Chapter 66: Despair and Deception

"You are not welcome here, you or your treacherous thieving people," shouted Thorin, his face red and splotchy.

"It's you who is the traitor, the liar," shouted Eric just as vehemently. The two lake men who held Eric back looked uncomfortable with the altercation. "You promised us safety inside the mountain and yet you have delivered us to a grave."

Sara stood to the side, numb as the words flew like daggers between Eric and Thorin. What was going on? How had things devolved this quickly? They stood in the remains of the entry hall, the thick black smoke waffling around the high arches of the room. Ever so slowly the smoke drew lower and lower as the room filled. They were trapped in the mountain and yet all these two could think to do was hurl accusations at each other.

They had searched the flaming rubble for any survivors but only managed to locate the remnants of two guards so far. Thorin, however, insisted that they continue and find the remaining thieves. When they asked who the thieves were and what they had attempted to steal, he told them in hushed and cautious tones of the four guards who had attempted to steal the black arrow lodged in Smaug's chest and blown up the front gate.

Sara's stomach churned, remembering the glittering insistence in Thorin's eyes as he said the missing guards must be found and slain for the protection of all. It only got worse when several minutes later Eric and the two other men arrived only to find the front gate blocked with stone and fire. Sara wasn't sure who had started shouting first, but with every second the argument had grown more heated and less intelligible or productive.

"We must stop them," said Balin, beside her. "Thorin is not in his right mind and if this goes on much longer things will be said that cannot be unsaid."

"I agree," said Sara, glancing at her siblings, sitting some distance away watching. "But how do you suggest we break up the fight?"

"I will see what we can employ. But I will need you to remain. I'm afraid diplomacy will be much more difficult without you here."

Sara nodded and Balin made his way towards Dwalin and Oin. After a few whispered words to them, Balin nodded and waved her near before approaching Thorin.

"Might we have a word?" asked Balin, placing a cautious hand on Thorin's shoulder.

Thorin shrugged the hand off irritably. "Leave me be," he said, his attention still riveted on Eric.

But Balin did not back down. "Sara is concerned for your health," said Balin quietly.

"My health is fine!"

"It's not just Sara, Oin is also concerned. You have bled quite profusely from your head wound."

Thorin finally turned to look at him and then Sara.

"You did bleed a lot," she said. "Oin should look at your ribs again. You may have reinjured then."

"Perhaps we could all use a moment to assess," said Balin looking toward the disgruntled lake men. "Would you be able to identify the two men whose remains we pulled from the rubble? Who might their compatriots have been? Are there any missing persons we should be aware of? Also what resources were your people able to bring with them? Once we have those answers we might be better equipped to discuss our options moving forward."

Eric and the other two men didn't look entirely convinced but after a few whispered words, the men agreed and drifted across the room to speak in low tones. At last, Thorin relented and followed Balin back toward the others.

"Sit," instructed Oin, motioning to Thorin. Reluctantly the dwarf king sat with his back to the healer.

"I tell you I am well," grumbled Thorin, though Sara saw him wince as he shifted his weight.

"You may be the king," said Oin. "But I am the healer. I will determine who is in fit health. Now be still, I didn't get to properly inspect your head with all that's been happening." Thorin huffed but sat still.

Sara glanced back at her siblings who were fidgeting and looking out of place. She recalled how Tilda's eyes had been wide as she watched the earlier argument. Beside her Sigrid and Bane's faces were solemn and expressionless. "Dwalin?" she said leaning closer to the warrior next to her.

"Aye, lass?"

"Would… would you mind taking them," she said, nodding toward the three children.

Dwalin glanced over at them and then nodded. "Aye, I could look after them for a while."

"Thank you." She watched Dwalin clump over to the children. After exchanging words, they followed Dwalin deeper into the mountain and out of sight.

"This is quite the crack to the head," said Oin, drawing Sara back to what was going on. "You will need to be stitched up or this will never heal properly."

"Do it later," growled Thorin, glaring toward Eric and his companions bent over one of the bodies. "Someone must handle the upstart humans. I don't trust them. I want them gone."

"But you agreed to house the people of Lake Town during the upcoming battle," reminded Balin.

"I care not why they are here. They attempted to steal an heirloom. Who knows what they have planned, what they are hatching now? What other treasures might they desire? Nothing is safe with their kind around."

Sara was forcibly reminded of his outburst earlier in the morning. This time she was not so much hurt as she was concerned at what she could only interpret as another sign of Thorin's instability.

"They are not to be trusted," he said, looking at each of them as if seeking confirmation. "We must find a way to be free of them before…"

"Thorin," said Sara trying to keep the quaver out of her voice.

"At least most of the men remain outside the mountain and we only have to deal with women and children," he continued.

"Thorin," her voice was louder, clearer, sharper.

Thorin paused.

"I think you should go with Oin," she said.

He waved his hand dismissively. "It is but a slight wound. Don't fuss so. I have told you many times how dwarves…"

"Thorin! It's not your head wound I'm worried about."

"Then speak it," he said impatiently. "I have business to attend to."

She went to him and caught his face in her hands forcing him to look at her. "You are not yourself, Thorin."

He paused.

"You're not yourself," she repeated quieter now she had his attention. She released his face and stepped away. "You're not in the right frame of mind to handle this situation."

His blue eyes watched her, the bright glitter of madness gradually receding to give way to dull weariness. He looked down at his hand where the ring sat heavy on his finger.

"Not myself," he muttered, twisting the band of gold gently.

"It's quite the blow you took," injected Oin. "Come with me and let me tend to my king."

"Indeed," said Balin. "Leave the front gate and the men to Sara and me."

Thorin looked to her as if seeking her approval.

"Nothing is going to happen while everything is burning anyway," she reassured. "And we'll come tell you what happens. Trust this to us and go get tended to."

Thorin looked at his hands, flexing his fingers. "Not myself," he muttered again. "Very well I will do as you wish. But I will have a few words alone with Sara."

Balin and Oin agreed and moved away, talking quietly.

"Are you okay?" asked Sara at length, watching Thorin fidget with his ring.

He blew out a breath. "It seems you would be better suited to tell me," he said, not meeting her eye. "Am I so far gone that you must step in for me?"

Sara shifted her weight uncomfortably. "You were pretty worked up just now. A lot like this morning."

He winced. "As bad as that?"

"Worse," she admitted.

He was silent for a long time, his eyes on the floor and a deep frown on his lips. "Sara, I want… I want you to keep a close eye on me."

"What exactly do you mean?" she asked, confused. It's not like she wasn't with him most of the time.

"I'm slipping. We can't afford to have me destroy all we worked for. I'm not sure why this pervasion of the mind has chosen now of all times to appear, but it cannot be allowed to have its way."

"Have you been hoarding gold?" she asked bluntly, thinking of the jewelry he admired just a few days before.

He shook his head. "I don't believe so, but I cannot be sure of even that much. There are blank spots in my memory of late. Please… stay close to me and… call me back when I slip into darkness. I know I am less and less fit by the day, but if I were to step aside now it might give the wrong impression. I don't want to start a panic or give up hope yet, and Fili is not…" But he trailed off.

"What if I can't call you back?"

"Then read the letter at your breast."

Her hand drifted to her shirt front where she often kept Thorin's unopened letter to her. She wanted to comfort him, wanted to assure him, wanted to assure herself that it would not come to that. But she knew she could not say it without sounding hollow and false. They both knew what was happening.

"Promise me something more," coaxed Thorin, his voice almost too quiet to hear. "Promise me you will protect yourself… even from me if need be."

She looked up at him, taking in his earnest but solemn expression.

"I… I cannot say I will always be in control of myself, so I want you to be on your guard. I could not bear it if I were to hurt you or…"

"I promise," she said, cutting him off. She could not stand to hear the end of his sentence. "I'll stay close. And I will stay on guard"

----------------------------------------

"Bilbo," asked Sara, running a wet hand over her shirt. Bilbo paused his scrubbing of the laundry and looked up at her. "Do you remember the date? I don't know if it's because we're underground or the crazy things that have been going on, but my days are starting to run together."

"Let me think a moment," he said, letting the wet cloth slip through his fingers as he counted under his breath. "The first of November, I believe."

"November already," she said, frowning and resuming her scrubbing. "I wish we knew exactly when the battle would happen."

"I'm just glad that the fires have finally burnt themselves out," said Bilbo.

The two of them were cleaning clothes in the fountain in front of Thorin's family residence. Smaug's remains had burned longer than expected, the enormous hunks of flesh charring and giving off a nauseating black smoke in the days after his incendiary end. Everyone had retreated deeper into the mountain in search of fresher, or at least cleaner air. As a result, much of their clothing was infused with the nauseating stench of charred rotting dragon. Unable to clear the front gate until the flames had subsided, it had been decided that those of able body would bend their strength to the task of cleaning the paths to the old food stores. But only one of the four locations had yielded anything that was still edible by any standard and even that would only last a day or two.

Bofur had been sent to the secret entrance to try and make contact with the men outside the mountain who were no doubt anxious to hear news of their families inside. The lack of communication with the outside world had a stifling effect on all inside the mountain. There was a palpable tension in the air, like a balloon stretched tight, anticipating a last breath or a prick to push it beyond endurance.

Conversations were quiet. Laughter was non-existent and everyone seemed ready to snap. Children stayed close to their mothers instead of wondering. The woman had set about cleaning up their temporary chosen residents but more people had arrived from Lake Town than anticipated. As a result, families were often two to a residence.

Despite the cramped quarters, Sara and her siblings had decided it was best for the children to stay with Dwalin and Balin for the time being. Originally she had thought to have them stay with her and Thorin, but after his recent outbreak and shift in behavior, they were better off elsewhere. Dwalin and Balin's family residence was not far off meaning she could keep them close but out of Thorin's way.

Thorin himself was becoming more difficult by the day. Despite his recent reinjury, Thorin had point-blank refused to stay in bed or rest past day two. Oin had finally given up after a particularly nasty chewing out during which Thorin had accused Oin of being a traitor and disloyal to his king. That had been just yesterday afternoon and since then Thorin had been downright caustic to any save Sara.

She had finally coaxed Thorin back into a calmer state but had been unable to keep him still. Instead, he had obstinately gone down to the residential district to see how the humans were getting on. After he'd prowled back and forth across the square several times and sent a woman fleeing in tears for having too many children, Sara had almost forcibly dragged him back to the residents. After another heated exchange which had almost sent her away in tears, she'd finally gotten him to sleep.

It was about noon and Thorin was still abed. She hadn't wanted to wake him for fear of setting him off again. So while the woman of the village set about to make the mountain more homely and the men and the dwarves worked to clear away the debris of the entrance hall, Sara remained behind. Bilbo had volunteered to stay with her as he was one of the few who didn't immediately spark Thorin's ire.

"Thorin certainly has slept long today," said Bilbo, mirroring Sara's train of thought. "Hopefully the sleep will improve his temperament."

She glanced back at the open front door, biting her lip. She could only agree with Bilbo and his hope that sleep would improve Thorin, but that hope was admittedly small. She frowned. In all the time she had known Thorin, she had not known him to sleep this late. She let the laundry fall back into the fountain with a slop.

"I'm going to check on him," she said. Without a word, Bilbo stood and followed her. They tiptoed through the house and approached Thorin's bedroom door. Sara turned the handle and cautiously peeked into the room.

"What's wrong?" asked Bilbo, watching her.

She pushed the door wide and they both stepped inside. They looked around the room. The bed was empty and rumpled.

"I don't understand," she said after a rapid check of the adjoining rooms. "He was here last night. I stayed with him till he was asleep."

"Have you not been staying the entire night with him?" asked Bilbo.

"Well… I… I have before," stammered Sara, feeling her face heat. "But nothing like that. It's just the past few days he's been so…"

"Has he been that bad?"

"No… I mean yes, he's been more abrasive lately but also when he's not ticked off about something it's all I can do to keep him… well.. at bay."

"At bay? Thorin?" asked Bilbo, his eyebrows shooting up under his limp curls.

"He's not himself in more ways than one. It's not just his paranoia and obsession. The feelings and expressions he's been having, I guess, are in a sense normal for him. I mean you remember how he was at the beginning of our journey don't you?" she explained as they quickly checked through the rest of the residents together.

"Who could forget," said Bilbo.

"Well, that's what I mean. He's always had tendencies toward distrust, suspicion, and secrecy. And he's a male dwarf so possessiveness and jealousy are not off the table either."

"Thorin has exhibited jealousy?"

She nodded. "I've seen small flashes of it before. Some small things with Bofur and there was a time he was jealous because he thought I was interested in Legolas romantically."

"Legolas? Prince Legolas, the elf?"

She nodded. "He mistook my almost hero worship for affection and desire."

"That would explain why he's always been a bit stiff around Legolas."

"Anyway, it's like all the emotions and tendencies he's normally got under control are loose and ramped up to ten. At least, all the less-than-desirable ones."

"That would explain a lot of his recent behaviors and reactions."

"I just wish I knew how to help him," she said as they checked the last room in vain.

"Well one thing's for sure, Thorin must have snuck out sometime last night," said Bilbo as they reached the front door. "The question is where would he go?"

"I hope he's not back down in the residential district," she said, biting her lip. "That could be bad."

"Let's spit up," suggested Bilbo. "I shall check the residential district and ask if he's been there. You go to the front gate and see if he maybe went there. I will try to bring him to the front gate if I find him. But it's more likely he's near the front gate observing the work. If he's neither place, then we can enlist some of the others to help find him."

"I don't like this. It feels wrong to search him out like a naughty child," she said knowing it was unavoidable.

They set off in search of Thorin. Walking in the ring of light cast by her elvish stone, Sara quickly followed Bilbo's signs to the remnants of the front gate. The cavernous room was no longer a blaze but the smell of charred flesh still hung heavy and thick in the air. The company was busy at work with the ten men from Lake Town trying to clear the debris. Any remaining chunks of dragon had been dragged off to a corner of the room and on the other side chunks of debris had been stacked. Despite the large piles on either side of the room, it didn't appear as though much had been accomplished. The entrance was clearly still blocked.

She searched the figures moving in the dim light of the braziers for Balin or Dwalin. It was Dwalin she spotted first, helping one of the men lift a large boulder onto a makeshift cart. Waiting until he was finished she approached him.

"Dwalin," she called quietly, trying not to draw attention to herself. He looked up, wiping his brow and smearing the grime across his forehead.

"Lass? What are you doing here?"

"Where is Balin? I need to talk to both of you."

His voice was low. "What is it? Is it Thorin?"

She nodded. "He's missing."

Dwalin's face sobered. "Wait here." In a moment he had found Balin. The old dwarf's face was pale under his beard which was gray and dirty.

"How long has he been missing?" asked Balin, taking her elbow. Beside them, Dwalin was watching their surroundings for eavesdroppers. She quickly told them.

"Have you told any of the others?" asked Balin.

She shook her head. "I haven't said anything. I was hoping to find him here."

"He has not been here, though we can check with Nori. He's up at the remains of the rampart."

"Don't give up hope on him yet lass," said Dwalin, as if he were able to sense her falling spirits. "He'll be alright."

"But for now we should find him," said Balin. "The company may have some inkling as to what's going on with Thorin, but the townspeople don't. I think it's best it remains that way."

They turned to leave the entrance hall but before they had gone they were met by a dark figure who jogged toward them. It took Sara several long confusing seconds to recognize the dwarf under the soot and grime. If it weren't for the hair teased into the telltale star shape she almost wouldn't have recognized Nori. He was almost entirely black from head to toe, covered in sooty grime.

"Balin! Perfect! You are the one I wanted," said Nori, but he froze when he caught sight of their faces. "What's happened?"

"Thorin is missing," said Sara.

"That is ill news," said Nori with a frown. "I have not seen him."

"Why were you seeking me out?" asked Balin, turning to Nori.

"There is a raven at the rampart."

"A raven?" asked Dwalin, watching Nori as though concerned the madness was catching.

"A talking raven," clarified Nori.

"Like in the book?" asked Sara.

"Exactly. He says he brings news to the king of the mountain."

"Will he speak to another?" asked Balin.

"I did not ask. I was not aware Thorin was missing at the time."

Balin frowned. "The news should not wait. Sara and Nori quickly come with me to the rampart. Dwalin, wait for Bilbo. If he has not found Thorin then the two of you organize the others and begin searching."

They parted ways and Sara followed after Nori and Balin to the rampart. She paused when they reached the steps that lead upwards to the overlook.

Catching her hesitancy Nori said, "The stairway is in a state. We figured all that smoke from Smaug escaped the mountain this way."

Sara could well believe it. The entire passageway and stairs were so blackened with soot and smoke that she reached for her elvish stone for additional light. She started after Nori but almost instantly felt the muscles in her back tighten as her foot slipped sideways. The stairs were slick with the greasy black grime of charred flesh. She took another step and slid sideways into the wall. Her hand and arm were instantly covered in the black pitch. The stuff rubbed between her fingers like oily paint. No wonder Nori was black from head to toe.

"Take my hand," said Nori, reaching for her. "I'll steady you and Balin will catch you from behind should you fall."

Grumbling about dwarfs' goat-like surefootedness she took Nori's hand and carefully inched and slipped her way up the black stairs till they finally reached the rampart. From this high position outside it was easy to see the damage that the explosion had caused. The rampart that had once stretched high above the front gate from side to side was now crumbled like so many crackers. Only about ten feet of the rampart remained semi-intact. Below them, the front gate lay buried beneath what seemed like a veritable mountain of stone and rock. Still, despite the grime and smell, Sara could not help but enjoy the sun and the sky.

A hoarse caw caught her attention. On the edge of the tumbled fragments of stone perched a large black bird, a raven as Bilbo had identified several days earlier. Balin approached the bird and gave a small bow.

"I am Balin, son of Fundin, at your service. I'm told your name is Roac and you possess the power of speech like your progenitors before you."

The bird hopped closer and tilted its head. "I am Roac, son of Carc," it croaked. "I have been one hundred, fifty, and three years from my egg. I bring tidings to the dwarves under the mountain."

"Has someone sent you?" asked Sara, thinking of Legolas or Gandalf.

"I have sent myself, oh chosen of the dwarf king," said the old bird, caulking his head to look at Sara. "Many things I would tell and many things I would ask."

"We are most anxious and grateful for any news you might bring us," said Balin. "What can you tell us? What can we tell you?"

"Where is the dwarf king who wears the ring of the dwarf kings before, Thorin son of Thrain?" asked the bird, hopping closer to peer at Sara.

She looked at Balin and Nori, unsure how to answer.

"He's indisposed at the moment," said Balin. "Injured in the recent explosion."

The bird didn't seem to hear Balin but hopped closer still to Sara. A moment later she flinched as a weight landed on her shoulder and she felt the brush of feathers across her face and the grip of the raven's feet.

"Why has the dwarf king brought humans into the mountain?" asked the raven.

"Sara has been a part of our company since the onset of this quest," said Nori, bristling slightly.

"I ask not about this human," said the bird nipping at Sara's hair. "I ask about the humans at large. Never before have I seen or heard of such a thing."

"There is a battle coming," said Sara, shifting her weight to better accommodate the large bird. "Thorin wanted to ally himself with the people from Lake Town. We all need a safe place from which to fight."

"You know of the armies of orcs and others amassing to the west then?" asked the bird.

"We do," said Balin. "We have known for some time."

"Your king made allies with the men, but what of the elves?"

"We have been working on our alliance with the elves," said Sara. "Fili and Kili, Thorin's nephews, went to re-establish our alliance with them."

"That is most unlike any dwarf in a very long time," said the raven, ruffling its feathers and brushing across Sara's face again. "I am pleased the people of stone are able to bend."

"Might we ask what news you bring us?" pressed Balin.

"Tidings both ill and grave. Your allies the elves are on their way and laden with many goods."

"But that's good news," said Nori, frowning.

"Laden as they are with goods they are moving slowly and they are now beset with the spiders of the forest."

"Surely the elves can handle a few spiders," scoffed Nori.

"A few yes, but a few they are not. The spiders have massed from the south forest and are sure to overrun the elves. The elf king's armies are not as they once were, for elves don't breed as do the humans. I tell you they are laden down and beset and at their backs, the orcs are closing in. If the elves cannot break free of the forest soon they will be surrounded and you and these people will never receive their aid or help."

"Why tell us this?" asked Nori. "We are trapped inside the mountain and even if we were to scale down this cliff, we are no more than 23 between the men and dwarves. Would you have us abandon the women and children to their own devices?"

"I simply bring you this news as I brought it to the dark man of the lake, Bard," rasped the bird with an indignant snap of his beak in Nori's direction.

"You spoke with Bard? My father?" asked Sara, trying to look over at the bird but getting a face full of feathers.

"I spoke with the lake man," confirmed the bird, shifting to sit on her arm which she raised.

Sara struggled a bit under the weight of the bird on her forearm. "What did he say?"

"He took the men to aid the elves. All save the 15 men and a few women which he is sending this way to help excavate the mountain," said the bird.

Nori cursed under his breath. "At least we don't need to worry about preparing houses for them immediately."

"Still," said Balin, "I wish we could do more to aid them. Fili and Kili are with them."

Sara's stomach dropped at the thought of it. Her father, Fili, Kili, Legolas, Tariel, and others were all stuck in the forest fighting off spiders. She shuddered as the memory of spindly hairy spider legs drew around her once again. What if one of them were hurt? What if they were bitten? Dwalin still had not recovered his bulk since his encounter with the spiders.

"Few you may be here under the mountain," said Roac. "But what of the army of dwarves marching from the Northeast?"

"Dain?" asked Balin, excitement etching his voice. "We have not yet heard from the Iron Hills. Are you saying Dain is on his way here?"

The bird dipped his head. "He is and with a fair golden elf in his party."

"That is most welcome news. I was beginning to fear Dain's stubbornness had thwarted our plans. Might you know how far away they are?"

"Two day's march to the mountain or half a day's flight."

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"That is better than we had hoped," said Nori.

"But it will still mean little if you starve in this mountain," said Roac.

Balin frowned and said something to Nori in dwarvish. Nori's eyebrows rose but after a few muttered words and a shrug he nodded. Balin turned back to the raven.

"Might we beg help once again from your people as we were great friends to the crows in times of old?" asked Balin.

"You might," said the bird, tilting his head and listening. "What would you ask?"

"That one of your people take a written missive to Dain of the Iron Hills. He might be persuaded to go aid the elves and lakemen."

"You think this Dain would turn aside to help?" asked the raven.

"We have no choice but to try. Many in the mountain are already malnourished and a week without food will mean casualties among the weak and sick. We need the supplies from the elves."

"Still," said the bird dubiously. "By all accounts, he is not a dwarf to bend."

"He might if it were a message from Thorin Oakenshield, King under the mountain, and his cousin," said Nori, glancing at Balin and Sara in turn.

Sara's attention jerked to Balin. A letter from Thorin? In his current state, assuming they found him. What was going through the old dwarf's head?

The raven hopped from Sara's aching arm and back to his rock perch excitedly. "Then my people would deliver such a wise missive."

"Can you wait for us to have a letter prepared?" asked Balin. "It may take us several hours as the halls of Erebor are quite expansive."

"I will wait," agreed the raven, bobbing his head.

"Then we shall take our leave," said Balin, giving a little bow to the raven before ushering Sara and Nori to the stairs.

A few slippery minutes later they had reached the bottom of the stairs and were once again in front of the entry hall but instead of Dwalin, they found Bilbo and Bofur. Spotting each other the groups hastened toward each other and ducked into a small side room.

"Bilbo, did you find Thorin," asked Sara.

"I did not," said Bilbo, glancing at Bofur. " But ah…"

"He's in the treasury," said Bofur, all his normal joviality replaced with grimness. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest defensively. There was a deep gouge and the shadow of a bruise forming on his left cheek. Blood from the cut was smeared across his face and had seeped down under the front of his collar.

Sara stepped closer. "What happened to your face?" Bofur looked at her, his expression hard for a moment before softening slightly.

"It was Thorin lass."

"Thorin? He did this to you?" She reached to inspect his face with one of her soot-smeared hands but Bofur caught her hand and held her at bay.

"I may be a mess but not in quite such a state as you three. You look like chimney sweeps," he said, trying to inject some humor back into his voice. Sara didn't buy it.

"Why would Thorin hit you?" she pressed. Bofur let his shoulders fall in surrender and let go of her wrist.

"As you know I went to make contact with the rest of the men of the lake. I suppose our little explosion and bonfire didn't go unnoticed because I ran into the Airidan who had been sent by the men."

"Where is he?" pressed Nori. "Did he bring news from Bard and the others?"

"I was bringing him back through the treasury room when we were attacked by Thorin," continued Bofur doggedly.

Sara's stomach dropped. "He… he attacked you?"

"Aye, he did. Plum out of his skull. Called us thieves and sneaks. He swore up and down he'd have no elves in Erebor."

"But you're a dwarf," said Bilbo. "Why would he hit you?"

"I got between him and Airidan," said Bofur simply.

"So he hit you?" asked Sara.

"Oh, I imagine he'd have done more than that if he'd had his sword, but he must've left it behind. He was in his night clothes. No armor, no sword, no boots even. Just rummaging through piles of gems and stones."

"What was he looking for?" asked Bilbo, rubbing one foot over the other.

"What else, the arkenstone," said Bofur. "At any rate, Airidan could tell Thorin was not in his right mind and he decided it'd be better for him to leave. Once Airidan was gone Thorin went back to his treasure hunting, completely ignoring me. I came back here to report and found Dwalin and Bilbo. After hearing my story Dwalin set off after Thorin and good luck to him."

"At least we now know where he is," said Nori, pulling at one of the points of his blackened beard.

"Tell me," said Bofur, plucking at Sara's soot-covered shirt and rubbing his fingers together. "Why do you look like you were dipped in ink?"

Quickly they told the others about Roac, his message, and their plan to send Dain to help the elves.

"But Balin," said Sara, turning to the old dwarf. "How on Earth are we going to convince Thorin to write a letter to Dain? He just attacked Bofur and Airidan. He's not about to send his cousin to help the elves."

"Because," said Balin, "I'm going to write it. All you have to do is get him to sign it."

"He'll never sign it. Not in his current state."

"He listens to you."

"Not anymore. Clearly, his being in the treasury is proof of that."

"What other choice do we have, Sara?"

"But," she said hesitating. "Can't… can't we just send the letter? Does it have to be from Thorin?"

"Won't do, lass," said Nori. "Dain is twice as stubborn as Thorin and much less likely to listen to reason. The request must be from Thorin."

"Then… then," she said, feeling a bit guilty for suggesting it. "Can't we just forge his signature? I mean he would sign it if he were in his right mind."

They all looked at her silently for several awkward moments not speaking.

"That would be treason," said Balin at last.

"Besides which," added Nori. "Dain would spot the deception and that would only cause more trouble. If you can't talk some sense into him, at least long enough for him to sign it then…"

"All right," said Sara. "Alright, I'll try. But don't hold your breath."

"I will go and draft it now," said Balin. "I'll bring it to Thorin's residence."

With a few more parting words and instructions the group dispersed. Bilbo caught up to Sara as she turned a corner. She glanced over at him but they walked in silence for several minutes. At last, she spoke.

"Bilbo, do you have the arkenstone? You do, don't you," she said watching as his steps slowed and he rubbed one hairless foot over the other. He looked up at her biting his lip.

"I can tell you honestly I don't have the arkenstone," he hedged.

"But," she prompted, watching his brown eyes dart to the side.

"But I do know where it is."

She let out a sigh of relief. "That's good. I'm not sure what is causing Thorin to change but my gut says that with Thorin so obsessed with the stone in the book, it would be bad if Thorin were to find it in reality. Also, we may have to use it like you did in the book… as a bargaining chip."

"I was afraid of that," said Bilbo gloomily. "Though it might be tricky to get a hold of, what with Thorin searching the treasury."

"It's there?"

Bilbo nodded. "Before Smaug woke I found the gem. I'm not sure why but I felt rather impressed to hide it. I've been feeling quite guilty about it actually. It's inside a statue of armor wrapped in my handkerchief."

"If I can keep Thorin occupied, do you think you could get it? I think it would be better to hide it close by where we can have quick access to it."

"You truly think you can keep him occupied long enough?"

"I'll have to somehow."

----------------------------------------

Thorin stormed down the halls of his youth, his bare toes scuffing through the dust and grime. Curse Dwalin for interrupting his secret search. The warrior had been spouting ridiculous nonsense about talking birds. The smoke had clearly fowled everyone's minds if they could not handle such simple matters without him. There were more pressing matters for him to attend to.

The bodies of the two additional spies from Lake Town had not been found. They were alive somewhere in the mountain, he could feel it. The greedy human dogs were no doubt trying to plunder his treasure, in cahoots with the elves. They had already conspired to steal the black arrow. Little did they know that it was now safe in his quarters and his grandfather's ring never left his finger. Couldn't risk it being taken. He could not bear the thought of being parted from it. Only one treasure remained for him to secure. And though his search has been fruitless today, he felt he was close to discovering the Arkenstone. He was sure it was in the treasury. He'd been so close but then Bofur had led the Elvin spy through the secret entrance. Curse Bofur for the traitor he was. The toymaker had shown his true colors.

Now Thorin was determined to find not only the Arkenstone but the elf king's prize gems of Lasgalen as well. Let the elf king squirm and fret over his lost gems. His hand sank into his pocket, his fingertips sifting through the loose stones before catching on the chain of the finely crafted necklace. Indeed, let the elf beg for his wife's precious gems. It would please him to see the pompous elf brought low.

He was nearing the residence now and he could see the front door ajar. Was it a spy perhaps? Here to steal his treasures! But a moment later Sara appeared in the doorway carrying empty buckets before she made her way to the fountain. He watched her, the tension in his muscles easing.

She caught sight of him and the buckets fell from her hands, clattering on the hard stone. "Thank heavens, Thorin," she gushed, rushing toward him. But she hesitated the last few steps as her eyes swept over him.

She was filthy, covered head to toe in black soot, her eyes and teeth flashing white in her smeared face.

"Why do you hesitate?" he asked, watching her wary green eyes dart across his face. "Do I frighten you so?"

She shook her head but didn't come closer.

"Then why do you not greet me? Do not fear to dirty me. I require a bath regardless."

"Are you sure? Bofur said I look like a chimney sweep."

A flair of hot jealousy shot through him and he lunged forward, catching her wrist and dragging her close to him. She squeaked in surprise but didn't resist as he slipped his arms around her waist. He drew her body to his trying to close every empty space between them.

"If you are a chimney sweep, you are mine," he said, brushing her dark hair out of her face. "You are mine and no others. Bofur would do well to keep his eyes and tongue to himself."

Sara opened her mouth to argue. She would argue over everything but in a moment his mouth had covered and filled hers. She gasped satisfactorily as one of his hands slid to her backside and another to her chest. She froze momentarily as his thumb rubbed over her chest, but to his gratification she gave into him, her body melting into his like hot wax. She could be so soft, so pliant at moments like this. Satisfied her thoughts were for him alone, he pulled away, pleased with the hazed look in her eyes. His satisfaction was short-lived as her eyes cleared once again and focused sharply on him.

"Where have you been?" she asked, biting her bottom lip which was slightly swollen.

He drew back slightly. "It is of no consequence. It was unprofitable."

"Bofur said…"

"I don't wish to hear anything that traitor has to say," he snapped.

Sara's arms fell from his waist and she took a step back. "He said you were down in the treasury looking for the arkenstone."

"It's not his concern," he said, releasing her and making his way to the front door.

"I thought we agreed that it's a bad idea for you to spend time around treasure," she said, following him through the front room and into the hall.

"I have my reasons." He threw the door to his bedroom open and it banged against the wall.

"What reason?" she argued. "We don't need the arkenstone. Dain is already on his way. The raven Roac says he's almost here; which you would know if you hadn't been in the treasury."

"I must have it for its own sake," he said, sinking into a chair. "There are spies and thieves about."

"Spies and thieves? Like Bofur and Airidan?" she said hotly. "I can't believe you attacked them!"

"How did you know of that?"

"I saw Bofur's face," she said, her voice loud and her arms crossed tightly over her chest. It was silent for a long moment. When she spoke again her voice was quiet. "You hit Bofur, for bringing Airidan, a friend who helped save me and kill Samsung, back into Erebor. I don't… I don't understand Thorin."

"You couldn't understand. The elf was a spy and Bofur was leading him."

"After all we have been through you would call Airidan a spy? After Bofur followed you all the way here… you call him a traitor? What's happening to you Thorin?"

"Nothing has happened to me. I have reclaimed my home and it's been overrun with humans and infiltrated by my enemies."

"What enemies?" she cried, hysterically. "The enemies are out there! The orcs and spiders are closing in on Erebor, on the elves who are bringing us supplies so we don't starve."

"Let them overrun the elves."

"Have you forgotten who is with the elves?" she asked, her face pale. It was silent for a long moment. "Thorin have you forgotten where Fili and Kili are?"

Fili and Kili? Where were they? Why was his mind so murky on the subject? He couldn't quite…

"Thorin, Fili and Kili are with the elves. You agreed to send them back to King Thranduel to renegotiate an alliance after what Saurman did. Fili and Kili are under attack by spiders and if we don't do something soon the orcs will be on them too."

Why would he have sent Fili and Kili to Thranduel? They did not need the elves. Was Sara lying? But what reason would she have to do that? Then again she kept her own reasons and had lied to him before. He flexed his stiff knuckles and felt the pull of tight flesh. There was blood smeared across his hand and embedded in his ring.

"Thorin," pressed Sara. "We have to help them."

He twisted the ring on his finger. No, Sara must be manipulating him again. He would not have sent Fili and Kili to his enemies. It wasn't true, she was simply trying to ensure that elf prince's safety.

"If what you say is true, they are dwarves. They are no stranger to hardship. They will endure."

"Endure!?" she said, her voice cracking with hysteria. "Have you seen Dwalin? A spider bite all but killed him. He is still half the size he used to be. He's as bad off as some of the men from Lake Town! And the orcs… I … I remember what happened to Ruven. Every night I remember it Thorin."

It would be just like a woman to play that type of cheap trick. They all had bad memories to smother. Why should he let her manipulate him with hers? Likely Fili and Kili were simply off working and had been too busy to see him lately.

"They are Durin's folk. They will be fine."

"Thorin… even if you aren't concerned for Fili and Kili the elves are bringing supplies we all need. We will starve without food."

"You exaggerate."

She fumbled a moment with her belt and then pulled the leather free from her trousers, holding them up with her other hand. "Do you see this Thorin?" she said, holding the belt aloft. "See how many new holes I have had to cut into this belt to keep it from falling off my hips! I'm human Thorin. So is my family and many others. We are slowly starving. Have you seen Bilbo's face? His cheekbones are now sharper than the points of his ears."

"What would you have me do," he asked, trying to keep the growl out of his voice.

"We need to help Fili and Kili. We need to help the elves."

It was silent for a long moment as he stared at her. Let more elves into Erebor? Help the elves? The elves were the enemy, the traitors who had left his people to die in the jaws of Smaug.

"No."

Sara let out a small breath, shaking her head. "Then we are all lost, because of you."

With these final words she turned and left.

For half a moment he felt a vague but urgent desire to chase after her, to bring her back and explain everything. But the moment passed and he shook himself. Let the foolish girl go. She couldn't understand, wouldn't understand. He was the only one who could see the danger, the only sane being in this mountain. He had to protect it. Sara would come round. He knew she would. She was smart, usually. The arkenstone was no mere stone; it was his birthright and it must be found. He would go on searching for it, but later for now his stomach was empty and his body was weary.

Though his ribs were mending, he was still stiff. He pulled one arm across his chest wincing as a dull pain throbed through his chest. He was not healing quickly enough. He was running out of time. He paused. Running out of time for what? He had a nagging feeling that he was forgetting a deadline. Something important, but what was it? He puzzled a moment more before letting the feeling slip back into the shadows of his mind. The only thing that mattered was protecting his home, his treasure, his birthright.

----------------------------------------

Sara sat outside the front door slumped against the wall, her head in her hands. The fight with Thorin had been unreal. She'd never imagined seeing him so unreasonable, so immune to common sense and logic. Sure he had been slipping lately… but to completely forget where Fili and Kili were and refuse to send help to them? She reached inside her shirt and pulled out the letter Thorin had given her in Lake Town. If there was ever a doubt that he was now past reason, that argument had just erased it. Curse this dragon sickness. Not even the threat of starvation had brought him to his senses.

She held the envelope to her forehead still not quite ready to open it. To do so would be to admit that Thorin was beyond her reach, that he was lost. She couldn't seem to bring herself to accept it and yet she slipped her thumb under the fold to pop the wax seal. Approaching footsteps stopped her and she stuffed the envelope back in her shirt scrambling to her feet. She relaxed as a familiar white beard and hair materialized out of the gloom.

"Balin," she said, letting out a breath.

"Aye lass, it's me. I brought some food and the letter."

Her stomach gurgled. "Where did you get food?"

"Nori," was Balin's short reply. "He's been stashing food away and Bombur caught him. It was quite the rowe but eventually Nori agreed to let Bombur prepare it. It really wasn't much but still."

She took the warm bowl in her hands. She hadn't eaten since the night before and the pinch had long since turned into a stab. Yet despite this the thought of food was unappetizing.

"Thank you."

"I take it Thorin's back?"

She nodded morosely.

"Is he that bad lass?"

"I don't know how to get through to him, Balin. Nothing I've said even registers."

Balin twisted a corner of his beard between his fingers. "It is imperative we get this letter signed then." He held out the envelope and Sara took it uncertainly.

"I don't think I can get him to do it."

"You must, lass. By whatever means necessary he must sign it and in his own hand. I hate to admit it, but it seems clear to me that Thorin is destined to follow his father and grandfather's examples."

Sara closed her eyes and tilted her face to the sky. Balin was right, Thorin was out of reach. Her eyes grew hot and prickly as she fought for composure. How much longer before he didn't even know her. Before he called her a traitor? She let out a wobbly breath.

"I'm sorry lass, I know it's hard for ya."

"Do you think there's any hope at all?"

Balin thought for a long moment. "I have to believe there is, but it's unlikely to come before the battle. Perhaps the elves will know of something that would help but in his current state with his impaired thinking…"

"It's even more dangerous for him to be in battle," she finished.

Balin nodded. "Not only for himself but for others."

"I'll try," she said at last.

"You know where to find me when it's done," he said, turning to leave.

Not ready to face Thorin again so soon she found herself in Thorin's old room where she had been spending her nights the past few days. She set the food and Balin's letter on the bedside table and slumped onto the bed. She pulled Thorin's envelope from her shirt and reluctantly lit her elvish light. She hunched over a pillow staring at the offending envelope for several long minutes. Finally she snatched it up and tore it open. Two folded pieces of parchment fell out onto the bed, one labeled in what looked like dwarvish and the other with her name on it. She picked up the one with her name and with trepidation began to read.

"Sara,

"If you have been forced to resort to this letter then all my fears about the future must have come to fruition. I have succumbed to dragon sickness.

"I am sorry that you will have most likely been the one to bare the brunt of my downfall and likewise that I must continue to ask you to function as such. I watched my father and grandfather descend into madness and I feared that I would meet the same fate. This fear has driven me to make preparations that I hope will ensure the future we have worked for. These two letters I entrust to you. You may find it strange that I would ask this of you rather than entrust Balin or one of the others with it. I fear their loyalty would run too deeply and that they would forestall or completely deny the need for intervention. I saw it happen with my father and grandfather; those around them could clearly see their decline but out of their deep sense of loyalty, particularly that held for their King, they felt themselves unable to act.

Forgive me for saying so but you are not burdened by such an iron-like loyalty. I feel I can rely on your emotions for me and your unwavering desire to see the best possible future to drive you to actions that would to my people feel tantamount to treason or sedition. What I have asked has not been easy and what I have yet to ask will be even more so.

The envelope written in my people's language contains instructions that will set in motion Fili's ascension to the throne. Yes I know I said that the throne was passed through combat or the death of a previous king but there is one other instance through which the crown may be passed. The kings of my people have always been expected to lead their people into battle. But in cases where, due to injury or severe illness, the king was unfit and never would be again, there was an exception made. In those instances and only during times of war and unrest, the king has been allowed to pass the throne to his successor.

To my knowledge this has never been used in a case like mine and was reserved for those with physical injury or malady. However my people are also rarely if ever afflicted in their minds. I can only hope that Fili and the others will see the sense of this measure and extend their understanding to my particular extenuating circumstances.

If you have resorted to this letter I feel it's safe to say I am beyond all known help. I know that for my sake you will have held out as much as possible, but I also trust you will do what is necessary. The other letter must be delivered to Balin. The others may resist you, but you must convince them for this is the best. I feel Balin will support you but I cannot say about the others. They must be made to see this is the only way.

Now even should you convince the others I feel confident in saying that at the time you read this I will deny having written this letter. You must do whatever is necessary to see that the instructions in these letters are followed. I am sure to resist and I fear the others will not have the heart to keep me from fouling my own plans. This method of ascension is meant to be a peaceful willing affair and I suspect that I will feel anything but willing peacefulness. Whatever you need to do to see to your ends, do so. Use whatever means necessary and feel no guilt over your actions on and for my behalf.

The fear of my people's future is not all that plagues me. I also fear how I may have treated you should you be reading this. I hope you will be able to see through the madness and remember all the things I have said when I was myself. I would extend my most humble and sincere apologies. Please do not believe anything I may have said. I care for you more than I can express or explain. You have become as dear to me as my own kin and in some ways dearer. You are a brave tenacious woman who I have been glad to have at my side. You have a way of drawing the true strength of others from those around you. You have made me stronger and weaker than any other that I have known.

Knowing that you will do what is best for the company and my people I can close this letter with no regrets save one. That regret is that I will be unable to fulfill my dreams and desires for our future. There is no known cure for dragon sickness. I fear it shall be the true end of me as I am. I wish for you to move on. Do not dwell over me and my fate. See to your own happiness and future. I would ask only that when you do think of me that you would remember me with kindness as I once was and not as I must have surely become.

Be happy my Sara. Farewell,

Thorin."

The letter crumpled as Sara slumped forward bringing her clenched fists to her forehead. She had suspected something of this nature but she hadn't expected to feel so gutted. Thorin had in essence given up. Not only had Thorin given up on his sanity, but his own throne, and even on his relationship with her.

She fisted her fingers into her hair as she shook her head trying to push down the sob of frustration roiling in her chest. How could he just expect this of her? Whatever means necessary? That's what he had said. What did he expect of her? What would she be required before this was all over. Would it ever even be over for Thorin?

She tried to push that aside. Thorin was not himself but just because he had given up on his sanity didn't mean she was going to. But at the same time she could not wait for him to come to his senses. The battle was coming and Balin was right; the way Thorin was now he was a danger to himself and others. She had to keep him safe and alive… but out of the way.

She glanced at the letter for Fili and Balin and the letter for Dain. Whatever means necessary? In his current state both letters were necessary but the one for Balin would be of no use without Fili here. She had to get Fili, Kili, and the Elves to the mountain first. Should she perhaps approach the others about Thorin's letter now? No. Better to get Fili here first. Fili and Balin should be firmly on her side and then they could perhaps tell the others one by one. But how to get Thorin to sign the letter for Dain.

One thing was for sure… he would not sign it willingly… not under his own power at any rate. He couldn't know what was in the letter if he was to sign it. She briefly reconsidered trying to forge his signature, but then remembered what Nori had said about Dain. If he suspected the signature was forged it would arouse his suspicions and discount all that was in the letter and could draw Dain to the mountain faster. No, the others were right. It had to be Thorin.

She rose from the bed and tucked Thorin's letters to her and Fili under the old mattress of the bed. It would not do to have Thorin find them now, he might destroy them what with their last argument. She caught sight of the bowls of food Balin had brought and sighed, reaching for one. She needed to eat. It would have been better if she could have slept on all the new information, but that was not an option. Roac was waiting to take the letter. She twirled the spoon in the grain mash and absently began to eat.

How was she to approach Thorin and convince him to sign the letter? One thing was clear, argument would not work, Thorin was beyond reason now. She groaned, knowing that if he were to sign it, it would require a farce. She absently wondered if that was why Balin insisted that it be her to get him to sign… they could not do it without becoming literal traitors to their king. Heaven help her if Thorin should find out. She could still vividly remember the look on his face outside Mirkwood when she had confessed to lying to him. She was not eager to see that look again… and she had made him a promise that there would be no more lies or secrets. But then again he had told her to do whatever was necessary and feel no guilt over it. Still, it left a bitter taste in her mouth thinking about it… or maybe that was just the food.

She kicked out in frustration at her bag but paused when she heard a rattling sound. Inspiration striking, she gathered the bag and dug through it. Yes… this idea might just do the trick and it would give Bilbo a chance to get the Arkenstone as well. It would take a lot of tact and careful tiptoeing around Thorin's ego, but it she were clever it just might work.

----------------------------------------

The soft knock at the door came just as Thorin had suspected it would. He paused, half in and half out of his tunic. He had been about to avail himself of the warm water he found in the tub.

"Thorin," came her quiet call. Pulling the tunic off he tossed it to the bed before going to the door. He opened it to find her standing there holding a bowl of what appeared to be mush. A look of embarrassment overtook her face as she looked away.

"Sorry," she said, her eyes flicking to him. "I can come back if you're busy."

He pushed the door wider, allowing her entrance. "Come," he said, turning as she stepped in.

"Balin brought some food and I thought you would be hungry." His stomach gave a rumble and she set the food on the table near armchairs. She fidgeted for a long moment in the following silence. "It was cold but I reheated it."

Why was she so uneasy? It was unlike her. He approached her and was dissatisfied when she stiffened. Ah, yes, they had had an argument. About what he could not seem to recall, but she had stormed off.

"I'm sorry," she said, breaking the silence. Unsure how to respond, he waited hoping she would say more. "I'm sorry that we argued and for the things I said." She said the words clearly enough, yet she still couldn't seem to look him in the eye. Was it his state of undress?

Not wanting to put her even more at unease he sank into a chair and picked up the bowl of … food. Hardly fit food for a king, but…

"Have you eaten?" he asked, stirring the pulp.

She nodded, picking at the hem of her tunic. "I had mine already while I was listening to Balin's report."

He looked up at her. She was still quite the sight. She had tried to wash up, that much was clear. Her clothes were fresh but her skin was still smeared and streaked with greasy black pitch. Still, she had brought him this food. He began to eat.

"He did not come report to me himself?"

She shook her head. "No, he left that to me, seemed to think it was best."

"And what did he report?"

"Dain is two days away," she said simply. "While you were looking for the Arkenstone we met with a talking raven named Roac. He told us."

"That is good news," he said, around a mouthful. Despite the unappetizing appearance of the food he found that he was ravenous and was making short work of the food, although there was a slightly bitter taste to the food, a bitterness he was unfamiliar with. Still, his stomach demanded he eat it all.

"Any other news?"

She hesitated. "My father took a majority of the remaining men to go see what they can do to help the elves."

So Bard had taken the men back to Merkwood? So be it. Let them help the elves if they so choose. They had chosen their allies. Just let them come knocking later and they would find Erebor's doors closed. Not that they were exactly open currently. Sara shifted her weight, biting her lip.

He softened slightly. "You worry for your father?"

She nodded. "They are headed back into Mirkwood and Roac says the spiders have come up from the south. It will be very dangerous. I wish… I wish I could help."

He set his empty bowl to the side and beckoned her closer. She hesitated but came to him and he pulled her down into his lap. He slipped his arms around her and was about to draw her into a kiss when he stopped. Her dirty face was streaked and smeared with tears. He frowned.

"You have been crying?"

She looked away. "It doesn't matter." His grip on her tightened.

"You are mine. It matters. Who has made you cry?"

"It was several things," she finally admitted. "But mostly it was our argument earlier."

He drew back. "I must admit I don't recall much of it."

She sighed. "You have been forgetting a lot lately."

Had he? He did seem to have a constant niggling that there was something just waiting to emerge from the back of his mind but when he tried to focus and bring it forward it slipped out of his grip like a fish.

"Tell me? All I can seem to remember is that it had something to do with the toymaker."

"Yeah, some of it was about Bofur," she said with a nod, not looking at him.

He nodded and waited, trying not to let his grip on her waist grow tighter lest he bruise her. A look of sadness flooded over her face. He didn't like her thinking of another. A flash of jealousy shot through him.

"Do you prefer the toymaker?" he asked, suddenly unable to hold it in.

She turned to look at him now and determination filled her eyes. She reached for him, taking his face in her small hands.

"Thorin Oakenshild," she said. He sucked in a breath as her fingers sunk into his beard. She looked him directly in the eyes. "You are the only one I've been attracted to since arriving here in Middle-Earth. Not Legolas, not Bofur. No one but you. I hope that whatever else you may forget, that you remember that." The look of sadness was back on her face as she finished.

"Remind me," he prompted drawing her closer. To his satisfaction she sank to meet his lips, kissing him deeply. He breathed her in, her scent washing over him and calming the nerves he hadn't realized were frayed. His brain was dulled, slow, but her tongue slipped into his mouth and suddenly it was not enough to simply have her in his lap. He wanted her in the bed. He wanted her completely. He groaned and pulled her around so she was straddling his hips and rocked into her.

"Thorin," she said, breathlessly as he kissed her neck, sucking at her soft skin. He cared not that she tasted like ash. All he wanted was her closer to him. Why should he not have her here and now? She had admitted that she cared for no other. No one would disturb them and given her reactions she was more than willing. Still rocking his hips against hers he slipped his hands up under her tunic, running his fingers over her soft skin as he pushed them higher.

"Thorin," she moaned. But the moment his fingers found the soft swell of her breast she jerked away from him. Her hands caught his, holding them at bay. "We… we can't."

"I most certainly could," he countered.

"We shouldn't," she corrected, rising from his lap. His fingers itched to catch her and drag her back to him. "Your ribs are still recovering."

"They are well enough. I care not."

"Thorin, I care. And I am filthy from the stairway to the rampart."

"That is easily remedied. You are stalling."

She was silent for a long moment, not meeting his eyes. "Perhaps, but it's just not something I am ready for." She looked up at him, her expression exhausted and melancholy. "I think you would come to regret it too," she added.

That took him aback. Regret it? "Why would you think such a thing?"

"Because I think you would want to be fully yourself."

Fully himself? Was he lacking in some manner? But her expression held him at bay, disappointed as he was.

"Very well," he said with a sigh. It was silent for a long time.

"Is your hand ok?" she asked at last.

He glanced down at his hand. It was smeared in blood. His own or someone else's? Both? Concerned she took his hand in hers examining it. She walked into one of the back rooms and returned with a bowl of water and a cloth. She pulled a chair over in front of him.

"Here," she said, sitting and holding her hand out for his. He allowed her to take it. She pursed her lips, frowning as she studied his hand. She tugged at his ring and he jerked his hand back, startling her.

"You're ring… it's dirty," she said. "I was going to wash it and your hand."

"It's fine where it is." He feared to be parted from the ring. It was part of him.

"You don't trust me?" she asked, watching him.

He hesitated. "I do," he said at last and relinquished his hand to her once again. It's not like she would take the ring anywhere. He would be able to see it at all times. She gripped the ring but seemed to have trouble pulling it over his knuckle.

"Let me." He pulled his hand away and moved to slide the ring off, but he had only gripped the band when… What was he doing? Removing his ring? Why? The ring belonged on his finger at all times.

"Is it stuck?" asked a voice.

He blinked and looked up at Sara who sat before him with a bowl of water and a rag.

"Thorin?" she called, frowning. "You okay?"

He had been about to remove the ring so Sara could clean it. With what seemed a monumental effort he pulled the ring from his finger and then hesitated. He looked down at the small gold band with its gem set deep, the firelight reflecting from its depths. Sara's hand found his and gently took the ring from him.

"Thank you," she said, rubbing the ring in the cloth.

The moment the ring left his hand a band seemed to loosen around his chest. The fog that had been over his mind lifted somewhat.

"Sara?" he asked, feeling as though he had missed something.

"Yes?" she asked absently as she swished the ring in the water.

He looked around and felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him. "Never mind. It's of no consequence. He watched through closing eyes as she washed the ring and set it aside. She then dipped the cloth in the bowl and began to wash his hand. The silence stretched on for a while and then Sara glanced up at him.

"You know… Balin has written a letter to Dain."

He frowned. "Dain? We have news of him?"

She glanced up at him with a strange look of pity on her face. "We got word from a talking raven named Roac that Dain is two days away."

"I see. And what of this letter?"

"Well, it's just a letter telling Dain what has been going on. Balin wrote about the death of Smaug, the preparations made for the townspeople, and everything that has been going on in the mountain since we sent Glo… sent for his help."

"I assume you mean to use this Roac to send this letter?"

She nodded, rinsing out the bloody cloth. "We… We were wondering if you wanted to include your signature at the end of the letter next to Balin's. Balin thought that it would add credibility to the letter and assure Dain that you are well."

He thought for a long moment as she dried his now clean hand. Perhaps hearing of their escapade and struggles in the defense of the mountain against the invaders would urge Dain to arrive sooner rather than later. "Very well, where is this letter you intend for Dain?"

She dug into the front of her shirt and pulled out a folded parchment. She unfolded the bottom of the letter and he reached for the quill on the table beside them. He reached for the paper and began to unfold it, intending to read the letter but Sara reached out a hand to stop him.

"Will you not let me read it?" he asked.

"It's not that you can't," she said, still not letting go of the letter. "It's just that Roac has been waiting several hours and Balin still has to return the letter to the rampart. And we've already kept him waiting quite a while.

He studied her for a moment, watching her bite at the corner of her mouth. Her eyes were avoiding his again.

"Sara, is something amiss?"

"I'm just worried that Roac will fly off if we don't get it to him soon."

"But why will you not look at me?"

She glanced at him, her cheeks slightly pink. "I… I'm just not used to seeing you without your shirt. It's a bit distracting."

Ah… so that was it. Feeling a small amount of satisfaction he relaxed his grip on the letter. "Very well. I'll sign it now."

She visibly relaxed and he dipped the quill before reaching forward and quickly signing the exposed bottom of the parchment. He returned the quill to its place on the table and stifled a large yawn as he reached for his ring.

"Tired?" she asked, folding the letter back up.

"More so than I had realized," he said, casting a sidelong glance at the inviting bed. "Care to join me?"

She gestured at her dirty body. "Like this after I worked so hard to clean everything?"

He slipped the ring on his finger. She was avoiding him again. "After a bath then?"

"I have to get this letter to Blain first and then take a bath."

His body was heavier than it had been moments before, sleep tugging at his mind as it was enveloped in fog again. "Letter?" he asked, not sure what she was talking about.

Sara frowned and came over to him. "Dont worry about it," she said, taking his arm and leading him towards the bed. She pulled the covers back and he gratefully sank into the bed, his eyes only just open. She pulled the blankets higher and it was all he could do to stay awake. She turned to leave but he caught her arm.

"Stay with me."

"I can't, but I will be back. I promise."

Reluctantly he let go. She crossed the room and collected his bowl before going to the door, but she paused.

"Thorin," she called, bringing him back from the brink of oblivion.

"Yes?"

"Do you really still trust me even after I lied to you?"

"I understand why you did, and I trust you not to do so again."

She was quiet for a long moment. "You know I care about you right?"

He nodded.

"And I only want what's best for you… what you have asked of me?"

He muddled back through the haze of his mind. "Sara, is something amiss?"

"No," she said after a pregnant pause. "Everything will be fine." With that, she slipped out the door and he slipped into slumber.

----------------------------------------

The front door creaked open in protest as Sara stepped outside. She was unsurprised to find Bilbo and Balin sitting near the water fountain talking quietly. Seeing her the conversation ceased and they both rose to greet her. Before either of them could ask, she withdrew the letter from her pocket and held it out to Balin. Taking it from her, he unfolded the lower portion and revealed Thorin's signature.

"Well done Miss Sara," praised Balin.

"However, did you manage it?" asked Bilbo.

Sara glanced at Balin and hesitated. "There is a reason Balin asked me to do it."

"Perhaps it's best that secret remained with Sara alone," agreed Balin.

Her shoulders relaxed, glad Balin would not require any explanation. He would not like it.

"How long do you think it will be until Fili and Kili arrive," she asked Balin, thinking of another letter tucked under her mattress.

"I would suspect no less than five days, though possibly more."

"And there's no way to get them here faster?"

"I know you were worried but the lads will be alright."

"It's more than just me worrying," she said. "I… we all need them here in the mountain as soon as possible. Could we send a message to them? Even if only a day sooner, every minute matters now."

"It's Thorin as bad as all that?" asked Bilbo.

"He's forgetting things. He doesn't remember the battle is coming. He called Fili and Kili traitors for being with the elves."

"Like Bofur," said Bilbo with a frown.

She nodded. "I'm afraid if we don't get them back here soon, he won't take them back at all."

"I see," said Balin, pensively. "I could perhaps see if Roac would be willing to send them a message as well. It may not do any good, then again it may."

"Thank you," she said. "Anything is better than nothing."

"Then I shall take my leave," said Balin.

In moments it was just her and Bilbo standing in the gloom.

"Bilbo, do you remember our conversation from earlier?"

He glanced up at her and nodded. "Yes, what of it?"

"Now would be an excellent time to secure a certain item."

"Now? But what about Thorin?"

She let out a weary sigh. "Let's just say Thorin will be bed bound for a while."

Bilbo looked at her confused. Should she trust him with the secret? She desperately wanted an alli in all this and the rest of the company were out of the question. But Bilbo had proven himself in the past. She needed a friend. She pulled the small pill bottle from her pocket and rattled it. Bilbo's eyes widened.

"You… you drugged him?"

She winced but nodded before tucking the bottle back in her pocket.

"He'll not be happy if he discovers it," said Bilbo.

"Then let's hope he doesn't. And let's hope I have enough to last."