Thorin wasn't sure if his heart rate would ever return to normal.

It had stuttered and gone completely out of control the second he'd awoken to find Bilba and his idiot nephew missing.

He didn't have to ask where they were.

If Bilba got through this he was attaching bells to her so she'd never be able to sneak away from him again.

For Kili, he'd just inform Dis about her son's recklessness.

If they both survived, his traitorous mind whispered. If they didn't Dis would kill him.

He would let her.

His heart did not return to normal as, without a word, the Company geared up and headed into the tunnels.

It did not resume its old patterns as he stalked down the tunnels, his breath catching in his throat, hands clenching and unclenching uselessly at his side and his mind conjuring images of their charred/mutilated/torn apart/dead/dead/always dead bodies.

He'd never told her he loved her.

The thought nearly brought him to a stop in the middle of the corridor. As it was his footsteps staggered for a split second and he was nearly run over by Dwalin who simply grunted and propelled him forward, one hand resting for an instant between his shoulder blades.

Thorin spiraled back through his memories in desperation, searching. Had he truly never told her? He'd certainly SHOWN her, of that there was no doubt. He'd given her his family ring, put a courting braid and bead in her hair and made their position quite clear to the rest of the Company.

But, try as he might, he couldn't recall ever actually stating the words.

Not once.

Cold settled in the very marrow of his bones and he increased his steps. His heart continued its staccato beat in his chest.

It didn't improve when he heard the unmistakable sound of a dragon roaring in rage. By that time he'd broken into a run, barely aware, or even caring, if anyone followed.

He burst out of the door just as a vibration rocked the stone, nearly driving him to his knees. He caught a brief glimpse of Kili, holding something in one hand, vanishing over the edge of the ledge. Movement darted past and then Fili was diving after him.

Thorin turned his attention away from them, just in time to see Bilba fall and an ocean of fire bearing down on her.

He barely managed to save her in time and then it was running and hiding and trying desperately not to get slaughtered.

And, even then, his heart did not settle.

And while he wanted to hold her and tell her how afraid he'd been and speak the words he'd held back so long, he instead fell back into old habits and found himself yelling and she yelled back because that was who she was and part of why he loved her and STILL his heart showed no sign of recovering from the wound it had suffered upon waking and finding the two of them gone.

Fear of not knowing the fate of his One and his nephew.

Pain from knowing neither had trusted him.

He was not his grandfather or his father. He would not fall as they had. He would not put his own wants and needs ahead of those of his people.

Bilba and Kili should have trusted him.

Beside him, Bilba stumbled over a loose rock on the floor. She staggered forward and Thorin caught her around the waist, steadying her.

She cast him a slight smile of gratitude. "Thank you."

He nodded.

"Where are we going?'

"I don't know yet," Thorin admitted, "right now, simply away from the dragon trying to kill us." Erebor was an entire mountain after all. His nephews, and the rest of the Company, could be anywhere, as could the dragon. He honestly had no idea what to do or where to start. Should they try to make it back to the Treasury and out of the mountain? Down to the forges in the hopes the others might have gone there to try and regroup as far as possible from the dragon? To the heights in the hopes an exit might be unblocked?

"Okay." She looked down, one hand tugging idly at his ring where she wore it at her throat. She tended to do that when she was worried or upset. "This is my fault," she lamented.

Thorin frowned. He did believe she'd made a mistake but it had been made from a desire to help and, as far as they knew, it could well still work. Mahal, but he hoped it would work. If there was any justice in the world the creature was already dead from the arrows and was even then beginning to rot in some, hopefully far off, location in the mountain.

"At least you can no longer hold the situation with Azog against me," he allowed finally, the corners of his lips just quirking.

Her brows furrowed as she processed what he said and he saw the tension in her shoulders relax minutely.

"Smaug wasn't my boyfriend though," she said finally.

Thorin shrugged. "Perhaps it was love at first sight."

Bilba raised an eyebrow. "And I promptly tried to kill him?"

"It does seem to be a habit with us," Thorin mused.

Bilba huffed. "We're really bad at it though."

"We are," Thorin agreed.

Bilba gave a slight grin. "My crazy boyfriend could reduce your crazy boyfriend to a pile of ash."

Thorin snorted. "I would probably thank him."

"And then kill him?" Bilba quipped.

Thorin chuckled. Within his chest his heart appeared to be considering returning to normal but he doubt it would entirely until he saw his nephews and the rest of his Company safe and alive.

They'd been walking for some time and, deciding now was as good a time as any, Thorin paused and moved to the wall of the tunnel.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Bilba asked from behind him, her tone nervous.

"No," Thorin said, "but we can't wander around in here forever."

She swallowed, fear in her eyes, but nodded. One hand again went to the ring at his throat and Thorin felt a surge of love for her that she would put that level of trust in him.

Though he often felt woefully inadequate to it.

Regardless, they couldn't stay in the tunnels forever, no matter how tempting, so, taking a deep breath and sending a silent prayer to Mahal, he pushed on the door hidden in the wall.

It rumbled open, revealing a silent and seemingly empty hallway beyond.

Thorin felt Bilba's hand creep into his and gripped it tight in return. Then, giving her what he hoped was a reassuring smile; he pulled her out onto the walkway with him.

Erebor stretched before them, quiet and cold. Even with the presence of the rightful King under the Mountain, the Blessing of Mahal was still soft, shrouding the different levels in shadow. Thorin's eyes traveled over the empty walkways and imagined them as they'd once been, full of light and sound.

The air around them felt thick and heavy, as though the mountain had paused in the midst of drawing a breath.

He could almost feel it waiting.

It wouldn't have to wait much longer, he mentally promised, not if he had anything to do with it.

"Railings," Bilba whispered beside him, "what do all the races have against railings?"

"They destroy the lines and shapes of the bridges," Thorin replied, pitching his own tone low.

Bilba gave him a look that suggested he might just be an idiot. She tended to get that look a lot, generally when she was looking at him. "They keep people from dying," she hissed.

Thorin rolled his eyes and didn't reply, simply tugging her forward down the walkway.

They got all of fifty or so feet before the laughter started overhead.

Thorin froze, his breath stopping in his lungs. Beside him Bilba had done the same, her eyes wide.

Something moved in the darkness overhead and then Smaug was dropping down, landing on a nearby bridge. It cracked and Thorin cursed the foul thing for ruining more of his mountain even as he jerked backward, planning to run back to the door. The dragon reached an arm out and slammed it shut, the crash echoing through the large chamber.

"I had wondered," the creature growled, "when you would come out. I certainly tracked you long enough."

His hearing, Thorin thought, or his sense of smell. It didn't matter which, the outcome was the same. A sense of resignation settled over him. Beside him, Bilba was shaking so hard it was a wonder she stayed standing. Her hand had a near death grip on his and he squeezed back, fighting to keep the shiver wracking his own body from becoming noticeable.

He remembered his conversation months ago with Bilba about the futility of the quest. She hadn't told him anything he hadn't already known but he'd still been convinced they had a chance.

Perhaps he'd been a little more like his grandfather and father than he'd wanted to admit.

The dragon crawled closer and, as he did, Thorin caught sight of the worm's ruined eye, milky white with a black substance draining out of it. The area around the eye appeared drained of color, having gone from a brilliant reddish brown to a dull, almost corpse like color.

Then the dragon was looming over them and Thorin felt his body go rigid even as he forced himself to keep his eyes on the creature.

He was Thorin, called Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King under the Mountain and he'd be cursed if he didn't look death in the eye as it came for him.

Bilba, understandably, had no such compunction and squeezed her eyes shut, hunching into herself as if it could save her, her grip on Thorin very nearly painful in spite of her much smaller stature.

As such she did not realize what was about to happen until Smaug's arm reached out and ripped her from Thorin's side.

She screamed and Thorin gave a roar of rage, drawing his sword and beginning to lunge forward.

He got all of a foot before talons the size of his leg wrapped around him, pinning his arms to his side, and slammed him back against the wall. The hit was so hard it rattled his bones and caused his teeth to clack together. Pain bloomed in his head and he was fairly sure he blacked out for just an instant. He dimly heard Bilba scream his name but couldn't gather himself enough to answer.

He was released and fell forward, his legs buckling the second they hit the ground. His knees struck the rock hard enough to send shockwaves of pain radiating up them, a fact he was grateful for as it served to clear his mind just a little.

He looked up in time to see Smaug heading down a corridor, still holding a screaming Bilba in a tight grip. She shrieked his name as they disappeared, her voice thick with terror.

"Ghivashel," Thorin whispered. He struggled to push himself up; reaching for the sword he'd dropped when he fell. A wave of dizziness washed over him and he went back to his knees, grimacing as black spots danced in his vision.

The dragon and his One vanished, Bilba's screams fading out a moment later.

Thorin swore violently, his hands clenching into fists against the ground. Again he tried to get up and, this time, managed it though he was wobbly. Clenching his sword in one hand he began to stagger after them. A combination of rage and fear built in his chest. Pain built in his jaw as he ground his teeth and his hand on the hilt of his sword went nearly numb from the tight he had on it.

He'd nearly reached the corridor they'd gone down when a shout caught his attention. Thorin turned to see Fili, bruised and battered with a bloody gash matting the hair on his right temple, racing toward him. Thorin waited and his nephew soon caught up to him, sagging forward to rest his hands on his knees.

"Kili," he gasped out, "the dragon took Kili."

Thorin closed his eyes, Bilba's screams still echoing through his mind.

He opened them again to see Fili standing straight, his eyes locked onto Thorin's, pleading as though his Uncle had all the answers.

Thorin tightened his grip on his sword once more and his eyes hardened.

"He took Bilba as well." He saw Fili's eyes widen but didn't give the other a chance to reply, instead presenting him with a smile that promised death. "What do you say we go get them back?"

Fili nodded and Thorin turned to stride down the corridor, hearing the steady footsteps of his nephew behind him.

They weren't dead he told himself.

He still had to yell at Kili for being an idiot.

And he STILL had to tell Bilba he loved her.

And he'd be cursed if he allowed that blasted worm to kill them before he'd had a chance to do either.