A/N: This chapter practically begged to be written since I saw AUJ EE for the first time. When I saw the scene where Thorin and Bilbo overhear Gandalf and Elrond's conversation, this idea popped into my head and refused to leave me alone until I had written it down. And, in a way, I'm glad it did.

The playlist song of the week: That's What the Wise Lady Said by Angtoria

If you bother to check the song from YouTube, I'd recommend choosing a video titled: Thorin – Be Proud of Who You Are by Mikisna. I guess the name of the video says all that needs to be said, but I might also add that it was in this video that I heard the song for the first time.

Sara's POV

It was already dark when I finally left Arwen's company to seek that one of the dwarves, assuming that by this time they must have already finished their bathing and clad themselves at least somehow. None of us would be too happy if I surprised them butt-naked.

As I neared the Eastern Hall I got a confirmation that that was where the dwarves were. That voice could not be mistaken for anything else. Before the last turn I turned around so that I walked into the Hall backwards.

"Are you lot decently enough clothed that I can turn around?" I asked playfully as I entered.

"Aye, I think we are." Bofur replied laughing. I turned around with a grin on my face and lowered myself on the ground next to the toymaker.

They had made a campfire in the middle of the Hall of what I suspected that had been some elven furniture, and Bofur was grilling a sausage over the flames.

"Yeh wanna enlighten us 'bout where yeh've been?" Bofur asked. "We've seen not as much as hide or heel of yeh fer the whole day."

"Oh, I've been here and there." I replied. "At first I wandered around this place with Bilbo, and when we parted our ways I spent the rest of the day with Arwen, Elrond's daughter."

"Chattering with tree-shag–"

"Dwalin", I interrupted the warrior in a don't-you-dare-finish-that-one tone. Since our arrival, I had heard more than enough of names Dwarves called Elves with. "You can't deny that these elves have been nothing but polite towards you lot. Despite your… activities… today. And I'm not meaning the breakfast."

Dwalin's only reply was a shrug of his shoulders. A wise move, I'd say.

Bofur smelled the sausage he'd been grilling and took it off of the stick. Then he looked at his brother. Bombur was sitting on a table on the other side of the fire, and I noted that the table was groaning quite threateningly. From the look on the toymaker's face I could tell that he had acknowledged that fact, too.

"Bombur", he called for his brother and threw the sausage for Bombur to catch. As the fat dwarf did so, the table fell apart with a loud crash, which was immediately followed by others' laughter, mine included. Bofur laughed so hard that he fell on his side.

While laughing, I noticed that Bilbo slipped through the Hall without as much as greeting the company. I quickly excused myself and followed the hobbit.

"I still don't get it how you enjoy yourself in that company so well." Bilbo said, shaking his head as he glanced back where dwarves were having fun.

"They are not so bad." I said, still chuckling, and wiped tears of mirth from the corner of my eye. "Yes, they're noisy and usually not so hygienic, at least when on the road, but overall they are really nice, when you manage to befriend them. Are you even trying to do so?"

"I –"

"Of course I was going to tell you, I was waiting for this very chance. And really, I think you can trust that I know what I am doing." I heard Gandalf's voice saying and both Bilbo and I stopped on our tracks, falling silent. What was he talking about?

"Do you?" That voice belonged to Lord Elrond. "That dragon has slept for sixty years. What will happen if your plan should fail, if you wake that beast?"

Ah, of course. They're talking about our quest.

"What if we succeed? If the dwarves take back the Mountain, our defences in the east will be strengthened."

"It is a dangerous move, Gandalf."

"It is also dangerous to do nothing. Oh, come, the throne of Erebor is Thorin's birthright. What is your fear?"

I noticed Bilbo turned to look behind his back and, turning to look at the same direction, I saw Thorin standing behind us. Despite our uneasy parting that morning I gave him a small smile before turning to look at the elf-lord and Wizard again, just as Elrond spoke.

"Have you forgotten? A strain of madness runs deep in that family. His grandfather lost his mind. His father succumbed to the same sickness. Can you swear Thorin Oakenshield will not also fall?"

During Elrond's last sentence I turned to look at Thorin again, and when our eyes met he turned to look away with a sorrowful and self-doubting look on his face.

"Gandalf, these decisions do not rest with us alone." Elrond continued. "It is not up to you or me to redraw the map of Middle Earth.

"With or without our help, these dwarves will march on the…" Gandalf said, his voice fading as the two of them walked too far for me to hear them. Bilbo made a quick disappearance at that point, but I stayed, for Thorin hadn't moved yet either. He was standing still, his back facing me. The wisest move, knowing Thorin's temper, would've probably been to do what Bilbo had done, but I found myself taking those few steps needed to be standing right behind the Dwarf King and laid my hand tenderly on his shoulder.

"Thorin? Do you want to talk?" I asked softly.

The only reaction I got was that he tensed when I touched him. I wasn't going to give up, though. He wasn't the most stubborn man I had faced in my lifetime, even if he was quite close to the top of that list.

"Thorin, you've told me twice since arriving here that I could come to talk to you if I needed a listener." I whispered softly. "I am willing to listen if you need one."

At first I thought that he was going to ignore me again, but after a minute or so he let out a long, shaky breath.

"As much as I hate to admit it, the elf is right." Thorin whispered, his voice so faint that I barely heard him. "I have tried to pretend otherwise, but the thought has been haunting me."

"What kind of madness are we talking about? Not every form of madness is inheritable."

It seemed that my question made him immure himself again, to lift up walls he had almost let to fall down. I could see it from the way he moved his shoulders.

"I take it you haven't talked about this to anyone?" I asked, sighing.

He shook his head as reply.

"Not even Balin?" From what I had understood, the old dwarf had been Thorin's trusted counsellor as long as it had been Thorin's responsibility to lead dwarves who followed the exiled King of Erebor.

He shook his head again, still not turning to look at me.

"Thorin, you can't deal with all your problems on your own." I whispered, itching to turn him around, with or without the help of One Power, so that I didn't have to look at his back all the time. "Even kings need someone by their side, someone to whom they can talk about everything. Keeping everything just to oneself is unhealthy. Now, could you turn around so that I don't have to talk to your back all the time?"

He turned around, but still avoided eye contact.

"Can you now tell me what this is all about?" I asked softly.

Thorin hesitated a few seconds before bending his head in a nod.

"I don't know if you know already, but Dwarves are quite fond of gold and gems."

I ransacked my brain for a few seconds, trying to remember if I had been told that.

"I think Gandalf might have told me something like that when he told me about this world a month ago."

Thorin nodded.

"It is something that comes to us naturally, appreciating precious metals and gems and knowing their values. But that's not the problem in itself; we – most of us – know that all that is gold does not glitter. But in some, that love of gold has grown too fierce."

Thorin sighed and looked at the darkening sky above us before continuing.

"Erebor lies close to Mirkwood, the realm of Woodland Elves. For as long as there has been Dwarves living inside Erebor, there has also been a timid, some would even say fragile, alliance between Dwarves of Erebor and Elves of Mirkwood. But alliance all the same. When Thrór lost his mind, that alliance was lost. The rift between Dwarves and Elves goes deeper into the past than that, but we had all been willing to keep our disagreements to ourselves, until that point."

Thorin fell silent once again, but I couldn't blame him. It must be hard to watch how first your grandfather lost his mind for gold and then your own father followed that path. Not to mention reliving it now.

"Truth to be told, it was because of my grandfather's madness that Smaug came, for dragons are attracted by vast amounts of gold and Thrór, in his state of mind, yearned for more and more all the time. By that time Father had already been King in all but name, but, even if it had mattered, it was too late.

My father, he began to show the same sings couple of months before they began talking about reclaiming Moria. Only, I hadn't seen that back then. We had been wandering homelessly for years, and I had begun to hope that we'd find a home somewhere. I thought that he thought the same way."

This time silence was longest one so far, and it even felt heavier than others I had begun to suspect Thorin wouldn't continue at all when he spoke up again.

"You heard Balin tell about the Battle of Azanulbizar, you know what happened. We won, but the price we paid was high, too high. After the battle I managed to convince Father that it would be wise to head for Ered Luin, for there was a kingdom that was abandoned some time during the Second Age, and build a new home there. A few years after we had managed to build ourselves a new home, Father began to talk about trying to reclaim Erebor." By the time he finished the last sentence, Thorin's voice was barely audible once again, and I thought I could understand why.

"He left with small group of dwarves, Balin and Dwalin among that group, some months before my ninety-fifth birthday. He never told me about his decision to leave, but I could guess it when he suddenly was nowhere to be found. And when his travelling companions returned some months later, without him, I got confirmation for my suspicions, along with news of his disappearance.

So, in relatively short time that madness had left our people homeless, with far too young leader, and far too many of our number dead, my own brother among them. It turned far too many of our women widows, among them my own mother, as we could only assume that Father's disappearance meant that he was dead. She died a year after the news came."

By the time Thorin finished I felt tears welling up in my eyes. I had heard before that Thorin has gone through some tough times, but until now I hadn't realised how tough exactly had his life been. No-one should be forced to go through such hardships.

Can you swear Thorin Oakenshield will not also fall?

That was where all of this culminated in; after getting to know the background story, one single question could explain, if not everything, then most of it.

"I'm afraid, Sara."

Hearing Thorin say that was close to a shock, knowing how much of his pride he must have swallowed in order to say it. Partially because of that I didn't consider my words long enough before opening my mouth.

"You are?" I blurted out.

"Of course I am. I'd be fool not to."

I nodded and this time laid both my hands on his shoulders.

"You have nothing to fear." I whispered.

"You heard that elf, both my father and his father before him have succumbed to that same madness –"

"Thorin –"

"– what are the chances that I would not fall, too, when –"

"– shut up."

For the second time during that day that simple, direct command worked efficiently. I laid my left hand on his cheek – Thorin flinched at the contact but didn't shy away from me – and turned his face, forcing his eyes to meet mine. It was strange, how overhearing Elrond's words seemed to have brought up completely new Thorin, for during this one month I had known him, I had seen only the ever so confident side of him. Those raw emotions of vulnerability and self-suspicion I could see in his eyes now, they felt almost unnatural.

"You have nothing to fear." I repeated myself. "You have many people standing by your side. Dwalin, Balin, Fíli and Kíli… basically everyone who's on this quest… including me."

"You?" There was a strange undercurrent in Thorin's surprised tone, but I couldn't quite pin-point what it was.

"That's what friends are for, isn't it? And I hope I'm allowed to count myself as your friend."

The smallest of smiles appeared on Thorin's lips.

"You are."

"Good, because I already think of you as my friend. Things could've turned quite awkward if only I was thinking that way."

Thorin's smile widened slightly.

"Indeed they could have."

"But anyway, my point is that you have a lot of people around you that support you, and remembering is always a good start. Remember what your grandfather did, and remember what your father did, and don't repeat their mistakes. With that only you'll already go far."

"But what if it happens anyway?" Thorin asked, all traces of that small smile gone once again. "What would happen to Fíli or Kíli, or Dwalin, or Balin… or to you, for that matter, if I lost my mind after all?"

"You won't." I said, putting all my confidence in those two words. "You'll be just fine, as long as you have faith in yourself."

I locked my eyes with Thorin once more, and I could see that some of that self-doubt had vanished from his eyes already.

"Don't worry over the future too much, Thorin, for it is not in tomorrow that we live, but in today."