The Undecided Title Of Sara Miller *Hobbit Fanfiction* (Thorin/OC)

Chapter 42: Stolen

"Are you telling me you still have a knife hidden away?"

"I do, but only for emergencies. It's not really suitable for fighting but could cut a rope well enough."

As much as Thorin wanted to be quit of his bonds he could see Fili's wisdom in not using the blade. Even if he were to get his hands free there was no real escape from these elves, for they had to stay on the path or risk being forever lost in this forest. With the orcs behind and the elves ahead, they were hemmed in. The elves were clearly the lesser of two evils, but it was some comfort to know that in dire situations they had a means to at least escape their bonds. A laugh drew his attention back to Sara. Sara and her fool notions of peace between elves and dwarves. Why make peace with the elves if they would be at the mountain to help defeat the orc and Goblin armies anyway. The book so declared, despite the ill parting of the company from the elf king. They still won the battle, and he would be more cautious and aware now that he knew of his possible peril. Why debase himself if it was not necessary. But despite disagreeing with her, he enjoyed the fire with which she spoke of her plan.

He had grown worried for Sara and Bilbo when the food had been depleted. Little did he wish to see her weak or ill when his natural inclination was to protect and care for her. He just hadn't expected the desire to care and protect to be reciprocated and such a forceful way. In a sense he supposed that was part of her charm, her streak of fire. Sara was hardly ever intimidated, and certainly not by him. On the contrary she had proved herself quite vivacious when it came to those she cared for, and she would fight tooth and nail to see her will done. Dwarvish women were far from demure and could charge into battle if the dire need ever arose, but none had ever shown such cander with him as had Sara. Where most only saw his position as king, Sara was unafraid to talk to him like any other being, and he liked the openness for a change... most of the time at any rate. So it galled him to see Sara talk so easily and freely with their elf captors. He noted how she and the hobbit were careful to avoid sensitive subjects, diverting the elves questions with questions of their own. Thorin could tell that the elf prince was aware of her tactics but had given up trying to pry information from her and now let her talk freely. The more she talked the more the elf's interest was peaked and the more attention he paid her.

Out of habit Thorin ganced to the sky he could not see, but despite not knowing the sun's position he knew they were nearing the end of the day's march. The webs strung thought out the trees were a source of worry, especially without the familiar weight of Ocrist at his side and his hands bound. The elf prince's blatant disbelief in the spider attacks was unnerving. Thorin knew elf magic to be powerful and long-lasting, but for the prince to completely dismiss their claims merely based on his faith in the magic seemed folly. He could tell he was not the only one in the party concerned with the increasing webs for when he looked back, many of the others' eyes darted here and there, ever searching and alert. Their elf captors however, marched on with utter confidence, wholy relying on the path's magic; that is, all save the female captain of the guard. Thorin watched the group ahead of him and as Sara and Bilbo's unease grew, the she-elf watched them and waxed more cautious, her eyes scanning the forest around them for any approaching threat.

A little under an hour later they halted for the day at yet another of the elf made camps. The company was once again ordered to sit along the edge of the square stone. After several minutes Fili elbowed him surreptitiously. Thorin looked over at him and Fili quietly nodded his head towards Dwalin. The warrior did not look well, his face ashen as he held his shoulder painfully. Oin's gaze on him was clearly concerned.

"What's wrong with you?" asked Ruven, nudging Dwalin's foot as he peered down at him. "Can't handle a walk through the woods?" Dwalin glared up at the elf but didn't speak.