"So, dwarves, aye?"

Bilbo slightly jumped, snapping his head in the direction where the voice came from. He didn't really know what he was expecting, considering that there was only one girl in the whole company, and she just spoke to him. Rose's face was lit with one of her most beautiful smiles, one Bilbo could remember very well, and he smiled back fondly.

"You're already talking like them," Bilbo said, pulling the piece of cloth out of his pocket. He hid it when he realised someone joined him on the walk, but once he recognised Rose, he relaxed. She meant no harm... Not like the dwarf who dropped the said cloth.

"Are you blaming me? It's extremely catchy," Rose laughed, looking around the company. Most of the dwarves were walking in front of them, only Bifur and Bombur were behind them, closing the line. Everyone was burdened with heavy bags, for they took the food that remained from yesterday with them, and it slowed them somewhat. "They are such a merry gathering."

"Now you just sounded exactly like Gandalf," the halfling looked back at Rose. He felt the small unpleasant knot growing in his chest that only meant he was missing Gandalf again. He had so many questions for the wizard, but he wasn't there to answer them. "He would like you."

Rose looked at him and her smile seemed to fade only the tiniest bit. It didn't fade from her eyes, though.

"Perhaps," she said silently. Bilbo knew she had her thoughts somewhere else, but he didn't have to ask, for she spoke sooner. "I wonder why Thorin doesn't feel that way."

Bilbo's heart quickened at the mention of the dwarf king. His fingers immediately started shaking and, before he could've dropped it, he swiftly pushed the band back to his pocket. He could feel Rose eyeing him suspiciously, but he didn't want to say anything. He had a possible explanation for the strange behaviour of Thorin, but it still felt way too surreal to speak of.

Since morning, nothing was the same. Bilbo felt dizzy in the head, like he didn't really know where he was going and he just followed the others. His heart was heavy in his chest, like it wasn't his heart anymore but a huge piece of stone, and, at the simple thought of Thorin, it was about to explode in his ribcage. His lips were still burning from the king's kiss, and his body was aching from the lack of response. He wanted to kiss him back so badly, he wanted to move with the kiss, to finally put his mind at ease, but he wasn't able to control his body. Bilbo saw how much Thorin was struggling before he leaned down and touched his lips to the hobbit's, yet, all Bilbo could do was to stand there like a tree, his face completely blank.

He realised he was shaking as he remembered those short moments, so he just took a deep breath, hoping it would conjure away all the uneasiness.

"What is he like?" Rose asked, probably seeing that Bilbo won't offer a remark. "If he is like Fili or Kili, then it's a shame he wouldn't let me closer to him."

Bilbo almost started laughing at that, but he just stared at the ground under his feet.

"Oh no, he is nothing like Fili and Kili."

"Then what is he like?" Rose stepped closer to Bilbo, hooking her arm around Bilbo's and staring at him with a small smile. Bilbo knew it was her curiosity speaking; her curiosity that led her on most of her adventures around the Shire, her curiosity that the other hobbits couldn't understand. It was nice to have someone around him from his own kin who was so similar to him. It was a relief, actually.

But, then again, what could he possibly say about Thorin? What was he like? Even Bilbo didn't know that fully. He spent long days by the side of the dwarf king, and he was bound to him by a magic spell with the instrumentality of several Valar. But Rose already knew these things, so what else could've Bilbo told her?

He could've told her how much safety he felt when Thorin was close to him. He could've told her how he always wanted to be near the king, and not only because of the bound. He could've told her how right it felt to have the dwarf's lips on his own, to be held by those strong arms, and how it numbed him to see the pain in Thorin's eyes when he pulled back. Thorin thought Bilbo didn't want the kiss, and he stormed away before Bilbo had the chance to say anything. All he left behind was the piece of cloth that Bilbo recognised immediately and held close to him ever since.

Bilbo could've told her how much he loved Thorin.

Yet, none of these things was what he finally chose to say.

"Do you remember that vicious storm that stroke the Shire one night?" Bilbo asked with a knowing smile, earning a surprised look from Rose. "It was so rare to rain in the Shire, let alone to have storms with thunder and lightning, but you were in Bag-End on that night. We were standing at the window, watching how it tore at the trees, how everything looked like during daytime when there was a lightning."

"We were so frightened," Rose laughed, obviously remembering that night the exact same way as Bilbo. "And your father told us the sky would be the same blue the next morning, but we didn't believe him."

At the mention of his father, Bilbo's smile changed the smallest bit. He could hear the voice of Bungo Baggins in his ear, he could see the calm, level-headed hobbit sitting in his arm-chair, barely looking up from his book behind his glasses. He was a really smart man, and Bilbo missed him. He died too soon, before Bilbo could've learnt to truly appreciate him.

"He was right in the end," the hobbit sighed, staring aimlessly at the road in front of him. Rose was silent next to him, her hold on his hand slightly tightening, and Bilbo looked up at her with the same smile. "Thorin is like that storm. He tears at you, he raves, he even thunders, and then... The next morning, he is calm, the blue of his eyes clear again, just like the sky."

There was a wave of recognition on Rose's face, like she finally understood something. Bilbo knew exactly what it was, and he couldn't help himself from blushing. He was wondering whether it was so obvious to everyone but Thorin, or Rose realised only because she knew him better than anyone on Arda? He didn't know. He truly didn't.

"It explains a lot of things," Rose noted, a different smile returning to her face as she studied Bilbo carefully. "My mother had a saying that her mother used to tell her when she was reluctant to marry my father."

Bilbo's eyes widened. "Your mother didn't want to marry your father?"

Rose laughed shortly but heartily, and Bilbo couldn't help to feel a slight wave of jealousy in his chest. He could never think about his own parents so easily, or, at least, without having a lump in his throat, and he hadn't even lost them the way Rose had. She was the strongest person Bilbo had ever known, and he truly admired her.

"My mother needed a bit more courting than other hobbits, or, that is what I was told," Rose winked and Bilbo let out a soft laugh. He remembered Rose's parents vividly, and he held them as dear as he had always held Rose. He wasn't surprised to hear that about her mother. "But do not sidetrack, Bilbo, for that was not a story I wished to tell you just yet.

"The saying my mother repeated time to time was, 'Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it'," Rose said, and Bilbo needed a few seconds to understand it completely. "It means that if you decided not to love someone, you have to fight your reluctance first, then, and only then, can you love the other fully. I don't think it needs further explanation."

Bilbo fell silent at that, finally seeing the sense in what Rose was trying to say. He slowly raised his eyes to look at Thorin, who was leading the company in the front and never once looked back. He looked like he did on any other day, except that Dwalin was by his side more often, talking to him about something that Thorin didn't find interesting enough to answer to. Bilbo felt a sting of pain itching inside him, somewhere he could not reach, and he swallowed hard.

Rose was soon pulled from his side by Fili, the prince speaking of Dale and how much Rose would've liked the whirl of men in the town of Girion. Bilbo let her go with a smile, obviously realising how excited Fili was to have Rose around him. Maybe a little bit too excited, considering how much he begged his uncle to bring Rose with them.

It is a wonder he let her come with us, Bilbo thought to himself, his eyes still lingering on the dwarf king. He sighed bitterly. But, then again, there is no bigger wonder that you are still sane, Bilbo Baggins.

"So, where is the door?"

The question all but seemed to echo through the huge wasteland around them, being thrown back by the high, misty stones of the Lonely Mountain. In the base of the mountain they had been standing, staring up at the once mighty dwelling place of the dwarves and, had it not been for Rose's sudden question, they would've stayed in silence for minutes, even.

Behind them, charred and blackened by the burning breath of Smaug, the land compassed the Lonely Mountain, the home of Erebor, the kingdom they came to reclaim. It was a miserable sight to look at and filled their hearts with sorrow, so they decided not to look at it, hoping they could find the secret door that was marked on the map clearly.

Needless to say, they saw nothing at all.

"As ya see, not here," Dwalin answered wryly, his tone annoyed. Bilbo knew it very well, for he had heard it being addressed to him way too many times.

"You don't need to be rude with her," Fili exclaimed protectively, and most of the company rolled their eyes. Neither of the Durin heirs were especially skilled in hiding their true emotions, and Bilbo only wished it would've been true for their uncle as well. He wouldn't have felt so confused then.

"We're on the doorstep of our home, but we can't find the damn door," Dwalin snapped, frowning at the older sister-son of Thorin, and Bilbo sighed resignedly. It was so typical that it almost drew out a laugh from him. Once the dwarves grew anxious enough, they could've killed each other and then regretted every word in the next second. "I think I can be rude with whomever I want."

"Brother," Balin murmured under his breath, but his warning got lost in the angry passages that grew louder and louder gradually.

"No, you can't be rude with her, she did nothing wrong!" said Fili.

"I think I have to stand by Fili in this," said Kili.

"You can't even name one situation where ya didn't stand by him, lad," said Gloin, joining the conversation.

"You obviously can't respect this place, you have never lived here after all, so you should shut up!" said Dwalin, but his words were closely followed by Thorin's angry cry.

"Enough!" he yelled, maybe slightly louder than what would've been wise. He didn't look at his friends, nor at his sister-sons, he just stared at the ground in front of him, breathing heavily. Bilbo swallowed hard and stayed silent, eyeing everyone carefully. No one dared speak, for they already knew how serious this situation was. "If we already fly at each other's throats, how can we expect to defeat the worm? This is a dragon, I hope you did not forget about that."

Silence lingered amongst the dwarves for a few more seconds, but it was once again broken by Rose and Dwalin flinched automatically.

"I am not an expert," she started, intensely eyeing Thorin until the dwarf king looked at her, "but I've read enough books to know that simply staring hard enough won't bring you closer to a hidden door. That's why it's hidden after all."

"Say something we don't know," Dwalin mumbled under his breath, but, before Fili could've snapped again, Thorin frowned at him pointedly.

"What are you trying to say?"

There was the same adventurous glimmer in Rose's eyes that Bilbo was so familiar with, and he already knew it was the wisest decision to take her with them. She had already been well-read when they first met, knowing most of the true and fictional stories that Bilbo hadn't even heard of by heart. It wasn't surprising she wanted to be an adventuress since the moment she remembered.

"Many stories speak of entrances and gates that only appeared in moonlight or when the sun was shining from a certain angle. Sometimes there were hidden handles that opened the doors, and sometimes it was in plain sight and that is why it was so hard to find."

The dwarves seemed to digest it for a short amount of time, confusion creasing their brows and the lines on their foreheads. Only Bilbo seemed to understand immediately, and he sighed deeply.

"She says that we shouldn't run our heads against the wall without thinking, but we should wait until the fog disappears and we can observe everything by the light of either the sun or the moon," he explained, and the company seemed to understand it better at once. The roll of Rose's eyes was priceless, but Bilbo tried not to laugh. "We should make camp somewhere in a somewhat sheltered part of the mountain, and we can think more clearly tomorrow."

Most of the dwarves agreed with this idea, setting out to look for a place to camp, and Bilbo felt satisfaction spreading through him. He was exhausted from the long journey through the desolation which used to be a prosperous green land once, and he guessed it was around dinner time anyway. Staring at the mountain wouldn't do any good now.

He praised every power that seemed to serve their journey for letting them meet Rose. She was a certain point for the hobbit, especially now that Thorin wasn't talking to him at all. The dwarf king was already with the others, trying to help Bombur prepare some food that didn't need fire. (They didn't risk making one, and Bilbo missed the warmth it would've brought to their tired limbs during the evening.) Thorin completely ignored him, offering food for everyone but the halfling, and it placed a painful knot in the hobbit's heart.

That is how he loves? he wondered to himself, picking on some bread they brought from the cave of Rose. The girl pushed it into his hands, winking at him before joining Fili and Kili in their conversation. He loves and then he loathes? It doesn't seem to make him happy, then why is he doing it?

He entertained such thoughts in his mind as the minutes passed and lazily grew into hours. Most members of the company were already fast asleep, lost on their bedrolls and swallowed by the darkness - Bilbo, however, couldn't seem to get any sleep on that night, for he was too nervous about what the next day might bring and about the dwarf king sleeping soundly not too far from him. Dwalin was on watch for the first half of the night, and Bilbo was glad the dwarf didn't ask any questions on why the hobbit was still awake. They sat in comfortable silence, listening to the howling winds of the mountain, and shared an unspoken bond in the darkness.

Some kind of strange understanding.

"D'ya fancy a talk?"

The dwarf's rough voice broke the silence so suddenly that Bilbo almost jumped out of his skin, but he tried to keep calm and not wake the others. He was too started to speak, though, so he just gave the other an uncertain nod and tried to collect himself. He had not the faintest idea on what Dwalin could've told him, but he was curious enough to let him.

"I meant no harm for your friend," Dwalin muttered, his tone suddenly more silent and soft than previously. Bilbo's brows rose, and he blinked at the dwarf with surprise. He could make out the shapes and silhouettes of Thorin's most trusted friend, but he couldn't quite catch his expression in the shadows. "She is a fine lass. Fili fancies her, but I guess you could work out as much too."

Bilbo snorted slightly, turning his head where he assumed Fili was lying. He was close to another heap, who must've been Kili, and the hobbit smiled. Oh yes, it was hard not to notice how fond of Rose the young prince was. It was written all over his face most of the time.

"She seems to like him as well," Bilbo sighed, staring into darkness, aimlessly. At least, he tried to convince himself that he wasn't looking at Thorin. "They could complete each other easily, Rose is a nice girl. She is my best friend, actually."

"Is she?" Dwalin asked after a short moment of pause. Bilbo was surprised to hear amusement hiding in his voice, the sort of emotion that wasn't quite Dwalin.

The hobbit turned his head to look at him and he was absolutely stunned to see the dwarf's wide grin in the darkness. It was knowing and incredulous, relieved and cunning all the same time, and Bilbo felt his stomach drop. It was odd. Way too odd.

"What is so amusing?" Bilbo furrowed his brows, shifting on his bedroll uncomfortably. He had the gut feeling that Dwalin knew something that the hobbit didn't, and it never was comforting. Especially not with this particular dwarf.

"You care for the girl, aye?" Dwalin asked, and Bilbo could feel the warrior staring at him. The hobbit pulled back his head slightly, as if he was trying to avoid being the target of that pointed look, but he opened his mouth tentatively.

"Uhm, I think so, yes. Of course," he stammered, his heartbeat slightly quickening.

"You would protect her, aye?" the warrior continued, his voice filled with the sound of that grin all the same. Bilbo swallowed hard, not at all understanding the point of this conversation.

"Yes, I would!"

"Even if you knew she was making a mistake, you would try to make it up for her, aye?"

"Are we still talking about Rose, or is it some kind of a joke?" Bilbo snapped, immediately lowering his voice once he realised he was dangerously close to shouting and waking up the dwarves. Some of them shifted in their sleep, moving to their other side, and Bilbo bowed his head, trying to calm his hammering heartbeat.

Dwalin stayed silent for a good while, and Bilbo sank deep in his thoughts - probably that is why he was so started again to hear the dwarf's voice, only this time, it came from a closer place.

From right beside him.

"Ye see that dwarf there, burglar?" Dwalin sat down next to him unceremoniously, pointing his thick finger at a heap not too far from them. Bilbo stopped breathing once he recognised Thorin and, all of a sudden, he started to understand this game. A game he did not want to take part in, not one bit. "He is my king, and I swore loyalty to him. My oath didn't include taking care of his self-affairs, though, so I must say it is not my duty as a soldier but as his friend. You would do anything for your friend, and I would do the same for mine."

Bilbo turned his head to look at Dwalin with surprise, not quite believing what he had heard was not only a hallucination. He had never heard Dwalin speaking like this before, or, speaking this much at once at all, and every word that left the dwarf's mouth was directed right at the hobbit's heart.

"I know he kissed ya, halfling," Dwalin looked back at him, and, suddenly, Bilbo found the possibility of fainting pretty attractive. He could feel his whole body burning from embarassment, especially his face, and he had to look away if he had not wanted to choke on his own saliva in front of Dwalin. "I encouraged him, so if it caused a hard time for ya, I should apologise."

The hobbit awkwardly moved his arms to hug himself and decided to never look Dwalin in the eye again. It was too much to bear for a small creature like him, especially on such a late hour. He thanked his good fortune that no one else was there to hear this conversation between them.

Leastwise, he truly hoped that no one was awake but the two of them.

"Won't ya say something?" Dwalin asked, and Bilbo felt naked under his gaze. The dwarf was so soft all of a sudden, like he wanted to comfort the hobbit, but Bilbo almost laughed out loud at the thought. There was nothing on Arda that could've comforted him at the moment, he knew that for sure.

"What do you want me to say?" Bilbo muttered, never removing his eyes from the corner of Bofur's bedroll.

"That ye are willing to listen."

Bilbo let out a snort at that, sniffling sightly. He didn't like this cold weather, which wouldn't have been as cold if only they had been on the other side of the mountain. It was the windy side, and the breeze sneaked under the hobbit's vest, underneath his shirt and tickled his skin, not at all in a pleasant way.

"I am listening," he collected enough willpower to raise his head, not quite looking at Dwalin but catching his beard with his eyes. He could see the smirk behind the abundance of hair, and a shiver ran over the hobbit's spine quickly.

"Thorin is as stubborn as any other dwarf," Dwalin started, and Bilbo desperately tried not to recall the memory of that kiss they shared. Well, they didn't quite share it, for Bilbo couldn't respond at all, but it was a kiss nevertheless. And he could still feel it on his lips, doesn't matter whether he reciprocated it or not. "He does only what he believes to be right. He is pretty bad with words as well, so I guess that's why he kissed ya so swiftly."

Bilbo shuddered but said nothing. He was curious what else the dwarf had to say.

"He didn't want to scare ya, and he most certainly doesn't hate ya," the warrior continued, his voice silky on a way Bilbo had never heard him talking before. "It's only his damn pride why he keeps ignoring ya, but he won't always be like this."

Well, I'm looking forward to see that, Bilbo thought to himself with nearly not enough hope and he sighed deeply. His eyes wandered around the dwarves until it rested on the motionless form of Thorin, taking him in the best he could. He would've given anything to have the dwarf as close to him as he had Dwalin, to only be acknowledged by the king. He didn't need words, he didn't need a single touch, only the presence of the dwarf.

Then again, he guessed it must've been too much to ask for.

On the next morning, Bilbo woke to a hand softly shaking his shoulder.

He hadn't even known where he was when he first opened his eyes. Everything was way too bright and chilly, and he realised his whole body was numb under the covers. Numb and frozen, more precisely. And he did not like it at all.

When he slowly put two and two together and remembered they were already at the Lonely Mountain, the next step of him regaining his full consciousness was to identify Kili hovering over him. The end of his brown locks were touching Bilbo's face and his neck, and he made a face so the prince would lean back a little.

"What time is it?" Bilbo asked, his voice hoarse. He didn't sleep well, and he didn't sleep a lot either. The memories from last night were vivid in his mind, burning themselves into his skull like a wicked disease, and Bilbo could feel the headache behind his eyes. He needed water, quickly.

"It's still early, only Bombur, Fili and Rose are up," Kili answered softly, sitting down next to Bilbo with a huff of breath.

The hobbit thought the young dwarf was reading his mind when he suddenly pushed a flask into his hand with a reassuring smile, and Bilbo took it without hesitation. The cool water on his tounge and flowing down his throat felt like drinking from the streams of the Shire directly, and he played with the thought of his home for a moment. It was the only thing to give him proper comfort sometimes, in the times of dire need and homesickness.

"Thank you," Bilbo breathed as he gave back the flask, and Kili nodded. "Is there any plan for today?"

"Hasn't uncle told you?" Kili raised his brows in surprise. The question made Bilbo's stomach sink immediately, wishing he would've never been woken on this wretched day. It didn't hurt when he slept, at least.

"No, he... He must've forgotten," Bilbo muttered dryly, trying not to sound too bitter. Kili didn't seem to notice, luckily. "Then I assume there is a plan."

"Balin said there was a staircase leading to the upper side of the mountain, a piton where archers used to practice a long time ago," Kili explained, enthusiasm evident in his voice. Bilbo smiled to himself, finding the cheerful nature of the prince charming. "He said we could have a look at that place today."

"I see," the hobbit sighed, staring down at his hands resting in his lap for a second. Then, his eyes caught the glimmering of something from his right, and, as he turned his head to look at the young dwarf, he noticed a small silver pin in his hand.

The pin Legolas gave to him, Bilbo noted soundlessly, eyeing the trinket for a moment before looking up at Kili. The longing half-smile on his face was filling Bilbo with warmth he assumed only fathers could feel, and he heard himself chuckling softly.

"Do the others know?" Bilbo asked silently, earning a gentle look from the dwarf prince. He was looking at the hobbit from behind his long eyelashes, his face slightly coloured in pink. He shook his head.

"No. Only Fili and you," he looked back at the pin, running his thumb over the two entwined arrows shining in the dim light. The fog was still thick around the mountain, but the sun was shining somewhere behind the clouds and it painted everything in light blue and grey. "Does this make me a bad person, Master Baggins?"

His voice was so small that Bilbo's heart started to ache for him. His throat felt too tight to speak, so he only placed a hand on Kili's shoulder while he was collecting himself.

"To love someone never makes you a bad person, Kili," Bilbo answered gently, looking right in the wide, hazel eyes of the youngster. "The lack of love, that can turn you into one."

Oh for the name of mercy, I sounded just like Gandalf, Bilbo noted to himself, frowning on the inside from the recognition. He soon shook it off, though, returning to the side of Kili in soul as well as in body.

"But he is an elf," Kili whispered, hiding the pin in his palm, and he looked up at Bilbo with a helpless expression. "Uncle would never-"

"Your uncle owes his and your lives to that elf," Bilbo interrupted, pulling back his arm when he found Kili was steady enough. "Without Legolas, he and his whole company would still sit in the dungeons, waiting for their doom. Thorin will surely understand your feelings towards the elf prince, and, after seeing how deeply you feel for him, he will give his blessings."

The hope rekindled in Kili's eyes, and a smile as wide as the mountain itself spread on his lips, making Bilbo smile as well. There were no words needed, no more reassurances, for everything the hobbit said gave enough comfort for the young dwarf to hold on for a little bit longer. This particular trait of his was coming from the Baggins line as well - knowing when to say kind words, and, more importantly, how. If Bilbo was good at something, it was talking, and he was proud of that.

The dwarves slowly started to wake afterwards, their rumbling stomachs disturbing their dreams. Bilbo assumed they had been dreaming of more food and gold, their kingdom being reclaimed and restored, their halls gleaming in their long forgotten splendour again. On the other side, all Bilbo could dream of was a giant dragon facing him, with Thorin pushing him to its open mouth and whispering 'go burglar, and make yourself useful'. There was a contrast between these dreams that was quite hard to swallow, so Bilbo didn't even try. He ate his squash silently, eyeballing the heavy layer of fog, praying for a ray of sunlight.

It was useless, of course, for even when they climbed the steep staircase with Thorin, Balin, Dwalin, Kili, Fili and Bofur, the fog seemed not to be keen on going anywhere. If anything, it only got thicker by noon, and Bilbo couldn't even see his own hands at one point when he stretched them out too far.

"There is no handle, no stone that seems to open anythin', and no doors anywhere," Dwalin said bitterly after touching the stone wall for minutes, looking for something useful. Bilbo focused on not falling down the slippery rocks, and, even with Bofur by his side, he felt quite unsure. Thorin didn't help his situation, of course, and kept ignoring him as he had done for two days now. And it grew harder and harder to bear.

The way to the top of the staircase meant no problem, besides that it forced their lungs to work harder than ever. (Bofur noted that Bombur would've been in trouble if he had to climb those stairs, and Bilbo almost laughed at that. Bofur had always known how to make the halfling smile, and Bilbo was grateful for that.) The way back, though... Now, that was something Bilbo wished he would've never had to experience.

Thorin led the line of the dwarves on the front, and, somehow, Bilbo ended up behind him. It was a narrow staircase where only one person could walk relatively 'comfortably', if constantly fearing death with every step could've been called comfortable. Bilbo tried to avoid looking at the dwarf king: he didn't need to see the long locks or the broad shoulders with that huge back. He was miserable as he was already, he didn't need anything else to yearn for. However, avoiding to look at someone who went so closely in front of him and watching his steps didn't seem to work well together, and he slipped before he could've yelled 'help'.

He could feel the brush of Bofur's hand on his back, trying to grab his collar and keep him back but he missed the catch and Bilbo fell ahead like a sack. He was sure his heart stopped functioning for a moment, and he was waiting for the blackness to take him and to never wake up again when he suddenly found himself in two strong arms. He was surrounded by this strange embrace, and his lungs were filled with the familiar scent of Thorin. Bilbo looked up, wonder obvious on his face, and it soon had been replaced with some fear and absolute awe.

Thorin was holding him, and he was staring down at the hobbit so intensely that Bilbo wasn't even surprised anymore that his heart stopped beating.

"I remember telling you to watch your steps," Thorin growled, but the disdain on his face was the absolute opposite of the feelings that filled his eyes. Bilbo couldn't find the right words to answer, for he was so utterly mesmerized by that loving gaze that he lost the ability to speak his mind. He stared at the dwarf king for a very long time, trying to collect himself, but Thorin pushed him back to his feet before he could've said anything.

To part from him hurt more than any harsh words.

The next couple of days went on like this. They kept looking for the door, though, their spirits were lower and lower with every failure. They ventured around the mountain, looking for hidden places that only dwarves would know, therefore, they could've put a door there. Needless to say, in the stubborn fog that seemed to stay forever they found nothing. They were running out of food, strength and persistence, and Bilbo was desperately wishing Gandalf would've been with them.

He could make this wretched fog go, the hobbit heard the dwarves murmur under their breaths on the sleepless nights. They never made fire, for it was still a dangerous place, so warmth had been avoiding them for a longer time that they could remember.

Bilbo stopped complaining after the fourth day. He fell terribly silent, and it went to such lengths that only Rose could talk to him. Not like anyone was looking for his company besides the young Durin heirs or the hobbit girl, so no one seemed to notice it. But those who did were extremely worried and kept asking him what was wrong. He only answered the truth: he couldn't sleep for he was way too frozen, and he missed warm food.

The only thing he didn't include in his explanation was the absolute misery that Thorin caused him, but he didn't wish to share that with anyone. It was enough to catch the pitying look of Dwalin sometimes.

His exasperation aggravated to a level where he simply refused to go with the dwarves to look for the hidden door. It was on the sixth day, and he chose to stay with Bombur and Bifur instead of joining the sad, complaining group. He preferred the company of the cousins over the others', so he nestled in the base of a huge rock and wrapped his arms around himself protectively.

The noises of the dwarves soon became distant enough for Bilbo to assume they were already a good distance away, and he slowly closed his eyes. Whenever he tried to sleep the damn freezing of his bones and the chilly winds on his skin kept him awake, whispering in his ear about pulling the magic ring on his finger so he wouldn't feel so bad anymore. He didn't understand the connection, so he ignored the voice completely, trying to curl up in a smaller hump against the stone wall.

He must've been lying there for not longer than fifteen minutes when a strange feeling started to overwhelm him. He was used to the burning already, for being far from Thorin wasn't unusual lately and it was only a little bit worse than the hunger or the exhaustion. No, it wasn't the burning feeling that gave him goosebumps all over his body.

It was the pleasant warmth on his face.

For a moment he was sure that it wasn't more than a hallucination. He thought of the Shire where the warmth of the sun was something the hobbits couldn't live without, where the power of that warmth made their food grow and lightened the hair of every young hobbit lass around Hobbiton. Bilbo smiled to himself with bitter nostalgia, almost smelling the grass and flowers of the woods in his nose, but his small fantasy was broken by the joyous voice of Bombur.

"Look at that, Mister Hobbit," he said, and Bilbo opened his eyes to look at him. Instead, he saw something absolutely different, and he gaped slightly. "The weather had mercy on us at last!"

The fog disappeared, and the wastelands, the blackened desolation of Smaug was surrounding them once again. It would've made Bilbo sick on any other day, but not today. For the moment he looked into the sun, he jumped up and stared at the dwarves with rejoicing.

"Do you know what it means?" Bilbo asked, his eyes shining with the returning hope. Maybe they weren't lost at all. "We can find the door now! But we need the key immediately! Bifur, run after the others, would you?"

Bifur never protested, he just ran where the others went earlier, leaving Bilbo and Bombur behind. The hobbit was staring at the mountain now, looking for something the sun could emphasize, but his eyes didn't seem to catch anything unusual.

"Do you see anything, Bombur?" Bilbo asked, narrowing his eyes so he could see better.

"Nothing, Mister Baggins. Maybe you could see better from that staircase that Balin mentioned a week ago, remember? The archer's practice spot," Bombur noted with a shrug and Bilbo nodded with absolute enthusiasm.

"That is a very good idea, Bombur," he said, earning a wide but humble smile from the dwarf, and Bilbo headed to the staircase immediately.

It wasn't too far from the camp they made, and making his way there wasn't difficult at all. He remembered climbing it, though, and his whole body started protesting at once. The hobbit didn't back away, nevertheless, and he started climbing the narrow way up to the top. The stairs had still been slippery and uncertain, but Bilbo felt too zealous to stop now or to give up.

After a few minutes of climbing he reached the top, and, though he was panting heavily, he had the same smile on his face. He felt a bit dizzy to his head from the sudden physical exercise, but his eyes were already looking for a sign of the sunlight frantically. He saw nothing, but before he could've lost all his spirit, a thought popped in his mind.

What if it's visible for a short amount of time only? he thought to himself, eyeing the sun doubtfully. It was setting slowly, planting ideas in the mind of the hobbit. Maybe when it's about to set completely... When it barely shines on the horizon... Maybe it shows us the way then.

His train of thoughts were cut off by a loud yell and he turned around startedly, almost losing his balance on the edge of the stones. His heart started beating even more faster when he realised that the dwarf who had been yelling for him was Thorin.

"What were you thinking to go up there on your own?" the dwarf asked, his voice thick with anger. Bilbo knew he was too close to the solution to start yelling now, so he just waved the king off, turning back to face the sun. Everything was growing blurry around them, but he eyed the huge burning circle on the sky until it's lower part started disappearing behind the distant trees of Mirkwood.

Thorin kept yelling for a while but he soon fell silent after that. Bilbo didn't care, for he knew he didn't have much time to catch the last glimpse of the sun. It was smaller and smaller on the sky, shining in a darker colour with every moment, and finally, when the last ray of light shone through the top of the trees, Bilbo saw it.

There was a hole in the wall, a hole where the key should've fit perfectly. He smiled to himself slowly, satisfaction, relief and pride washing over him in waves, and he turned to signal the dwarves.

He didn't expect he would slip on the wet rocks and start falling into the now shady depths.