A/N: GUYS! I'M SO SORRY! I COMPLETELY SKIPPED A CHAPTER! SO, GO BACK AND REREAD CHAPTER 33. IT WILL MAKE SO MUCH MORE SENSE!

But thank you for all the lovely reviews. I've had to repost several chapters. My apologies dear readers.

Chapter Summary: An overprotective gaggle of dwarves

Thorin sat upon a rock, downstream a little way from the throng of dwarves carrying about, his gaze trained on the small fire that his company had managed to start.

A sense of pride filled him at their unflappable nature and ingenuity.

More specifically, though, Thorin's gaze was trained on the shivering little creature who was sitting in front of the flames, curled in on herself, head bent low.

Lyla sat unmoving in the same spot Dwalin had guided her to, with her knees pulled close, her chin resting atop them, and her arms wrapped tightly around herself, as she huddled near the warmth of the fire, staring into the rich orange flames that crackled and snapped as they consumed the dried branches.

Thorin noticed when she winced and jerked her head to the side as Oin's fingers danced over the wound hidden beneath her hair. He'd already wrapped the the wound on her hand in a bit of torn cloth. And there was nothing he could really do for the blossoming bruises on her throat.

"Ye'll have to hold still lass," Oin grumbled in mild annoyance, grasping Lyla's head gently to still her. "I can't see anythin' if yer movin' about."

A scowl worked its way onto Thorin's face and the dull roar of fury started to bubble up again.

If Azog were still alive…

Thorin let out a huff of air and cast his gaze upward at the trees. Mahal help him. This stream of thought was getting him nowhere. He would be much more useful putting his energy into taking care of the issues at hand rather than dwelling on the past.

His eyes flicked over to Lyla again.

The first issue to take care of was to stop that insufferable shivering the hobbit was doing. The elf (and Thorin sneered at the thought) had pointed out that Lyla was far more likely than they to suffer some adverse effects from their trip down the river. She was not as hardy or impervious to climate changes as the dwarves or elves were.

'They are easily affected by the cold,' he had remarked quietly, 'And with her open wounds, she could become rather ill if we don't act soon.'

Thorin snorted. He could see it for himself in every shiver and shudder that the little hobbit exhibited. He wasn't blind. He saw how delicate she was.

He saw that she needed to be taken care of.

And so the dwarves had rallied, most willingly, to get a fire going and dispose of…unwanted reminders of what had happened only a short time ago. They wanted to afford every comfort to their hobbit, even if it was so little an offering such as a bit of warmth and friendly guards to watch over her.

But even as the fire crackled merrily, Lyla's shivers only subsided marginally. And they couldn't stay where they were for long. They needed supplies. They had no food and relief from their journey. They needed to head to a settlement and get reorganized, recuperated and ready to head to Erebor.

Right now, though? Right now they just needed warm beds and hot meals in their bellies.

He gazed at the little hunched figure by the fire once more, a strange feeling filling his chest.

They needed to take care of her.

He needed to take care of her.

Make amends. Make things right.

Erebor could wait a little longer.

Oin had finally left her in peace, his mother hen act ceasing for the time being. But, now, to Lyla's befuddlement, she had different company bombarding her with questions and attention. Fili and Kili flanked either side of her, trying to keep her warm.

And talk her ear off apparently.

"Mistress Boggins, how are you feeling?" Kili pestered again and again, "Is there anything you need?"

And Fili was right there trying to hush his brother. "Can't you see that she's not in the mood for conversation Kili!" he hissed across her face, towards his brother, "Just be quiet for a few moments."

"But I just want to make sure she's alright!"

"Leave her be. You don't make sure someone's alright by shouting in their ear."

"I want to take care of her! Mistress Boggins deserves our attention, especially after everything that's happened."

"Not if it's annoying Kili. What good will annoying her do anyone?"

"I am NOT annoying."

"Could have fooled me," Fili snorted, "As it is she just needs some quiet. Right Mistress Baggins?"

"Sorry, hmm?" she murmured distractedly her gaze drifting towards Fili's furrowed brows. She'd only been half listening to their conversation. She'd only been half listening to anything really.

Her mind was muddled, heavy, and tired.

She supposed it was still a bit waterlogged.

And she was purposely trying to avoid thinking too hard on certain events. Azog, Thorin, the river, Thranduil's halls…

Her shudders rocketed through her body. She needed to forget those things. At least for now.

It was for the best.

Fili gave her a gentle look and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, as worry creased his brow, "Are you alright? You look rather pale."

"Fine," she murmured, "I'm fine."

No use in worrying them over nothing really.

She would be fine.

She would.

"Don't worry Mistress Boggins,"

"Baggins Kili. It's Baggins."

"Baggins, then," Kili smiled at Lyla, "We'll take good care of you!"

Lyla curled in on herself a little more and smiled into her knees.

These two were incorrigible.

The trio lapsed into a comfortable silence.

For a moment at least.

"Are you sure you're alright Mistress Boggins?"

Lyla groaned inwardly.

A short while later, Bofur and Ori were the next ones to sit by her side as Fili and Kili went with the elf Legolas to scout the terrain ahead per Thorin's request.

Bofur draped his arm around her still shivering form, plopping his hat atop her head much to Lyla's surprise.

Bofur never parted with his hat.

"You don't need to give this to me…"

"Yer lookin' mighty cold there little one," Bofur remarked drily, pulling Lyla back gently, until she was nestled near his side. "I'll not have you freezin' yer ears off."

"I'm fine," she remarked, her voice muffled by the sleeve of Bofur's jacket. "I'm fine."

"Are you-are you sure?" Ori's hesitant voice wafted into Lyla's ear, "You don't look like you're fine Miss Baggins. Rather pale actually." Oh Ori.

Sweet Ori.

Lyla smiled and turned to face the hesitant, shy dwarf on her right. He looked at her with reddened cheeks and a half smile on his face as he ducked his head.

"Yes," she murmured quietly in response, giving him a bigger smile in thanks, "I'm fine. Don't worry."

"Aye," Bofur nudged her head back against his shoulder, tightening his arms around her, "Maybe not yet, but ye will be."

"Mistress Baggins? Lyla?"

Lyla's eyes fluttered open and she nearly tipped backwards in surprise, wincing as her head pounded behind her eyes. Her clothes felt stiff, her muscles aching.

Thorin Oakenshield was crouched in front of her, his face a few inches from her own, his blue eyes glittering with an intensity that sent Lyla reeling.

When had he gotten there?

Had she fallen asleep?

"Easy lass," Bofur murmured, tightening his grip and helping her to straighten up. "Oi, that's a fine way to wake someone up yer majesty." Bofur sounded indignant as he addressed Thorin.

To his credit (and Lyla's incredulity) the dwarf king looked a bit remorseful.

"Sorry," he murmured and then his eyes hardened a little as he gazed at her, "We need to get moving. Are you alright to walk?"

"Y-" Lyla swallowed back the scratchiness in her throat, "Yes of course. Of course."

Thorin stared at her for a moment, his eyes narrowed, assessing.

And then he sighed and rose to his feet slowly, keeping a firm gaze on Lyla's face.

"Yes. Yes of course," he mimicked her earlier phrase, "Master Bofur, I'll leave you in charge of her welfare for now?"

Lyla's head came up in surprise.

What?

"Aye yer majesty," Bofur remarked, helping Lyla to her feet, keeping a firm grip around the hobbit's waist, "I'll be right be her side. Never you fear."

"That's not really necessary-" Lyla started.

Thorin gave her a firm look.

"I beg to differ on that score my dear," he remarked quietly and resolutely as he straightened his coat.

Lyla bristled at his tone.

"I beg to differ," She mimicked him this time, wincing as the words felt garbled in her mouth, "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

Thorin titled his head thoughtfully, and stepped closer to Lyla, the distance between them growing very small.

She could feel his warm breath on her face as he peered down at her, one eyebrow raised in question.

"Oh?"

"Yes." Lyla replied confidently, pushing the tickle in her throat back. She was fine. She didn't need them to worry about her. They had more important things to do. Honestly.

Thorin stepped even closer to Lyla and her heart started hammering.

"I," his words were low and careful as his blue eyes glittered challengingly, "I would really reconsider that statement my dear. You're face is flushed, you're shivering and her gaze is unfocused. It's a safe option keeping Bofur with you. And I'll not brook any further argument from you. You seem to have no sense of self-preservation.

Lyla's eyes widened and a frown formed on her lips.

Had he really just…?

Did he…?

She narrowed her eyes and glowered at the dwarf king.

"I'm fine." She muttered, her nose twitching. "I'm perfectly-"

She sneezed.

Bofur chuckled.

Thorin smirked.

"Indeed," he remarked.

Bother.

Lyla felt smothered as they made their way down the bank of the river, towards the settlement that Legolas called Laketown.

Apparently the elf had scaled one of the tall pines in the forest and spotted the distance from his perch.

What confused Lyla was why Legolas was still helping them. He had no ties to their quest. And weren't the elves and the dwarves supposed to despise one another? Thorin, in particular, Lyla was certain, would have found ill favor with an elf tagging along on any portion of the journey, no matter how small the timeframe might be, especially considering that the elf following along towards Laketown was, in fact, Thranduil's son.

It made no sense.

Despite her confused thoughts, however, she did take comfort in Legolas' report.

"It's only a few leagues away from here," he had remarked, "If we make good time, we could be there by nightfall."

'Nightfall? That didn't seem so far away' Lyla had thought at first. Even though she was tired, her head muddled and her joints aching. She could make that distance. She'd gladly walk that distance if it meant the hope of a warm bed tonight.

That sounded glorious.

Yes. She could do this.

But once they'd gotten underway, however, she was rethinking her optimism.

Her aches increased with each step she took, her exhaustion making her stumble. All she wanted to do was find a nice warm blanket and curl up somewhere, anywhere.

But what baffled her was the fact that despite her protests that she was capable of looking after herself (even as she sneezed repeatedly), she was surrounded by dwarves! At least two on each side of her, boxing her in like stalwart sentinels or guards. Bofur and Dwalin were on her left, casting curious glances her way every few moments with, while Nori and Balin on the other side peppered her with the same questions:

"Are ye alright?"

"Do we need to rest for a bit?"

"Are ye sure yer alright?"

Lyla was completely baffled by their stifling behavior. It was driving her mad really. They wouldn't even let her carry her own things! Dwalin carried Lyla's small sword and absolutely ignored her whenever she stated that she was perfectly capable of carry anything, the dwarves would nod their heads and ignore her again. .

Didn't they trust her to take care of herself?

Lyla sighed.

Dwarves.

The stubborn, confusing company was enough to zap the rest of Lyla's energy.

She bit back a yawn and stumbled as her foot connected with a rock.

Hands instantly steadied her and a gaggle of dwarves converged around her, helping her to the ground, their faces pressed tightly around her, peering at her carefully as concerned questions floating into her ears.

"What's going on?"

"Are ye hurt lass?"

"Should we stop?" "She's IS a bit warm, perhaps we should look for some soothing herbs?"

"I'm fine." She murmured trying to stand, "Just a bit clumsy is all."

She tried to push her way up, but two pairs of arms hoisted her to her feet instead.

What in Eru's name was going with these blasted dwarves?!

"I'm fine," Lyla repeated, trying to pull away from Dwalin's and Nori's grasps, "Truly."

The dwarves ignored her.

"Perhaps someone should carry her then?" Balin suggested sagely.

"Ah but I have a better suggestion."

Lyla and the rest of the company froze—words left unspoken, conversations halted mid-sentence—as a tall man stepped from the bushes, his dark hair and clothing allowing his the blend in with the scenery quite effectively.

They dwarves much have overlooked him while they say debating about Lyla's welfare

Lyla wanted to roll her eyes.

And would have had not the man been pointing an arrow at her.

"I suggest that perhaps it is time you explain your presence here." The man gazed around the group , calculating and analyzing. "What business do dwarves, an elf, and," He peered at Lyla for a moment, eyes narrowed in curiosity, "and this…creature have wandering through the woods near Laketown?" Creature?!

Lyla huffed even as she sniffled, her head feeling a bit stuffy.

"I'll have you know," she grumbled lowly, "that I am a hobbit."

The man quirked his head slightly to one side gazing at Lyla with an air of suspicion. His bow was still taut and waiting for an arrow to be released.

"A Hobbit you say? Hmm…" The man peered down his nose at Lyla, "And what business do you have here in the East then, hobbit?" The company tightened around Lyla, trying to shield her from the arrow pointed at her chest.

"Er well, uh.."

How did Lyla explain this?