For the Sake of Kings (Thorin x OC x Aragorn romance)

5. Time to Rest

Night had fallen and the company settled on a low cliff in the shelter of a rocky overhang, most already asleep on the outskirts of the campfire. Thorin's nephews, Fili and Kili, were sitting against the stone, smoking as they kept an ear out for danger. I had settled near the ponies, away from the fire to keep an eye on the path we'd come from.

I heard a small gasp from among the pile of dwarves and turned to find Bilbo sitting up, watching for a moment as Bombur snored, breathing moths in and out of his mouth. With a disgusted look, the hobbit stood and walked over to where I sat, standing in front of the pony that had carried him here and passing her an apple, whispering praise. A small smile broke over my lips at the sight, glad he'd gotten more comfortable with the pony since Fili and Kili had hoisted him onto her after he'd joined the company; much to his dismay.

A screech far below us made him jump, and he span to look out over the cliff as I sat straighter, peering through the darkness with my enhanced eyesight. I watched some shadows that moved over the plains below, illuminated slightly by the moonlight. For the hobbit's benefit, I was glad he wouldn't be able to see them. He shot me a glance of fear before scurrying closer to the fire, leaning slightly towards where the brothers sat and asking what the noise was.

Kili seemed to think for a moment, glancing from the hobbit, out into the darkness, and back. "Orcs.." he finally answered. I looked to his brother beside him and saw the corner of his lips twitch.
"Orcs?" Bilbo squeaked. Thorin jolted awake and glanced around, scanning around camp for the danger associated with the word.

Fili spoke up. "Throat-cutters. There'll be dozens of them out there."

Even in the light of the fire, I could see Bilbo pale slightly as Kili added further.
"The lone-lands are crawling with them. They strike in the small hours when everyone's asleep. Quick and quiet, no screams. Just lots of blood." He gave Bilbo a grave look as he finished the visual, and as Bilbo looked back over the cliff, the brothers shared smirks of amusement.

Thorin stood, shooting a glare at the boys.
"You think that's funny? You think a night raid by Orcs is a joke?" he growled at the two as he walked away from them. Bilbo turned to look at him, then at the boys, whose smirks were slowly dropping from their faces.

"We meant nothing by it.." Kili's tone was apologetic, but Thorin's expression didn't soften.

"No you didn't. You know nothing of the world."

Thorin stopped a few feet away from where I sat, the shadows over his face hiding his expression as he faced me. Behind him, Balin got up to stand near the fire, addressing Fili and Kili.
"Don't mind him, laddie. Thorin has more cause than most to hate orcs. After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain..." he explained, going into the story of how Thror, Thrain, and Thorin had led them to Moria to retake it.

Thorin moved closer to me, nearly toe to toe, but I looked away from him, looking back down the pathway. Beside me, he turned his head and listened quietly as Balin finished his explanation.

At the end, Bilbo spoke up, asking about what happened to Azog, the pale orc who Thorin had severed an arm from. Thorin faced the group fully, finding the other dwarves had woken up and were standing, watching him in awe and respect. He walked back towards the fire, acknowledging his company with nods as he answered Bilbo.
"He slunk back into the hole whence he came. That filth died of his wounds long ago."

Looking at them again, I relaxed back against the tree I'd been sitting against before the orc's screech, watching as Thorin sat against a boulder near the fire again. His gaze met mine, an unreadable expression on his face as we stared into each others eyes for a moment. I turned my face away once more and tilted my head back against the bark, closing my eyes and feeling my thoughts fade into sleep.