The rain had continued until about noon the day after the company's sojourn into the cave, no one wanting to leave that next morning when they found the water continuing to pour down. For the next two days they had journeyed through to the end of the forest and watched as thick, dark clouds hung lowly over the ever-growing mountains on the horizon. Much to the chagrin of Dori, it appeared they had not seen the last of summer rain.

Sighing sadly, he said as much around the fire that evening, their camp again in a small dell upon the rolling grassy landscape of the Lonelands, "I do wish those clouds would come down from the mountains. I'd rather have rain here than as we go through a high mountain pass."

At the teasing smile that Poppy sent him, the dwarf smiled back across the fire, "You just wait, Poppy. You won't like your precious rain when you're close enough to touch the clouds."

Remaining silent, she just continued smiling and looked back to her work as the nightly storytelling began. Bifur sitting immediately behind her, Bilbo and Bofur on one side, Fili and Kili on the other, she had finished her training that evening with time to spare before sleep overtook her. While she didn't think she was getting any better, her stamina was growing.

Pulling out an old grey wool shirt from her bag, she reached over and gently grabbed Fili's hand, making him start a bit in surprise. Turning his arm over, she carefully pulled out the knife concealed in his gauntlet. Quietly, attempting and failing to understand the warmth that awakened in her stomach, she asked, "May I borrow this?"

Grin having grown wide, he nodded, "Aye, go ahead."

"Thank you." Neither noticed the positively roguish look Kili was giving them. Laying the fabric out before her on the ground, she began to cut, glancing with a discerning eye at Bilbo on occasion as she went. She had extracted two rather half-moon shapes by the time Bofur had concluded the sad though boisterous tale of the first king of the Firebeards. Frowning with arrant confusion when she pinched the two pieces of fabric together and subsequently stuck them on his head, her cousin asked suspiciously, "Poppy…what in the name of the Valar are you doing?"

His wary tone had drawn the attention of the others before she answered with preoccupation, "Making something."

There were a few snickers at that as Bilbo rolled his eyes, "Even Kili can see that."

"Hey!" the dwarf protested from her other side, drawing more laughter, even from her.

"My question is—ow, that's my hair!—what are you making?"

Voice taking on a decidedly maternal heir, she swatted at his hands as he tried to tear the fabric off, "Stop that. Your hair is just fine." Sitting up on her knees, she used her spare needles to pin the two pieces together. Gently poking him when he continued to squirm, she replied with a smile, "I'm sewing you a hat. Yours won't be quite as spectacular, but you can thank Bofur; he was my inspiration."

Grinning cheekily, the storyteller winked at him over his pipe, "You're welcome, lad."

Believing that Bofur looked perfectly fine in his large, outlandish hat, but not at all sure in any way shape or form that he wanted to join in the style himself, Bilbo protested, "Why on earth do I need a hat?"

"Because mountains are cold."

Huffing in frustration as their companions all began laughing again, Bilbo muttered, "Of all the times you choose to be not talkative on this adventure, you have pick the ones that make me look foolish." The bright grin she shot him as she pulled the unfinished present away clearly told him she had intended as much. He sighed heavily again, although the pure happiness behind her smile was consistently draining away any true vexation.

Glancing back, he saw a similar smile on Gandalf's face. The two exchanged a hopeful glance. It was encouraging to see her this way, without all the weight upon her. Bilbo doubted the dwarves noticed. They had not seen how she was before. They had not been there when weeks would pass without a smile gracing her face, without that happy twinkle in her eye appearing. They hadn't been there to see her pain, because somehow their presence, their simple though sometimes delayed acceptance, had brought her back to him.

Cutting off a few stray edges, Poppy reached over once again and replaced Fili's knife in its sheath, the dwarf sending her a small smile though not breaking his conversation with Balin. As she pulled away, her fingertips absently sliding over the leather gauntlet and then the heel of his palm on their way back to her lap, Kili saw his brother gently and subtly close his fingers upon hers for a short moment. Had he not been studiously watching, he wouldn't have noticed the action or the small smile that appeared on Poppy's face. However, he had.

Poppy had pulled out another needle and some thread and was beginning to sew Bilbo's new hat together when conversation was done and there was a slight lull filled only with pipe smoke and the contentment of being among friends. Evil thoughts brewing, Kili finally broke the silence by bringing up a talk that was had every evening. "So, whose turn is it for a night off?"

With thirteen dwarves and usually only around nine or ten hours of watch per night they rotated as to who got to have a night of uninterrupted sleep. After his night of reconnaissance back in the cave, Kili had realized that his brother had not taken a single night off since the evening they attempted to scare Bilbo with the story of orcs. After two days to think about it and some gentle teasing about how close his brother and the hobbit had become that was usually answered with a raised eyebrow and a punch to the shoulder, he had decided that he'd been wrong that night. Perhaps, Poppy had been waiting up for him.

He was going to find out. Nodding, Thorin asked, "Who was it last night?" Dwalin, Balin, and Ori raised their hands. "All right, so-"

Gently cutting his uncle off, Kili grabbed his brother's shoulder and piped up, "Personally, I think Fili should get it because he hasn't taken one in weeks." As Fili turned his head ever so slightly and fixed him with a murderous glare, he saw Poppy stiffen slightly, just enough to be visible. There was an expression in her blue eyes that was something akin to fear. Noticing everyone's stares, he continued helpfully, "Aye, I'm not kidding. Fili, you really need to stop volunteering for all these things. Really, you have nothing to prove, brother."

As Fili's glare turned into one of slight helplessness, Kili's smile widened. As Fili was explaining with as much nonchalance as he could muster, "I don't mind. I really don't," the younger brother felt a sharp, hard kick to his back. Turning about, he saw Bifur in the darkness, his glare rivaling that of Thorin's and a menacing growl escaping his throat. He gave a harsh shake of his head, the axe in his forehead seeming angry with him as well as it moved with the dwarf. Tilting his head as he frowned, Kili tried silently to ask the older dwarf why he was so upset, but Bifur had no chance.

The damage had been done.

Though allowing his older nephew to finish his protests that he didn't mind, Thorin said with a sense of finality and pride, "You can have the night off Fili. You've done well, so you should get a rest."

"There's nothing better than a full night's sleep, lad," Balin added. "You'll miss them before too long."

Caught between complete and utter just disbelief in his mind at the thought of not spending that night's hour with Poppy and happiness at the pride in his uncle's voice, Fili managed a grateful-looking smile, "Thank you, uncle."

Fili found himself having trouble sleeping when he laid down that night, Kili and Thorin on either side of him.

It felt incredibly more than odd not to be getting up for watch. Despite being on a quest, an adventure like none he'd ever had before, he'd become fond of the routine they'd developed. He had nothing against some spontaneity, but as he laid there on his back, staring up at the stars blinking down upon them, he missed the routine…he missed Poppy.

Much of him felt really quite foolish. How could something that had been occurring for less than three weeks have ingrained itself so deeply into his mind? Dwarves were not known for their quickness to anything but anger and likely ale. With every emotion except the necessary desire to protect their brethren they were practically glacial. The older the dwarf, the slower he was generally, likely explaining why Thorin had yet to give up telling Poppy to leave every night.

Friendship was just as slow with dwarves as anything else, but the circumstances of the quest had changed things. It was different when you were with someone all day, every day. It was different when you both had the same purpose, the same drive. He hadn't really known Dori and Ori before the quest, but before they even got to the Shire, they were as close as kin should be.

It was different when a person continually kept proving that her sense of loyalty was as strong as yours, despite knowing those she sought to protect for miniscule percentages of what you'd known them for. It was different when you sat up for an hour in the middle of the night every night with someone, finding an odd sense of contentment in the silence of just sitting together, not necessarily needing to talk. Poppy was just different.

His nephew's restlessness waking him, Thorin asked in a gruff, sleep-filled whisper, "What's wrong, Fili?"

Not turning his head to look at him, the younger dwarf answered, "Nothing. I'm just used to being awake right now."

Smirking slightly, an expression that said exactly who Kili got his family resemblance from no matter how rarely is graced Middle Earth with its presence, he grasped Fili's shoulder and gave it an encouraging squeeze, "You and your brother have done well and I'm proud of you. You deserve the night off, Fili. Get some sleep."

Drawing his hand back, Thorin closed his eyes so as not to embarrass his nephew by seeing the blush of pride that appeared on his face.

Not ten feet away, Poppy was listening to the entire exchange, sleep coming slowly to her as well. Bifur had rolled over at one point, covering her feet with his cloak to ward away the growing nightly chill from the mountains. He'd watched her with mild worry as she continued staring upwards, quite unsure of what to do with herself. He had since fallen asleep after she gave him a small smile to say she was all right.

She would be, of course, but there was a part of her that felt indescribably displeased with the idea of not having Fili and their small time together to look forward to. Oddly enough, that part of her resided somewhere deep within her chest, in that place where all her split-second, not-thought-through decisions came from. After fifteen years in the Old Forest and a few in various places before, she'd come to listen to that deep, hidden part far more than she had before. Or, rather, it had just gotten far louder, not giving her the option of ignoring it.

It certainly wouldn't kill her, but Fili's night off, being separated from him like that, made that place ache. Sighing silently into the night, she turned her head and looked across their dim camp, bodies, bellies, and beards making dark silhouettes from where she laid.

Her eyes flitting from one companion to another, unconsciously making a count of them, they eventually came to rest on a blonde-haired lump between Kili and Thorin. She found him quite awake and looking back at her. For a long moment, they just gazed at one another, both rather unhappy with the course of the evening. In an unusual change, she smiled first, the expression growing into a warm grin. He smiled widely back after a moment, winking at her through the space if only because he knew it made her face flush. Shaking her head in something that had long ago stopped being irritation, she rolled her eyes affectionately.

At a slight shift and a loud snort from Bombur between them, they both rolled over, hoping to find sleep easier to find. Though she felt better in the length of the watch that it took for sleep to finally find her, the ache in Poppy's chest remained. For whatever reason, she had the sinking feeling that the day before them would not bring her good tidings.

Much to her pleasant surprise, Poppy awakened the next morning to find a bird again perched upon her shoulder, loudly and musically welcoming the day. When she turned her head to look at it, the bluebird cocked its head, tweeted once and then took flight. Smiling, she pushed herself up and gave Bifur a nod of good morning.

It was truly a beautiful day. Perhaps the odd feeling she had was wrong.

After readying the always friendly ponies for their day and acquiring her breakfast, she set off across the grassy hills. They were again coming upon some trees and she was excited to reach them.

Upon returning to the group around midday, Kili dropped back next to her, Fili beside him and looking incredibly unhappy. The darker dwarf appeared to be floating upon clouds, however, when he asked with extreme joviality, "Poppy! My lovely Poppy, how did you sleep? I, myself, slept wonderfully."

Beside her Bifur grunted dangerously. Frowning, she looked over Minty's neck as she petted the pony to find Fili's eyes. With an uncertain expression, she silently asked if this meant what she thought it did. He gave a nod. Kili knew and the night before had indeed been all his fault. He was being ornery on purpose. The younger dwarf appeared to be incredibly pleased with himself as he watched the exchange, a knowing smile appearing.

Glancing to the staff in her hand, she looked back to Fili and raised a questioning eyebrow. A smile appeared on her friend's face and he nodded. Between them, Kili was not lucky enough to understand what that meant. Simultaneously, Fili reached out with his fist and Poppy with her staff, both whacking him harshly on the shoulder.

"Ow!"

Leaving Kili angrily rubbing his shoulders and Bifur huffing with laughter, she bounded forward a few feet and handed Bombur the onions she had found that morning before once again leaving their company to a good many farewells.

She was on the hunt for more goodies for Bombur later that afternoon when she came across it.

Trampled into the leftover mud and yellowed grass were harsh, deep tracks cutting a messy path through the ground. Normally, she would have taken them as evidence of a herd of deer. However, she had yet to see any other sign of deer since they had left the woods. Plus, deer did not move in straight lines…nor did they have claws attached to paw that were twice as large as her feet to rend deeply into the soil.

Completely shoving the idea of finding food aside, she followed them, her staff in her hand in preparation for…anything. That ache that told her the day was not going to be a good one rose straight up into her throat as she ran alongside her discovery, worry beginning to invade her every thought.

Wargs were not a good thing by themselves. Wargs in a pack were far, far worse. She could think of no other explanation for the tracks. They were too big to be wolves and too orderly, albeit not exactly disciplined, to be unguided. Trying with all her might to rein in her thoughts, a lack of imminent danger allowing all her worst ideas to sprint off as far as they could, she at least managed to stay quiet as she continued farther and farther from the path her companions had taken.

She had gone what she estimated was six or seven miles before finding a terminus of the trail. In a dell not unlike the one she and the others had camped in the night before were the remnants of a campsite. This one, however, was a ramshackle affair that had not been well broken that morning. The fire still smoked slightly, its embers not having been put out. Discarded remains of carcasses of small animals were strewn about, apparently having fed both the wargs and their riders.

Poppy's breath caught as she knelt in the faint protection of a lone bush. Nothing moved and the wind had died, though the birds still sang. Mind telling her that the camp had been deserted, that nothing was going to jump out and eat her, her chest was practically dancing with fear and worry, though not for herself.

Someone, someone who rode wargs, was following them. She hadn't the faintest idea why the group had yet to attack unless they quite simply couldn't find them. From the camp, the tracks moved north, the wargs' riders apparently deciding that the dwarves would take that route closer to the mountains. As terrible images of wargs attacking the company began to fill her mind, one thought rose up from that aching place.

Whispering entirely to herself from her hiding place, Poppy breathed, "I have to tell Thorin."

Standing and tightening her pack onto her back, she began to run. They had to know. Focusing only on her own breathing and the ground beneath her sprinting feet, she made her way over the rolling ground and only pressed on faster when she reached the trees, their shade bringing some comfort to her screaming lungs.

The sun was beginning its descent when she finally skidded to a stop, her chest heaving, her feet aching, and the blood rushing through her ears… Even when she stopped, the rushing sound did not. Skin paling and blue eyes widening to the point where her vision swam, a strangled sob escaped her. Of all the times… Of all blooming the times!

The aching part of her complained at her terrible luck, but even it could not make itself heard in her mind as her temples began to pound, a migraine of epic proportions setting in as her fear settled into its place, spreading outward like a disease to every muscle and nerve she possessed.

Before her, rushing along with white caps and a strong, fast current, was a river. It easily spanned the width of ten yards and through the water she could not see the bottom. As she stood there, beginning to shake, Poppy's body forgot to breathe. It was too scared to breathe as the unforgettable feeling of water filling her lungs washed over her, knocking every logical, sane thought from her mind.

Tears beginning to course down her face and a pair of blue eyes staring at her from her terror-struck imagination, she stood paralyzed on the bank for a length of time she couldn't guess. Her eyes even scrunched themselves shut as she crumpled to the ground, her knees shaking too dangerously to keep her upright. The blue eyes continued staring, the loving look within them tearing at her soul, the crushing feel of water rushing up into her nose and mouth as she sobbed.

Fighting valiantly through the hysteria screaming and clamoring through her every pore, her heart prodded at her that she had to get to the company, had to tell Thorin, had to find Bilbo and protect him.

Letting out a few shaky, tear-riddled breaths, she crawled toward the edge, her overwhelming terror fighting her every move. Gingerly, she put her hand into the water. It was cool…just like the other water had been. Still trembling, she pulled out her staff and placed it into the water, attempting to gauge its depth.

The rushing current reached almost two thirds of the way up. The water would easily be up to her chest should she…no, no when she attempted to cross. Her terror screamed at her to reject that dedication, to turn back, curl up into a ball and sob until she was no more, until all the pain had gone, all the memories had left, all the until she was just as dead and numb as she had been before.

"I can sob when I get across," Poppy muttered to herself, the blue eyes still staring at her in her mind taking on an encouraging air, that aching place managing to take back a tenuous hold on her sanity. She could sob when she had Bilbo again. She could sob when she had Fili there to smile at her. She could sob when she'd gotten to them.

Pushing herself waveringly to her feet like a small child, she took her first step down the gently sloping bank. Pushing through the chaos in her brain, she forced herself to take another…and then another…and another after that. Closing her eyes, she used her staff as a guide, a pillar of support, as the water rose higher and higher.

For a split second, her heart, her sense, had won completely when the water had reached her chest and she had kept going, as the water had begun to recede. For a split second, she could see herself conquering the terror. But just as the heroes' in all Bofur's stories did, her moment of pure and unadultered hope came swiftly to an end.

Her foot slipped upon an algae-covered rock resting in the dirt of the riverbed. Her grip upon everything faltered as she felt herself go sideways, as she felt the water pick her up and force her upon its way. As it rushed over her face, pushing her down into the dark, she screamed, water pouring into her mouth.

As she clawed frantically for purchase on something, anything, and only found thin air, she felt her grip upon her sanity slip, the terror of a fifteen year old hobbit overtaking her, drowning her under its inescapable weight…

A/N: Why hello there. So, here we are. That last bit was harder to write than I thought, but I present it to you now. By all means, please let me know what you think! On another note, my area is set to have a rather large snowstorm this week, so maybe, just maybe, I'll manage to have a snowday for the third year in college in a row. I would appreciate this greatly weather-gods. Anyway, thanks so much for reading, review if the desire takes you (I'll answer last chapter's today, I promise), and I hope you enjoyed. :)