Forty Eight

A/N: Over the past few chapters, we have been simply overwhelmed by the positive feedback we've been getting. As much fun as this story is to write, it's even more fun to hear about your enjoyment in reading it.

We want to offer special congratulations and thanks to the readers ramblin' rambler, Miss Mungoe, and decade diary for their obsessiveness-ahem, I mean dedication. :) All three read FtF from beginning to the current chapter in one sitting. Even we wouldn't try that! :D We bow to your superior craziness. Thank you.

Billa had made it perhaps halfway up the tunnel when she collided with Thorin. The dwarf heard the boom of the dragon's laughter at her back, issuing from the treasure chamber below, and feared some great burst of fire to follow. Scooping her up, invisible or no, he turned and sprinted back the way he'd come, not slowing until they burst into the chamber where the others were still asleep.

Thorin panted, face relieved and anguished and frantic all at the same time. "Billa," he gasped, realizing he was holding an invisible halfling. The ring had made no difference in the nigh absolute darkness of the tunnel. "Are you alright? What happened?" He set her down gently, placing his hands where he guessed her shoulders would be and groping around awkwardly until he got it right.

Billa realized his problem and yanked the ring off, wincing slightly as it caught on her knuckle and tore the skin. Until then she'd been silent, part of her still fearing the dragon's wrath.

"He knows where we are. We need to move." Her voice shook slightly, but the rest of her seemed steady enough. "I'm not hurt, Thorin, please, we need to move. Now."

The feeling of his strong arms around her, the instinctive longing for safety- she would have loved to give in, but there was no time for that right now. Her heart was in her throat, knowing without a doubt that if he wanted to, Smaug could kill them all where they slept.

"He's awake, we talked, I escaped, I found it, let's go!"

Echoing Billa's urgency, Thorin turned to the others, who were already mostly awake now and staring at them questioningly. "Everyone up! Grab your gear, and don't waste time with questions. We're going. Now." His tone left no room for argument, and within a minute, the dwarves were packed up and jogging toward the stone door, weapons in hand.

"You found it? You said you found it?" Thorin asked Billa as they went out into the cold night, gazing out from their vantage point across the moonlit land below.

"Where are we going?" Dwalin barked, looking very confused.

Billa ignored Thorin's query, flapping her hands agitatedly at Dwalin. "Out. Away. Far from here. For all I know, he let me go so he could follow us and eat us one at a time." Smaug's taunts about the Arkenstone were still ringing in her ears, burning in her mind. Was it really so useless a thing? It was just a stone, she knew that. A gem like any other. But the dwarves had obviously attached some great meaning to it.

"He let you go?" asked Balin, startled.

"Yes, yes, he said take it and go, and so I went." She fixed her eyes on Thorin. "He gave it to me, Thorin. He knew I had it and he let me walk away with it."

Thorin looked at her as though she might be half-mad. "You're sure it's the Arkenstone? Why would he-? Did he give you any reason?" He didn't seem to be able to make any more sense of it than Billa had been able to.

Billa pulled it from her pocket and waved it under his nose, unsettled by its unearthly blue-white glow. Because it wasn't really blue-white at all. It was white-white, with traces and dashes and glimmers of other colors laced through it, exactly as though there were a rainbow of flame trapped inside it.

"Yes, I'm sure it's the bloody Arkenstone, Thorin. You said I'd know it when I saw it, and sure enough I did. And you should be darn pleased I saw it when it fell- it was wedged between the Worm's scales. Nearly hit me on the konk, too. Can we go now, please?"

"That may be just what the beast wants," Balin interjected, looking a bit baffled by this whole business. "To get us away from the Mountain where we can hide, and out into the open. It'll be a five-day journey back to Laketown with as many wounded as we have, and he'd have no trouble hunting us down and incinerating us during that time, not to mention the potential for another Orc attack." He took a breath, intentionally trying to calm himself. "Just let's please be sensible about this and think a moment!"

The halfling rounded on Balin, brandishing the luminescent stone at him. "And you think he can't roast us all in that tunnel of yours? It's nearly a straight line from the treasure hall to this door, and he knows right where we are, now."

"Whoa, slow down there, little burglar." Bofur put his hands on her shoulders and forced her to back up a couple steps. "Calm yerself down, lass. And don't go wavin' that t'ing around. Ye'll drop it."

Thorin glanced between her and the glowing stone, frowning slightly. He didn't have time to marvel at its beauty, though. They were all in on the dragon's deadly game now, and what his next move might be had them stumped. This was too peculiar for words. "Billa, if he knew he could kill us all so easily, why wait? Why the charade? Why give you the stone and allow you to warn us?"

"I don't know!" Billa glanced at him, a gleam of desperation in her eyes. "He said that he wanted me to bring it to you, because it meant nothing and was nothing and he'd kill you either way!" Her voice was climbing higher, into the hysterical range. Bofur shook her slightly, and the halfling fell silent, breathing hard. For all that she'd been so competent in the treasure hall, she was shaking now. "There has to be a way out of this."

"Uncle." Fili was standing nearest the tunnel, his expression unreadable. "Let me go to the beast's chamber, see what he's doing. If we can at least know what direction we can expect an attack from-"

"Are yer brains jangled, lad?" Gloin scowled at him. "If ya think we'd let ya go off ta that place on yer own, then ya've less sense than I thought."

"We'll wait out here, at least until morning," Thorin said, taking the stone from Billa and pocketing it without a second glance. "If the beast means to incinerate us from within, that'll save us. If, failing that, he flies out to get us here on this shelf, we have a good chance of getting back inside before he does."

The others murmured anxiously, but ultimately saw it was the only plan that- for the moment- made much sense. They began unshouldering their belongings and bedrolls again, keeping as close as possible to the face of the stone wall. This, at least, sheltered them from the worst of the occasional gusts of icy wind that battered against the shelf.

"Come here, Billa," Thorin pulled the frantic hobbit into his arms. It was clear she'd been through quite an ordeal, and it would take her a long while to calm down again. "It's alright. I won't let him hurt you. You're safe now."

Billa pressed herself against him and tried to control her own trembling, screwing her eyes tight shut. "It's not me I'm worried about. I can live without me." She chuckled weakly at her own joke.

Fili wasn't about to give up, though. "Uncle... I can... please, let me help." He could see that Thorin needed to stay here with Billa- the hobbit needed him. But if they just knew what the dragon was doing, if they could predict his next move, then maybe things wouldn't be so tense.

"No, Fili." Thorin shook his head. "For the time being, we keep together. Get some rest. We'll hold decision-making for the morrow. Billa and I will take the first watch." He escorted the now-frail halfling toward the wall, setting his back to it and then drawing her into his sturdy shoulder. "It's alright," he whispered again. "We're safe."

It took much reassuring and comforting to calm her down, and even then, she wasn't at all easy with their situation. Nestled under his arm, she gazed out at the rough valley, searching the deep shadows for any hint of movement. The night was quiet, though, and the only sounds that broke the stillness were the occasional calls of nocturnal birds.

"I don't like it, Thorin. I don't like that dragon, and I don't like that stone. It's not right." She shifted against him, shivering as a cold breeze swirled briefly against the wall, tousling her hair.

Thorin had been thinking much the same. It didn't seem right. The dragon would never have given it up if he didn't have some foul purpose in mind. Of that, he was certain. "I know little of it," he admitted. "In my youth, I watched my grandfather fall to madness, cradling it at night like a newborn when he thought no one was looking. It troubled me then, but I don't know if the stone was to blame or the entire, overwhelming treasure. But this thing," he patted his pocket, "whatever it is... if Smaug wants me to have it, it cannot be good."

"But it was to serve such good," she whispered, her brows lowered in confusion. "I don't understand. It's just a stone, nothing more and nothing less, a stone that you've given meaning to. No more or less valuable than my mother's glory box, and for the same reasons." She trailed off, frowning, shoulders hunched against the wind and uncertainty.

Thorin shook his head gravely. "I fear it's far more than that. Like you and your ring, we dwarves have never fully understood the Arkenstone. I've heard tales of jewels over which the elves warred in the First Age, jewels that destroyed nations and toppled kingdoms. The silmarili. I fear... my grandfather may have discovered something similar, and never knew the truth."

Billa glanced at him nervously, shivering, though not from the cold. "I wish we could throw them both in the Lake and be done with it." As though she were ashamed of the confession, she spoke quickly, so the words almost blended together. She wanted to speak no more of the evil things, nor of anything else. She wanted to sleep and forget, but knew she wouldn't be able to. Closing her eyes summoned the image of Smaug's great orange eye, gleaming at her under the stairs. The silence resounded for her with the deep rumble of his taunting laugh.

"The burden is ours to bear, for now at least," Thorin said, placing a hand over hers as it strayed to her pocket, a gesture he had begun to notice. A gesture that was becoming a habit. "Wiser minds and hands may take them from us in time, but until that time comes, we do what we must." The Arkenstone was his now, against all hope. The jewel for which this quest had been undertaken, the jewel which meant his kingdom. The battle was half-won. He had only to send word to the other dwarf families now. With their help, the dragon would surely be slain. All the same, it was beginning to gnaw at him, the thought that this small, smooth orb in his pocket might be a thing of evil. This move Smaug had made was very puzzling, indeed. He dismissed it temporarily.

"I... didn't get a chance to thank you yet for... for your courage, Billa. I don't know how any of this will play out, considering Smaug's strange behavior, but all the same... I thank you for what you did. For all you've done. I could ask for no truer, more loyal companion." He smiled down at her.

Billa looked up at him, his strong face illuminated only by faint starlight. She could see the deep eyes, the heavy brows, the strong jaw that had so convinced her of his wildness so long ago in the doorway at Bag End- she could also feel the gentle tenderness in his hands, the beating of his heart. Things that told her over and again, "I love you." But what use was love?

Billa shifted restlessly, gripped his hand and winced, suddenly remembering the way she'd torn her knuckle when taking the ring off earlier. The blood was dry now, but the loose skin caught on Thorin's callouses, and she desperately wanted to hit something. She shifted again, longing to get up and pace, to run inside and see the dragon- to do something.

The halfling swore under her breath. "Why can't I enjoy this? We have peace right now, in this moment. I want to be happy with it."

Thorin leaned down and kissed the top of her head. "Restlessness," he whispered into her wavy hair. "Never truly appreciating a good moment until it's gone. Always thinking ahead, planning, waiting for something else that might never come. Maybe," he planted a gentle kiss behind her pointed ear, "we both can learn to love what we already have. To enjoy it while we still have it. A moment, a breath, a heartbeat. A kiss."

That was a hint if ever she'd heard one. She didn't bother telling him that until he walked into her life, that was how she'd lived. That was how hobbits had always lived (with the possible exception of Lobelia, may the hair on her toes grow ever thinner).

Turning in his arms, ears a-twitch, Billa paused only a moment, their noses brushing. His breath was warm on her face, and smelled nothing like sulfur. She leaned forward until their lips met, finally repaying the kiss he'd given her when she had found the keyhole. Right place, right time. That was all there was to it.

Thorin savored the kiss. It lingered, sweet and heady as mead, long after their lips had parted again. Smiling, he drew her into his shoulder, slowly caressing the soft curve of her back. "Sleep, Billa," he whispered. "I'll keep watch. You'll be no use in the morning if you've had no rest."

"Neither will you," the halfling protested, but it was halfhearted at best. This was what she wanted. What's more, that kiss had taken every ounce of restlessness and drained it right out of her. I should be thanking my lucky stars that I have you, she thought, looking up at him from under his arm. I will never deserve this.