Here is the second chapter! I may just be getting back into this writing thing yet...but no promises ;)

And although writing Ori is awesome I would love to read about Ori too (hint hint)

Disclaimers are the same, I have nothing save the ideas in my head, all dwarves and wizard belong to the people who own them.

The room was quiet, five dwarves waiting in a tense silence occasionally broken by the creaking of boots on the floor, feet shifting towards the door.

Dori sat hunched on room's small bed, a half opened pack next to him. He lifted his gaze to his younger brother Nori who, earlier, had tossed the pack onto the bed in a fit of anger over the owners, absence, spilling the contents. Now he too sat, hands cradling the knitted gloves that the youngest usually wore. Balin sat in the chair closest to the fire, smoking his pipe with a grim look on his face. Leaning against the wall nearby, whittling away at a slender piece of wood, was Bofur, brow furrowed beneath his heavy hat. Oin, the eldest there, sat in the other chair, watching the fire.

"We should be out looking as well," Nori grumbled, though with less heat then he had argued with Gandalf earlier. "A wizard he may be, but we can cover more ground."

Balin sighed, the words oft repeated in the time since the rest of their company had arrived and young Ori had been found to be missing. "Gandalf told us to stay just in case the young one returns. He has taken the others because they have experience with tracking. He knows what he's doing, lad. He'll find Ori, no worry." And if he has merely drifted to sleep somewhere and forgotten the time then I wouldn't want to be Ori for all the gold in Erebor when they do, Balin finished silently.

Bofur cast a quick glance his way, grimace on his face showing that he too echoed that thought.

"I don't worry about that." Nori grunted, drawing them back to the conversation. "I worry about what fool trouble the lad has fallen into. He should'a known better then to wander."

"Probably just wanted to get in some sketched before nightfall." Bofur tried a smile. "Some fancy tree or bush that caught his attention."

But they all knew that this wasn't so.

Dori had returned from stabling the ponies to find the rented rooms empty, both brothers vanished. Over the course of the afternoon, as more and more of their company arrived, Nori had returned (smelling of smoke and ale) but their youngest was nowhere to be found. Not even for supper, the likes of which should have brought any dwarf running. It was the first time they had all been together since originally setting out from the Blue Mountains and would most likely be one of the last times they would all gather before truly beginning the quest (with the addition of a burglar).

Good food, good drink, and good company.

And yet Ori had never come.

With Nori's silent urging, and his own misgivings growing, Dori had approached Thorin and Gandalf with his concerns.

"Ori may be flighty at times, and easily distracted, but he is always respectful. He would be here to greet you if he was able. I fear that something has happened."

Gandalf puffed at his pipe, grey eyes looking inwards. "You feel that something ill has befallen him, do you Dori?"

"He is my brother. I would not speak of danger so easily unless I was certain."

Thorin studied him for a long moment and then nodded, face set into grim lines. He was aware that Ori was young, most likely thought that he was too young and certainly not as experienced as his own nephews, and unused to the dangers of the road. He looked to Gandalf who had also risen from his seat, countenance also showing resolve.

"Then search we shall."

Time passed.

Worry grew, as did Nori's muttered threats and Dori's pale complexion, until the younger brother pushed himself from the bed with a not so quiet curse, causing the others to jump at the unexpected sound.

"Damn the wizard, I cannot just sit here!"

"Nori, wait-"

Bofur tried to reach him before his left the room, or at least offer to go with him, when there came a shout from below. The room's occupants froze, Nori with his hand still reaching to open the door. Noises came from the stairs, someone coming up them swiftly, bellowing instructions, or admonishments, to the people below.

"Gandalf," Balin stood so quickly the chair was knocked over, pipe dropping to the floor. "That's Gandalf. Open the door, you nits!"

But it was too late for the door was open and the wizard was there.

Bofur would later recount how Dori had merely trembled (and how he had never denied it later), unable to stand to come to the wizard and the form that lay so still in those mighty arms. And so the wizard came to him, moving past a frozen Nori whose eyes stared without sight, the mere glimpse he had of his younger brother enough to force the air from his chest. Balin had come to stand beside them, one hand gripping Nori's shoulder and the other on Bofur's, face drawn tight and troubled. Oin had sprung forwards at Gandalf's urging to tend to the wounded youngling, approaching the bed warily as the wizard's bundle was gently placed in the arms of his brother, who pulled his close as if to hide him from view.

When Bofur realized that Ori was unclothed he felt grief enter his heart. When he saw how pale and still the small form was he felt it break.