The trolls' hoard was actually quite extensive and they founded useful things buried in there. Thorin, at first, wanted to refuse the elf-blade, Orcrist, but when Gandalf scolded him, he took it. After a short time, he supposed he agreed with Gandalf. The blade was very nice. Still as sharp as if it were new and in very good condition. He was lucky to find it. He didn't doubt that his own weapon was no good, but he knew he could come to prefer this new weapon. He even saw, out of the corner of his eye, Gandalf giving Bilbo a weapon to use. He paused for a moment, pondering if he should go back and find something for Ammie to use, but he ultimately decided against it. She had no need for weapons. She was too delicate for that. They would protect her. End of story.

The company moved on for only a short while before coming upon a commotion not far from them. They all stood ready to attack, closed in a tight circle, Ammie and Bilbo in the middle.

Out of the trees came a mad man on a sled pulled by, by all things, rabbits! Pulled by eight of them, the sled was constructed of sticks, twigs, fallen branches. Quite an odd sight to be seen. Gandalf knew him and stopped the company from harming him and stopped the man from harming any of them. Gandalf labeled him as Radagast. Radagast the Brown! Gandalf had spoken of him but days ago while they traveled through the rain!

The two wizards started a frantic and hushed conversation. Bits and pieces flew out. Something about Dol Guldur and a Necromancer? Confusing business, that. A few words about Greenwood came through as well and a mention of nasty, giant spiders. What on earth could have been going on there?

Only hours earlier, before the sun had risen, Orcs had attacked. It wasn't unusual for them to pray on whoever or whatever they found, but it was unusual that they lingered in the area. So unusual that the company the pack had attacked never saw it coming. Half lay dead. The other half wounded. Some fled together, most fled alone, taking nothing with them.

A younger elleth managed, by some miracle from a higher power, to pull her wounded body onto her horse. Adrenaline pumped through her body as she coaxed the animal to go faster and faster. She rode the poor beast too hard and she knew that, but it was exhaustion or death. Her own body was weak, losing blood, and she was feeling faint. She had no idea where she was going, but prayed she would find shelter and more importantly, other beings.

There was a sound in the distance. The desperate sounds of a frantic horse. Galloping closer and closer to their company. They would have heard a voice ring out through the trees and over the heavy galloping. It was a desperate voice. Female? Perhaps. It said one thing. "NORO LIM, RILAS! NORO LIM!"

Out of the trees, some yards away, a large horse burst through, carrying a woman on its back. Upon seeing the dwarves, however, the horse skidded to a halt, barely avoiding a collision with two of them. It reared back, startling the rider greatly and throwing her from the saddle and now free of its burden, bolted into the trees.

The rider, or former rider, really, lay on her side. Upon seeing the horse bolt, she made to get up, but her injuries stopped her. She cried out for the horse, assumingly named Rilas. When he was gone from her sight, tears spilled down her pale cheeks. It was then she looked to the dwarves. Frightened, she moved back across the forest floor, babbling in her native tongue.

Her hair, though stained with blood and dirt, was pale blonde. It was hard, even to call it blonde in some light. It was so fair that it almost appeared white, like starlight. Her skin was unnaturally pale, but that, one would imagine was caused by her current state. Her eyes were a rich blue, but full of fear and pain.

Her clothes were torn and stained with blood. Flowing robes of green and black with dark embroidered accents darting through them. Her feet were clad in dark green boots, her hands covered by thick leather gloves. Across her waist was a belt that carried one thing, an empty quiver. Across her forehead, lay a headdress dripping with pearls and her neck was guarded by a thick silver necklace. Strange things to be wearing on the road. Strange, indeed.

Shaking like a leaf in the wind, she put a hand up to shield her face and allowed a solitary sob to escape her. She choked out over her hoarse throat, "Please. Please, spare me."

Ammie saw Gandalf bequeathing a hobbit-sized sword to her Uncle, but no one made mention of gifting one to her. She opened her mouth to protest, but had scarcely any time to demand a weapon of her own as a forest sled pulled by rabbits catapulted itself into her company's wake. She and Bilbo were thrown together at the center of the dwarve's circle, but luckily no real peril ensued afterward. It was none other than Radagast the Brown, another wizard that Gandalf had mentioned the previous day. He appeared bearing ill tidings, which he explained at length to Gandalf but no one else was capable of understanding his ramblings. First the trolls, Ammie thought, and now this! But, as one might imagine, the day's drama had yet to truly unfold.

Radagast's appearance preceded another's by fifteen minutes at most. Galloping could be heard in the distance, through the woods, and a solitary, desperate female voice. The party once more packed together in alarm. Suddenly, a large horse burst from the trees carrying with it a female rider. The sight of the dwarves gave her steed a fright, and it reared back, toppling the woman onto the ground. The horse then dashed into forest, leaving its owner calling after it with a consuming despondence and pain.

The woman noticed the dwarves for the first time and scrambled back across the floor to press herself to a tree. She chattered away in a foreign tongue, and the dwarves glanced to one another with evident confusion. Gandalf took a couple of measured steps forward, shushing her gently. He was trying to calm her down enough to explain what had befallen her. She had been through quite an ordeal, if her torn and bloodied garments were any indication. Her pale hair and skin were coated in grime and more blood. She sobbed pitifully, begging for the dwarves to spare her life.

Now, Bilbo at once recognized that this was no ordinary woman. She had to have been an elf, which was the only thing that could explain her hair color, vivid blue eyes, and flawless complexion. No amount of dirt and blood could diminish her striking appearance. But he was struck dumb by that realization. He had read many books and references about elves—their homelands, languages, and customs—and found himself too excited by the mere sight of her to do anything productive or offer assistance. Ammie, however, saw that the stranger needed comfort—and quickly!

She dropped to the woman's side, stroking her hair and trying to soothe her. “Poor thing! Shh, it's okay! No one's going to harm you. I'm a woman, too, see? I won't let those dwarves manhandle you or anything. They're nice, I promise! Please, what's your name? Tell me, what's the matter? I'm Ammie, by the way. Ammie Took! I'm a hobbit.” She smiled as radiantly as possible, even though her face was similarly coated with dust from crawling around so much earlier.

As for Fili... Well, Fili had experienced something bizarre. He stared at the elven maiden, quite enraptured by her beauty. His uncle harbored immense hatred for her kind. He knew this. He also knew that he, too, should bear similar feelings towards their kind, for their indifference during his uncle's plight with Smaug. If they had offered assistance all that time ago, perhaps Erebor would not have been taken. However, while beholding this radiant maiden he felt no disdain or indifference in his heart... Only marvel. He stumbled forward, his blond brows furrowed in confusion, and knelt beside Ammie. “Who did this to you, fair one?” he breathed, taking her hand and stroking his across it gently. Ammie grinned smugly. At least one of the dwarves was trying to help! Although, from his stricken, handsome face, Ammie wondered if Fili was helping for the correct reasons?

Thorin was equally taken aback by the elf that was, quite literally, dumped before them. But instead of being consumed with pity for her, he was consumed with hatred. He watched Gandalf approach her and that, he didn't mind, but when Ammie went, he felt himself annoyed. It wasn't until Fili went to her, did he really become upset. Hardening himself, he marched passed his kin and over to the elf. He stared down at her, then looked to Fili and then to Ammie, "Both of you. Get up. Leave her. She's no concern of ours."

Shockingly, the dwarves burst out into protest behind him. Half of them wanted to leave and let the she-elf fend for herself and the other half wanted to assist her. Thorin felt a deep throbbing ache explode in his temples.

Kili stood next to Bofur, shouting that they had no choice. They had to help her. He saw the way Fili looked at her. Normally, Kili wouldn't mind either way, but there was something about the way his brother went to her that struck him. He had to stick up for Fili no matter what Thorin said. "If we leave her and she dies, her blood is on our hands! She is innocent! We have to help!"

Radagast moved toward her as well, standing next to Gandalf. He took a deep breath and motioned to her, "Do you see what I mean? Evil is lurking nearby. What else would attack something so pure?"

Naerwyn, startled at first, struggled to get away from Ammie, but her body stiffened with pain. There were cuts on her hands, on her face, on her legs, her torso. The tip of an arrow stuck out of her right hip. She took comfort in Ammie's words, but only half of them sunk in. Words tumbled clumsily passed her lips, "Hobbit?" A gasping pause, "Ammie. ...Ammie." Another gasping pause. "Naerwyn."-gasp-"I am Naerwyn."

Naerwyn's blue eyes jumped to Fili when he approached and made, again to get away, but the pain from her hip stopped her. She was surprised when he took her hand so gently into his own. Through the leather, she could almost feel the warmth from his hands. The feeling of comfort was gone when Thorin stood above her. His frame alone was enough to frighten her, but his words scared her more. Leave her to die? He couldn't! Naerwyn's body convulsed and she took in a large, gasping breath, "Please! I will die without your aid! Please!" She was desperate and searched her battered body for something, but what? When she felt the tear drop pearl slide against her sweat slick forehead, her eyes widened. Her hand shot up and she very unceremoniously ripped the headdress off of herself. She held the pearls out to Thorin, her eyes wide with panic and desperation, "Help me and it is yours! It is all I have! Please!"

“That's so cruel!” Ammie protested, hazel eyes snapping to Thorin with a touch of resentment. Normally she would be afraid of talking back to the regal dwarf, and was sure to regret her harsh words later. But this woman, Naerwyn, would die without their assistance! “She's hurt, and A WOMAN, and you're going to leave her here? She offers you her pearls, pleading for help, and you don't care? What did she do to you to deserve this? She only needs some help!”

“Enough, all of you!” Gandalf boomed, “Be quiet!” His voice held such terrific authority that all of the dwarves stopped bickering at once and shrank back in silence. He prodded Fili with the end of his staff. “Give her some room! That means you, as well! Can you not see that she is wounded?” Fili released the elf's hand and stood up, moving away abashedly. Finally, Gandalf fixed Thorin with a thoroughly scathing glare. “I have had just about enough of your prejudices, Mr. Oakenshield. We do not leave the innocent to die just because they are elves! This woman has never done you an injustice, and we are going to...STAY...PUT...Until I have tended to her!”

Fili stood beside Kili with a peculiar gleam in his blue eyes. Naerwyn, she had called herself? He committed the name to memory, his hand tingling with the lingering warmth of hers. Ammie gave Naerywyn a reassuring pat before leaving Gandalf space to work. He examined the arrow wound, murmuring to himself about not having the proper tools, and then held the end of his staff close to the injury. The staff glowed with a faint blue light while Gandalf chanted quietly. “That should have numbed the area. Did it succeed?” The wizard waited for the woman's verbal confirmation before actually digging his fingers into her side for the arrowhead. If the jagged object could be removed, her injury would heal itself fairly quickly. He successfully located the end of the arrow and speedily yanked it from the elf's side.

“I am sorry for the discomfort,” Gandalf apologized to her, and then turned to the others. “Someone will have to dress her wounds, and apply salve. She requires the healers at Rivendell for her remaining injuries. I cannot do much else for her, but unless we abandon her she will not perish.”

Fili stepped forward immediately. “I will attend to your wounds, fair one,” he said to Naerwyn with a dashing smile. Ammie growled and smacked the blond dwarf in the back of his head. “What, so your hands can creep all over her? She barely knows you! I'll be helping you with it, in case you try anything funny, thank you very much! Kili, are you coming?” Ammie completely ignored Thorin's sour expression—she could feel it searing into her back—and moved to help the elf get up. Fili took Naerwyn's other arm and slung it over his shoulder. She was a couple of inches taller than him, he could tell, but that had never gotten in the way of his flirtations before.

Ammie tried to think of the best place to attend to the elf. There had to be some stream nearby where they could wash the woman off. Right? “Uncle Bilbo,” she said. “Did you see any rivers coming down here?” Bilbo blinked, reminded of the troll snot yet again. He grimaced. “Oh, well, let's have a look. I need one myself.” After a bit of searching, they located a very small spring and carefully settled Naerwyn down beside it. Ammie fumbled through the pockets of her vest for a hankerchief that she could use to clean the elf off with.

“And round up the ponies!” Gandalf told the idle dwarves of the company. “We must be off sooner than later!” He sighed wearily and turned to Radagast while rubbing his forehead. “You were right, my old friend. I do not take these omens lightly. We must hurry on to Rivendell, lest this evil pursue us. I fear it is drawing nearer.”

Thorin waited while Ammie screamed up at him, scolding him for attempting to turn Naerwyn away. His eyes roamed over Naerwyn, then to the pearls in her hand. He turned his head away, crossing his massive arms over his chest. "There is nothing you can say to persuade me, She-elf. Whatever attacked you will likely be on your trail. You bring danger to my kin."

Thorin said nothing more after Gandalf screamed at the lot of them. He wanted, badly to put his foot down that they were not taking in a filthy elf, but he knew it was very bad to argue with a wizard. Thorin turned away and began to stomp off, trying hard to ignore the sounds of the elf whimpering and moaning in pain.

Kili followed behind them, digging in his pack for anything that could aid them in tending to the elf's wounds. He had noticed the look in Fili's eyes and couldn't help but roll his own. He wasn't sure what Fili thought he could accomplish, but he figured, in the end, it would be Kili assisting Fili in scooping up the pieces of his broken heart.

When Thorin refused her still, she dropped her hand to the ground, her headdress falling out of her weak and loose grasp. She was going to die. If they wouldn't help her, she knew she was going to die. But a startling thing happened! The wizard! Mithrandir! He came forward, sending the dwarves back and causing them quite a fright. He was going to help her! A smile broke out on her face, stretching across her pale and cracked lips.

She sat still, watching Fili leave first, then Ammie, Gandalf replacing them. Using a spell, he numbed her hip and she nodded weakly to him when he asked if it took effect. Only it wasn't enough. The pain was lessened, but still present. Crying out, she slammed her head back against the tree, her body writhing when he yanked the arrow from her tender flesh. Her weak body convulsed and a new sweat broke across her skin, soaking her clothes anew.

She barely heard them talking about binding her wounds. At that point, she couldn't have cared less about that. She didn't realize that they had decided who would be the one to tend to her until she was being lifted. Her exhausted limbs ached with the movement and she whined loudly. She was grateful to be on the ground again and the sound of the stream soothed her. Without much warning, her drained body was brought back to life with a rush of adrenaline. She managed to flip herself onto her stomach and dragged herself closer to the stream. She ripped her glove off and dipped her hand into the cool water. Bringing it to her lips, she drank deep from the water cupped in her palm. Then again, then again. It soothed her dry throat and calmed her some. She never thought about startling the others when she turned herself over so quickly.

Radagast only nodded in agreeance. He turned and checked his rabbits, whom were fine. Being so far from home, he worried about them. They were tough little guys, though and he was grateful for that.

Ammie gave a little squeak as the elf woman suddenly flipped herself over onto her stomach in order to drink from the spring. However, the cool water seemed to have done some good for her, given her calmed expression afterwards. The hobbit dipped her handkerchief into the water and began using the damp cloth to clean off the dirt and blood from her face and hair. It wouldn't be very thorough. None of them would have a proper bath until Rivendell...Provided, of course, that Thorin would allow them to even go to that place. He seemed to have serious issues with elves (or helping injured people, who knew) and Ammie did not, for the life of her, understand.

"Your uncle," she addressed Fili. "What was that back there?" So far she'd held nothing but admiration for their company's leader, but now she'd witness an uglier side of him.

Fili and Kili had a fair amount of gauze between them, probably in case of personal injuries. He was slicing up pieces to dress Naerwyn's wounds, and started doing so with a gentleness he'd not had in a while. "Uncle is angry at the elves," he said, "Particularly the wood elves of Greenwood. Thranduil looked on as Smaug took Erebor and did nothing. He considers the elves responsible for every terrible thing that happened following Smaug... The orcs killing his grandfather, capturing his father... And now he is a king estranged from his throne--"

Ammie cut Fili off. "Wait.... He's..." Her eyes bulged. "A king?!" Her gaze flitted from Kili to Fili with shock. "And you're...His heirs, so...Princes?"

Fili grinned playfully and shrugged. "If you want to see it like that. We don't think about it often." He applied some salve to scratches on Naerwyn's face with perhaps too much concentration, his fingertips stroking lightly across her skin.

Ammie was utterly dumbfounded. She'd been staring at the bloody king of dwarves the entire previous day! And he'd touched her face. TOUCHED HER FACE!! She shook her head to bring herself back to reality. No! She was angry at him for his mistreatment of Naerwyn. No fawning right now! Meanwhile Bilbo was peeling off his outer garments to dunk them into the spring. He had only a couple of changes of clothes, and he was not about to let these ones become permanently saturated in troll snot!

Naerwyn allowed herself to be rolled back over by Kili and her head and shoulders supported by his knees. Ammie began to wash her face and hair, which she was grateful for. The feeling of dirt and blood on her skin was bothersome and the thought of her hair being entangled with grime was down right unsettling. She watched while the blonde dwarf dressed her wounds with surprising tenderness. Dwarves weren't usually known for being gentle folk, but he was very careful with her. As if too much pressure would cause her to crack.

When he touched her face, instinct made her jerk away from him. The dwarf above her was gentle when he held her still. He gently shushed her, promising her no harm and he reminded the other to be gentle. So many faces. So few names. That bothered her as well.

She said nothing, of course, until the blonde mentioned his Uncle's hatred for the elves. Her brow knit tightly together and she took a careful breath. Her voice was barely stronger than a whisper, "What would he have had us do? March to our own destruction?" She seemed very upset at his words. Upset enough to spare a few tears, "You'd do best to tell your Uncle," she spat the word with distaste, "That not all in the King's army are celibate. They have families. Wives, children. Each of them are sons, brothers, husbands, and fathers."

Finding a new strength, Naerwyn pushed herself to a sitting position. She took a moment to let the fog clear from her mind, then surprisingly, made to stand.

Kili gave the back of Fili's head quite a smack, then made to stop Naerwyn, "You're hurt and if you try to move too much, you will hurt yourself further!"

Fili scarcely felt his brother smack him over the head. (People were doing that a lot today, though, he noted.) He was troubled by Naerwyn's reaction to his words about Uncle Thorin, which were not his own sentiments on the matter. "No, no, no!" he cried, placing his hands lightly on the elven maiden's shoulders and attempting to push her back down as carefully as he could. He did not want to cause her further suffering. "Please, wait! You will reopen your wounds! We are trying to help you, fair one. My uncle may feel that way, but not all of us..."

He swallowed, disbelieving himself. He wondered what Kili would think of his next statement; it already sounded treasonous to himself. Regardless he said, "...I understand, a king must protect his own people above all. Even if it means...Forsaking...Others." Still, he could imagine Thorin's anguish. What was it like to watch someone you believed to be fair and just, an ally, even, coldly watch your loved ones burn? Fili said no more on the subject, rather attempting to soothe the elf and coax her to lay back down. "Please, lay down, Lady Naerwyn. Let us finish tending to your injuries."

Ammie quirked a thin, auburn brow at Fili's kind words. She almost wanted to wave her hand in front of his face to make sure he wasn't so far gone as to ignore the other people seated around him. She didn't, though. "Their uncle is stubborn and illogical," she informed the elf. "Even if the rest of them wanted to leave you, I wouldn't of allowed it. Elf or not, you're still an injured woman! That being said, lie still. You'll hurt yourself more!" For someone so small, she had a commanding tone when she wanted to. The hobbit girl finished dabbing at the woman's face, neck, and arms. "There. You look half decent, now! I don't know, should we let her rest or move her someplace safer?" She glanced up at Fili and Kili questioningly.

Naerwyn tried to get up again, but their words rang true in her ears. She would cause further damage to herself. With a sigh, she allowed herself to be lowered back onto Kili's knees. She wiggled and attempted to make herself as comfortable as she could.

She looked up to Fili while he explained that Thorin's feelings were not his own. She felt a little ashamed for snapping at him so. Hearing such things was hurtful. She understood that Thorin's pain was the cause for his hatred, but to assign blame to every elf he met? That was a little much. And if he would see reason, maybe he wouldn't harbor such an intense dislike for her kin.

Her deep blue eyes met Fili's and she found herself confused. Dwarves, as she had always been told, were supposed to be odd looking. Body parts too big for their anatomy, especially noses and ears, big, clumsy feet, and rat's nests for hair. But this dwarf...this Prince....he was so different. He carried a regal look to him. His face was, dare she say, handsome. Witchcraft? No, no! That's silly.

Despite herself, Naerwyn reached up with a weak hand and placed it on Fili's cheek. She said one thing to him, "Your name?"

Fili's eyes widened as the elf maiden placed her hand lightly on his face. His chest fluttered with emotion. Poor thing...Even injured and disheveled, Naerwyn was still fairer than any woman he had ever seen. "My name is Fili, fair one. Fili, of the line of Durin. And this is my younger brother, Kili."

As Ammie watched Fili and Naerwyn's strikingly blue eyes meet in an intensely intimate moment, the elf woman's hand on the dwarf's cheek, she herself began to blush wildly. She felt as though she should be looking away, or at least making herself scarce. Her own uncle Bilbo had finished wringing out his coat and vest. His blouse had been relatively untouched by the trolls so he seemed content to wear it until the other garments dried out. "U-Uh, Uncle Bilbo," she stammered. "Can you stay with the boys and...Make sure Fili behaves?"

Bilbo appeared confused. "Er, I suppose?" He had not been paying any attention to Fili and Naerwyn's exchange, having been too busy muttering to himself about repulsive trolls and the importance of clean clothing,

Ammie cleared her throat awkward. "Good, because I have to go, uhm.. Get my things. Yes. Naerwyn? I'll be right back." The hobbit female got up, smoothing the dirt from her trousers, and headed towards the dwarves' original camp at the top of the hill. She'd left her pack up there and it contained food, herbs, and other things that might be helpful for the elf. She might need food and drink in her system to heal. She contemplated Fili's words about Thorin and his feelings towards elves. It seemed that half of the party also shared his sentiments, even if his nephews were slightly more understanding. She doubted, however, that they would have been so kind to a male elf. Naerwyn had an advantage in that respect.

Quietly, Naerwyn repeated his name, further committing it to memory. "Fili," she said quietly. Her hand slowly left his face and she placed it over her heart. A small smile spread over her lips and she extended her hand to him slowly. The typical greeting of her kin, "Mae g'ovannen, Fili." Naerwyn glanced up to Kili and gave him a gentle nod, "Kili."

She looked to Ammie when she left and almost made to try and stop her. She wasn't sure it was entirely proper to be left alone in such a state with three men.

Kili cleared his throat awkwardly, hoping to snap his brother out of his stupor and made to move Naerwyn. She moved along with him and he was able to pull himself out from underneath her. He pulled his bedroll out of his pack and laid it on the ground. He lowered her onto it like a pillow, making sure to be extremely gentle. "I'm going to have a word with Bofur. See about getting some supper made. Try to...keep your hands to yourself, brother." Kili stood and walked back through the trees to his kin and went immediately to Bofur to ask about supper.

When Thorin saw Ammie return through the trees, he made his way to her. His brow was knit so tightly, it looked as if it might never come undone. He caught her by the elbow and very gently pulled her aside, "Where is the elf? Is she able to continue on her own?" His lip curled slightly and he gave a hearty sigh, "Or will she have to be carried?"

Fili grinned as Naerwyn greeted him in her native tongue. He found the gesture amusing, and so he decided to return the favor. “Gamatu yenet menu, azbud men Naerwyn,” he said in Khuzdul, dipping his head slightly in a bow. His blue eyes never left her fair face. He snorted at his brother's comment before leaving to see to dinner. What, did the entire party see him as a man who let his hands wander over defenseless women?! He would never! (Unless they asked him, of course.) “Bilbo...” he called in a saccharine tone. “Maybe Bofur will need help making supper?”

The hobbit male glared in response. “Haha, I'm not an idiot. Ammie told me to watch you, and that is precisely what I care to do!” The blond dwarf rolled his eyes, sighing, and then looked back to Naerwyn charmingly. “Well, between the salve and the bandages, I do believe you are on your way to mending. Can you speak well, my lady? It would be good to know what happened, so that we may prepare ourselves for the worst to catch up with us.” He thought to offer her a drink from his concealed flask, but decided against it. It might not make the best impression on the lovely elven maiden.

Thorin seemed to enjoy grabbing the hobbit female by the arm. This time, however, Ammie did not know whether to feel delighted by Thorin touching her again or annoyed. On the one hand, thanks to his nephews' revelation, Ammie now realized she journeyed in the presence of royalty. On the other hand, he had just been an enormous jerk to a helpless damsel. If, for example, the company had stumbled upon Ammie injured in the wilderness instead, would Thorin have stopped to help her? Probably not.

“I don't think she can walk,” Ammie replied. She refused to make eye contact this time, and not just because she was nervous. “Her horse ran away and she has too many injuries to make it to Rivendell on her own. It hurts her to move even slightly, so it is likely that she will have to be carried.”
She gently tugged her arm out of Thorin's hold and stooped to pick up her pack. “She looks a little better, though, after our attentions. Poor thing. I wonder what happened to her? It must have been dreadful.”

Gandalf chatted with Radagast in the background. From the looks of it, he was discussing which direction to go; he did not want to linger in the valley for much longer. The wind carried with it an ominous feeling.

Naerwyn smiled at his greeting and relaxed against the makeshift pillow that Kili had given her. She was feeling much better and some color was returning to her cheeks. She glanced to the other Hobbit when Fili tried to get rid of him, but to no avail. She let out a small breathy laugh and looked back to Fili when he asked her what had happened.

The smile was gone from her in an instant and the color that had come to her cheeks disappeared. Tears welled up in her eyes and she took a shaky breath. Her hands trembled terribly. She breathed one word, "Orcs."

Taking a deep, shaky breath, she continued, "They attacked during the night. We never saw it coming. There were twenty of us. Half of them are dead." Tears poured down her cheeks and her throat closed around an awful lump. "I do not know where the others are. I was beaten, clawed at and suddenly, it was gone. I ran to my horse, but as I was getting away, I took the arrow. I've never been more frightened in my entire life."

Thorin nodded and glanced around at the men. They weren't making to settle, just waiting for Thorin to tell them they were leaving. Some were tending to the ponies and getting them ready to go. He looked to Gandalf, then back to Ammie, "Gandalf advised us to move along. So we shall very shortly. The elf can ride with Kili, if it suits her." He looked down at Ammie and his stomach twisted painfully. He knew she must have been angry with him, but she didn't understand. She just didn't. He reached up and cupped her chin in his hand very briefly, "Don't get too comfortable." And with that, he walked away. He went to Gandalf and as politely as possible, interrupted. "Gandalf, when do you wish to set off?"

Ammie nodded stiffly. At least now Thorin wasn't insisting that they leave Naerwyn behind. From Fili's dreamy expression earlier, she could only assume he'd happily share his pony with the elf. Thorin's hand on her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes, violently jolted her from her thoughts. “Don't get too comfortable,” he said. Ammie spontaneously lost her ability to speak and her limbs became jelly. He released her and walked away. What did...What did that even mean?! The female hobbit touched her chin, her skin strangely warm after the absence of Thorin's fingers. He touched her so often, now. Before the trolls, he'd touched her face. He'd grabbed her arm twice after that. And now he'd cupped her chin almost...Tenderly. Why?

Onlookers would have seen the hobbit's face burning a vivid shade of crimson. She highly doubted he fancied her. As a woman, particularly a hobbit woman, Ammie considered herself plain. Boyish. Cute, perhaps. That had to be it. Thorin viewed her as a young thing, childish and needing protection. Younger, even, than his nephews. Her insides flared with annoyance. Well! That would need to change! Next opportunity she got, she would demand fighting lessons from Kili! Uselessness was not a trait Ammie valued. Shouldering her pack, she headed back down the hill to Fili, Naerwyn, and her uncle.

Gandalf pursed his lips at Thorin's inquiry. “Soon,” he said. His gaze rose to the sky, surveying the sun not quite at its zenith, but close. “Midday, I think, would be good a time as any. Something about this place unsettles me. First trolls and now the appearance of the girl...”

Fili's brow furrowed with concern and sympathy, catching the elven maiden's shaking hands and clasping them to his chest. “Orcs,” he murmured. “Orcs this far?” Bilbo, who was listening now, glanced to Fili with alarm. “There are orcs out here?” he said, panic rising. “Well, she came to us by horse,” Fili said, trying to comfort the hobbit. “It is possible she rode a great distance to escape them. Whereabouts did you come from, fair one?” he asked, searching Naerwyn's face.

Ammie reappeared just then, her pack in tow. “Naerwyn,” she called cheerfully. “Are you hungry at all? I have snacks! Perhaps eating something will make you feel better?”

Naerwyn's eyes were wide and fearful. She shook her head when Fili tried to reassure Bilbo that she could have come a great distance. Her hands did not still their trembling even as he clutched them to his chest. She sobbed lightly over the lump in her throat, "It was only a quarter of a day's ride from our camp to here."

It was seconds after she got it out did they hear the howl of a wolf. Only it was no wolf. Ripping her hands out of Fili's grasp, Naerwyn flipped onto her stomach, looking in the direction of where the howl came from. She sputtered frantically in her native tongue and made to push herself up. She made it, somehow to her hands and knees before the first of the two Warg scouts burst through the trees. Adrenaline launched herself to her unstable feet and she stumbled backwards.

Kili's hands went mostly by instinct to his bow and an arrow. before the warg had anytime to take a victim, it lay dead before them. But that wasn't the only one. Another burst through the trees and made to make a meal of the dwarves.

Thorin, as quick acting as Kili drew his newly acquired sword and plunged it into the beast's head. It made a sickening crunch sound and the creature slumped over, eyes still wide with shock. Putting a foot on its head, he yanked the sword out of the creature's skull and turned to his kin, "Scouts! Which means there are more behind them! Get the ponies!!" Thorin's stomach dropped, though, and panic rose when Ori announced that the beasts had fled. They were done for if they had no ponies.

Radagast, shocked as much as the dwarves at the attack, stepped forward, "Do not worry! I'll draw them off so you can get away!"

Fili's stomach lurched with a sickening sense of forboding at Naerwyn's troubling words, and no sooner had she spoken than a warg howl sounded in the woods nearby. He cursed under his breath and released her hands, shooting to his feet. “Run!” he yelled to Bilbo and Ammie. Bilbo's eyes widened and he seized Ammie's hand. The pair of them sprinted up the hill towards the rest of the group. Naerwyn, perhaps from fear, sprang to her feet and stumbled backwards.

Fili knew she would not be able to outrun the wargs in her current state, so he scooped her up bridal style in his arms and ran for it. All dwarves were used to heavy lifting, as they normally learned blacksmithing from a young age, so she felt relatively light in comparison. “Hold on tightly,” he hissed. If they were cut off by a warg or orc he would need at least one free hand to draw a blade and cut them down.

Gandalf reacted in a similar fashion. “RUN!” he'd shouted to the dwarves, after Thorin and Kili had killed two of the warg scouts. More howls sounded in the distance, signaling that others, perhaps with orc riders, would soon follow. He briskly thanked Radagast for his assistance and watched as the brown wizard bolted into the forest on his rabbit-drawn sleigh. The small patches of woods were giving way to an empty valley of grassy hills and large boulders.

Ammie could scarcely follow what was happening, but she'd seen a couple of giant canine-looking corpses on the way out of the woods. Bilbo kept a tight hold on her and the dwarves pressed the hobbits into the middle of their party, along with Fili and the injured elf woman in his arms. So manly, Ammie thought to herself with amusement, finding humor even in this dire circumstance.

Radagast led the orcs and wargs off on a wild-goose chase into the landscape. They would clear a hilltop, allowing Gandalf to hide the group behind a large boulder, and then sprint to the following boulder once the next area was clear. At some point, alarmingly, Gandalf disappeared. Had he gone on ahead? Some of the dwarves wailed that he'd abandoned them to their fate, and they ducked behind yet another rock to allow Thorin to decide a course of action.

Unfortunately, one of the orcs heard something and broke off from the main pack. The dwarves pressed under the overhanging rock as a sneering warg with its rider loomed above them. Ammie could not see the orc from this angle, but the stench was horrendous. She clasped her hands tightly over her mouth to smother her breathing as best she could. The rest of the dwarves held their breaths and she thought she saw Thorin nodding at Kili quietly.

Indeed Thorin had nodded to Kili. Taking a steady breath, Kili silently drew an arrow and readied it on his bow. He turned and faster than lightning, he released the arrow. It sank into the creatures head and brought it stumbling down off the rock. Between Thorin and Dwalin, they finished the warg and its rider. It only made matters worse, however, when the dwarves took off, no longer able to hide behind the rock. They were surrounded. Utterly surrounded.

Naerwyn was shocked when Fili scooped her up, but grateful for it. There was no way she could have run on her own. She watched his face while he ran, her stomach twisting painfully. Her heart fluttered in her chest and she found herself feeling faint. Was it the injuries? No. She knew why she felt this way. This handsome dwarf made her feel that way. She was being carried by a young Prince. Isn't that every girl's fantasy? She obeyed him and held on tightly, her face nuzzled against the fur of his collar.

Thorin was at a loss for what to do until Gandalf appeared again, urging them all to follow him. Thorin lead the men to the rock and watched them dive down the hole Gandalf had found to hide in. When Fili approached, he held his arms out to take her. "Get down there! We will follow!"

Ammie tried her best not to yelp out in fright when Kili shot the warg and it landed, rider and all, in front of the group. She and Bilbo clasped each other frantically, trying their best to get up and out of the way so the dwarves could make short work of their enemy. Ammie had never seen anything killed in front of her before, so it was a shocking experience to say the least. But even if she was frightened, she had to admit that the Durin family was extremely...(And she meant extremely!)...Impressive. Her awe was short-lived however, since more orcs on wargs appeared and began surrounding the party. The wargs barked and snarled vilely, and the dwarves huddled together with their weapons at ready for any futher attack.

Naerwyn's face against Fili's collar gave him a brief thrill, but it was overwhelmed by the nervous adrenaline pumping through his veins. Just as he thought their quest might be lost, Gandalf reappeared from a cavern under a nearby boulder. “Down here, you fools!” he cried, moving aside for the dwarves to hurl themselves into the chasm. He held up his glowing staff to trigger a spell placed on the rock. Bilbo slid down first, followed by Ammie, and the other dwarves followed suit. Fili cursed under his breath, glancing frantically to the hole. He did not want give Naerwyn to his uncle, but someone would have to be ready to catch her at the bottom. He growled and pressed the injured elf into Thorin's arms and threw himself down the hole.

Thorin could be heard talking frantically to Naerwyn, trying to gauge where she was wounded. When he got the answer he wanted, he explained to her what she needed to do. He placed Naerwyn on her left side and lowered her down as far as he could. She was shocked at how careful he was being. She half expected him to use her as bait for the wargs to consume while they got away. He counted to three and released Naerwyn's hands. She didn't slide very far until her booted feet hit the bottom of the cavern. She moved sideways as fast as she could to allow Thorin the room to slide down himself.

They heard horns and the sound of pure slaughter coming from above, but didn't stick around long enough to find out what it was all about. Naerwyn reached for Fili, her eyes begging him to help her up.

They were going to move through the pathway despite not knowing where it let out and, really, if it was safe.

Fili only had eyes for Naerwyn, when Thorin lowered her into the cavern with the rest. Of course, he was happy that his uncle had dropped to safety as well, but he was more keen to scoop the elf woman back up into his arms. He did so immediately as she reached to him, even if perhaps she could have limped along with some support. A real gentleman would not allow an injured beauty to walk, after all! That was how he rationialized it to himself, anyway.

Ammie grasped Uncle Bilbo's arm tightly and clung close to him as they moved down the stone corridor. Just where were they going, anyhow? There was light, as cliché as it sounded, at the end of the tunnel...And as the approached the end, the hobbit's heart raced with both anticipation and dread. Gandalf, however, knew exactly where the path let out. In fact, he'd planned their destination long before now, prior even to the dwarves' encounter with the trolls.

According to Gandalf's carefully-laid plan, the group emerged on a protruding cliff... Lining a mountainside. Before them stretched a steep river valley and, with it, the breathtaking elven city of... "Rivendell," Bilbo breathed with awe. He'd read about it extensively in his books, and to have such a legendary place filling his eyes was almost too much to bear. Ammie grinned, face bright with excitement as she twisted Bilbo's sleeve tightly between her fingers.

"Here we can rest," Gandalf informed the others. "Replenish our supplies. Lord Elrond will know how to read the map and show us the secret entrance to Erebor." Fili beamed down at Naerwyn dashingly. "And you, fair one...They'll surely fix you right up," he murmured.

Naerwyn didn't make much noise while they moved through the stone pathway. She kept her face tucked in Fili's collar, her eyes closed. She felt safe. After all that excitement and terror, she finally felt safe. There in the arms of a powerful man. When they emerged, she picked her head up to see where she was. A wide grin broke out on her face when Rivendell came into her sight. Her kin would heal her wounds. She would be like new again.

Naerwyn looked up to Fili when he spoke softly to her. Her smile faltered some. When they arrived, she would go off with the healers. And the dwarves? Surely Thorin wouldn't allow them to stay in Rivendell. That would be absurd! She worried that she would never see Fili again after these last few moments.

Thorin wasn't as glad to see the city as the others were. He grumbled and looked up to Gandalf, "This was your plan all along, wasn't it? Whether we had picked up our latest burden or not, you meant to bring us here." This was getting ridiculous! First he finds an elf in the woods, then he must go crawling on hand and knees to them?! This was getting out of hand! But it seemed he was at a loss. For after Gandalf scolded him like a child, again, he might add, they headed down the stone path to a bridge. They crossed single file into Rivendell, most of them visibly uncomfortable and twitchy.

“Now, this meeting will take tact and no short amount of charm...” Gandalf said to the others as they approached the elven dwelling. “Which is why I shall be doing the talking.” He gave Thorin an especially long, meaningful look.

The stone bridge led to a circular platform, just in front a flight of stairs leading to the main city center. There were two elf sentries situated at the bottom of the stairway, guarding the entrance to Rivendell. As the group neared the sentries, a third elf that Gandalf recognized stepped down to greet them at the head of the platform.

“Mithrandir,” he said. “This is unexpected.” His brow drifted upwards as he regarded the eccentric group. His vision was met with dwarves, one of which bore what appeared to be an injured elf woman, and--he did a double-take--two hobbits?

“We would like to speak to Lord Elrond,” Gandalf informed him pleasantly.

“Lord Elrond is not here,” he replied. “He--”

The elf did not finish his statement, for no sooner had he spoken than a host of elven soldiers on horses galloped around the side of the mountain. Fili gripped Naerwyn in alarm, holding her flush against his chest for protection as the riders came across the stony bridge. Their horses circled the dwarven company, forcing them into the center of their formation.

Thorin didn't say a word while Gandalf talked to the pretty boy that came down to greet them. He rolled his eyes and turned away from them, not wanting to forget himself and slip up with a comment or a gesture.

It wasn't until they heard the horns and the galloping hooves did Thorin say anything, "CLOSE RANKS!" He called over the loud sound of galloping and pgave Kili a push toward the middle of the circle. He stood ready with his sword just in case the elves decided they were a threat.

Naerwyn was happy to be in Rivendell and made to get down, but when the soldiers came galloping in, she found herself trapped in Fili's arms. She gasped lightly when he squeezed her tight to his chest and found herself blushing. She gently tried to pry herself out of his arms, whimpering quietly. To the soldiers, it may have appeared she was some sort of prisoner. She looked worried while she gently tried to wiggle her way out of Fili's grasp. She didn't, exactly want to be away from him, but she wanted to make her presence known to her kin. She needed their aid, after all.

An elf atop a large white horse was the last to gallop in. His brown hair was swept back away from his face in the typical elven fashion. Fanciful braids and twists ran through his brown locks. His face, however, was not quite so standard elf. It was slightly aged. Aged? Yes, aged. He was Half-Elven. There was no other explanation.

A wide smile broke out on his face, "Gandalf!" He climbed down off of his horse and strode toward the wizard, a strange looking sword in his hands, "What brings you to Rivendell, old friend?" At first, he seemed to pay no mind to the dwarves, the hobbits, or the injured elf in the middle of them. He simply went to his friend and offered him a sort of half hug a a greeting.

Gandalf returned his old friend's embrace warmly. He was truly, genuinely pleased to see Elrond again after all this time. “Well, we were just in the neighborhood,” he said, leaning on his staff and glancing back at his party of dwarves, hobbits, and now an elf. “We were pursued by orcs,” he said after a measured silence, returning his attention to Elrond. “It seems that before finding us, they attacked one of your own.” He beckoned towards Fili and Naerwyn. “Come here, please, young lady.” Fili hesitated to release Naerwyn, but from the way she squirmed in his arms it seemed she wanted to be let down. He placed her on her feet gently, holding her arm to steady her. He eventually let go so that she could walk over to Elrond to be examined.

Bilbo, meanwhile, gazed around himself in rapture. He looked first at the regal elves atop their steeds, up at the picturesque elven settlement jutting into the sky above him, and finally the legendary elf king Elrond conversing with Gandalf the Grey. The hobbit wanted to wriggle through the grouping of dwarves to the front and outright gush his admiration for the elf and all the stories he'd heard about him, but repressed those urges seeing as his niece was entirely plastered to his arm with excitement of her own. However, at this particular moment she was staring curiously at Thorin's irate expression. Clearly he did not hold any reverence for the elven leader in their wake.

Naerwyn gave Fili a tender glance and got slowly to her feet. She swayed lightly, glad to have Fili steadying her. She took a few steps forward, hobbling awfully. At first, her legs were numb and she couldn't feel much. She was happy to be alive and nothing now could stop her from getting to Lord Elrond. Her heart fluttered with excitement. Everything was going to be alright now.

Only she never made it to him. The pain in her hip was excruciating and finally, it was too much. Her legs buckled underneath her and she began to fall. Though, she never hit the ground. A strong arm came across her middle, snatching her before she fell. It would shock the lot of them.

Thorin had caught Naerwyn before she fell, but he wasn't sure if it was reflex or a serious intent on not letting anymore harm come to her. Perhaps both? If he let her fall, the elves would blame him. He knew they would. Even if he were ten feet away from Naerwyn. If she hit the ground in his presence, it would be all his fault. For that was how the Elves were! Soo ready to blame others for their own problems. Always crying out for help, but never returning the favor. "Steady, girl," he grumbled irritably, "You're too weak to walk on your own."

Lord Elrond nodded at what Gandalf had said and passed the strange blade to Lindir, the elf that greeted them, "Strange for orcs to come so close to our borders." He was shocked, though, when Gandalf pointed out the elleth in their ranks. She was badly hurt, that much was obvious. He wasn't sure how badly, however. That he would know soon.

Elrond jerked forward when she began to fall, his heart in his throat. He sighed very lightly with relief when one of the Dwarves caught her. Ah, he knew this dwarf. "Welcome, Thorin, son of Thrain," he said as he took Naerwyn from Thorin's arms. The two had a brief conversation about Thorin's carrying his Grandfather's bearing. He scooped Naerwyn up effortlessly and placed her in the arms of Lindir, "Take her, immediately, to the Healers. Waste no time, Lindir. She is badly wounded."

He turned back to the Company and gave them all a warm smile. He spoke in his native tongue and with a cheeky smirk, waited for their reactions.