Chapter 4

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It took them a decent amount of time to reach the edge of the civilized area around the Shire. The first night they spent camping in the wild was not exactly relaxing for poor Bilbo. He couldn't sleep and eventually got up to feed his pony, whom he had gotten quite attached to.

Thraya sat between Fili and Kili by the fire. They chatted and joked quietly for quite some time until a loud screeching sound rent the air.

Thraya was instantly on alert, her sword in hand.

"W-what was that?" Bilbo demanded.

"Orcs," Kili said as another cry was heard.

"Orcs?"

"Throat-cutters," Fili explained. "There will be dozens of them out there. The lowlands are crawling with them."

"They strike in the wee small hours when everyone's asleep," Kili added. "Quick and quiet. No screams. Just lots of blood."

Thraya stood up and smacked the back of his head.

"You think that's funny?" Thorin demanded. "You think a night raid by orcs is a joke?"

"We didn't mean anything by it," Kili said apologetically.

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

For good measure, Thraya smacked Fili as well and followed Thorin away from the rest of the group.

She heard Balin begin the tale of the battle of Moria.

"You know, he's told me this tale every time I was alone with him."

Thorin let out an exasperated sigh. "It wasn't nearly as glorious as he makes it out to be."

"I'm sure, but you can't blame him." She wrapped her arm around him and leaned against his arm. "He idolizes you. And right now, as he tells this tale, the rest of the company will see you with much more respect. They will follow you to the end."

Thorin rested his head on hers. "I'm so lucky to have you, nathith. How did I get so lucky?"

"No, I am the lucky one here. You took in my mother. The Valar rewarded you. And in doing so, gave me the best father this world has known."

"And I thought to myself," Balin's voice carried over the silence. "There is one I could follow."

Thraya whispered along with Balin's voice, the words she had heard him say many times before. "There is one I could call King."

"He's done now," Thraya pointed out helpfully. "We can go back."

Thorin kept his arm around her shoulders as they turned back to the group. As Thraya had predicted, every eye was upon him with newfound respect. It was too much for Thorin to take. He strode quickly back to his bedroll.

"And the pale orc?" Bilbo asked Balin as Thorin passed the fire.

"He slunk back into the hole whence he came. That filth died of his wounds long ago."

Thraya caught the uneasy look on Gandalf's face. Azog didn't seem like the kind of creature to die from a missing arm.

She resumed her place between the two idiot brothers and threw an arm over each of their shoulders.

"So, boys," she said, yanking both of them suddenly. "Are we going to joke about orcs again?"

"Ow!" Fili protested. Kili laughed.

"Have we learned our lesson?" she asked, with a cheerful tone, but threatening all the same. She punctuated her question by tugging on Kili's hair.

"Ow! Ow! Ok! Ok! Stop!" Kili shrieked.

"We're sorry!" Fili shouted. "Ok? We're sorry!"

Thraya released them, ruffling their heads a bit roughly.

She could hear Thorin chuckling from his place across the camp.

"Ok, but seriously, boys. Orcs are bad. Repeat after me: Orcs. Are. Bad."

Fili and Kili exchanged looks before tackling Thraya.

"Boys!" she laughed. "Get off me!"

Fili laughed as Kili rumpled her hair. "There," the younger brother said. "Now it's even."

Thraya faked a pout. "You ruined my hair."

Kili ran his hand through her curls, letting them bounce back into place. "Looks fine to me."

"Alright, children," Balin finally said. "It's time you get some sleep."

As they settled down, Thraya chose to curl up against Fili's arm. The elder heir of Durin's line looked at the younger with a smugly self-satisfied look on his face. Kili just rolled his eyes.

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