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 Reuel 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

Meril paused as the young girl said the word brother. Her eyes drifted towards Freida, the small child looking at the pair with wide eyes.

"Gramma, why can't we help?" Freida asked, her confused face turning towards her grandmother. "He's hurt. The big cat bit him lotsa times, an' scratched too." Meril sighed, before glancing back over her shoulder.

"They're dwarves, Freida," she replied. "They keep to themselves, and we keep to ourselves. That's the way it's always been."

"Dwarves?" she asked, looking back at the pair with wide eyes full of curiosity. "The short people?"

"Now, Freida, stop staring," Meril chided. "They will think we're going to help them if you do." The child's face fell.

"But Gramma, that girl said her brother will die if we don't," she argued. Meril paused, before looking up at her gently.

"They're not like us, Freida," she replied. "They don't care for anyone but themselves." The child's eyes narrowed, a very surprising expression to Meril, who had never been looked at with anything but love or sorrow from her since the day she was born.

"Is that why Gelin died? Because he was a dwarf?" Meril froze, her jaw dropping.

"Child, Gelin died because he was sick after his cut got infected," she replied. "And I did help him. I cleaned and sewed the cut and gave him food, remember?" The child looked at the pair, then back at her with wisdom far beyond her years in the young eyes.

"Well, he's sick," she retorted. "He's hurt too, an' he's got cuts like Gelin did. An' he's got a sister who doesn't want him ta die either."

Mirel's jaw clamped shut. Freida had been little more than a toddler when her older brother had fallen ill. An axe slipped while he was chopping wood, and despite everything they did the cut still got infected. It was an agonizing experience to watch, especially when Mirel had to drain the pus from the ever darkening wound.

Freida was spared as much as she could, but the child wasn't deaf- she still cried in the barn when the screams sounded through the small village. He died a month after getting hurt, and Freida would wake up crying for her big brother in the middle of the night for a whole year afterward.

"Freida—" she began, but the child cut her off.

"Gramma, he helped me," she said, causing the old woman's eyes to widen in surprise. "I was scared when the cat ran at me, and I dropped my basket. He picked me up an' put me in the tree."

Meril stared at the child, before her eyes turned back toward the pair. The young girl had taken off her tunic, pressing the tattered fabric into the dwarf's chest to try and quell the bleeding. The old woman's eyes fell on the bandages wrapped around her torso, and the bleeding cuts on her arm.

"She hit the cat, Gramma," the child continued. "She kept hitting it and yellin' at it so we could get up in the tree." The old woman stayed silent, Freida's words echoing in her head.

"Come on," she heard the young girl say gently. "Stay with me. Stay awake."

As her eyes once again trailed over the young dwarf, and the fresh blood staining his hands and chest, she turned and grabbed the horse blanket.

XXX

Cirashala looked up in surprise as the old woman approached her, blanket in hand. Rounding Kili's feet, the elder dropped the woven blanket on her shoulders. The astonished look she gave the old woman was met with a stern look.

"For heaven's sake, child, cover yourself up," the old woman chided, moving around to kneel beside Kili. "There's no need to be half naked." Cirashala's mouth hung open for a minute, having heard the conversation between the woman and the child.

The woman grabbed the tunic off of Kili, causing the blanket to be forgotten as Cirashala reached for it.

"What are you doing?" she exclaimed. "I was trying to stop the bleeding!" Her words stopped as the old woman reached behind Kili to sit him up. He cried out at the motion, hand feeling reaching towards his broken ribs, and the woman paused, before turning toward Cirashala.

"Are his ribs broken?" she asked. Wordlessly she nodded.

"Aye," she said quietly, her brow furrowing in confusion. Meril nodded, reaching for the discarded tunic. "H-how did you know?"

The old woman's eyes met hers, and Cirashala saw some understanding and sorrow in the old orbs.

"My daughter was a healer."

XXX

Cirashala watched as the old woman wrapped the tunic tightly around his chest, binding the heaviest bleeding wound as much as she was able with his broken ribs. Kili's breaths came quickly, whimpers and muffled cries leaving him as she did so. Turning, she again whistled loudly, causing the horse to approach the three.

"Help me stand him up," the woman said, reaching under his left arm. "Deloth will kneel, but not that low." Cirashala nodded, sliding her left underneath Kili's other arm, and the two hoisted Kili to his feet.

The young prince was unable to bear hardly any weight at this point, and Cirashala found herself nearly stumbling as half his weight pulled downward on the one arm.

"Come on, Gisli," Cirashala grunted. "Just a little further." She looked up as the old woman voiced a command in a strange tongue, the horse kneeling in turn as Freida dismounted. Between the two of them, they managed to get him astride the horse. Cirashala looked up at Meril, concern in her gaze.

"I-I don't know if he'll be able to stay on," she said hesitantly, eyes downcast. Meril nodded, and gestured toward the horse.

"Get on behind him," she instructed. "I will carry Freida- our village is less than a league away."

XXX

Cirashala held onto Kili as his head lolled on her shoulder, the horse's gait surprisingly smooth for such a sturdy animal. Deloth looked to be far more of a cart horse than a riding one.

The old woman walked quickly in front, leading Deloth by the braided halter, a design that reminded her greatly of Beorn's ponies' bridles in the movie.

They must be part of the woodsmen Gandalf talked about, she thought to herself. But I thought they were on the other side of the Anduin and further south.

The silence was broken only by Kili's shallow breaths, and occasional coughing fits. Cirashala looked past his shoulder, her eyes coming to rest on Freida's big blue ones peeking above her grandmother's shoulder even as she tried to keep pressure on Kili's wounds.

"What's his name?" she asked curiously, her gaze landing on Kili. Cira paused, eyes widening as she remembered Fili's warning to her several weeks earlier.

Do not call us lords, otherwise it would draw attention to our enemies.

"Gisli," she finally responded, deciding that it would be better to hide Kili's identity altogether. Good thing she didn't seem to hear me call him Kili earlier.

The child nodded, before yawning as sleep began to overtake her, the excitement of the day wearing her out. Laying her head on her grandmother's shoulder, she closed her eyes just as Cirashala began to smell wood smoke.

XXX

They came out of the trees to find themselves in a large clearing. About twelve small log cabins were lined up around a muddy street of sorts, with various outbuildings behind them.

Several of them had wood smoke drifting out of smooth grey stone chimneys, and just beyond the circle of houses were small fields of what Cirashala guessed was some sort of grain, as the shoots only reached six inches high.

The old woman led them to a cabin on the edge of town, its windows the only ones dark as shadows fell around the village. Cirashala looked up in surprise as the sun neared the rim of the mountains, not realizing how late in the day it was.

Stopping the horse next to a side door, the woman tied the halter to a pole seemingly meant for that purpose, before turning towards the pair, the sleeping child still in her arms.

"I am going to go lie her down, then come help you get him off," she said, before her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "And I wouldn't suggest trying to steal my horse if you value your lives."

The warning was very clear, and Cirashala nodded in acknowledgement.

"I give you my word that we will not steal it," she replied. The woman's eyes narrowed for a moment, before nodding. She went into the house, coming back a few minutes later as promised and once again speaking the command for Deloth to kneel.

Kili cried out as the movement jostled him, and Cirashala dismounted as best she could while still trying to support him. Drawing his arm over her shoulders again, she waited as the old woman moved to the other side, taking his other arm.

The dwarf's knees buckled underneath him on the slick mud, causing Cirashala and himself to both fall with cries of pain. Sliding a bit as she regained her footing, she noted with dismay that his wounds now had mud on them as well.

Those will need to be cleaned very carefully.

"Come on, Gisli," she said, hoping that Kili had caught on to his new "name". Together Meril and Cirashala pulled the young dwarf to his feet, half carrying half dragging him into the cabin.

"Lay him down on the floor," the old woman commanded as she moved to boil some water from the barrel next to the fireplace. Cirashala did as she was told, concerned at the amount of crimson covering his torso and arms now as it seeped through the blood soaked tunic.

The young dwarf's breaths came quick as beads of sweat mingled with dried blood and dirt on his ghostly pale face, his eyes shut tight. As Meril built the fire, Cirashala leaned in to whisper in Kili's ear, brushing the bangs back from his forehead as she did so.

"Stay with me, Kili," she pleaded. "Please, I…I don't want you to die too."