The door opened when they were less than a day out from Rivendell and for the rest of her life Bilba would lament the unfairness of it all.

To have gotten SO CLOSE.

She didn't know it of course. If anything, Bilba thought she might not remember the end. Perhaps they were not on the exact same path her family took, or maybe her mind was not ready for the final truth.

And then she saw the cracked and ruined remains of the farmhouse.

"Bilba! Bilba, come here!"

Bilba walked forward shyly, her eyes on the ground.

Belladonna rolled hers in return, grabbed her daughter by the arms, and tugged her forward.

The farmhouse they'd stopped at was modest, wood and stone with a thatched roof. The family living there was even smaller than Bilba's, a man and woman with their young son, a few years older than Bilba.

The family had never seen Hobbits before and welcomed them to spend the night with open arms. Bilba, who'd never seen Humans outside of the elusive and mysterious Rangers, was thrilled when her parents graciously accepted.

Bilba stood in the middle of the cracked floor and gazed up where the roof once blocked the view of the sky.

A few feet away Thorin and Gandalf were arguing about something or other, but she paid them no mind.

The sky was a brilliant blue, though from the outside she'd seen a few clouds beginning to gather at the edge of the horizon.

Gandalf stalked past and Bilba frowned.

"Where are you going?"

"To seek the counsel of the only one around here who has any sense!"

Fili, standing near the remnants of the door, said, "Who is that?"

"Myself!" Gandalf's voice floated back, and then he was gone, vanishing over the edge of a hill.

"What did you say to him?" Bilba asked Thorin, but he merely snarled something unintelligible and also stalked past. Outside she heard him giving orders to set up camp, apparently unconcerned about the burned out house and missing family that once lived there.

Bilba could hear the others moving about outside, getting everything set up.

"Bilba! Bilba!" Bungo ran up to her and grabbed onto her skirts, dragging on them to get her attention. "I wanna go exploring! Go with me! Go with me!"

Bilba laughed. "All right, where would you like to go?"

"Everywhere!"

Her father and the man were out hunting, while her mother and the man's wife sat at the small kitchen table talking.

When Bilba asked her mother gave permission and suggested taking the son, Atherton, with them.

The young man gave her a shy smile from where he was sitting quietly, reading. He was over a head taller than Bilba, thin, with long dark hair tied back in a ponytail. Bilba had felt her heart flutter the first time she'd seen him, drawn by his shy nature. It was the first time she'd felt any sort of romantic interest in a male, and so it was she stammered quite a bit when extending the invitation.

He accepted, and soon the three of them set out. Atherton took the lead, knowing the area better than they did.

Bungo ran ahead and Bilba let him, as it allowed her to walk alone with Atherton.

She couldn't remember what they talked about.

Slowly, as if on their own, Bilba's feet started to move, leading her over to a back corner of the room.

The floor was cracked and broken with weeds and grasses growing in, but the wall was mostly still intact.

Bilba lowered herself to her knees slowly, the grit and the sharp edges of broken wood stabbing her knees through the thin fabric of her trousers.

Cold raced through her and the hand she reached out shivered uncontrollably.

She brushed aside rubble, casting away small rocks and debris.

"Bilba? What are you doing?"

Somewhere in the two weeks she'd known them, Fili and Kili had decreed themselves her protectors. They never left her alone for very long. Bilba paused but didn't turn, her eyes still fixed on the floor.

A shadow fell over her and then Fili knelt beside her. His hand reached out and picked something up off the ground.

She didn't have to look to see what it was. A small pack, torn and filthy. Fili opened it and pulled out several items, clothing mostly, and a few blankets.

The last thing he drew out caused Bilba's heart to wrench and a strangled sound to escape her throat.

A small toy Orc, made of fabric, not at all scary, dressed in a pair of trousers and shirt.

Fili silently held it out and Bilba took it from him.

"I was never scared of Orcs," she whispered, shaking hands gently smoothing the clothing on the toy. "Why should I be? I never knew them but from story, it was almost as though they weren't real. I never thought telling stories to Bungo would make him fear them."

She finished adjusting the clothes and brushed the dirt off, a slight smile crossing her face for a split second. "I made him this, silly as I could. Most Hobbits will never meet an Orc in their life, so what did it matter if it were realistic? He stopped being scared after I gave it to him."

She settled back further on her heels, and cast a tired glance towards another corner. "My parents left their packs over there." The area was completely destroyed, most of the house having come down in that spot.

"We'll get them for you," Fili said immediately. "If you want."

Bilba shook her head. "No. My parents WERE there, they aren't anymore."

Carefully, she put one hand on the floor and pushed to her feet, other hand clutching the doll.

"Do you--"

"No," she said, shortly, anticipating the question. "I just remember staying here. The house was still standing then. We met the family."

She stepped outside, Fili right behind her, and stared in the direction she remembered hiking with Atherton and Bungo.

Atherton, with his quiet smile and gentle voice. What had happened to him and his family? He'd never tried to contact her after she'd gone back to the Shire. Was it because he didn't know where she was or because he was no longer alive to do so?

The doll was clutched in both her hands, so tight her knuckles were white.

She grew aware of the others casting looks her way, trying to be discreet about it as they went about their business.

Fili moved past her and went to speak to Thorin. A moment later Thorin approached her.

"If you like, we can move camp. I'll not force you to stay here."

Bilba forced herself to meet his eyes. Carefully she put the doll into her pocket and tried to get her heart working correctly again. She pasted a sickly smile on her face. "It's fine. Here is as good as anywhere. Though--" She turned to look at the ruins behind her. "I would like to know what happened."

"As would I," Thorin agreed. "Though whatever it was appears to have been long ago."

Bilba nodded. "Indeed." She shut her eyes, taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out. Once she did she opened her eyes again. "What can I do to help?"

Thorin studied her, that same blank expression he got when he was concerned and trying to hide it, not realizing that his blank expression then BECAME his concerned expression.

It startled her to realize she knew that, just as she knew Kili secretly enjoyed his big brother mothering him and Fili had far too intense an obsession with weaponry.

It had only been two weeks, yet it already felt like she'd known many of them for a lifetime.

Thorin didn't comment further, just pointed out to what she could do to help set up camp.

Bilba nodded and threw herself into it, quickly losing herself in the work. By the time everything was set up and ready to go, night had fallen.

Most of the Dwarves were sitting around resting or speaking in small groups. A fire had been set up and Bombur was stirring stew in a large pot. She didn't see Fili or Kili but vaguely remembered Thorin telling them to go and do something, guard the ponies or some such. Perhaps the burnt out farmhouse had bothered him a bit more than he let on.

"Bofur," Bombur suddenly called out, holding up two bowls of stew, "would you please take these to the boys?"

He looked to the side and Bilba realized he was looking towards the same hill she remembered walking over with Atherton and Bungo.

The shaking returned, fine tremors running along her skin. In her mind Belladonna Took lay utterly quiet.

Bilba stood up. "I'll do it."

Bombur frowned. "It's quite all right. I'm sure Bofur doesn't mind."

Bofur looked about to respond, probably to agree with Bombur, but she didn't give him the chance. Stepping forward she grabbed the two bowls.

"It's fine. They're just over the hill."

With that she turned to go. Behind her she heard Bofur say something quietly and then heard the deep bass of Thorin's voice responding.

No one stopped her as she crested the hill and began her descent.

"This is really beautiful. Doesn't it get lonely though? Being out here all by yourself?"

Atherton shrugged, idly twirling a stick he'd been carrying. "Nah. I've got my parents and the Elves come through often enough."

Bilba perked up, clasping her hands in front of her face. "Really? Have you met Lord Elrond?"

He puffed up, looking altogether too pleased with himself. "Of course! I've even been to Rivendell."

"Oh, really? You've been there? What's it like?"

Atherton grinned and began to regale her with stories about Rivendell and Lord Elrond. With each story Bilba grew more and more excited about seeing Rivendell herself in another day or so. She began to walk backwards, eyes locked on Atherton as he spoke.

She didn't notice how far Bungo had gotten from her until she heard him scream...

Bilba stopped dead on the dark hillside, hands clutching the bowls so hard it was a wonder they didn't break.

Her brother's scream echoed in her head.

She swallowed, or tried to, as her throat went drier than dust. Her entire body shook so badly she could barely stand and it felt like she'd been carved from a block of ice.

An expanse seemed to open around her. Behind her lay Thorin and the others, but she could swear a wasteland separated her from them.

Before her lay darkness, so deep nothing could penetrate it. As the day had progressed the clouds she'd seen on the horizon had moved in and now they blocked the light of the moon.

She couldn't say how long she stood there, unable to move back, incapable of stepping forward.

Rushing footsteps sounded and, from the darkness, Kili came running up.

"Bilba! What are you doing?" He didn't wait for her to respond, grabbing her by the arms and turning her back toward camp. "There are trolls, they've taken the ponies and Fili is trying to free them. I need to warn the camp!"

Trolls.

"RUN! BILBA! RUN!!"

She lunged forward, barely grabbing Bungo as the monstrous hand reached for him. He screamed again. Her grip on his arms was undoubtedly bruising but she had no time to relent. She swung him up into her arms and ran.

Kili was talking to her but Bilba couldn't hear him. Finally, he forcibly shoved her to a sitting position on the ground.

Stay. Here.

She saw his mouth form the words but no sound came out. Then he was gone, racing to the camp and leaving her alone.

The ground thundered. Bilba didn't dare look back. Her breath came in ragged gasps. Her arms ached from Bungo's weight.

A tree root grabbed her feet and she stumbled, falling forward.

Feet rushed past her, into the night.

Oin, far too old for battle, but given little choice.

Gloin, who only wanted to make life better for his wife and child, forced to do so with the blade of an axe.

Dwalin, eager, running without reservation into the heart of danger.

Pain lanced through her knees and hands as she hit the ground. Bungo flew from her arms. Foul laughter sounded behind her and terror seized her heart, locked her limbs.

Arms grabbed her. Bilba looked up to see Atherton, his eyes blown with fear, gaze fixed on something behind her.

He dragged her up, shoved her in front of him.

And then he was behind her and she could spare no time to look back.

Dori and Nori, resigned but loyal.

Ori, trailing behind, a mix of fear and excitement on his face, the look of someone who had yet to face true battle.

Her lungs ached, every breath of air she dragged in a struggle. Her eyes burned and her legs threatened to fail her at any moment.

Balin, a peacemaker forced to battle against his very nature.

Bifur, enraged, ready for battle.

Bofur and Bombur, not warriors at all but ready to do what they must.

She burst from the tree line, screaming.

At the door to the house her mother appeared, along with Atherton's mother.

Bilba couldn't remember her name.

Kili, terrified, running full tilt not to battle, but to the side of his brother.

Her father, and Atherton's father, came running at the sound of her screams.

The earth vibrated just behind her.

The treeline exploded.

Thorin, weary and without choice. Forced once more to face the brutal hand fate dealt him.

He vanished into the darkness, lost to her like all the rest, and was gone.

And she was alone.

Again.

Surrounded by darkness and death.

She remembered everything.

And by Illuvatar, she wished she HADN'T.