Book 2: Hanging On [Thorin Oakenshield]

Chapter 1

For four months the company had been on the road if Poppy's numbers were correct. Escaping the Goblins and Orc pack only days ago hadn't made things easier as hoped. They were tracked across the Wild needing to hide whenever the time came. To be sure Azog and the Orc pack didn't grow too close. There had been one too many times of almost being discovered as the days passed and without a decent supply of weapons they were as good as dead if this lasted much longer.

Scratching absently at the bandage still wrapped around her eye the Half-breed waited nervously with the others for Bilbo to return with news from his scout. As the quietest out of the lot it made the most sense. And his ability to move about unseen was a great asset. The gash had been healing fairly slowly even though they managed to keep it clean. But with limited supplies there wasn't much that could be done. The cut itself didn't bother her, the pain vanished some time ago. The fact she was unable to see out of one eye made the blacksmith nervous. The bandage left the Half-breed completely blind on the right should something attack. And there were times when her depth perception became off when climbing down inclines. In those instances, Dwalin assisted. She hated feeling useless. Especially without her tools that were sadly left behind in the Goblin caves. Of what use was she to the company now? Though with barely any weapons... The Dwarves didn't exactly need assistance. The shifting of rocks drew their attention as Bilbo came sliding down the small path to join them.

"How close is the Orc pack?" Thorin asked quickly.

"Too close," he answered. "A couple of leagues, no more. But that's not the worst of it."

"Have the Wargs picked up our scent?" Dwalin questioned.

"Not yet. But they will. We have another problem."

"Did they see you?" Gandalf cut in. "They saw you."

"No, that's not it–"

The company breathed a sigh of relief. Though Poppy could see the growing frustration on her cousin's face at the fact that none bothered to listen to what he had to say.

"What did I tell you? As quiet as a mouse," the Wizard praised. "Excellent burglar material."

"Will you listen!" Bilbo finally shouted, silencing their brief merriment. "I'm trying to tell you there is something else out there!"

None were smiling anymore. In fact, a few grew pale with worry. What else besides the Orc pack could be lurking out here?

"What form did it take?" the older man asked gravely. "Like a bear?"

"Ye-Yes," the Hobbit looked at Gandalf in mild surprise that he guessed so easily. "But bigger. Much bigger."

The dread that passed over the Wizard's features did not go unnoticed by the others. He turned to mull over his thoughts.

"You knew about this beast?" Bofur asked. He received no answer. "I say we double back."

"And be run down by a pack of Orcs?" Thorin pointed out.

Where on earth could they go without being in danger for one night? They all grew weary, none having a proper night's rest for days and hunger started to take effect only hours ago.

"There is a house..." Gandalf cut in and turned to face them once more. "It's not far from here where we might take refuge."

"Whose house?" Thorin asked cautiously. "Are they friend or foe?"

"Neither. He will help us... or he will kill us."

That declaration didn't sit well with the company as they waited for their leader to make a decision.