'Lost Without You'- A Thorin Oakenshield Fanfic

Chapter 1

Helloooo lovelies!
Song for this chapter is.... "Like I Can" by Sam Smith! Woot woot! Enjoy, please comment and vote!
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Fili and Kili were being idiots. Pure, immature, unadulterated idiots.

The two dwarves had taken it upon themselves to provide entertainment for the Company that morning whilst Bombur prepared breakfast, by impersonating members of the group. The others were taking it in turns to guess who was being imitated. Currently Fili was stomping around with a feral look on his face, miming chopping at things and shaking his fist, whilst Kili narrated. "Grrr grrr grrr!"

The remaining dwarves collapsed into laughter, howling at the ridiculous impressions.

"Dwalin!" Guesses Bofur, hat on his head, and the laughter resumed when his answer was confirmed correct. Dwalin stood nearby, shaking his head, but you could see he was trying not to smile. Even Gandalf and Bilbo were chuckling at the ridiculous impressions.

Kili's turn came next. Crouching to his knees he waddles around like a duck, as Fili calls out, "Heeelp! Heeelp! I've forgotten my pocket handkerchief!"

"Bilbo!" Everyone cries, overcome by mirth, and the pair begin their next impression. Looking away for a moment, chuckles echoing within your throat, you see Thorin standing a distance away from everyone else. There's something clutched within his hands;  a key, carved with dwarvish runes. Thorin twists it around inbetween his fingers, utterly lost in thought.

As though he feels your stare, he catches your eye, and you look awkwardly away back toward the group. Fili now struts around, flipping his hair and turning up his nose.

"Everyone who isn't me is a peasant," Kili says in a growly voice, obviously imitating his Uncle. "My majesty knows no bounds. I'm also secretly in love with-"

"That's enough." Thorin's voice calls across the clearing, silencing the cacophany.

"We were only mucking about-" argues Fili, but a gesture from his uncle quiets him again.

"Listen," Thorin murmurs, turning in the direction of the sun, which had begun to peek out from behind the mountains in the distance, yellow against the dusky pink sky.

A faint howling sound can be heard over the steep snowy hills, and it is quickly joined by more. Ice cold fear seeped into your heart like freezing water, constricting inside your chest.

Azog.

"Put that fire out!" Thorin growls, and Bofur quickly overturns the pot of boiling soup onto the flames, quenching them. Ignoring Bombur's protests at the ruined dinner, he flaps his arms around, trying to dispel the tendril of smoke reaching up into the peach-coloured sky.

"Gather your packs, we must go!" Gandalf calls, and everyone hurriedly repacks, gathering in a huddle to await further instructions.

"This way!" Gandalf announces, leading you all towards a rocky crest in the distance. The ominous baying sounds were growing more frequent, and picking up your pace, you hurry after your companions, hand clutched around your sword's hilt.

You and the Company continue to race away from the approaching chilling cries, occasionally stopping to check for any advancing shapes. Eventually you holed up amongst some large rocks situated close together, and Thorin had sent Bilbo to scout at a nearby hill. The tiny hobbit quickly returns, huffing and puffing, both from exertion and fear.

"How close is the pack?" Thorin questions him harshly. You open your mouth to object on the roughness of his tone. But on second thoughts, after a moment of indecision, you hold your tongue. Thorin is just trying to protect everyone from harm, and there is no use clashing with him at such a dangerous time. Not when the fate of the Company balanced on a knife's edge.