Love Takes Flight (Kili Fanfiction - Book 1) - SLOWLY EDITING!!

Chapter 7 - Balin's Story

We traveled through woods, over hills, and across plains. I would talk to the Dwarves, asking them questions about different things. None of them asked about me, which I was thankful for. I wanted to keep my past hidden for as long as possible. We stopped at a clearing to rest when it got dark. Dori made a fire while Bombur made dinner for everyone. One by one, the Dwarves started going to bed, leaving Kili, Fili, and I sitting around the fire. Gandalf sat off by himself against a tree. We sat in silence, Kili and Fili often exchanging a few words in Dwarvish. Every once in a while, Kili and I would catch the other staring or sending glances, which resulted in small smiles and blushing. Thinking about Kili reminded me of what had happened back at Bag-End, of how we had almost kissed. Then I remembered that I had found a blanket draped over me this morning and I still hadn't found out who had done it. "Someone wrapped a blanket around me last night, but I don't remember putting it there myself. Do either of you know who it was?" I asked the two brothers. Fili shook his head while Kili turned pink.

"Actually, I did. I was walking past and I saw that the window was open and you looked a little bit cold. So I wrapped a blanket around you," Kili admitted, shyly. I smiled at him, whispering a small 'thanks' as my eyelids drooped.

"You look tired. Why don't you go sleep? One of us will wake you when it's time to leave," Fili offered, while smoking his pipe.

I shook my head, "I can't. Not if Bombur is going to snore like that all night." We all looked in the direction of where he was sleeping, seeing bugs fly out of his mouth when he exhaled, then back in when he inhaled.

"Well here, why don't you come sit next to me? His snoring isn't as loud and you could use my shoulder as a pillow," suggested Kili. I nodded slightly before getting up and sitting down next to him. Our sides were pressed together as I leaned into him, wrapping my two arms around his left one. I closed my eyes, getting comfortable. He laughed, "Do you always hug your pillow?" I nodded again, hearing him chuckle one more time as I slowly started falling asleep.

There was a loud screeching in the distance and I quickly sat up, "What was that?" Fili and Kili looked in the direction of the sound, alarmed.

"Orcs," Kili muttered.

"Throat-cutters. There'll be dozens of them out there," Fili explained, though I knew well what an Orc was.

"The lone-lands are crawling with them. They strike in the wee small hours when everyone's asleep. Quick and quiet, no screams. Just lots of blood," Kili muttered. He looked over at his brother who smiled as he chuckled.

Thorin stood up, "You think that's funny? You think a night raid by Orcs is a joke?"

"We didn't mean anything by it," Kili admitted, looking ashamed of himself.

"No you didn't. You know nothing of the world," Thorin said, walking away.

I elbowed Kili in the ribs, whispering, "That wasn't funny."

"Don't mind him, laddie," Balin said, coming up next to where Fili sat. "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. But our enemy had gotten there first. 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. 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. 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. Our forces rallied and drove the Orcs back. And 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. And I thought to myself then, there is one I could follow. There is one I could call King." At the end of Balin's story, I looked over at Thorin, clenching onto Kili's hand tightly. Everyone was awake now and staring at Thorin, having heard the story as well. It took a few minutes for my brain to register the question that was brewing in my mind.

"And the pale Orc? What happened to him?"

"He slunk back into the hole whence he came. That filth died of his wounds long ago," Thorin asserted, his voice full of disgust. I noticed Balin look over at Gandalf, sharing a look as if they knew something that no one else did.

I OWN NOTHING BUT MY CHARACTER!