Sophia: without ruining anything all I can say is read this chapter, and then stayed tuned because it's coming. And all answers will be revealed.

Namarea: thank you so very much for your kind words, your review really just made my whole day when I read it. I'm so glad you think I kept Thorin in character, he's difficult to gage how he'd fall in love - because he would fall in love differently depending on who he's falling in love with. And thank you so much for saying you could visualize yourself as Nora, I tried really hard to make her relatable; allow me to repeat myself, you really made my day.

Nora stared at Thorin wide eyed in shock, watching his warm smile slip away into worry. "Nora," he said softly, afraid of what she would say – afraid she regretted what they had done. Though he knew it was wrong, immoral, he could never regret the joy he'd found in her.

She was left unable to speak, barely able to breathe, as she stared at the face she had not planned to care for; in that hall after she'd died she hadn't loved him, she had admired him more than any man or woman she'd ever known – but it had not been her intention to fall in love with him when she thoughtlessly stepped through the door. But this hadn't even been her intention when she broke through time, she hadn't wanted to go on the quest – she had not wanted the quest at all, she wanted to stop it. Stop everything that was supposed to happen, stop him from dying. "I know why I came," she said breathlessly, not knowing if she would be able to tell him he would die. What she wanted to do was shake him by the shoulders and tell him this would end in death if he didn't stop being a jackass. But that hadn't even happened yet, the people of the laketown would only just be now on their way – they would reach the Mountain on the morn, and when Bard justly requested a portion of the treasure to aid the desolated town Thorin would ruin everything. Already the treasure had a hold of his heart, the dragon sickness beginning to spread. And so she opened her mouth to tell him she'd come specifically for him but the words stuck in the back of her throat, her mouth could not even form the words she wished to give him and she stood staring at him hopeless. Of course she would not be allowed to tell him, why would it ever be so easy.

Thorin himself had several thoughts running through his mind, seeing her complete inability to speak as though someone would not allow it. For days now, weeks even, he had begun to realize how intimate finding her had been. "You came for me," he said, watching the surprise paint her eyes as she looked at him.

"How did you know?"

He smiled as he pulled her to sit beside him, his arms around her back as he held her to his chest. "You know me," he told her fondly, smoothing her wild hair back. "Of us all I am familiar to you. You should not know my home, no knowledge should you bear of the beard I had once worn."

She stared at his handsome face almost amazed that she were here, that it was possible she had come and stolen his brave heart. And yet she could not tell him why she had come, for what purpose he had needed saving; but she could see in his eyes that he knew. Somewhere deep in his mind he knew the sickness that was plaguing him, that he was realizing she had come for this very reason; but the darkness had taken him over and no sensible thought stuck in his mind as he stared at her face. In that moment, with words choking the back of her throat unable to spill from her tongue, she leaned against him and let him hold her – a part of her mind and heart knowing this would not happen for much longer.

They were found quite a time later, the day having only begun and now the sun was beginning to set when Dwalin had offered to search for his king – the dwarves still in the main hall gathering slabs of rock to fortify the front gate as they had been ordered. He stopped at the entrance to the throne room, finding them sitting against a column near the doorway; it was not the sight of them sitting together that stilled him, it was the sight of Nora laying over Thorin's chest asleep as his hands ran through her hair, his cheek resting on the top of her head as he simply enjoyed holding her. This was a sight Dwalin had never expected to see of his king for Thorin had never shown interest in a wife; not after the dragon had come and left him homeless and poor.

Thorin knew Dwalin was there, had heard his heavy footsteps as he searched for them, but the dwarf king kept silent wishing for more time to sit in such quiet peace with nothing but the sound of their breathing to be heard. His fingers had run through the tangles in her hair long before leaving him to stroke the smooth strands wishing he had something to tie it with after he braided it, leaving his mark on her for all to see. He would marry this woman, when the men from the laketown had come and gone and his cousin Dain arrived to ensure no one took his treasure, when it was all done and they were left to rebuild this mighty kingdom he would take her as wife; this brave loyal woman made of love and fire. "Is the front gate secured?" he asked, feeling Nora stir before settling closer against him.

Dwalin watched her nestle further against him, watched Thorin's arms wrap tighter around her; he suddenly felt as though he were intruding, as though he had walked in on them in a bed after the passion had been spent. "Almost," he answered. "In a few hours more it will be complete."

Thorin nodded knowing he would have to wake her, knowing he would have to move her soft warm body from his side. He did not wish to. The end of his days he could have stayed sitting against the column with nothing but her in his arms – no food or drink, no mighty kingdom, no gold, no one but her. These thoughts were familiar to him, as familiar as her, as familiar as laying with her for even his body remembered her. But he was King under the Mountain and he had a duty, so he woke her.

She sat up bleary her head aching only slight, but it was the thud of her heart that showed her panic. She allowed him to pull her to her feet, let him take her hand and lead her back into the main hall knowing the moment they passed the treasure a black greed would fill him stealing all sense he might have had. She watched his face darken when his eyes caught sight of the golden gleam from the great hoard, a deep rooted lust to lock himself in the room and waste away with nothing but the love for gold to satiate him.

"Thorin," she said timidly, her shaking hand reaching for his arm and turning his head toward her; she braced herself for the madness she would see in his eye, for she could remember watching him half crazed as he searched for the Arkenstone. He blinked and the darkness was gone, he smiled softly at her before pressing his lips gently against her bruised temple and continuing on. She was left to follow wondering if perhaps the reason she was there was to steal his mind from the treasure, for why else had the darkness disappeared the moment he looked at her. But in all honesty, she didn't know; what she was supposed to do for a dwarf king struggling against the sickness that had plagued his grandfather so horribly.

Though they slept peacefully that night, the dwarves thoroughly exhausted from constructing a wall of stone in front of the main gain – allowing no one in or out, unless they climbed over by rope; to which the dwarves had left large enough spaces in between the slabs of stone that they could shoot any who came near – it was very evident that peace was now lost when dawn broke. With the coming of Bard, who had thought the dwarves dead, and requested a small portion to aid in the laketown – a very just request for it was Bard himself who had felled the dragon – Thorin had refused. Nora sat beside a perplexed Bilbo listening to the words exchanged, hearing the familiarity in them for she had already seen this part before. But nothing had changed, Thorin refused deeming the men and elves to have come to take a part of the treasure the dwarf king saw as no one's but his own. There was nothing to be done, for though a light as small as it was had entered his eye when he turned to Nora – the darkness still reined in him.

There was no comfort in the warmth on his face when he looked at her, when he moved to lay beside her when the sun had set and they settled for sleep; she let him kiss her, she even kissed him back for they only had but a few days before the orcs would reach them – yet she could tell him none of this, she could barely even think it before her head hurt too much. She could not tell Bilbo she knew he had the Arkenstone, even if she could she was not sure if she would; the moment Thorin had the Arkenstone he would be lost forever – there would be no redemption. "When will your army arrive?" she asked when he laid beside her that night, watching him turn shocked at her knowledge of it for he had kept it from her.

He had not wished to trouble her with thoughts of battle, had not wanted her to know he would rather wage war than give up even a piece of his treasure – somewhere in his blackened heart he was still noble enough to not want her to think of him in such a way – and so he hadn't told her. Yet she had known regardless, and he was forced to realize she knew all that would happen, she knew how this would end; though he had already asked, and he'd watched the way her mouth opened to speak but her voice had not come and she'd clenched her jaw entirely frustrated because she so obviously wished to answer him. "The day after next," he answered knowing she could say no more than she already had, and so she nodded unhappily and settled in his arms as they made to rest.

Yet dawn brought relief, for talk of the Arkenstone had spread amongst them for Dain would surely wish to see it before he would fight for them – before he would declare Thorin the king of Durin's folk. And with talk of the white stone Thorin blackened further, no light shining in his eye but the light of greed – not even for Nora. He still looked to her often, still stood near her and ran a hand through her hair, sat behind her and braided it fastening it with a clip with his family's emblem carved in it. He'd spoken softly in her ear when he'd shown in to her, letting her trace the carvings as he told her what it meant – watched as she turned surprised to him, a soft look in her eye as she nearly blushed.

She'd hardly been able to believe him when he told her it was a symbol of betrothal, that she was his specifically; even more she was hardly able to believe that this was still the Thorin she'd fallen for. And she couldn't even deny that she was in love with him, not when her stomach knotted every time he looked at her, not when her heart leapt at his touch at even the thought of him. She was completely and hopelessly in love with him, and she could do nothing to stop him from dying. All she could do was lay beside him knowing the end would come with dawn: Bilbo would have already given Bard and the Elvenking the Arkenstone, Thorin would nearly kill the hobbit when he discovered it, Dain would come with his army, and then the orcs would arrive bringing with them waves of death and destruction – ending the life she had come to save.

But there was little she could do as she laid beside him waiting for this terrible dawn to break, tracing the lines of his sleeping face as she imagined the life they could have lived, the children she might have given him. She knew what she would do, the only thing she would be capable of doing – and she wondered sadly if it would break his heart.

"Nora?" he asked softly when he woke, feeling her fingertips light on his cheek and seeing the tears shining in her eyes. She said nothing, she didn't even try to speak when she knew nothing would come of it, and he held her close when she curled against him not knowing what had upset her – but his eye caught the gleam from his gold and he easily forgot her troubles.

She stood when the others woke, hearing the loud trumpets as Bard returned with bannermen to make yet another parley, knowing what would happen before it did. She had only hours for Bard would return at noon after dealing Thorin the blow of realizing the Arkenstone was now out of his reach – she barely listened as they spoke, only gave Bilbo a passing glance as Thorin made to throw him from the stone wall the dwarves had built knowing Gandalf would stop him before the hobbit was harmed. She knew it all, and she stood pacing unhappily feeling every second creep by as the sun rose higher and higher in the sky, as noon drew nearer, as the orcs marched closer.

Thorin had left the Company to stand in the room of his treasure and let the dark waves of greed and lust wash over him, thinking perhaps with Dain's arrival they might take the Arkenstone by force. He returned to the main hall an hour before noon, finding Nora pacing silently away from the others looking terribly bothered yet determined. "Will I die?" he asked her, knowing from her sad face when he woke his end was in sight – he did not know how, he did not know why, and she could tell him nothing; but he knew her enough that her sorrow was from him.

She turned to him with eyes ignited in her stubborn will. "No," she told him, the first time she'd been able to actually answer what he asked and it shocked him. It almost shocked her, but Thorin had died before she came and so she was not entirely telling the truth. But she had come, she had jumped thoughtlessly through the door and lost her memory of why she was there only to regain it at the very end when it seemed all hope was lost; but she had already died once, and though it might hurt him greatly, she was not afraid to do it again. Somehow it had always been leading this, the only way he could possibly survive was if someone could stop his death.

And with a loud blast from a horn she turned from Thorin knowing her time had come.

…

Thorin would never have seen it coming, not even when the truth had been so clear in Nora's eyes. All darkness had gone from him the moment he saw the orcs marching to the camp where the lakemen and elves were, knowing the orcs were led by Azog the defiler and knowing they had come solely for him. For the first time in days his mind was completely free and the sense had returned. "Arm yourselves," he told his kin, seeing the fire in their eyes as they made for battle, the sound of war already loud from beyond the gate. He had spoken soft words of love to Nora, who had still stood pacing her hands shaking but her eyes fierce – and he sighed contently when she kissed him, realizing she had known this was his end. And he turned to his kin, speaking of honor and bravery and listened to them cry out mightily before following him to the gate and pulling the levers that sent the stone crumbling to the ground. Out they marched into battle, spreading a renewed fervor in the men and elves and dwarves as they banded together to fight their foe.

But he had never expected this. He had known he might fall, there was always a chance and with such a number of orcs it was only too great of a possibility; and with the memory of Nora's hidden tears she blinked away when he woke he knew what would happen. She'd known he would die and she had come to save him, and by Durin's beard he loved her for that. And so when he cut through yet another orc and turned to find Azog swinging his mace as he made for the dwarf king, Thorin thought of her and wondered if this was what she had seen would happen. It mattered little, if Thorin was to die he would take the pale orc with him; and so he charged for Azog, cutting through the orcs in his path as Azog swung the men elves and dwarves in his, and the two finally met in loud clang of the orc's mace on Thorin's ax. Over and over Azog brought his mace down on Thorin, who could only raise his ax against it so many times before it shattered completely, leaving him to reach for whatever weapon he could find. He was given no moment to attack Azog for the orc was relentless, leaving Thorin to throw himself out of the way only for Azog to swing him mace once more forcing the dwarf to roll out of the way before it struck him.

He cried out at the pain in his side, and he turned with a sword raised and cut through the orc that had pierced him. Azog's mace stole the breath from him as he was flung against the side of the Mountain, bleeding and breathless barely able to climb back to his feet let alone reach for another weapon he stood waiting for his end to come.

With a cruel twist of his mouth Azog smiled before taking up a sword from a fallen elf and stepping to the dwarf king, seeing him struggling to keep his feet and knowing the dwarf would not escape him again.

Thorin was left weaponless and his kin too far to reach him, though already Dwalin bellowed and began lashing out at those around him so he may reach the pale orc raising a sword against his king. He leaned against the rock behind him with his arm limp and broken, a spear embedded in his side, and no hope of surviving this. This was his end, broken and defenseless. Azog raised the sword, aiming the tip of its blade for the dwarf's heart and Thorin released a breath almost of relief as his painful end came.

Though a flash of red stopped the sword from reaching Thorin's heart, and he stared in complete shock at the woman standing with a sword in her chest – Azog's own face surprised as he looked at the woman who had stolen his vengeance, and then rage settled on his stark white features.

Thorin caught her in his arms when Azog released the sword, seeing the blood pooling from her mouth as she tried to breathe – as her chest heaved. "Please," he begged her. She couldn't die, not now that he loved her – but no amount of begging or tears could save her. Within moments she stilled completely, her dark eyes staring lifeless at the sky above her and Thorin staring at her face unable to believe she was gone. He pulled the sword from her chest and lunged for Azog, who had turned to grab his mace and swung it once more at the dwarf; only Thorin moved his broken body with a blinding rage, swinging his sword and taking the orc's other arm – and then he raised the sword and took Azog's head.

There was no joy in this victory, no victory in finally felling the defiler – not when he turned to Nora behind him, the blood darkening her already red dress – not when she was dead. He loved her, he would have married her made her his queen, given her children they would have raised to be great dwarves. But that dream was gone now, snuffed out so quickly after he had begun to dream it. She truly had come to save him, and she'd loved him enough to give her own life to do it.

…

With a great heave Nora woke gasping for breath, a terrible pain in her chest as though her heart was cut straight through. For several moments she lay unable to move save the small jolt her chest gave as her heart began once more to beat, staring at the ceiling above her so strange after so long in Middle Earth. When she could finally breathe once more she climbed to her feet shaking and confused; for she had thought she'd died, she thought that was the end, her last act. Only she stood standing at the set of five doors, the span of almost two hundred years – the doors that would take her once more back into Thorin's life. And she reached for the last door, the one of the battle, turning the cold handle and pulling it open to see what she had done.