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

Thorin watched in horror as the giant's knee collided with the rock face, lingering there for a moment before pulling away. The remains of the path that had been adjacent to its knee crumbled as the massive giant tumbled into the valley below, smashing into the mountainside in its descent.

"NO!" he cried, rushing forward, not even caring anymore if he slipped or stumbled on the large rocks blocking his path. His only thought was for Fili, his young nephew and one of the three bright sparks of hope in his life, the other being Kili and their mother, his sister Dis. They were all he had left, and he would be damned by Melkor himself if he let anything happen to them.

My nephew! Mahal, my Fili! Oh, Mahal and Eru above, please….please let him be alive!

"NO! Fili, no!" Thorin rushed around the curve in the path, breathing heavily as his eyes rested on the scene in front of him, tears falling unashamedly down his bearded cheeks.

For, instead of the horrific carnage he expected, there his nephew was, along with the rest of their company, panting, bruised and battered, but completely, wonderfully, and blissfully alive.

XXX

Fili landed in a heap atop Dwalin, the burly warrior jumping in front of him as he flew backwards. The impact of the stone giant's knee on the overhang above had wrenched his grip, along with that of Cirashala, backwards with astonishing force.

Dwalin refused to allow the young dwarf to come to harm, a vow he had sworn 82 years before still in play now, though the lad was technically an adult.

He had been there the night Fili was born, along with a very agitated Thorin and the lad's father, and, despite not having any children himself, knew exactly what to do.

Fourteen ales apiece later, Thorin and the father-to-be were collapsed on the couch, snoring heavily and the worry gone from their faces. Dwalin, having been able to far outdrink anyone else in Thorin's Halls, was still fairly sober. Well, perhaps admittedly a bit tipsy, but definitely not as drunk as the other two were, not by a long shot.

He had just settled himself down in the armchair opposite the drooling "couple" snuggled together opposite him (something he never let Thorin live down), and was just about to light his pipe when Oin's assistant midwife came out of the birthing room, carrying an impossibly tiny bundle. She looked at the father of the little one, confusion clouding her face.

Dwalin, still in his amused state over his drinking victory, hadn't even noticed the screams had stopped, and stared dumbly as the healer approached him.

"Oin needs to finish attending the Lady Dis with the final stage of birth," the healer informed him, and rolled her eyes at the completely blank stare she earned in return. She sighed heavily.

"The afterbirth," she said simply. At the increasing bewilderment across the burly dwarf's face, a feature made rather comical by the intimidating tattoos and large mohawk he sported, the healer sighed in frustration.

"Suffice to say, the Lady Dis will not be presentable for another half hour at least," she said in annoyance, disliking the obvious ignorance radiating from the still silent dwarf. "And, as I am needed to assist, I was instructed to bring the babe out to meet his father while I return to aid Mister Oin."

She glanced with an unamused look at the new father, who had by now slumped over on top of the heavily snoring, open mouthed (and completely undignified) Thorin, who had wrapped an arm around his shoulders, both clearly unconscious. Raising an eyebrow, she turned toward the smirking dwarf, who was quite pleased at seeing his friend in such a position that would give him an excellent opportunity to tease him with later.

Dwalin had looked up in utter shock as the nurse shoved the wee babe in his scarred arms. Having a rather good sense of self preservation (meaning that he knew full well that Thorin and the babe's father wouldn't have anything left to kill by the time Dis was done with him. The young princess would KILL him, skin him, and feed him to a balrog, even if it took her an age to find one still living, should anything happen to the little one) he immediately cradled the tiny babe in his arms.

The midwife scowled as she manhandled the burly warrior's arms (and at this point, Dwalin was rather grateful that she did, because he had never held a wee one before) until the babe's head was safely tucked in the crook of his arm. The swaddled bundle's feet barely reached the end of the large warrior's hand, and the midwife had brought his right hand up to aid in cradling the impossibly tiny head.

"B-but, I don't know ANYTHING about children!" the warrior sputtered, but the midwife would have none of it.

"I am needed in there," she said simply, and turned around and left the room. He was about to protest again when he heard the birthing room door close, and knew without a doubt that if he were to intrude on Dis's privacy before she was ready for visitors, it would likely be considered an act of Treason by Thorin for disrespecting the princess.

He looked down at the wee bundle, seeing the tiny yet prominent nose which was definitely reminiscent of Thorin's, the thin eyebrows, the tiny fingernails (which were red underneath for reasons he would rather not ponder, and astonishingly sharp), and the small fuzzy tuft of golden hair atop its head just peeking out from the knitted cap it wore, matching the soft peach fuzz of its beard.

His beard, the warrior remembered. She had said she was bringing HIM out to meet HIS father.

He had stared in awe at the tiny bundle, and though he found the infant's face to be unusually red (but then again, while he didn't have nor desire children of his own, he was at least familiar with the knowledge of how they were made and how they came out, so he supposed that the child's redness was justified, although he couldn't figure out why they didn't bruise when the red faded, because that's what the redness reminded him of) he thought that he had never held anything more precious in his life, not even the gems and gold of Erebor. For all dwarves, whether they have or desire children or not, know that each child is the most precious thing their race could ever own.

He made a vow that night, known only to the tiny infant who wouldn't remember it and the burly warrior who swore it, and he never forgot that vow.

The vow he had made on that night so very long ago was at the forefront of his mind as he threw his body between the young heir and the stone face. He could fell Fili's body collide with his, and felt the sharp pain of landing on his back on the rock face radiate through his body. But it didn't matter.

For on that winter's night so long ago, he had sworn that no harm would ever come to the young heir-not if he was still alive and drawing breath.

XXX

Cirashala felt something soft underneath her. No, not soft, but definitely not cold, hard stone either. She could hear the rapid thump-thump of a heartbeat, and feel wet and cold fabric against her cheek. Strong arms enveloped her, and she could hardly breathe with the tight hold. She had some scrapes on her hands from the stone face, but she was breathing. She was alive.

Hearing Thorin's cry, she opened her eyes slowly. Blinking the rain out of her eyes, she went to sit up, but the arms holding her refused to release their hold. She looked up, feeling cool metal against her forehead, and saw Fili's mustache bead dangling next to her eyes.

Fili, she thought to herself. He-he must have gotten between me and….

Eyes widening as she realized he must have gotten between her and the stone, she darted up.

"Fili!" she yelled, looking down at him. "Are you all right? Please tell me you are alive!" The dwarf winced.

"You don't need to yell," he groaned. "You're screaming right into my ear!" She breathed a shuddery sigh of relief.

Thank goodness, she thought to herself. He wasn't killed on account of me.

She looked up seeing Thorin round the corner. She tallied off the dwarves she saw in her mind.

Fili, Bombur, Bofur, Ori….wait, where's Dwalin?

"Laddie, would you mind getting OFF?" a muffled voice growled from underneath the pair. "You're a lot heavier than you were as a wee babe!" Fili blushed to the roots of his hair at Dwalin's comment about him being a wee babe resounded in front of half the company, and scrambled off of the burly dwarf, who was sporting a heavily bleeding nose. The dwarves surrounding them chuckled at the young heir's expense, their relief at being alive obvious in their mirth.

The young heir released Cirashala, eyes roaming over her to make sure she was unhurt, and sighing in relief when she didn't appear to be so. She noticed his look, and raised an eyebrow.

"Paint a picture, it will last longer," she muttered, and he looked at her sheepishly.

"Sorry," he said. "I just wanted to make sure you were all right. You aren't injured, are you?" She shook her head, but couldn't say anything further as she and Bofur simultaneously remembered their hobbit companion.

"Bilbo!" she cried at the same time that Bofur asked where he was.

"Where is our hobbit?!" Cirashala immediately lunged towards the edge of the cliff, shoving Ori into the cliff side at the same time, remembering how the scribe had nearly fallen off the cliff in his attempts to reach the precariously dangling hobbit.

She managed to reach Bilbo just as he slipped, her hand grasping his wrist as he caught the ledge. Dwalin immediately lunged forward, grabbing her legs as she nearly tumbled off the cliff herself.

Bilbo cried out, and as Bofur and Ori called out his name, and Cirashala shouted before Thorin could jump off, realizing that, with Dwalin holding her, there was no one to catch Thorin, and he would fall to his death.

"Bilbo! Grab my wrist and I will pull you up!" she hollered, and the hobbit let go of the ledge, grasping her wrist tightly. "Thorin, don't move!"

The dwarf king looked at her in a mix of astonishment and annoyance, noting that she hadn't looked at him as she had spoken, and in his shock, he listened.

How did she know I was going to get him?

Dwalin pulled on her legs, and she gripped the hobbit's wrist as tightly as she could. Bilbo winced in pain from it, but gripped back, and between the three of them they managed to get the hobbit to safety. Bilbo sat on the ledge, panting heavily, and Thorin scowled.

"We nearly lost our burglar," Dwalin said, holding his still bleeding nose.

"He's been lost ever since he left home," Thorin said icily, the fear from the last ten minutes giving way to anger and frustration. "He never should have come. He has no place amongst us, and neither does the girl. This journey is too dangerous for those who are so soft and foolish."

XXX

The words cut through Bilbo's heart as he huddled next to Bofur, the miner having been one of those who had helped haul him up.

The hobbit, having felt quite useless enough without the added insult, was now more than resolved to take Lord Elrond up on his offer. Treasure be damned, he just wanted to go home. He was a Baggins, for goodness sake. He shouldn't be adventuring. He should be tending to his garden, preparing and canning the summer crops for winter, and reading by the fireside in his armchair. He wasn't built for this at all. A simple hobbit going up against a dragon? How the wizard had made such a mistake in choosing him of all people for this adventure was beyond him.

For that is what his inclusion was-a mistake. And Thorin knew it.

XXX

Cirashala heard the words of the dwarf king loud and clear. She didn't need to be told that her running off like she had out of embarrassment had been incredibly foolish.

What she resented in Thorin's statement (other than the part directed at Bilbo, which irritated her to no end) was the implication that she was soft. Hadn't she taken a bloody warg bite to protect his nephew? Hadn't she foregone food to keep Saruman from stopping them on their quest? Hadn't she fought tooth and nail to keep up every day, even though her body wanted nothing more to give up, both out of physical exhaustion and pain and her grief? Hadn't she slid down in a blizzard to find one of the members of the company that had fallen, and come up with a good solution to said blizzard in terms of shelter?

And worst of all, hadn't she shown him the utmost respect, even placing his quest above her own overwhelming grief?

Cirashala didn't know what it could possibly take for her to earn acceptance among those who seemed determined to be so stubborn and seemingly possessed hearts of stone. She had a feeling that, as long as she didn't have the dna of a dwarf man, there was no way that this cold hearted king-in-exile would ever be willing to respect her in return.

But I have to do what's right, she thought to herself. Even if those whom I am helping are completely ungrateful bastards. I cannot honestly say that everyone should be helped, regardless of who they are, if I do not keep my own word and advice. If Thorin chooses to be a cold hearted bastard, then he will be one. But I swore an oath, and I am no oathbreaker. Even if my king happens to be an idiot.

She stood up with her head held tall as Thorin called Dwalin in to investigate the cave they had found, not showing that his words had affected her. She entered the cave entrance and walked by the dwarf king, fixing him with a cold stare, her jaw fixed in determination as she passed.

If Thorin had even an inkling that she was stubborn before, he hadn't seen anything yet.

XXX

Bofur had heard the cruel barbs of his king against his friends, and wasn't too happy about it. All in all, he thought that the two of them had handled it quite well, especially Cirashala.

She didn't seem fazed at first, but as he caught a very brief glimpse of the cold stare she had directed at Thorin, his eyes widened. She had most definitely been affected, and the impression he got was a volcano dangerously close to exploding.

And somehow, he wasn't sure he wanted to be around when it finally did.

XXX

Kili had all but tackled Fili the second the rest of the company had gotten out of the way. He checked him over, eyes roaming up and down, until Fili had assured him he was just fine. A little sore maybe, but alive and well.

Fili saw his brother's eyes follow Cirashala as he asked him if he was all right for the umpteenth time, concern in his gaze. Fili glanced at his uncle, the entire company hearing what was said, and back at his brother, almost visibly seeing the daggers shooting out of the young dwarf's eyes at his uncle. He placed a hand on Kili's shoulder to keep him from doing something equally foolish.

"Not now, Kee," he whispered in his brother's ear so the others wouldn't hear. His younger brother turned toward him, confusion in his gaze, and Fili's eyes grew slightly.

He isn't aware that he has feelings for her, the young heir realized. He just knows that he is angry that Thorin spoke to her that way.

Fili decided that now might not be the best time to mention this particular, erm, problem. Especially with the rest of the company, and their uncle, so near.

XXX

Cirashala wasn't stupid. She knew full well that their "surprisingly lucky find" in the cave wasn't lucky at all. She also was smart enough to know that she must get at least a wink of sleep, but then decided against it, knowing full well that it would be better to be alert than groggy when they tumbled into the goblin caverns.

Kili looked at her, his expression filled with concern as his eyes roamed over her shivering form, before glancing fearfully at his uncle. He had heard what was said, and completely disagreed, having seen the signs of her strength in the small things she did and said. However, he didn't wish to incur his uncle's wrath upon himself and get scolded like a child in front of the entire company. He was torn, and not sure what to do.

Glancing down at his pack, he realized he had given all his spare blankets to his brother, whom he had seen rubbing his neck. Fili had confessed that he had hit Dwalin's face rather hard, and his neck and head were a bit sore. The young dwarf looked back up at the girl, not sure what he could offer her to get warmer, Thorin having prohibited Gloin from building a fire, when the thought struck him.

We had slept next to each other to keep warm in the snow, he thought to himself. Of course, if she could just put her spare clothing on, she would be considerably warmer.

He swallowed nervously, before approaching her.

XXX

"Cirashala?"

The young woman looked up from where she was rolling out her still soaked bedroll, having been lost in thoughts of whether or not it would do any good and not hearing the young heir approach. He glanced furtively at his uncle, who was occupied in conversation with Balin, but still keeping an eye on his youngest nephew. His uncle's gaze narrowed, and Kili gulped, making sure to leave respectful distance between him and the young woman, fingering his tunic nervously.

"Don't…I mean, wouldn't you be warmer if you changed?" he asked hesitantly. "I would offer you an extra blanket, but Fili—" She held up her hand, and Kili shut his mouth.

"Your brother cushioned my fall," she said quietly. "He needs the blankets more than I do." Kili gave her an appreciative look, his head nodding slightly.

"Yes, he does," he replied, "But you are shivering—" She sighed, looking down.

"It is what it is," she said, looking at her pack. "But I will dry." He gestured toward her pack.

"What about your spare clothing?" he asked, crouching down to look at her eye to eye, though he still maintained his distance. "Surely that would be warmer?" She sighed heavily, not meeting his eyes.

"I dropped them by the stream, after…." She trailed off, flushing slightly in embarrassment. Kili felt his cheeks warm too, and was grateful for the dim light in the cave. Thorin cleared his throat loudly, and Kili looked over his shoulder.

"Kili, get some sleep," Thorin ordered, giving the young woman a pointed glare as he spoke. Kili sighed slightly, before rising to his feet and trudging back to his bedroll. Thorin watched him like a hawk, and didn't take his gaze off of the young dwarf until Kili had lain down.

He glanced once more at the young woman, concern in his gaze, before the exhaustion and emotional turmoil of the evening caught up with him, and he drifted off into a deep and dreamless sleep.

XXX

She lay there for a while, glancing in the two heir's direction as they snored lightly. Kili had offered all his blankets to his brother, whose neck and the back of his head was slightly sore after meeting Dwalin's thick skull. Cirashala thought it was rather fortunate for the young dwarf that the only thing that had broken in their smash into the cliff had been Dwalin's nose, being aware of how thick skulled he seemed to be.

She was incredibly grateful to Fili for what he had done, though she didn't know what to make of it. And she didn't regret that she had snapped at Thorin to stay put on the cliff-goodness knows if Dwalin would have caught him in time, given how her presence seemed to change some things.

She racked her brain, but still couldn't figure out how the stone giants' fight could have happened when they were five days behind schedule. She didn't think that they could have possibly regained that. But, what happened was what happened, and she was grateful that Bilbo will hopefully reach Goblintown in time to find the One.

She just dearly hoped that the hobbit would fall like he was supposed to.

XXX

Cirashala could hear Bilbo and Bofur talking, and reached over to grab her sword quietly, fastening it around her waist. She quietly donned her quiver, making sure the bow was fastened tightly, though she wasn't certain what to do with the arrows. She also grabbed her pain tea herb pouch and tied it to her belt, knowing she didn't have a lot of time and determined to grab the most important items first.

She, unlike Bilbo, was determined not to leave. She didn't know if Gandalf would reach them in time or not, but she knew she must find a way to hold off the goblins until he arrives.

It didn't take more than a few minutes before she heard the long dreaded creak in the floor, and as Thorin shouted at everyone to wake up, she brought her arms over the back of her head around her arrows and curled up into a ball, shutting her eyes tight with a cry as they tumbled into the chasm below.

XXX

The company bumped and jostled against the rough rock wall and each other, their things flying amidst them as they fell down into the deeps. Cirashala felt herself get slammed into the turns in the wall, failing to bite back cries as her knuckles, elbows, and forehead scraped against the rock.

They fell in an unceremonious heap at the bottom, Cirashala landing near the young heirs, before getting the air knocked out of her by a heavy Thorin landing on top of her. Her nose added to her injuries, throbbing but thankfully not bleeding. Bombur was surprisingly one of the last to fall on the pile, causing many dwarves to groan in pain.

The howl of the goblins preceded them, and Dori was the first to get a good look at the incoming onslaught. Then it was utter chaos.

"Look out! Look out!" he shouted. Fili, who had managed to sit up, turned and yanked Kili up to a sitting position, before turning towards the threat. Within half a second the goblins were all over them. The dwarves yelled, fighting them off as best they could as their weapons were ripped from their hands.

Fili and Kili reached out and pulled on Thorin's forearms, trying to help him up, when a goblin jumped on top of him. The various members of the company were one by one hauled to their feet and forced along the bridge, whips, curses, and jeers following them.

Thorin, Fili and Kili had managed to get to their feet, being in the back of the claw they fell in, Cirashala had stumbled to her feet, and Kili and Fili both reached out for her, their fingers grasping air as she was yanked away. Kili then reached for Bilbo, but, like Cirashala, he was yanked away as well.

Fili and Thorin backed up, both in front of Kili. They protected him as best they could, but by then their weapons had already been snatched and taken away. They were grabbed, along with the rest, and forced across the rickety bridge.

Fili kept turning right and left, both in trying to get the goblin's grimy clawed hands to let go, and to see if his brother behind him was all right. Kili was doing the same, looking back and forth between his brother in front of him, and his uncle and Cirashala behind him.

Dwalin saw the goblins yanking his elder brother through the crowds, and shouted as he brought his fist in the goblin's face.

"Get off of him!" he cried, but the goblins paid him no heed, just driving him on with sharp claws and whips, and by sheer brute force due to their overwhelming numbers. Fili also managed to get a solid hit in, as did several of the dwarves.

Cirashala was very careful to be discreet as she glanced backward, noting with relief that Bilbo slipped away as he had done so in the movie. She turned her face forward, fighting with the goblins who grasped her, noting to herself that her gender had not been mistaken as a hand came down where it decidedly did not belong. She swung out her fist, catching the offending goblin in the face, but it served to only make it mad, and the next thing she knew she was sporting three new scratches from its claws on her cheek.

She cried out, but her cries went unheeded as the jeering of goblins became almost deafening. They entered the Great Goblin's throne room, and as Cirashala looked around at the quite literally thousands of ecstatic goblins everywhere, her heart sank.

Gandalf, I dearly hope you will arrive soon. Because I do not know how long I can stall them.

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So, here we are-Goblintown as I promised.

I am tired, and I hurt….going to bed now.

May my readers forgive me for not having Goblintown last chapter :D