When the smoke clears, the company can only see a pile of ash and what's left of the branch.

And under it, just barely visible, blackened fur. Gandalf leans in for a closer look, and sees that there is but a skeleton left of the branch. And below it lies the warg. It is soon evident, as it struggles for breath, that its ribs are broken. Dwalin nudges it with his foot, and it curls itself inward at the touch.

"It won't be alive for much longer." Says Gloin.

Kili nods bitterly.

They all stared at it, uncertain of what to say or do, now that they have just about succeeded in their hunt.

Ori, curious, stepped forward and examines it all around. "You know," He says quietly, "I thought that warg's eyes were always brown."

"They are." Says Balin.

"Well," Says Ori, "These aren't."

Sure enough, the half closed eyes are bright blue color.

"Uncle's eyes were blue..." Says Fili, remembering Thorin.

"Uncle!" Says Kili suddenly. "Fili, do you think Uncle Thorin would be proud of us?"

Fili straightens. "Yes, Kee. We did him proud, we avenged him. That thing," He gestures to the warg-

"Can barely get out a good breath, it'll be gone soon."

"I'll get rid of it." Says Gandalf.

He stands over the unmoving form, and whispers in a language the company does not understand,

"Depart us, creature of darkness, so we may have light,

begone and rid us of your presence."

There is a bright blue flash of light, and then it disappears as quickly as it came.

The company starts to turn away.

But they stop.

Fili and Kili are the first ones to turn around and rush back to Thorin, who now lies, inconscious, not that far from where they had stood.

They are flabbergasted.

They are also speechless with joy.

Oin pushes through the crowd of dwarves. "Give him some space!" He admonishes. "He's clearly injured-"

"Is he going to be alright, Oin?" Asked Fili anxiously.

"Well, he's badly burned-" Oin responds.

"How ever would he get burned?" Asked Kili.

"I do not know. Very strange. Now, I'll have to be honest with you-"

But Fili and Kili can't restrain themselves and each grab their Uncle's hand, Kili on the right, Fili on the left, and Thorin stirs at the touch.

Kili suddenly notices something on Thorin's hand. A wound. Long and jagged. "Say, look at this, " He murmurs. "This wound looks like a lot like the one I gave that warg. Odd."

"Yeah, pretty strange," Says Fili. "Hey, Oin, when did you say he would wake up?"

Oin and Gloin, however, exchange quite an alarmed look with Dwalin.

"Oh, no." Says Gloin breathlessly.

"You don't think..." Exclaims Dwalin.

"Gandalf's spell turned the warg into Thorin!"

"What? You think so?" Asks Dori, suddenly yanking Ori away from their leader.

The company debates this among themselves, except for Fili and Kili, who, with a glance and a shrug at the others, continue to silently and rather impatiently wait for their uncle to awaken.

"How would your spell do that, anyway?" Asks Balin to Gandalf.

"It wouldn't," Answers Gandalf. "Unless, of course, he was the warg to begin with. But that would be-"

He freezes.

Balin catches on. "You don't mean to say..."

"It just might make sense..."

Balin looks back at where the company is still arguing. He looks at Thorin's unmoving shape.

It was exactly where the warg was, he realizes.

"Everyone!" Balin yells, surprising them all, including himself at the volume of his voice.

"We have reason to believe that we may have been hunting our own the entire time." He says, glancing at Thorin.

The company falls silent.

"Impossible." Says Dori.

"I would know if it had been him." Insists Dwalin.

"Dwalin, you couldn't possibly have known." Responds Gandalf, shaking his head at him.

Kili, however, stares down at his uncle's hand in horror.

"You mean to say that I did this?" He whispers.

"You did, we all saw you." Said Ori, who believes Balin and Gandalf.

"I don't think that's what he meant." Responds Nori.

Oin notices some dried blood on Thorin's sleeve, and slits it open with a knife, to reveal a large, festering wound.

Fili's eyes widen at the sight, and Kili keeps staring at the hand with the wound wordlessly.

It is not much longer, before Thorin's eyes open suddenly, and he takes a deep, shuddering breath.

"Fili...? Kili...?" He whispers hoarsely.

For one moment, Kili's eyes shine with delight.

"He knows us! It is him!" Fili says.

He opens his eyes.

His first instinct is to get up and run, but his limbs feel like they're a thousand years old, and his hands are-

Wait, his hands?!

Yes, his hands. His hands feel like their being clamped by vises, but their not, their other hands, hands of those he knows very well.

He wants Kili and Fili to let go, they're going to suffocate his hand, but that doesn't make sense, so he just twitches his hands, and for the first time in three days, Kili and Fili understand him, and loosen their grip. Then he flexes his hand, because it's his hand again.

Do they know? He wonders.

He glances up, and glances at Dwalin, and Dwalin looks away. Yes, they do.

Dwalin felt Thorin's eyes on him, calm and unreadable, and he has to look away. He has to, after what he said, what he nearly did

"Uncle, we-we-" Begins Kili, at a loss for words.

He doesn't know what to say, but he can only say, "No, you didn't know..." He says. Never has he been so tired...trying to stay awake, and there are flashes of black before it goes dark.

When he wakes up, he's back at camp, he can feel bandages under his garments, and now only Fili a and Kili are there, and when they see he's woken, they each take his hands, and they pull him up, and they just stare at eachother. Finally, Thorin slowly, stiffly, opens his arms, and they wrap him in a tight embrace. And even though his ribs hurt like crazy, he never wants to let go, and neither do they.

A/N: Merry Christmas!