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

Warning-there is a graphic violence warning in this chapter related to orcs- please be forewarned.

Cirashala looked at the young prince, not sure whether to believe him, before glancing back down to her tangles, hesitant.

Her mind recalled what Fili had said that night after the pinecone incident, the memory still very clear in the young woman's mind.

Among dwarves, hair is very important to us. No one, except family, or if they are betrothed…

She knew that Kili had been greatly embarrassed by the pinecone incident, especially with Fili's amusement with the situation. Given what she knew of dwarves and pride, it didn't surprise her at all that Kili hadn't taken her up on her offer to help then. Especially since the entire company had been present, including Thorin, and her actions could have been greatly misinterpreted.

But Thorin isn't here, she thought to herself. No one else is here.

Before she could make up her mind, Kili suddenly but carefully stood up, kicking some loose dirt over the tiny fire and extinguishing it. She looked up at him in confusion, before quickly glancing around them, eyes wide.

"What's the matter?" she asked quickly, "Did you hear some—" The young prince cut her off, his back to her as his shoulders slumped.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, though she could hear a slight tremor in his voice. "I-I never should have asked….I should have known you would take it the wrong way, I….Forgive me." Cirashala's eyes widened as she looked at him, recognizing his tone.

It is the same tone he used when he apologized for wiping my tears, she realized, her gaze softening. He-he really is just trying to help.

XXX

Kili began to walk toward the fallen tree, feeling like an absolute fool for even daring to suggest that he help her with her hair, when her voice behind him caused the young dwarf to halt.

"Wait," she said quietly. The young dwarf turned slightly, though he did not look at her. She swallowed nervously, eyes in her lap.

"W-would you help me?" she said quietly, wide blue eyes looking up at him. "Please?" Kili was sure he heard wrong.

"Y-you want me to help you?" he whispered, looking over at her nervously. She looked down at her broken hand, and reached toward it, fingering the end of the bandage, before nodding.

"It's either that, or-or I cut it off," she whispered, looking back up at the young dwarf with sad eyes. "Should we run into danger—" She immediately fell silent at the utterly horrified look on Kili's face.

"Y-you would…cut it off?" he whispered, shock evident in his tone. She took a deep breath, and nodded slightly.

"Aye, if it means the difference between life and death," she replied, swallowing heavily. "I can't see with it in my face, and that could get one-or both of us- killed if we are attacked."

The young dwarf was completely stunned. Dwarves would never cut their hair, much like they would never shave their beard, unless it was in deep despair. That is why-should a dwarf warrior ever need assistance- their families would aid them in making sure their hair was at least pulled back from their face. Even Kili, who wasn't very interested in braids, at least had his pulled back in a clip identical to his brother's, and had wound a small leather strip around the ends to keep it out of his quiver.

If a dwarf's hair was cut, and it wasn't due to grief, then the dwarf would become a shamed dwarf, one of the worst things that could happen to someone in such a tightly knit society. And for a woman to be declared a shamed dwarf….it would imply that she had done an unforgivable and dishonorable deed, and she would be rejected from all interaction with dwarves for the rest of her life.

Even her own family would disown her, and her kin as a whole would reject her. In this case, Kili would end up being the one to shore her locks with his knife, since her wrist was broken and she could not reach them all. The symbolism of that act would imply that she had done said unforgivable and dishonorable deed to him, whereas Cirashala had not done anything to deserve such a cruel punishment.

Though she was a human, and her family was gone already, Kili was determined that he would not bring shame upon her, simply because he was too nervous to braid her hair. Brown eyes met blue, and the young dwarf could see in her eyes that, while the thought pained her, she was absolutely serious. If she couldn't get it out of her face, it would be cut-for the safety of both of them. The young prince slowly nodded.

"Aye, I will help you," he said quietly.

XXX

He made his way back to his former spot, sinking down to the ground slowly to avoid pulling on his tightly wrapped injury, before looking hesitantly at her.

"Sit in front of me," he said quietly, moving his legs into a more comfortable position so as to not cut off circulation during his task. She nodded, scooting over until she was just in front of him, but far enough away that he could comfortably braid her hair.

Kili removed his gloves and reached for the long hair, drawing it back from her face, before he began to comb trembling fingers through it as gently as he could. He frowned as several strands wound themselves around his fingers, and some loose hairs came out as he worked at the tangles.

"Some of them are coming out," he said quietly, guilt in his voice as he shook more off his fingers. "I-I am not meaning to pull them out, I swear."

"It's all right," she replied, no anger at all in her tone, much to Kili's surprise. "My hair-it's really curly, and it has a tendency to do that, especially if it hasn't been brushed in a few days." He sighed, and nodded, continuing to move his fingers through her locks even as he wished he had a comb.

Her hair was very fine, surprising the young archer, who was used to his brother's thick and wiry hair. As he found his fingers sliding through it more and more easily, he began to pick out small twigs and leaves that had gotten ensnared, setting them off to the side.

H-her hair is…rather soft, he thought to himself as he worked. I-I've never felt soft hair before.

XXX

Cirashala sat there as he quietly worked on the knots, wincing every so often as he tugged. But the young archer tried to be as gentle as possible- she could feel it in the way his fingers moved along her head, much like she had moved hers along his chest. The young dwarf soon ceased his ministrations, and she felt her hair settle on her back.

She felt more than saw Kili begin to move, until he came into view. He slowly reached for the lock of hair next to her face, and began to separate it into three strands. His dark eyes focused on the hair in his hands, though she caught the occasional hesitant glances at her face, the young dwarf swallowing nervously.

He began to braid a thin braid on the side of her face, just like she had done before they had gotten separated from the company. She watched as his fingers moved quickly, the plaits far more even and straight than she could manage herself with her curly hair. Surprised she glanced up at him, though she tried to not move her head in the process.

"H-how did you get so…so good at braiding?" she asked hesitantly. He glanced up at her in surprise, and she flushed slightly in embarrassment.

"Well, you see," she began nervously, hoping she hadn't offended him. "Y-you don't have any…" To her surprise the young dwarf's mouth twitched, slight amusement in his eyes as he resumed his task.

"Who do you think does Fili's?" he asked after a moment, smirking at the look of surprise on her face.

"Erm, well, I….I thought he did," she stammered, flushing as she looked at her lap. Kili chuckled to himself.

"Why do you think I don't wear any?" he asked, moving to the other side to begin the next braid. "He could not fashion a decent braid if his life depended on it." She noticed the young dwarf suddenly get quiet, and glanced up, noticing a shadow of worry come over his face.

"I am sure they are all right," she said quietly. He nodded, swallowing heavily. She glanced back down to her lap, the young woman quiet for a moment.

"I envy you," she said suddenly, causing the young dwarf to pause as her eyes came back up to meet his.

"Why?" he asked, brow furrowing in confusion.

"You two are so close, you're practically inseparable," she replied, eyes falling back down to her lap. "It took a fall in Goblin town to separate you, for heaven's sake. I-I wish my sisters and I had even been half as close as you two are." Kili continued braiding, though surprise shone in his eyes.

"Y-you have sisters?" he asked curiously, and she nodded.

"Two of them," she replied, picking up a dry pine needle and breaking off tiny pieces. Kili could see her reluctance to speak about them, but his curiosity won over, the young woman having never mentioned siblings before.

"A-are you the youngest?" he asked, and she shook her head slightly.

"The eldest," she replied, sighing. "By ten and a half months. Though many people didn't realize it, because my second sister was taller than me. And she physically…grew up….faster than I did."

Kili finished the second thin braid and scooted back behind her, drawing all of her hair back to do a single braid down the back, since all they had left was one small strip of her tunic to tie it off with.

"Why weren't you close?" he asked quietly, the young dwarf being unable to imagine being anything but with his brother. She sighed, and he could feel her tense.

"I-I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I-it's none of my concern." She didn't respond for a moment, and he wondered if he had offended her.

"I was…very different from them," she said quietly, and Kili could hear the sadness in her voice. "We lived in a lot of different places, so they were really the only playmates I had for any length of time growing up. But, I was often…left out." She paused, swallowing as memories came into her mind.

"I would want to play with them, but they weren't interested, and it got worse as we got older," she said, voice wavering slightly. "They…they said I embarrassed them around others, just by my appearance. They didn't want me to spend time with them. I tried to make friends with others, but….let's just say I finally gave up, and ended up spending a lot of time alone."

The young dwarf was at a loss for words. He could not imagine a life without Fili. They had done everything together, for as long as Kili could remember. They had trained together, gone to lessons together, learned to forge together, and even slept next to each other still, having done so for so long that they had trouble sleeping without each other by their side. If Fili were to ever reject him like that….the young archer would be absolutely heartbroken.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, tying off the end of her braid. "I-is that why you have such a hard time…trusting?" She nodded.

"Part of the reason," she said almost inaudibly, before rising to her feet, the young woman refusing to make eye contact with the young dwarf. "We should get moving."

Kili could almost feel the wall come up around her, and rose to his feet as well. His brown eyes followed her as she approached the fallen tree tentatively, before looking back at him, the guarded look she wore with the company-her mask- back.

Kili approached the tree behind her silently, even as he felt the first drops of rain fall on his face.

XXX

Azog looked at the scene before him, the satisfaction of an evil deed coursing through his veins, though it was mixed with fury.

The covered cart had been tipped on its side, half of the canvas top shredded and stained with blood. The axle was broken in two, and one wheel creaked ominously as it slowly spun in the cool breeze. The contents of the cart were strewn about, all things of value now adorning the bags of the orcs. Various pots and pans were on the ground, along with articles of clothing, a few books, and a picture frame or two. Bags of flour and dried beans were ripped open on the ground, their contents intermingling with bits of broken wood.

The wargs had seen to the slaughter of the boar that had pulled the cart, and were now feasting on its bloody carcass as its blood seeped into the ground. A few had sustained some minor wounds, and were licking at them with their bloody maws.

A few dead wargs were strewn about as well, the attack costing the orc pack as well. The pale orc's eyes then landed on the owners of the cart, lying in the soil. The dwarf man was dead, killed by his mace after the dwarf had slain three wargs and an orc with his axe. His long brown beard was dripping blood, the eyes lifeless as they stared up at the sky.

Azog's gaze then fell on the woman behind him, who had fallen after one of his orcs had stabbed her in the chest. His eyes beheld her swollen belly, and he was startled to see a very slight rise come from it. Eyes narrowing, he drew a knife from the belt of the dwarf man, and moved to stand over the woman.

The light had not quite died from her eyes, even as blood dripped from her mouth. The red stain on her chest kept spreading, and a slight gurgle sounded from her lips. The giant orc smiled evilly, crouching down beside her. Taking his knife, he traced her face with it, the tip barely brushing over her cheek even as her eyes widened in panic.

"Tell me where Thorin Oakenshield is," he spoke in clipped Westron. The woman's eyes widened in fear, and she replied with a watery cough.

"I….do-don't know," she gasped out, drops of blood spewing from her lips even as her eyes filled with tears. Azog's look of anger and disgust deepened, and the pale orc brought the knife down to her swollen belly.

"Tell me where he is!" the pale orc roared, causing the dying woman's eyes to widen even further as she began to cough again. In a rage, Azog sliced her belly open, before reaching in and drawing the squalling infant out by the neck.

"NO!" the woman gasped as the pale orc shoved his clawed tines in front of the babe's chest, before looking at the terrified dwarf woman. Her eyes were wide with panic, and her mouth began to form words.

"B-bl-lue….M-mountains," she gasped, tears streaming down her face. "P-ple-please, n-not m-my baby." Azog's face contorted in rage, knowing that Thorin was nowhere near the Blue Mountains, and he stabbed the crying infant's chest, killing the babe instantly.

The pale orc watched as horror and grief filled the dwarf woman's features, before the light went out of her eyes and she fell back limp. The pale orc's eyes spotted a rope from the cart lying nearby, and grabbed it, throwing both the rope and the infant's body at one of the orcs.

"Tie it to a tree by the leg," the giant orc sneered, before standing. His body stained with the red blood of the dwarves, he turned toward his pack.

"We followed the wrong trail," he growled, glaring at the scout who had found it in the first place. The orc crouched down in fear, awaiting the wrath of his master. Fortunately for him, Azog knew that his numbers were dwindling, and that it might not be wise to kill the scout-yet. The pale orc mounted his beast, just as the first raindrops began to fall.

"We go back to the camp, and find the trail again," the pale orc growled in the black speech. "No more mistakes! I want the head of Thorin Oakenshield, even if I have to chase him all the way to the damned mountain!"

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A NOTE TO MY READERS: I am sorry for the graphic violence in this chapter, but there is a specific reason for it exactly the way it is, so please no flames. I almost cried with it….but it is relevant and important to the story.

Please read and review! :D :D :D I appreciate all of them! And a HUGE shoutout to the 15 reviews for chapter 67! That is a new record for me for most reviews for one chapter! You guys made me SO happy! :D :D :D

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