DISCLAIMER: Let's get this out of the way. I do not own or have any hope of ever owning the characters or happenings of middle earth. They belong to Tolkien and as far as I'm concerned he can keep them. For now. I do however, own my OC, Kidhuzel! So don't steal her. Please, feel free to leave any comments and/or questions that you may have. Follow the story in which ever way you would like, but make your thoughts known but be polite while you do it. Thank you!

~~~~~~~~~~Shishi~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 6

When the sun begins to make it's descent for the day, Thorin calls out to his nephews to find a suitable place to rest. Given the duo's youthful attraction to danger, they choose a cliff-side with a steep drop for the campsite. Despite it's dangerous height, it has excellent strategic advantages. On one side is open air, meaning no enemies can attack from that direction. On another there is a high rock blockade that would be impossible to climb. There is only one way to attack the company and only one way for them to escape if need be. It is as suicidal as it is perfectly protected, hence Thorin does not deem to find another location.

Sliding from his pony, the king deals out orders before settling himself in on a high ledge that overlooks the camp. He does not acknowledge El when she climbs up beside him an hour later with a bowl of stew other than to take it from her offered hands but neither does she offer any words of her own. She is strangely in tune with his needs and desires, understanding his need for silence. When the sun has gone to rest most of the company follows, including the exhausted child. She never did mount a pony and the walk has clearly tired her. Thorin does not try to dissuade her from snuggling into his chest as she did the night before, deciding that keeping her close is the safest coarse of action. El hums lightly in contentment and the dwarf rolls his eyes before he makes an effort to find some rest of his own; as much as he can with a dragon on his chest. He falls into a light doze that is interrupted about an hour later by the hobbit's distressed cries.

"Orcs?!" Bilbo shrieks louder than he intended. It jolts Thorin into a fully awake state, surprisingly half a second behind the dragon child. She easily slips off his person and stands at the cliff's edge, seemingly searching for a threat "What do you mean orcs?"

"Throat cutters. There would be dozens of them out there." The king is pulled from watching the girl at his nephew's voice. The jest is clear, not that the hobbit notices, and it ignites Thorin's temper that they would make light of the very possible future "The low land are crawling with them."

"They strike in the wee hours, when everyone's asleep." Kili whispers, darting his eyes this way and that for effect "Quick and quiet, no screams. Just lots of blood."

"You are young and foolish. These lands are known for their safety, though one would only be so lucky as to face a few dozen orcs at a time." Kidhuzel's lightly whispered words carry on the wind to the ears of those still awake, even as her eyes still search as the brothers laughter at Bilbo's frightened face dies "Still, orcs are loud but swift. You would hear them coming and still it would be too late as they feasted upon your flesh even as you attempt to fight them off. Foolish child; You would scream, you would bleed, and you would die."

"What right have you to say that?" Kili questions heatedly

"Kili, just leave it." Fili tries to coax his brother out of challenging the drake. While he too is angered by Kidhuzel's words, he is wise enough not to deny their truth. Neither shall he admit it "It doesn't matter."

"What gives her the right to call us fools!? Children!?" Kili snarks, rolling his eyes at Kidhuzel's back. After watching her hanging on his uncle's every move for the entire day the first words she exchanges with the curious prince are chastisements, something the dwarf takes clear offense to "What would you, a dam only born yesterday, know of the dangers of the world?"

"Clearly more than you dwarflings." Stepping into the camp, Thorin looks at his youngest kin in disappointment. They blink in embarrassment, looking as though they desire to blend into the wall behind them "You think a night raid by orcs is a joke?"

"We didn't mean anything by it." Kili answers, lowering his eyes but not before throwing a glare at the golden eyed watcher

"No, you didn't." Not desiring to prolong the conversation, Thorin turns from the boys to find some peace of mind. While he understands that they are young and inexperienced, he expects much from his heirs. Getting shown up but a half breed child is unacceptable, evermore when she is correct in her assessment "You know nothing of the world."

Walking to the ledge, the leader looks over the edge in annoyance. It is not often that he finds a peaceful rest and knowing it was interrupted by his nephews ill judged joke only serves to anger him further. Kidhuzel watches him from her place, having found that the shriek was that of an owl and not in fact an orc. Though her ears are only slightly better than those of her fellow dwarves, her eyes and sense of smell easily make up for it with frightening accuracy. Tearing the orbs away from her carrier she directs her attention to Balin as he begins to spin a tale for those who are awake to listen.

"Don't mind him, laddie. Thorin has more cause than most to hate orcs. After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain, King Thror tried to reclaim the ancient dwarf kingdom of Moria" The owl shrieks again sounding oddly at home within the story of battle cries "But our enemy had gotten there first."

She remembers this battle. Unlike most who saw the carnage, Kidhuzel had a very different 'view', so to speak, of the events. Though her memories lack a visual, they are full of color. The smell of blood and sweat penetrated even her hard shell, wrapping themselves around her form like a deadly blanket. There was constant movement, cries of white hot pain, crimson anger, and gray despair but she was not fearful. For beneath it all as Thorin's heartbeat; a persistant pounding that ensured her that he lived. I remember how it sped up as the battle raged on...

"Moria had been taken by legions of orcs, led by the most vile of all their race, Azog the Defiler. The giant Gundabad orc had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin. He began by beheading the king."

How it nearly broke as Azog killed Thror was almost as gut wrenching as his cries of denial...

"Thrain, Thorin's father, was driven mad by grief, he went missing, taken prisoner or killed, we did not know. We were leaderless. Defeat and death were upon us. THAT is when I saw him. A young dwarf prince facing down the Pale Orc."

How it steeled even as he lost his armor and weapons in the face of death...

"He stood alone against this terrible foe. His armor rent, wielding nothing but an oaken branch as a shield. Azog the Defiler learned that day, that the line of Durin would not be so easily broken."

But most of all I remember how his heart sang when he was victorious.

"Our forces rallied, and drove the orcs back. Our enemy had been defeated, but there was no feast, nor song that night for our dead were beyond the count of grief. We few, had survived."

Unable to take the distance any longer, El inches her way around the now fully awake company. Thorin stands with his back to them all; spine straight and shoulders squared, he looks just as she always imagined he would. Her gaze of pure adoration is not missed by Dwalin, as he has been sure to keep her movements within his immediate gaze. She has shed the mining toymaker's hat and the cloak from the hobbit, leaving her draconic attributes out for the night. Even so, he feels no ill will from her; the opposite in fact. If the bald dwarf didn't know better, he would truly believe that the dragon child was loyal in this moment. How could he not, when she all but oozes an aura of obedience for the dwarf. But he is no fool and even if she is true to her word, nothing good will come of her infatuation with the king. Eyeing her warily, he half listens to his brother finish his lesson and half fights off the memories of that day.
"And I thought to myself then, there is one who I could follow, there is one I could call king."

Still half way across the camp, Kidhuzel is able to watch as each of the dwarves slowly rises to their feet in reverence of their king. Each of their gazes is filled with respect and pained understanding for while the story is not unknown to them, it is the first they have heard it in their king's presence. Thorin turns from his glum thoughts to face his men with his head high and begins to return to his previously claimed spot.

"And the pale orc?" Bilbo questions curiously after a quiet moment "What happened to him?"

"He slunk back into the hole from whence he came." Stomping past the little Shireling, Thorin makes his way back into camp with a snarl "That filth died of his wounds long ago."

Gandalf looks at Balin with a knowing expression but neither say anything to refute the king's statement. They know, or suspect, something that they are not willing to say out right just yet and this does not sit will with the girl. She will discern what they know on the topic; being Thorin's eyes and ears amongst even his own. Though fresh from her shelled home, Kidhuzel is no fool and knows that without a body, no enemy is safely dead.

"Were there truly orcs out there?" Ori asks quietly, having not heard the screeches but understanding where the story probably stemmed from "So close to the Shire?"

"No-" Kili starts to calm his friend but is cut off by the little girl

"Yes." twisting to face the open sky where the ledge ends, she points into the darkness "The shriek was an owl but orcs are watching us from over there. I can see their armor reflecting in the moonlight."

"You can not possibly see that far." Kili responds with a snort, his earlier heat rising again. Walking up to stand a safe distance beside her, he peers over to where El gestured "As an archer, my eyes are the best in the group and I don't see anything."

"Second best now." she giggles childishly as he flushes in anger

"You little-"

"Enough. Kili. Kidhuzel. I will not have you fighting amongst yourselves." El's only response is to immediately disregard the seething young dwarf beside her and return to Thorin's side. Knowing she is waiting to return to her sleeping position, he calls out to the company with an exasperated sigh "Gloin, bank the fire just in case Kidhuzel is correct. They are too far to do us any harm tonight but rest while you can. I'll not have us taking any chances."

~~~~~~~~~~Shishi~~~~~~~~~~

Sorry for the late update. I could give you a list of reasons why its late but I'm not feeling too hot at the moment. Thank you Laura, watergoddeskasey, and wishfulwriter89 for you kind reviews. Also, thanks to those who favorite and follow the story. Pop a message in the comment box every once in a while. -Shishi