Bilba stood in the Gallery of Kings. Around her the past kings of Erebor stood silent sentinel over the mountain, sharp, silent features cast in glittering gold.

A shriek sounded and she spun, just in time to see two small boys dart through the doorway. Identical expressions of joy were directed at her before, behind them, Thorin came chasing them, an idiotic grin plastered on his face.

Weight was suddenly settled in her arms and Biba looked down in surprise find herself holding a baby. A tug on her skirts and a little girl was there, pulling on her with one hand and pointing toward the boys and Thorin with the others.

"Can I go play too, Amad? Can I?"

"Of course you can," Bilba found herself saying and, with a squeal of happiness, the little girl was off, running toward Thorin who lifted her up and tossed her into the air.

Thorin looked happier than she'd ever seen him. He caught his daughter and settled her on his hip before reaching to take the hand of one of the twins. The other, Ash, Bilba thought, it was probably Ash, bounded in front of him as the entire group turned and began walking toward her.

Bilba watched her family approach and a feeling of peace spread through her. With a smile on her face, Bilba hefted the baby more firmly in her arms and stepped forward to meet her family. Thorin reached to take her hand-

A splash and a muttered swear rang out and Bilba opened her eyes. She grimaced at the feel of hard, rocky ground under her, and the prickle of dry branches poking through her clothing. They'd made it under the river and found the other end of the sewer blocked off by heavy brush and a low hanging tree. This had been perfect, as the first thing they'd seen when peering through had been rows upon rows of orcs marching across the landscape and into the city.

Bilba had felt sick but there was nothing they could do. In the end they'd settled down, Fili and Kili taking turns keeping watch. Bilba had offered to do a turn as well but they'd pointed out she was doing more than enough carrying the ring.

She could feel Kili pressed against her back, facing into the sewer to prevent her from accidentally rolling into the water while she slept. His breathing was still even and regular so she carefully pulled away from him and sat up, wincing as brush and debris caught at her hair and clothing.

"Here," Fili's voice came. "Let me."

Bilba felt his hand in her hair and obediently held still while he freed strands from the clinging bush. Once he was done, she gave her head a small shake to clear off any debris and smiled at him.

"Thank you."

Fili gave her a tired smile in response. He was leaning against the lip of the sewer, one leg, drenched from knee to boot, pulled up with his arms absently wrapped around it At Bilba's raised eyebrow he shrugged. "Drifted off. Nearly took a swim."

Bilba grimaced. "That would be awful."

He shrugged. "I don't know. The smell would be so bad it might drive off any orcs we happen to run into."

"It might drive Kili and I off too," Bilba said dryly. Already, the smell from the portions of her trousers that had been in the water was enough to rob her of her appetite.

It occurred to her that Fili was talking at almost normal volume and she frowned. She heard nothing from past the bushes and, leaning forward to peer through breaks in the branches, showed nothing but empty landscape.

"The sun is going down," Fili said. "It'll be safer to move in the dark, just in case there are any stragglers."

"All right." Distantly, a loud boom echoed through the air and she flinched in surprise.

"Trebuchets," Fili said darkly. "I saw a few of them being moved with the orcs."

Bilba's stomach dropped to her feet. "We should go now, before it's too late."

Fili sighed, dropping his head back against the stone of the sewer entrance. "There's not a thing we can do to change the outcome of that battle. It'll be decided before we ever get near Mount Doom, no matter how soon we leave."

"Oh," Bilba had been half raised up, and now dropped down again in resignation.

"They'll be all right," Fili said. "I can't see Aragorn letting a bunch of orcs stop him, same with the others. You'll see. We'll get back and they'll all be there waiting for us."

"Fatigue has made you very optimistic," Bilba said with some amusement.

"Perhaps so," Fili agreed, "or maybe it's warranted."

"Perhaps." Bilba sighed and nudged Kili. Grumbling he woke up and replaced his brother, allowing Fili to sprawl out as best he could. He was asleep almost before Kili was settled. The two of them didn't speak much, spending their time instead watching the light dim through the breaks in the brush and trying to pretend the smell from the sewer wasn't as bad as they both knew it was.

They woke Fili once the sun was set. He doled out a ration of the water and food they'd been supplied with and then they carefully made their way out. Kili took her hand, knowing it was too dark for her to see much on her own.

The sewer came out at the very edge of the city where it lay on the far side of the river, the slopes of the Ephel Duath mountain range rising in front of them. As Bilba knelt to push her way through the growth, she unconsciously twisted around to try and look back.

It was impossible to see through the city itself but, in the distance, the sky held a faint glow and she could hear a low din, the sounds of war mixing together into a steady cacophony.

"Yavanna, protect them," Bilba whispered.

"Us too," Fili said, moving past her.

"You have Mahal," Bilba retorted, picking up her pace to keep up with him as they started walking. In the darkness, the landscape was little more than rocks she kept tripping over and shadowy trees. She imagined it looked little different than most of the other rocks and trees she'd passed, and tripped over, during her long journey. If she'd learned anything at all during this quest, and the one to take back Erebor, it was that much of the landscape was spectacularly boring and out to get her, with only brief bursts of better things, like the Shire or Lothlorien, to break up the monotony.

They didn't speak as they traveled. They'd waited for night to fall to avoid detection, but it went both ways and the last thing they wanted was to alert something to their presence by talking.

Bilba noticed when the ground began to grow rockier and more jagged. She was grateful she'd thought to request sturdy boots before leaving Gondor. Her feet were designed for the rolling plains of Shire, or even the open fields that lay outside. No one was prepared for the razor-sharp rocks and brittle shale that comprised Mordor.

Before long, a dull glow caught her attention, slowly growing closer until it resolved into a city spread out before them.

Minas Morgul, once a city of light and peace, now horribly corrupted by darkness and vile things. The towers and peaks of the city all glowed with the same unnatural, pale light, giving it an unearthly look. She had no idea what caused it and felt she probably didn't want to know. Before the city lay a wide bridge, crossing a stream filled with foul smelling, brackish water.

As they neared, she unconsciously tensed, expecting the ring to use the presence of so much evil to strike at her. To her surprise, it remained quiet, as it had for some time now. The weight around her neck was still increasing and she had a headache, as if claws were picking at the corners of her mind, but the attacks it had been throwing at her of late were strangely absent.

It worried her, oddly enough. It wasn't that she wanted the attacks, but the sudden lack made her wonder what the ring was planning. That it had a will of its own was abundantly clear and she very much doubted it was simply not bothering to do anything anymore. It was biding its time, for what she didn't know but it couldn't possibly be good.

"Over here," Fili said suddenly, pointing toward the rock wall.

Bilba frowned. In the dim light of the city she could see that the rock appeared to go upward at a sharp angle with no apparent breaks or openings. "Where? I thought there was supposed to be stairs."

Kili gave her a nervous look but neither of them said anything. A bad sign. Wordlessly, Bilba followed them over to the wall, only to come to a dead stop as the rock finally came into clear focus.

There were cuts in the rock shaped into narrow slabs, jagged, misaligned and many cracked or broken. They led upward until they were well out of sight, promising death or serious injury to any foolish enough to attempt to climb them.

"Those are not stairs," Bilba breathed in horror. "That is a ladder, and a poor one at that."

"We have no choice," Fili replied shortly. "It's the only way."

"I'll go last," Kili said helpfully. "If you start to fall I'll catch you."

And then they'd both go down, Bilba thought dourly. She took a deep breath, her mouth suddenly dry. Her stomach knotted inside her and she could feel herself starting to shake from fear at the thought of going up that high.

"Come on," Fili said, with compassion, taking her hand. "Faster we start the sooner it's over with."

"One way or the other," Bilba muttered darkly.

Fili grabbed the first of the stairs and started to pull himself up. As he did, Bilba noticed the slabs were angled enough that she should at least be able to crawl, little consolation.

She stood at the base and watched as Fili moved upward for several minutes, trying to convince her legs to work. Finally, Kili grabbed her arms lightly and physically put them on the stone before kneeling and giving her a lift, forcing her to start whether she wanted to or not.

She most decidedly did not.

Bilba fixed her eyes on Fili, tried her best to not hold her breath, and started to climb.

It was pure torture. The ring could have pulled out all the stops and launched a full attack on her and she probably wouldn't have noticed. She could hear her heartbeat thudding in her ears and her breathing was ragged and uneven, occasionally bringing spots of dizziness as she climbed.

It felt like an eternity before they reached a ledge that opened into a narrow, closed in passageway. Fili crawled in first and then leaned back out to grab her and haul her in, and then Kili.

Bilba collapsed on the floor, gasping for air as her nerves struggled to settle. Fili, bastard that he was, only allowed her a few moments before grabbing her arm and dragging her to her feet again.

"We stop too long and you'll decide to stay here," he said in response to her glare.

He was probably right, Bilba thought, but that didn't mean she had to like it. There was absolutely no light inside the passage, as opposed to outside where there'd been the light of the moon and the city below. As Kili came up beside her, Bilba wrapped an arm around his waist, hooking her fingers around the leather of his belt as an irrational fear of the two of them vanishing and leaving her alone flashed through her mind.

Kili returned the gesture and, though it was awkward, they made their way down through the passage. Unlike the so-called stairs, the slope was gentle here and the walk not unpleasant. It was long, however, and the press of pure black had her eyes unconsciously straining as they searched for any bit of light.

A laugh ran through her mind and, suddenly, a little girl darted past her. Kili gave no reaction and, given how dark she knew it was, Bilba realized her mind was playing tricks on her, giving her eyes something to see in the dark.

The small child came to a stop next to Fili and turned back to grin at her, dark hair tumbling about her shoulders and familiar eyes causing Bilba to gasp in surprise.

"Are you all right?" Kili asked in a low voice.

"Fine," Bilba breathed. The little girl was still there and now Bilba noticed her clothing, tiny boots and trousers and a heavy, fur lined jacket that reminded her of one she'd seen before on a much larger individual. Figures he'd dress his daughter just like him, she thought with affection.

The girl spun back around, darting off into the passage and Bilba had to resist the urge to call out to her. It had to be a sign, she decided, a sign everything was going to work out and she and Thorin would both survive and she'd finally have the peace and quiet she'd been longing for after the quest.

She didn't know how much longer they stayed in that passage but she did notice when the temperature started to drop. She remembered once asking if Mordor was hot or cold; it looked like she was going to find out. She shivered as the air slowly turned biting, burrowing into Kili's side and thanking Yavanna that dwarves ran so much hotter than hobbits.

"Are you all right?" Kili asked again and, this time, she answered.

"Cold." She shivered and wrapped her arms around her torso. Ahead of them, she heard movement from Fili and then the thick coat he'd been wearing was draped over her, still heated from where it had been in contact with his body. Bilba gave a sigh of relief and stopped long enough to slide her pack off and pull the coat on properly, belting it around her. It was awkward as she refused to entirely let go of Kili but she got it done and soon curled up against his side again. "Thank you."

They continued and, soon enough, the darkness began to lift little by little. Not entirely, they hadn't been in the passage long enough for daybreak, but enough she could at least see.

She kind of wished she couldn't

As they reached the end of the passage, Bilba found herself facing another set of stairs. This one, at least, had the decency to be stairs instead of a poorly named ladder, but there was where the distinction ended. The slabs of stone were every bit as uneven and crooked as they had been down below and, even from where she stood, Bilba could see broken bits and pieces and even entire chunks missing at points.

And that wasn't even the worst part.

"Of course there are no railings," she mumbled. "You'd think I'd just expect that by now."

"Especially here," Kili said. "Imagine if Mordor had railings and the rest of us didn't?"

"You would look poorly," Bilba admitted tiredly. The act of nearly dragging herself up the mountainside, combined with the walk through the passage had drained her and she couldn't help the outright pleading look she shot toward Fili. Going up the first set of stairs, she'd at least been able to keep her eyes focused up. Turning to look over her shoulder would have taken quite the effort and wouldn't have been something she could have accomplished without effort.

With this next set, the drop off would be ever on her right side, out of the corner of her eye. She couldn't imagine how high up they must be, but doubted she was going to be able to handle it in anything resembling a calm and rational manner.

"All right," Fili nodded to the opening of the passage just before the stairs started. "We'll rest here until the sun rises. We're high enough I doubt we could be seen from below and the cliff juts out far enough to hide us from above." He frowned, studying the stairs. "It's going to be dangerous enough without adding darkness into it."

"Not helpful," Bilba muttered. She let go of Kili and started to sit down only to frown and stop as Fili gestured to her. He reached for the jacket and she let him have it, though not without a betrayed look, much to his amusement. It didn't last, however, as he proceeded to pull the coat on, sat down, pulled her down to sit between his knees with her back against his chest, and belted the coat around her. Immediately, heat radiated through her, and Bilba sighed in relief, settling back with her head against his shoulder.

Fili passed out some of the rations as they waited and Bilba pushed a hand out the top of the coat to accept them. When she did, she was startled to see her hands were cut and scraped, and nearly rubbed raw in places by her climb up the rocks. Fili and Kili had similar injuries, but not as bad as hers. Dwarves, after all, were designed to work with stone and it wouldn't be very effective if their skin was too weak to handle it.

The piece of bread Fili gave her was pitifully small, and her stomach grumbled in protest, but Bilba kept her peace. They'd packed as much as they each could carry but had no idea how long the trip to Mount Doom would take, much less the return trek, meaning they had to be as conservative with their supplies as possible.

Past Fili's shoulder, just on the first steps of the winding stairs, the little girl appeared again. The faint sound of a baby crying rang out and the girl's head jerked around before she bounded off, running easily along the stairs until she vanished around the corner and was lost to sight.

"Lily," Bilba blurted.

Fili and Kili frowned at her before Fili said, "what?"

"Lily," Bilba repeated, with greater assurance. "That's what I'm going to name my daughter, if Thorin and I have one."

Both boys froze, the look in Kili's eyes stricken, and Bilba fought back a flinch. "What? Weren't you both big on the optimism front? I was just thinking..." she hesitated, before forging on, "if Thorin and I both made it..."

"It's not that," Kili cut in quickly. "It's just that-"

"Kili." Fili's voice was sharp. Kili snapped his mouth shut with an audible click of his jaw. Bilba's eyes immediately narrowed in suspicion.

"What?"

"Nothing," Fili said, a little too quick. "It's fine."

"It's clearly not fine," Bilba countered. "So why don't you just tell me already?"

Fili hesitated, and Bilba saw Kili give him another stricken look.

"It's just," Fili started finally, "we thought... back in Rivendell..."

He stopped and Kili, after a hesitation of his own, continued. "After you had Ash and Frerin... the elves..."

Memory crashed back in like a bucket of ice water dumped over her and Bilba sucked in a harsh breath. Her eyes went wide and the piece of bread she'd been holding in her hand tumbled to the dirt below. "I can't have more children," she whispered. "They said I can't have more. How could I have forgotten that?"

What's more, she thought with a growing sense of horror, had she ever told Thorin? Given him the chance to know that, if he tied himself to her, he'd be destined to lose her early, and without the chance of ever having another child?

"He won't care," Fili said, reading her mind the way he and Kili had both picked up over long hours spent entirely in one another's company. "You've already given him Ash and Frerin but, knowing him, he'd have been just as content had it only been you."

Kili nodded in sage agreement and Bilba forced a shaky smile. Fili handed her a new piece of bread they probably couldn't afford to use and she accepted it, mentally kicking herself for having dropped the first one.

They returned to silence after that. Fili and Kili did their whole entire silent communication thing while Bilba focused on the food in her hand and tried desperately to ignore the gaze of a little girl she'd never had, and never would.

This far in, the sun didn't rise past the thick layer of clouds, and whatever else, that lay over Mordor, so the only way they knew day had arrived was a vague lightening of their surroundings, as if they existed in a perpetual twilight.

They blindfolded her for the rest of the trip on the stairs. Bilba barely took a step out when her traitorous eyes looked, entirely on their own, at the drop immediately to her right.

The very, very long drop.

She'd frozen, so completely and entirely that Sauron himself could have come strolling down the path and she'd have been incapable of so much as taking a step to try and escape him.

It had been Fili who'd come up with the idea, knotting a handkerchief around her eyes and then guiding both her hands to wrap around his belt. He'd led the way, while Kili had come up so close behind her she could feel his feet occasionally clipping hers. They'd moved slowly, with Kili touching her arms and lightly guiding her around weak or broken patches. Twice, Kili pulled her away from Fili to lift her off her feet and hand her across to him on the other side of whatever opening in the rock they'd found.

The mere thought of the length of the drop they were lifting her over was enough to render her near catatonic again and Bilba knew dwelling on it for too long would incapacitate her just as readily, if a little slower.

So, she did her best to focus on something else, anything else. She thought about the Shire, her boys, Thorin, all her friends and family. She went back through the quest in her mind, trying to picture other ways things could have gone, for better or for worse.

She couldn't stop the images of the little girl, Lily, or the baby whose cry, or laughter, would echo through her mind. Sometimes they were with her in the Shire, other times in Erebor. Between memories of her sons and Thorin, she'd see ones she knew weren't real. Ash and Frerin playing with their father, Lily sitting on her father's lap at a council meeting, Fili carrying the baby about the same way he'd done with Frerin almost since the boy had been born.

Bilba didn't know where the images were coming from, or why, but after a while she decided to simply accept them. They were happy, and peaceful, and the hollowness of knowing two of the children she envisioned weren't real, and never would be, only came when she bothered to remember it.

Ahead of her, Fili came to a stop and then she felt Kili's hands reaching up to pull the blindfold off. Bilba blinked, and found herself looking at the opening of a large tunnel, several times bigger than the passageway they'd gone through, and far more foreboding. From where she stood she could hear the drip of water from inside and see slick puddles and wet patches on the walls and floors.

Her eyes caught on a suspicious looking substance clinging to one side of the tunnel opening and her heart dropped. "Please tell me that's not a spider web."

"That's not a spider web," Fili lied.

"Damn," Bilba whispered, in resignation. "I was really hoping to get through the rest of my life without seeing another one of those guys."

"Maybe we'll be in luck," Kili broke in, "and it'll only be one."

"We're never that lucky," Bilba muttered, remembering the swarms of spiders in Mirkwood with a shudder. She drew her sword, waiting as Fili drew his and Kili nocked an arrow to the string of his bow. "Let's get this over with quickly," she suggested. "Maybe we can get through without them noticing us."

Fili gave her a dry look. "What was that you were saying about luck?"

Bilba sighed and tightened her grip on the weapon. "Let's just get it over with then."

Fili nodded and the three of them slowly made their way inside. It was just as awful inside as it had promised outside: dark, dank and creepy. The farther they got from the entrance, the less light filtered through, until she was forced to rely entirely on Fili and Kili for guidance. At one point her mind went to the phial Galadriel had given her in Lothlorien but had, rather unhelpfully, never shown her how to use. She'd tried a time or two, as had the boys and even Thorin, but nothing had ever happened and she hadn't thought twice about leaving the useless item back in Gondor. She vaguely wished she hadn't now. It was unlikely she'd have been able to make it work but at least it'd have given her the false hope of trying.

"There's a torch over there," Kili suddenly hissed. "What do you think?"

Fili hesitated, only to stop suddenly as his foot connected with something on the ground and they heard a sharp clatter. Bilba looked down and, in the dim light that was left, bit back a whimper at the sight of bones scattered about the floor. Following some of them she slowly began to realize the floor was littered with bones, dozens upon dozens, everywhere she looked. Lifting her gaze, she spotted a tunnel leading away from them. It was hard to make out but she had the faint impression of objects hanging from the ceiling. She'd seen objects like that before, in Mirkwood hanging from the branches of trees.

"Get it," Fili ordered. "Spiders are afraid of fire, right? I'd rather be caught with it than risk running into them without."

Kili obeyed, and Fili pulled out his flint kit to light the thing. He carried it after that, allowing Kili to keep his hands free to keep his bow at the ready.

Looking back on it later, Bilba would wonder about the wisdom of taking that torch.

Certainly things would have gone much differently but would it have been for the better, or worse?

Either way, at the time, they'd taken the torch believing they would be facing a swarm of spiders like they'd seen in Mirkwood. There'd be no way to take them all on their own so having something that would allow them to drive the swarm back was vitally important.

So, to that end, Bilba could not fault the rationale.

They'd thought they knew what they would be facing.

They had been very, very wrong.

It was toward the end of their journey. There were many different tunnels and possible routes, so they'd done the best they could and chosen to avoid the openings that featured things hanging from the ceiling, or large piles of bones or other, foul smelling things. It seemed to work for, as they rounded a corner, Bilba spotted a pale light beckoning in the distance. She heaved a sigh of relief, something inside her easing at the thought they might have made it through without complication for once.

She really should have known better.

She was vaguely aware of a large shadow that seemed somehow blacker than the rest. A foul odor, like something rotting and dead, came from it and she instinctively shied away.

They almost made it.

They were almost past the shadow, eyes fixed on that glowing spot of light, when Bilba caught the flicker of movement from the corner of her eye. She turned, and stopped breathing.

The shadow, the entire shadow, was moving. Vaguely, she was aware of Fili and Kili stopping as well. Fili swore and placed himself in front of her, followed a second later by Kili.

In the flickering light of the torch the thing unfurled, and Bilba bit back a whimper as she found herself looking at the biggest spider she'd ever seen.

Clearly, her mind hysterically informed her, Things in Middle Earth That Want to Eat You was going to need an update.

Fili backed up as the thing loomed over them, venom dripping from monstrous fangs. It was so big, and so close, it blocked out the entire world. Eyes so large she could see her reflection mirrored in a thousand facets glittered at her with a cold light.

"Run!" Fili ordered, physically shoving her back as he raised his sword. Next to him, Kili loosed an arrow that struck the thing right in one of its eyes. The creature screeched and skittered back, but didn't retreat.

"Run!" Fili ordered again.

Bilba shook her head, feet rooted to the floor. She was finding it impossible to take deep breaths and her body was shaking so violently she could hardly stand upright. "I can't!"

The spider came forward again, only to dodge back once more as Fili swiped at it with the torch. It didn't like fire but it was clear the small torch was never going to hold it back for long.

Fili swore, turned to grab her arm and physically shoved her, hard enough to send her to the floor several feet away. "You have to," he growled. "Go! We'll hold it off!"

And find you after, Bilba thought, desperately wanting him to say the words.

Fili turned back, and lunged forward at the creature. Kili fell to one knee, nocking another arrow to the string.

Bilba let out a sound that was nearly a sob, and ran.

She didn't look back, too terrified of what she might see. Her breathing was harsh in her lungs and she bit back a near scream of fear as the spider shrieked again behind her. There was no way to know if Fili and Kili were still holding it, or if...

She stumbled, tripping over an uneven patch in the rock. Pain spiked through her knees and hands as she caught herself and then she was pushing up again, nearly throwing herself at the opening.

That proved to be a mistake.

She was so blinded by panic, Bilba completely failed to see that the light was hazy and dull because the entire opening was covered in thick layers of spider webs.

She ran full into them, and let out a near scream of frustration as her sword was ripped from her hands by the sticky strands. The web wrapped around her, bringing back flashbacks of Mirkwood. The sheer terror of that thing behind her had her tearing at the strands in a blind panic, ripping chunks and pieces off and fighting so hard to move forward she felt several sharp stabs of pain as muscles, tendons and ligaments protested the reckless movement.

Suddenly, the last strands gave way and then she was falling, hitting a rocky slope hard enough to knock the wind from her, and rolling. She came to a stop mere inches from a gap in the rock, and curled in on herself, gasping for breath and near sobbing from fear.

She didn't know how long she lay there.

Long enough to realize the spider didn't seem to be coming.

And neither was Fili or Kili.

"I can't," she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut as fresh tears threatened. "I can't do it. Not by myself."

Then your friends fight for nothing.

Bilba flinched. It had been a long time since she had heard that voice inside her head. She'd grown used to it, and long ago stopped questioning it. It had guided her to the Rangers all those years ago, shouted at her to call her friends when she thought them long gone.

Glorfindel's face flashed through her mind as he faced off against his worst fear in Moria, and then Gandalf as he led the way toward Rohan. Aragorn as he, even then, fought to save Gondor, and Thorin who struggled to ensure the survival of a kingdom he'd nearly died to reclaim.

And, of course, Adalgrim who, all things considered, shouldn't have been there in the first place but had come anyway, wishing to do his part to save his home and family.

The others flashed through, people who'd gone with her and those she'd left behind, all doing their part.

All expecting her to do hers.

Bilba opened her eyes.

A hand was stretched out in front of her face and for one, wildly irrational, moment she thought it was Thorin, arriving as he always did at the very moment she needed him most.

Then reality set in and she realized the hand was much too slender and, past it, were a small set of boots and trousers and a tiny blue jacket.

She raised her eyes, and saw tumbling brown hair falling over the shoulders of a girl with her father's eyes.

"You are not real," she whispered, and got a bright smile in response.

The hand was still there and, not knowing why, Bilba reached out. The grip felt surprisingly real, a fact she chose not to think about, and she didn't resist the tug as she was pulled up.

She blinked, and then she was on her feet...and alone.

The memory of the voice, with her longer than almost anyone she knew, ran through her mind again and something inside her settled, just a little.

Perhaps not so very alone after all.

She risked a glance back, but the way behind her was empty. She still wore Fili's jacket and clutched it around her, knowing full well the boys would demand that she keep moving if they were there. Her minds went to her friends again, her loved ones, and her infant sons who deserved a chance to grow up. There was too much at stake too many people relying on her for her to sit and wait for people who might...she swallowed hard, shut her eyes a second and forced herself to take a deep breath.

No, she told herself firmly. Fili and Kili were coming. She'd start, and they'd catch up with her.

With that conviction in mind, she fixed her eyes ahead of her, and started walking.

The gap in the rocks she'd landed near was narrow, thankfully, and she was able to hop over it without having to look down to see how deep it went. She moved slowly along the path after that, not wanting to go too fast until Fili and Kili caught up.

Rocks tumbled to the ground in front of her and she stopped with a frown. The path she walked led through a narrow gully, a fact she'd been grateful for as it meant she didn't have to see how very high she undoubtedly was. Now, however, she realized it left her at an entirely new risk, nowhere to go in the event of rocks falling.

She glanced up, but saw nothing so, after a second, she started to walk again. After only a few steps an odd skittering sound drew her gaze upwards again but, still, she saw nothing.

She hesitated and increased her speed, though not by much as she was still desperately hoping for Fili and Kili to catch up to her. The thought of one or both being hurt, and stuck alone because she was moving too fast, was haunting.

Ahead of her, the path widened into a wide bowl-shaped area with sheer rock rising around her. On the far side, the path resumed, passing under a large archway of rock but, thankfully, remaining open overhead. Bilba very much did not want to find herself facing another tunnel again, if ever.

She hurried forward, a strong feeling of unease overcoming her at being so exposed. She'd just reached the opening when a shadow crossed the sun overhead, darkening her path.

Bilba stopped.

There were clouds overhead, her mind informed her.

There was no sun, so then what-

"Look out!"

A heavy body slammed into hers, sending her flying. Bilba hit the ground hard, pain ricocheting through her body as she landed on her side.

She pushed up and looked behind her, just in time to see the spider, hanging from the archway, drive a stinger that looked to be bigger than her arm, straight into Fili's back.

Fili's back arched, eyes going wide with shock.

"Fili!" Bilba screamed, scrambling to her feet.

For a second Fili's eyes locked with hers. Then they rolled back and he slumped to the ground with a boneless thud.

And then the only one left was her.

And the spider.