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

Cirashala stirred as the morning sun's rays shone through her eyelids. Eyes opening slowly, she blinked in the bright light. Yawning heavily, she rubbed her eyes with the heel of her hand, before taking in her surroundings.

She appeared to be in a wood, the sun's brightness cutting through a thick layer of fog enveloping the trees surrounding her. She could hear birds chirping in the trees above, and the sound of water splashing on rocks. Despite the sun, the morning was cold, and she shivered, drawing the warm fur that covered her under her chin.

She groaned slightly after a moment as she realized she needed to get up and find a tree. Attempting to rise from the ground, she froze with a hiss as pain laced up her back. Memories of the great goblin's cavern flooded her, and the wounds across her shoulders and back burned as she collapsed back down on the ground. She closed her eyes, breaths coming quickly as she fought the pain.

What I wouldn't give for elvish pain tea right now, she thought to herself as her teeth clenched together.

She jumped with a slight yelp as warm breath suddenly ghosted across the back of her neck, a soft snore following. An arm tightened slightly around her abdomen as she felt someone press up against her from the back, nuzzling her hair for a moment, before stilling. The young woman froze, sucking in a sharp breath as her eyes widened.

W-who…

The sun glinted off a small clasp on the furs she was snuggled under, causing her to glance down. She recognized Kili's coat, and images flashed through her mind. Falling in the goblin tunnels, pulling an unconscious Kili out of the river, reviving the young dwarf, Kili offering her his own tunic and bandaging her wounds, and finally, sitting next to the tree by the fire, admitting her fear to the young prince and him in turn admitting his own.

How she ended up falling asleep in Kili's arms and sharing his coat, however, remained a complete mystery to her. But, mysteries aside, she really needed to get up. The only question was how she was going to manage that while not waking him, given that his arm was around her waist.

I hope he is a deep sleeper, she thought to herself as she began to attempt to wriggle free. Because I will NOT let him accompany me, no matter what he says.

XXX

Kili shivered, feeling the loss of warmth. Frowning in his sleep, he scooted further in the direction the warmth had been, only for his hands to reach cold air.

Brow furrowing in confusion, the sleepy dwarf opened his eyes slowly. He spotted the empty space next to him, blinking stupidly for a moment, before his eyes flew wide open.

Sitting up quickly, he gasped, biting his lip as a muffled groan emanated from his chest. His breath came in quick gasps as pain seared up through his ribs and shoulder. He brought his shaking hand up to rub along his chest gently, feeling for breaks. Spotting several, the young prince groaned.

Lovely, he thought to himself, grimacing. Six broken ribs. How in Durin's name am I supposed to bind them myself?

The thought of Cirashala doing it never entered his thinking. Dwarves were modest as a rule (except when bathing or being healed, of course) but even then, that lack of modesty was only usually in front of the same gender or family. Kili, having known his healer cousin, Oin, his whole life, had never had to bare his chest for any female, save his own mother.

She would bathe him as a small dwarfling, and, after he had grown up, bandage the various wounds sustained during his weapons training. The young dwarf had endured enough teasing and laughter over his leaner frame and less-than-dwarvish looks, and he was mortified at the thought of Cirashala seeing his bare chest. Or worse, criticizing him for having less muscle than other dwarves did.

He wondered whether she had been just as mortified the evening before, when he had bandaged her wounds, and felt even worse about it. The sound of a frog splashing into the small spring next to their campsite startled him out of his thoughts, and he remembered that she was not in camp.

Grabbing his knife, he put his hand out against the tree they had leaned against the night before and pushed himself to his feet. His keen eyes glanced around, peering into the fog, but there was no sign of her. His dark eyes scanned the ground, barely spotting small footprints leading north visible in the morning dew.

Taking a deep breath, coughing as it put pressure on his ribs, he began to follow them, hoping that she was safe. Because, if she was, he was going to give her an earful about how stupid it was to go off by herself-again.

XXX

Cirashala stood up shakily, stomach growling. Wiping her mouth, she leaned against the tree, frustrated that she had lost yet another bout of nausea.

There has to be SOMETHING in this forest to help with pain! She thought to herself in dismay. An aspirin tree or something- is that too much to ask?

She knew that she could boil the bark of an aspirin tree, and drink it to relieve her pain. But she hadn't the faintest idea what it looked like, or even if there were any in Middle-earth. She racked her brain, trying in vain to remember if Lord Elrond had mentioned anything at all about which herbs had been used in the tea. Her mind drew a blank.

Athelas might work, she thought suddenly, before her face fell with a sigh. I wish I could remember what it looked like.

She briefly contemplated asking Kili if he knew the healing plant, but then remembered that, by now, the only folk who remembered that this was a healing herb were the elves and the Dunedáin. Kili was neither, and he wasn't even an actual healer among his own people, so she highly doubted he would know.

Still, it wouldn't hurt to ask. She remembered Sam referring to the "weed" as Kingsfoil, so she would ask Kili about it when she returned to camp. Maybe there was a chance he knew the plant if she were to refer to it in its Westron name.

She looked around, noticing that the fog had thickened, and shivered. She could still faintly see the sun's outline, but could barely see past arm's length ahead of her. She began to cautiously walk back, hoping that she wouldn't lose her way.

Goodness knows they were lost enough already.

XXX

Kili stumbled over tree roots, the ground slightly damp from the dense fog.

How far did she go? He asked himself. I should have found her by now.

He did not dare to call her name out, keenly aware of how close they were still to the goblin tunnels. Though goblins disliked daylight, they had been known to come out on cloudy days. The sun had gotten duller as the fog grew thicker, and Kili gripped his knife tightly, swallowing.

He was in no condition to fight, and neither was she. As his eyes scanned through the dense fog, he cursed under his breath.

If she didn't learn to tell him where she was going, he may well have to tie her to his wrist.

XXX

Cirashala kept following the sound of the stream, hoping it would lead her back to camp.

She dearly hoped she wasn't lost, but either she had gone a lot further than she had realized, or she was following the wrong stream. Still, she continued on, knowing that it was better to be near water than away.

She suddenly heard a twig snap in the distance, and froze. Heart pounding, she bent down and grasped a branch off the ground, before moving behind a tree as silently as she could. She could hear the footfalls come closer, and breathed slowly and silently, gripping the branch in the ready as Fili had shown her.

She was, like Kili, keenly aware of the goblin tunnels nearby. But what worried her more was that, unlike the young dwarf, she knew that Azog and his warg pack were out there too- hunting the dwarves.

She dearly hoped that the others were all right, and that the eagles had rescued them in time. She didn't know which way the warg pack would go, or if they would come this direction. But she wasn't willing to take any chances. Doubting a branch would hold them off for long, she debated climbing into the tree, but as soon as she tried to lift her arms up, her face twisted in pain.

The heavy footsteps grew closer, and Cirashala could feel her heart threatening to pound out of her chest.

3….2….1….

She came out from behind the tree with her "sword" held up, swinging it as hard as she could at the dark figure, both shouting as they collided and fell backward into the cold stream behind them with a loud splash.

XXX

Kili fumbled for his knife, grasping it with his right hand as he came up sputtering, still sitting on the bottom of the stream bed. His opponent was on top of him, but with all the water in his eyes, he could not see the other, especially with the splashing and struggling.

He grasped the right wrist of his opponent, before bringing his hand up, only for his own wrist to be blocked by a small, shaking hand.

"Kili, stop!"

Blinking water out of his eyes, the dark orbs widened as they met familiar, frightened blue ones.

"C-Cirashala!" he panted, heart pounding from adrenaline as he lowered his knife away from her neck, the young dwarf trembling at what might have been had she not cried out. "Why in Durin's name did you attack me!?" She blushed to the roots of her hair in her embarrassment.

"S-s-sorry!" she stammered, not meeting his gaze. "I-I thought you were a goblin, o-or warg or something!" His eyes widened, and the startled young dwarf stared at her in bewilderment.

Before he could ask her just what harm she planned on doing to a warg with a branch, a loud rustle sounded from the forest behind them, causing both to freeze. Cirashala's wide eyes looked over her shoulder, then back at Kili, whose eyes were fixed on the forest.

"What—" she whispered, but Kili immediately released her wrist and clamped his hand down over her mouth, cutting her off.

"Shh," he whispered, glancing around quickly. His gaze landed on a waterfall in the stream-the water falling about three feet in a solid sheet to meet the stream below it. To a regular person, the rocks the waterfall fell over seemed to be a solid wall, but to the experienced eyes of a dwarf, a tiny cave was visible behind it, its presence hidden by the rocks that came out from the side of it.

She watched as dark eyes glanced at her, then back at the waterfall, before returning to her. She followed his gaze, before looking at him and nodding. She didn't see how it could help them, but she trusted Kili's judgment. The young dwarf quickly sheathed his knife, before gently grabbing her waist and sliding her off his lap.

The two crawled over to the waterfall as quickly as they dared, not wishing to make too much noise. Another loud rustle sounded, and the howl of a warg sounded through the fog. Kili looked up, face paling, before grabbing her arm and shoving her under the waterfall. As soon as she was under, he dove under as well, coming up on the other side.

He only hoped that the water would throw off their scent. Otherwise, their luck may well run out.

XXX

Cirashala came up out of the water, spitting out the little that had ended up in her mouth. Turning, she spotted Kili come up as well, before the young dwarf pushed her to the back of the tiny cave.

Her back hit the smooth rock wall, and she cried out, muffling it with her hands over her mouth. Kili immediately turned and backed up to her, placing himself in between her and the opening as he drew his dagger. The roof of the small cave sloped downward, forcing the two to sit down on the rocky ledge that stuck out, Kili's boots barely behind the line of falling water.

Neither of them dared to breathe.

XXX

Despite the gravity of the situation, Cirashala couldn't help but feel a bit like a frog, with Kili sitting between her legs and her knees nearly up to her shoulders, but it was preferable to being attacked by wargs….again. And it wasn't the poor dwarf's fault that this cave was tiny. She considered them fortunate that he had even spotted it in the first place. Kili was very tense against her, chest drawing shallow breaths.

"Sorry," he said softly, whispering so quietly she could barely hear him, his gaze never leaving the waterfall. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

Instead of replying, she reached up, resting her hand gently on his shoulder. He jumped slightly, glancing down at her hand, before slowly bringing his left up and resting it atop hers, squeezing lightly. She could feel him trembling, and realized that he, too, was afraid.

As the wargs came into view, the two froze, not daring to move lest they be discovered. Though the features of the orcs atop some of them were distorted from the solid sheet of water in front of them, there was no mistaking the giant pale orc atop the white warg at the head of the pack.

As soon as Azog came into view, Kili's grip on her hand tightened until his knuckles were white, and Cirashala could hear the sharp intake of breath. She suddenly realized that he had not known the pale orc was alive either.

I hope he has more sense than his uncle, she thought to herself. I have no desire to meet Azog without a wizard nearby.