Thorin is woken early that morning by someone's strong grip on his shoulder.
He's up like a shot, Orcrist in hand, narrowly missing Bofur as the other dwarf steps back quickly. "What is it?" he asks, voice hoarse from sleep, but his mind is sharp as his eyes spin around their camp. It's barely dawn, and only Bofur and Bombur are up and about; the former, Thorin remembers, had third watch, while the latter is preparing breakfast for the Company.
"I was—I was doing a quick headcount, seeing as there aren't any threats in the area," Bofur says, nodding around at the dwarves scattered at various distances from the fire. "And—the lads aren't here."
"What?"
Surely the two of them have just gone to relieve themselves and will be back in a moment? Thorin glances to where their bedrolls are laid out, several paces from the fire; the blankets are done up as if someone were lying there, but sure enough, Fíli and Kíli are not there.
And, most damning, their weapons are missing as well.
"When did you notice?" he asks, lowering but not sheathing his sword as he steps quickly toward the empty bedrolls. There must be a logical explanation for this—but he can come up with nothing, especially when they are this close to Mirkwood. Surely, despite how rash his nephews can be at times, they have enough sense not to run off by themselves into the trees.
"Near half an hour ago," Bofur says, hurrying to keep up with Thorin as he runs the perimeter. "I thought they might have just gone off to water some trees, but none of their weapons are here, so—"
Aye," Thorin says, his brow furrowed, and something like worry unfurls uncomfortably in his gut. He's always worried for Fíli and Kíli in dangerous situations—after all, he all but raised them, and he knows he would rather die than return to Dís and have to tell her that her sons were slain. But they are grown dwarves (if rather young compared to the rest), and they have long since been able to take care of themselves.
So where are they now?
"Did you notice anything strange during your watch?" he asks Bofur quickly, his gaze spanning the Company quickly before settling on Gandalf. He knows that the wizard rarely sleeps, that he often knows more than he lets on; if Bofur—and Balin and Nori, first and second watch—don't have any information for him—
"Nothing at all. Quiet as a mouse," Bofur says, shrugging helplessly and looking equal parts apologetic and worried. "If they left the camp, I reckon it would have been before my watch started, not that that's any help to you, I suppose—"
Thorin is only half-listening as he strides purposefully toward the wizard. Radagast is sitting a few paces away, humming quietly to himself and petting one of his giant rabbits as he rummages through his pockets for something. "Gandalf," Thorin says in an undertone, though his voice is no less thunderous, "do you know where my nephews are?"
"Hmm?" Gandalf lifts his chin from its position on his chest, peering up at Thorin for a moment with one eyebrow raised. "Are they not asleep?"
"Their bedrolls are empty," Thorin says tersely, his patience already stretched thin, "and their weapons are gone."
Gandalf frowns deeply before levering himself up with his staff, casting a cursory glance across the camp before returning his attention to Thorin. "I did not see them leave, nor did I see anyone approach during the night," he says, and if Thorin isn't mistaken, there is something like worry in the wizard's gaze as well. "Radagast, did you notice anything—?"
But the other wizard isn't paying them the slightest bit of attention; there is a deep frown on his face as he continues searching through his pockets, clearly missing something as animal droppings and scraps of parchment are thrown every which way in his haste. "Not good, not good," he's muttering to himself, and his rabbits stand at attention, staring at him as if awaiting orders to help him search.
