Kili almost walked right past her.

The camp was in chaos as word of the approaching orc army spread. Humans and elves rushed about gathering weapons and forming strategies, all petty fights over gold or stung pride forgotten. Kili glanced briefly at Erebor looming over them and wondered if anyone had thought to send word to his Uncle. Would it be enough to snap him out of his madness?

A chill breeze darted past him and he scowled. The dress Bilba was wearing wasn't anywhere near what she needed to fight against the weather. Overhead the dark clouds hung thick, darker than anything he'd seen. Bursts of early winter rain, carried by the wind, splattered against his face on occasion, promising the weather would only get worse.

A pile of crates and other supplies drew his attention and he felt a surge of relief as he saw Bilba sitting on the top of a box. Her arms were wrapped around her legs, which were drawn up with the skirt of the dress pulled down over her feet.

He thought she'd simply pulled her hair back at first. Then, as he drew nearer, he saw the short, haphazard strands, cut in jagged, uneven swathes as though done with a dull knife.

The realization she'd cut off her hair hit him like a physical blow. In dwarven culture losing your beard or hair was the highest dishonor. To do it to yourself, however, indicated a feeling of profound shame to the extent you no longer felt worthy of being considered a member of your own race.

He swallowed down a suddenly dry throat and headed over, wishing desperately as he did that Fili had come with him and hadn't, instead, elected to stay behind and yell at Thranduil some more. As he drew nearer he noticed the pale cast to her skin, the way she hugged herself close, fingers digging into the fabric of her dress. Kili cursed mentally and pulled off the long coat he'd found in the Treasury. He should have given it to her as soon as they'd left the mountain, he berated himself mentally. No doubt Fili, or Uncle in his right mind, would have done so long ago.

She started when he draped the coat over her shoulders, her eyes tearing away from whatever she'd been looking at. Then she gave him a weak smile and slid her arms into the sleeves, pulling the coat around her. Kili sat next to her as she did, helping her arrange it to her liking. Once it was on, to his surprise, she wrapped both arms around his bicep, pulled herself tight against his side and promptly sagged as if all her energy had fled. Her eyes drifted off to the left again though Kili couldn't see anything in that direction worth looking at aside from Erebor.

They sat in silence. Around them the camp was still in chaos. Overhead bad weather threatened but, right there and then, it seemed as if they sat in a small oasis of peace, separated from the insanity the rest of the world had fallen into.

"So, uh--" Kili started finally. "You cut your hair." He winced as soon as the words left his mouth. Good job, Kili, he mentally lamented, that was well said. No wonder Uncle and Fili always do the talking.

"It was in the way," Bilba said. She gave him a rueful look. "It was part of my new outlook on life, right up until I walked out and discovered an army of orcs was marching on us."

She leaned against him with a sigh, her eyes drifting away again.

The quiet dragged on once more as Kili struggled with what else to say. He was used to having Fili or Uncle by his side. Back home they were always the ones dealing with the day to day problems. They would work out alliances, deal with squabbles and make sure there was enough food for the long winter. Often they would be gone for months at a time to find work while Kili was left behind with his mother, too young to go with them.

Convincing Uncle to let him go on this quest had been huge. A way to prove he wasn't just the baby. He was an adult in his own right, capable of making his own choices and decisions.

Instead he was afraid he may have just proven them right in the end. What had he done anyway? He'd helped with the trolls but it had been Bilba who'd avoided being captured and who'd rescued him and Uncle. The dragon had been Bilba's idea as well, a bad one he could see now in retrospect, even if it had worked. Had they gone in together, or with even just a few more, they would have stood a better chance of distracting the dragon long enough to avoid nearly being roasted to death. Not to mention that he and Bilba were the least experienced in warfare and tactics and had gone in barely knowing the layout of Erebor, or only knowing it from old maps he and Fili had studied as a child. They'd had access to people like Uncle and Dwalin, both of whom had actually lived in Erebor for years and had fought at the battle of Moria. Together the two of them possessed a wealth of knowledge and experience that, had they used it, could well have prevented him and Bilba being locked in the Treasury and her having to go through the horror of believing she'd lost her children.

Granted, it was always possible it would have made little difference but one of the things his and Fili's instructors had always drilled into them was the importance of using every advantage in battle and he had neglected two huge ones in the form of his Uncle, Dwalin and others who'd lived in Erebor and fought at Moria and in countless other battles.

He hadn't come up with a single original idea yet, had bungled the few he'd been involved with, had failed to contribute even once on his own without someone else being the one to do most of the work. He'd say it was his lack of experience except Bilba was less experienced than he was and always seemed to know exactly what to do. In every situation she made split second decisions that always seemed to work. She'd saved them time and time again, saved Uncle directly at least twice. It was the reason he'd followed her so readily into the mountain. She always seemed to know what she was doing. He didn't question.

He huffed in annoyance at himself.

After all his protestations and demands to be treated like an adult he was still following behind like a child desperate to prove he could keep up.

"I'm still pregnant. " Bilba's voice was quiet, with just the slightest hesitation in it.

The words took a few seconds to register and Kili felt her arms tighten around his arm.

Intense relief followed by an equal amount of joy flooded him as the words finally got through. Kili jerked around, pulled his arm free and hugged her. "Bilba, that's wonderful!"

She shrieked in surprise, drawing a few curious looks from those still running about, then laughed and hugged him back.

"That's wonderful!" Kili repeated, smiling uncontrollably. At the same time it felt as though a massive boulder had lifted off his shoulders. The day seemed a little brighter, the cold less sharp.

Bilba pulled back, suddenly shy. Her eyes cut left again and then came back to his. "I suppose I should have known. Any child of Thorin's is likely to be every bit as stubborn as he is."

Kili snorted. "Not to mention the tenacity of the Baggins line."

"Oh, no," Bilba said, her voice mock serious, the slightest ghost of a smile on her lips, "the Baggins line is entirely respectable I assure you. It's the Took half that keeps getting me in trouble."

"Just think," Kili replied, matching her tone, "half Uncle and half Took."

Bilba's eyes widened. "And there's two of them," she whispered. "I'm not sure Middle Earth will survive."

Kili felt his heart soar at her confirmation that not only was she still pregnant but that both babies had survived their ordeal in the Treasury. "Maybe you'll be lucky and they'll both be girls," he offered, "that should be at least a little easier."

Bilba was already shaking her head, her eyes trained to the left again. "No," she said, distracted, "they're boys. Don't ask me how I know. I can't explain it myself." She looked to him and chewed on her lower lip. "It's strange but it's almost like I've met them before, somehow."

Kili shifted, the hard edge of the box he sat on cutting off the circulation in his legs. "Do you know how long it'll be until you actually meet them?"

"No," Bilba answered. She leaned against him again, idly sliding her hand down to intertwine her fingers with his. "I'm five months now. If the babies were hobbits I'd have another seven months. The healer said I was too small to be that far along though, especially since I'm expecting twins."

She stopped speaking for a moment and Kili felt her fingers tighten on his arm. He frowned in concern, reaching with his free hand to put it over the one still wrapped around his bicep. "Bilba?"

She let out a huff of air, eyes distant. "The healer thinks it'll be closer to a mix, maybe eighteen or so months in total but there's no way to know for sure."

Eighteen months, Kili thought. If it were accurate it meant she still had thirteen months to go. He supposed that would explain why she was still so small. He wouldn't even have suspected she was pregnant if she hadn't told him.

Her eyes were distant again and he followed her gaze toward Erebor. With a start he realized she was looking toward the path they'd taken when Uncle had thrown them out of the mountain, leading down from what was currently the only accessible entrance or exit.

Kili felt his gut twist with understanding. Bilba looked back toward him and he quickly tried to blank out his expression. He clearly wasn't fast enough, however, as she went red and looked down.

She released his arm and idly started picking at the fabric of her dress. "I keep thinking," she said, her voice a mere whisper, "he must have heard by now, you know? That there's an entire army marching on us and I keep thinking..." she trailed off and was silent a few seconds before starting again. "I just keeping thinking 'surely this will wake him up. He'll realize we're in danger and it'll get through to him'". She lifted her head and turned her eyes toward the mountain once more. "I keep waiting for him to come for us...for me."

Kili's heart twisted at the pain in her voice and the anger he felt toward his uncle increased. Yes, he believed that his uncle was being influenced by the ring, an influence that continued even after Fili had convinced him to hand it over. Still, it was just that, influence. His uncle wasn't being forced to do anything, just influenced. He, Fili and Bilba had all tried to get through to him; Fili more than once. The fact was his uncle simply was not listening, his pride and stubbornness refusing to allow him to see the truth.

He could handle the pain of his uncle banishing him but forgiveness would be a long time coming for how he'd treated Bilba.

And that went for the rest of the Company as well. Whatever their reasons, and he couldn't begin to fathom them, the basic fact was not one of them had stood up to his uncle. It was obvious Uncle was not himself; that he was making irrational decisions and yet not one had stood up with him and Fili to argue with him.

Not one had stood up to protect Bilba.

Bilba had gone back to watching the mountain and he shifted to wrap an arm across her shoulders. "I'm sure he'll send someone," he said, "he probably just hasn't heard yet." His gut clenched slightly as he said it. He had no doubt his uncle had heard. An army of orcs from Mordor, led by a nightmare from legends he'd read as a child. He and Fili were trained and had been on countless escort missions but they'd never been in a true battle. Bilba had barely ever fought at all, her background one of leisure and comfort.

All three of them would be in mortal peril in the upcoming battle. He had no problem with fighting and he knew Fili didn't either.

He had a deep problem with Bilba fighting, particularly in her condition. The safest place for her would be inside Erebor.

Except she had been banished from there and no one was forthcoming to lift that banishment in face of the oncoming battle.

Would his uncle truly allow Bilba to face the orcs and the leader of the ancient Nazgul?

Would he truly allow her to die?

If he did...if it was his pride and stubbornness...Kili wasn't sure he would ever speak to him again.

Bilba shifted suddenly, drawing closer to him. "Kili?"

He turned and rested his chin lightly on the top her head. "Yeah?"

Her eyes studied the mountain, so intense he wondered if she was trying to see through the rock, inside to where his fool Uncle and the rest of the Company sat while the world fell to ruin.

"Can I ask you something really selfish?"

"Anything."

"Promise you'll stay with me."

She was doing it again, Kili thought, treating him like an equal as though the thought to do otherwise never crossed her mind. She never questioned his abilities, never told him he was too young, never asked where Fili was so she could see what he thought.

She simply accepted him, exactly as he was.

"I swear it," he said without hesitation.

She relaxed and Kili felt a near irrational sense of loyalty to her.

At that moment he'd have followed her into the fires of Mordor had she asked, and gladly.