confusion. Surely Oin wasn't suggesting—

"Kili! Go fetch some water from the stream and set it by the fire to warm," Oin ordered. Kili's eyes widened.

"B-but Mister Oin!" he protested. "Y-you told me to stay turned around!" The healer let out an exasperated sigh.

"Aye, I did. But I need warm water, and at the moment I cannot stop stitching," the healer snapped. "Get to it already!" Kili swallowed, cheeks reddening in embarrassment as he slipped Thorin's coat off and donned his own. He grabbed the bowl and the cup and hastened toward the stream, looking away from the two as he walked.

He filled up the cup and bowl, and headed back toward the fire. He set them by the crackling flames on a rock, close enough to warm, but not so close as to burn one's hands when grabbed. Heading back toward his seat, he went to grab Thorin's coat, but saw his quiver and thought better of it. He donned his quiver, and set the large coat on his lap. Holding his bow and an arrow loosely in his hands, he settled down, eyes scanning the area visible to him for any threats.

After all the blood he had seen pass from her on the plain, he didn't think he could stand another reminder about what happened. He wasn't a healer, although he had been trained just a little bit. It was essential for all warriors to know how to aid their fallen comrades before the healers could reach them, and also to know some of the healing herbs found in the forest.

He couldn't assist Oin in the way that the healer would need. However, he could at least make sure the healer and his patient were protected during the task.

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So, sorry for a shorter chapter, but it seemed a good place to end the "impromptu camping" sequence. I know it has been about four chapters dealing with the same morning, so hopefully next chapter we can start to move a bit faster on the journey.

Big thanks to and those who took the ridiculous amount of time to take great shots of the scenery as the dwarves march toward the Misty Mountains. I saw a river amongst the pines, and it gave me the idea for this mini-arc. It has also proven helpful for a few ideas later on, since I believe the stone giant sequence to have happened as they neared the eastern edge of the mountains, and given what I have seen on Tolkien's middle earth map, it seems to be a good fifty miles (as the raven flies) to cross them, made undoubtedly longer by the winding the company would have to take. So I am estimating 70 miles to cross the mountains (possibly about 66 or so to Goblintown).

Big thanks to those who have read and reviewed, favorite and followed. You guys make my day! J