The braid Thorin put in her hair was identical to the one he already wore, the one she'd redone for him in the tunnels. When she raised an inquisitive eye at him he shrugged.

"I've grown rather fond of it." She leaned her head back against his shoulder as he reached up to tug lightly on his own braid. "This braid shows I'm the current head of the line of Durin, no other may wear it except, if I so choose, my One."

Bilba reached up to trail her hand along the braid plaited in her hair, ending at the bead securing it at the bottom. "Trust you not to do things the traditional way," she said dryly. "Lucky for you it's one of the things I like about you."

"Like?" Thorin's voice rumbled. "Is that all it is? I thought I heard a stronger sentiment expressed in there somewhere."

She'd been sitting between his knees for him to braid her hair and now he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back against his chest. She responded by sliding a hand behind his head and drawing him down for a kiss.

"Did you?" Bilba said, amused. "I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about."

As she spoke her stomach twisted and she grimaced, her hand automatically flinching in his hair. She put her hand down and looked away, trying to hide her expression.

Thorin caught it, his eyes narrowing. "What's wrong?"

Bilba sighed and explained, adding that she'd already talked to Oin and gotten herbs to help.

"Here's hoping I won't end up sick by the time we reach Lake-town," she said, her voice annoyed. She reached out and poked him deliberately in the chest. "Though if we do I'm blaming you. You did this to me."

He raised an eyebrow. "And how do you figure that?"

"I was stressed out over you," she replied. "Stress caused nausea which, according to Oin, is making me sick."

"I hardly think it was my fault that I got locked in the cellar," he replied dryly.

Bibla had to physically bite her tongue to keep from responding. Instead she simply, slowly, raised an eyebrow. Really? What had it been Thranduil had said about creative insults again?

Thorin rolled his eyes.

"In any event," he said, "I'm here now so you hardly have anything left to concern yourself with."

"Except the last stop on our visit to things in Middle Earth that want to eat us," Bilba said slowly.

"You won't be anywhere near the dragon," Thorin said, his body tensing. "We've already discussed that."

Actually they'd yelled about it and come to no consensus whatsoever but she really didn't feel like a repeat so, rather than respond, she simply leaned against him once more and gave a non-committal sound he could interpret any way he wanted. He apparently chose to take it as consent of some kind, he had a tendency to suddenly get optimistic at the oddest points, because she felt him relax minutely behind her.

Her stomach settled and then promptly growled at her, reminding her she'd only taunted it with a morning meal that it had promptly rejected.

"Come on," Thorin said, beginning to move. "I believe the others said they were headed to dinner. We should join them."

He gently moved her off his lap, stood and then reached a hand down to pull her up. Once up he offered her an arm that she took and allowed her to lead the way into the hall.

Outside it was quiet, the rooms silent. Thorin explained the elves had set aside a small dining room for them.

The fact that Thorin was the one who knew where it was worried her, until they turned a corner to see Fili leaning against a wall.

He straightened immediately and came toward them, a huge smile on his face. Bilba felt her steps slow, suddenly self-conscious.

Fili reached them and immediately threw his arms around her, lifting her straight up in the air, though he was very careful to do it slowly and didn't spin her.

"It's about time," he said, before setting her down again. He lightly touched his forehead against hers. "Welcome to the family, Aunt Bilba."

Bilba felt a flush of embarrassment, and happiness, tingle from the top of her head all the way down to her toes even as she frowned in confusion.

"Aunt?" She asked in surprise, "I thought the braid was simply an official sign of courtship. We're not engaged and certainly not married!"

Fili just rolled his eyes. "If you want to pretend you're simply courting and not already setting a date it's fine with me." He grinned widely as he said it and Bilba had to bite back a grin of her own.

"Regardless," Fili said. "I thought the two of you might be hungry and would appreciate getting to the dining hall sometime in the next week." He crooked an arm for her, sending a mocking look of challenge at his uncle. "So I came to escort you personally."

Thorin growled something at his nephew but, by now, Bilba was grinning widely. She grabbed onto Fili's arm with both hands and looked over her shoulder at Thorin.

"I would indeed like to get there sometime today."

This time Thorin directed the challenging look at her but Bilba merely lifted her chin slightly, smirking back at him. "You should be pleased at your nephew's heroic attempts to protect your reputation, Thorin. After all there's plenty of light here so you wouldn't be able to blame cave ins for needing to backtrack frequently."

Fili laughed, only to immediately shut his mouth at the glare his uncle sent him. Even then he could barely hold back a grin so he finally turned, dragging Bilba with him, to set off in the direction of the dining room. Bilba cast one final look over her shoulder as they went, grinning at Thorin, who merely looked extremely put out.

She grew nervous again as they approached the dining room. As it turned out, however, she and Thorin had not been nearly so secretive as she'd have liked to believe. As they walked into the dining room there was a rousing shout of "ABOUT TIME!" from the rest of the Company as soon as they spotted her braid.

She and Thorin were promptly plunked down together at one of the tables piled with food. Before Bilba could even say anything a bowl of soup appeared before her, for which she was eternally grateful, as well as a cup of tea already steeped with some of Oin's herbs.

"Start small," Oin said, "you'll be back up to normal in no time."

Bilba nodded at him in appreciation. On her other side Nori dropped down and gave her a decidedly flirtatious wink. Bilba raised an eyebrow and he gave a mock innocent look in return.

"What? I can't be appreciative of exceptional beauty?"

"No," Thorin's voice growled from her other side. "You cannot."

Nori's grin widened into an expression that could only be described as wicked and he settled into his seat.

Thorin soon got caught up in a conversation with Dwalin on his other side, possibly regarding the possible disposal of certain annoying Company members, and, across from Bilba, Fili and Kili were having a hushed conversation, no doubt planning some sort of comeback against the elves for their long imprisonment.

Speaking of which, Bilba leaned over to Nori.

"How much have you stolen from them so far?"

He waggled his eyebrows, grinning. "A few things here and there."

Which meant a lot of things, everywhere.

"I suppose you could only carry so much," Bilba said mildly.

"Indeed," Nori replied, "it's tragic."

"It is," Bilba agreed, "considering how much stress they put us through." She gave him a considering look. "I suppose, seeing as how you could only carry so much, you'd want to make sure you carried only the best."

"Of course," Nori said, looking affronted. "I'm quite discerning."

Bilba nodded, acting deep in thought. "Which means you'd have to pick a lot of things up, you know, look at them, make sure they were worthy."

He nodded. "Most likely."

"Hmmm," Bilba said, "and I suppose it's quite easy to get distracted and accidentally put those things down in....I don't know, odd places."

A slow smile was beginning to spread across Nori's face. "Aye," he agreed, "I do tend to get distracted. There's a lot to see in this place after all."

"Of this I am well aware," Bilba said dryly. "I certainly saw enough of it the past three weeks." Her eyes drifted across the table to where Kili's head was bent down to listen to whatever Fili was saying. "You wouldn't happen to have seen any discarded bows lying about have you?"

Nori's eyes followed hers. "Perhaps one or two." He grinned. "I'll see what I can do. Anything else?"

Bilba grinned. "I'll make a list."

She settled back into her chair as she spoke. Across from her Fili was giving her an inquisitive look but she simply smiled back innocently.

The smell of meat hit her nose suddenly and she jerked around to see several elves walking in, carrying large platters that they set down on the table. Bilba could feel her mouth beginning to water.

"Thorin," she said sweetly, spinning to face him. "Would you mind getting me some of whatever that is?"

Thorin broke off his conversation with Dwalin and turned his attention to her. "I thought the only meat you ate was fish. That's roasted pork."

"What?" Bilba asked. "I can't expand my palate?"

"Is your stomach feeling well enough to handle it?"

Bilba gave him a look that could melt iron. "Thorin. Shut up and get me meat. Now."

Thorin's eyes widened slightly. On the other side of the table, Gloin and Bombur, the only two members of the Company who were married; were frantically signing something to Thorin. Thorin looked confused but got up and walked to the end of the table where the roasted pork was.

With him gone Bilba had a clear line of sight to Dwalin who was looking into his cup and shaking his head.

Bilba shrugged. She didn't care what the others thought as long as it got her bacon.

Thorin came back and slid into his seat, sliding a plate in front of her as he did.

"Satisfied, my Lady?" He asked his voice dry.

"Immeasurably so," Bilba answered back cheerfully.

And, with that, she happily settled in to eat.

* * *

She stood in the midst of an enormous meadow on a beautiful spring day. A warm breeze whistled through a knee high carpet of grass. Bright spots of color dotted the landscape, flowers in every color she could imagine. Overhead the sun glittered in a sapphire sky.

It was silent.

It was peaceful.

It was wrong.

She wrapped her arms around her chest, her body shaking. Around her the silence pressed in, waiting, unnatural. It felt as though the world had taken a deep breath and hadn't yet exhaled.

The world was waiting.

Everything was waiting.

Slowly, almost against her will, she found herself turning around.

Erebor rose behind her, its peak dominating the sky.

Wind whipped about it, creating a distant hollow sound. It brought to mind the image of empty rooms and abandoned halls.

So much silence. Even the birds were quiet.

She took a step forward, and something crunched under her feet.

She paused, startled.

She took another step, and heard the sound of something snapping.

An awful, sick feeling ran up her spine.

Slowly, so slowly, she lowered her eyes.

Her gaze landed on the grass around her knees and moved beyond, down toward her feet.

White shards winked at her through the blades of grass, jagged edges wrapped around her feet.

She swallowed and knelt carefully, reaching out to pick up one of the pieces. Her hand closed around something smooth, cold to the touch.

She picked it up and studied it, following the slight curve of the object.

She saw more pieces, whatever it was had shattered completely when she stepped on it. Her eyes traveled further and saw whiter, long, slender objects with other...

The image clicked and suddenly she was throwing herself back. Bile rose in her throat and she slapped a hand over her mouth.

She landed hard.

Something crunched.

Sharp, hard objects hit her in the back, slicing into her hands and sending pain sparking up her nerves.

Around her the grass began to turn brown and shrivel. The flowers faded and lost their petals. Slowly land started to appear, a great wasteland stretching as far as the eye could see.

A wasteland covered in the bones of the dead.

Her breath caught in her throat and she gave a low moan of terror, her eyes traveling around in horror.

Orcs, Elves, Men, Dwarves, all lay together in twisted heaps, joined together forever in death. Broken spears and rusted swords lay scattered among them, arrows protruding from fleshless ribcages and spears pinning broken skulls to the ground.

Her body shook so hard she could barely function. Her legs barely worked as she struggled to her feet. Around her the air grew cold, the wind harsher. Overhead dark clouds moved in over the sky, blocking out the sun and casting the land into shadow.

At the gates of Erebor something glittered.

On legs that barely held her up she walked among the dead, moving toward the gates.

The day grew darker, harsher. Rain began to fall, pattering on broken helms and shattered shields.

Dimly a sound began to wrap around her, voices roaring in rage, screaming in pain. The clash of swords and twang of bowstrings echoed across the valley even as the dead lay still.

The rain grew into a downpour, soaking her to the bone. She began to shiver but pressed on, trying to ignore the feel of bones snapping under her feet. Around her forms began to flicker in the corners of her vision, warriors locked in endless battle, lost as soon as she tried to focus on them.

She reached the gates and found the source of the light.

Two forms lay stretched out, bright armor somehow catching light even though there was none left to be found. Wind and rain drifted through their long dark hair in a mockery of life long fled.

For a moment she thought she was looking at Fili and Kili, only to look again and see that she was wrong.

These two were twins, clean shaven with hair the color of darkened bronze. Their bodies were leaner than the Princes and they were shorter, though not by much. Still, there was something about them that reminded her of the two royals.

She didn't know why such an intense feeling of grief was welling up inside her at the sight of them.

She didn't know them.

She was sure she'd never seen them before even though the feeling of familiarity was nearly overpowering.

So why was her heart breaking?

Around her everything vanished, the rain, wind, plain and mountain. All that was left were the two before her.

A sob rose up from the depths of her soul and her legs buckled, sending her to her knees between the still forms.

Shaking she reached out a hand to touch the hair of the closet one, only to watch it fall apart before her eyes.

"No," she whispered, her voice breaking on a sob. "Please no."

She couldn't stop it, couldn't stop anything. Before her eyes she lost them both, their bodies rotting away, leaving nothing but bone behind.

Pain worse than anything she'd ever borne welled up inside her. She curled forward, wrapping her arms around her waist and leaning till her forehead touched the ground.

She sobbed as though her heart would break, or perhaps it already had.

And still she didn't know why.

Bilba opened her eyes to find she was crying, her chest heaving with sobs.

The dream was gone already, lost as all the others were, but it didn't stop the feeling of intense pain and grief.

Had it been about her family? Her mind went to her brother and parents. If it had been about them she was grateful to have lost it. She had enough pain from their loss without it being refreshed through her dreams.

She sniffed, inhaling deeply and reached up to scrub at her eyes. She pushed up in her bed and stared into the dark. It was late. After dinner had ended Thorin had escorted her back to her room, insisting sleep would help her stomach and hopefully stave off any illness.

Oin, the traitor, had agreed and thus she'd found herself put to bed early as though she were an errant child.

She frowned. Her stomach did, in fact feel better.

She would never tell Thorin and Oin though. As far as she was concerned they were still jerks. She shoved the blankets off and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her chest still hitched and her breathing was erratic. Bilba sighed, she wouldn't be going back to sleep any time soon.

She got dressed and pulled her hair back in a ponytail before opening the door to her room. The hall beyond was dark and quiet, everyone else was asleep.

Vaguely she remembered this area of the palace from her searches for Thorin. If she were correct there had been a balcony that overlooked Mirkwood fairly near. Deciding she had nothing better to do she went in search of it and, because she wasn't Thorin, found it within a few minutes.

The balcony was similar to ones she'd seen in Rivendell, wide and flat with a simple railing around the edge.

She wasn't sure what was worse, the fact elves didn't use railings or the fact they clearly knew what they were and obviously chose not to use them.

The railing was too low to be any use for the elves, typical, but was the perfect height for her. She leaned on it and relaxed, staring into the dark woods. The tree loomed over and around her, dark presences in the darkness. The chirp of crickets filled the night and she could hear the distant sound of other creatures moving about. The scent of wood and moss hit her and she inhaled deeply, sighing as her body relaxed. A cool breeze swirled around her, signifying the change of seasons approaching and she wondered what day it was. She'd lost track inside the forest. She had no doubt Thorin knew and was quietly having a mental breakdown over it.

Her hand reached up and ran over the braid in her hair, a small smile involuntarily gracing her features. It hadn't been a dream then.

A soft light shone over her suddenly, coming from behind her, and she turned her head to see Glorfindel approaching. He sat on the railing next to her, long legs stretched out. As she'd thought the light emanating from him was far more obvious at night.

"Can you ever turn that off?" she asked. "Or are you just a walking beacon for anything that wants to attack you at night?"

He shrugged. "Perhaps I like being a walking beacon."

That she could believe. She returned her attention to the forest. "You couldn't sleep either?"