For two days, dark clouds hung in the sky above as the travelers trekked north, occasionally dusting them in a thin layer of powdery snow. What few plants and animals they had seen during their first day of walking quickly disappeared; aside from each other, the only life to be found were a handful of small birds that they had seen on the morning of their third day. But of that handful, none were large enough to be considered a snack, let alone an entire meal. They did have water at the very least, as they continued to use the river as their guide.

There was little hope of any kind to be found in the group. Even as they came to rest atop a hill and found themselves looking down at the ruins of Dale and the path leading to the mountain, they felt more dread than anything. At the pace they had been going, they would reach Dale by nightfall and then the Lonely Mountain by midmorning—a half day in total.

Just half a day until they would discover whether their friends and family had somehow survived Smaug's rage or if they were now just memories.

'Valar, please let the people of Laketown be faring better than us,' Baylee thought as she sat atop a rock, staring at the distant gates. 'Let Thranduil have come to their aid…' Her brows furrowed as she was suddenly pulled from her thoughts by a hand coming to rest on her shoulder. Looking over, she saw that Fili was sitting beside her, concern on his face.

"You shouldn't go without blinking like that for too long," he told her. "Not in this cold."

"I didn't realize I hadn't been blinking." As she closed her eyes, her nose scrunched up ever so slightly; the sudden reintroduction of moisture to her eyes made them sting. "Thank you for letting me know, though."

He let out a small, halfhearted chuckle. "We don't need your good eye freezing over." Then, sighing, he looked up at the sky. "We should get moving. It's going to snow again soon."

She nodded in agreement. "The quicker we reach Dale, the better."

"Aye…we'll finally have some cover from the weather. Might even be able to build a fire if there's any bits of furniture left."

At the thought of sitting beside a warm fire and chasing the chill from her bones, Baylee shivered. "That would be nice," she murmured, though she didn't want to get her hopes up. Not when the city had sat for so long and had probably been subjected to looting while Smaug slept. Whether they had fire or not, she knew she could, at least, look forward to having some sort of roof over their heads that night.

With a heavy sigh, Fili forced himself to stand up before turning to look at the others. Bofur was sitting on the ground, his eyes closed as he idly used his fingers to comb through his hair; Oin stood beside Kili, his arms crossed over his chest as he glanced between Erebor and Dale; and Kili was tiredly sprawled out overtop one of the rocks, his arms outstretched to either side. He was reluctant to make them move, but knew he had to get them up if they wanted to reach Dale by nightfall.

"Let's get going," he said after a moment. "It's going t' start snowing soon."

A small groan of protest left Bofur's mouth, but he nodded and, abandoning the combing of his hair, he pushed himself to his feet before helping Oin pull Kili into an upright sitting position. "C'mon, lad. You can rest when we get t' Dale."

"I know," Kili murmured as he stood up. He rubbed the side of his leg; it was no longer filled with the heat and sharp pain of infection, which was a great relief. What wasn't so great was the dull ache that had taken the place of the sharp pain.

Fili glanced over his shoulder in time to see Baylee wince as she slipped down off the rock to stand up. "How's your hip?" He knew all the walking couldn't be doing it much good.

"It hurts," she admitted as she brushed off her backside, "but not enough that I can't walk."

"I can carry you for a while, if you'd like," he offered. "It'd be no trouble, honest."

His offer brought a small smile to her lips, but she lightly shook her head. "I'm fine for now, Fili," she replied, "but thank you for the offer, Fili. I might take you up on it in a few hours, though."

When they arrived that evening, the ruins of Dale greeted them with silence. The snow was falling heavily, adding a fresh layer to the snow that already blanketed the streets, hiding whatever rubble there was from view and giving the place an almost peaceful atmosphere. After nearly half an hour of searching, the group of five finally sought shelter in one of the city's belltowers; it wasn't the biggest of spaces, but it wouldn't take long for a fire to warm up or allow any heat to escape.

With shelter found, Fili and Bofur went in search of burnable materials in the nearby buildings while Oin, Baylee, and Kili stayed behind to clear out a space for them to rest. The ground level had little in the way of furniture, but what pieces there were left had become dry and brittle with age. Kili and Oin easily broke the furniture down into scraps that they then piled into a brazier while Baylee explored the upper floors in search of more fuel or anything that could be of use to them.

By the time Fili and Bofur came back, their arms laden with scraps of tables and chairs and shelves, Oin had a fire going in the brazier and the room was pleasantly warm. It was so warm, in fact, that they were able to remove the outer layers of their clothes and hang them near the fire to dry off. But though their spirits were raised by the warmth, they were quickly dampened again when their stomachs reminded them of just how hungry they were. None of them complained, however—they had gone far longer without food when they were lost in Mirkwood.

Fili had intended to speak with his companions about what they should do the next day upon reaching Erebor, but as he got settled in his spot against the wall, he could feel himself already starting to drift to sleep. As his eyelids started to droop, he glanced at the others only to find them starting to drift off as well. Though their situation wasn't perfect, they were safe and warm for the time being and that brought a sleepy smile to his lips.

The snow was a foot deeper when they left the next morning, making walking slow and difficult. Fili went ahead of the others, using what had once been the shaft of a spear to help him clear a path for the others. Kili followed behind him, his bow and an arrow at the ready should he see any target worth hitting. Oin was third in line and Bofur, who was carrying Baylee on his shoulders, took up the rear.

"I don't remember the last time I've seen so much snow," Bofur sighed. He tilted his head back slightly to look up at the mountain only to squint against the brightness of the snow. "The Blue Mountains never got this much…"

"The Shire doesn't get much, either," Baylee said. "At least, not Hobbiton—our winters are fairly wet. The North Farthing has been known to get a foot or two, though." An ache came to her heart as she thought about the Shire and how she would usually spend the winter cozied up to a window, wrapped up in a fluffy blanket and reading a good book. Or how, when it did snow, she and Bilbo would get all bundled up and go atop Bag End to make snowhobbits…Feeling her eyes beginning to sting, she closed them, doing her best to hold back the tears.

"When we were young lads, Bifur had made me an' Bombur a sledge for when it snowed." A quiet chuckle left Bofur's mouth. "We'd take it up t' the tallest hills we could find just t' slide right back down again in only a minute or two. When Bombur started gettin' rounder, I'd stick him on the front o' the thing because his weight made us go faster." He paused for a few seconds, his brows furrowing slightly. "'Course, that also made it harder t' steer. There were plenty o' times we'd flip over an' tumble the rest o' the way down the hill or get tangled up in the sledge's runners…"

Though the ache was still in her chest and her eyes still stung, Baylee couldn't help but giggle at the mental image she now had. "I hope neither of you got hurt whenever that happened."

"Ah, nothin' worse than a few bumps an' bruises. Though, there was one time when Bombur started rollin' down the hill an' couldn't stop himself. By the time he reached the bottom, he had gathered up so much snow, only his head an' his legs were stickin' out. He made me think o' a turtle, stuck on its back an' kickin' its legs about." Though he knew he wouldn't be able to see her, he glanced upwards when he heard her giggle again and smiled—it was the first bit of laughter he had heard from her in almost a week. "Have you ever been on a sledge, lass?"

"I think I have been, but when I was very little…I have a vague memory of my Grandma Belladonna holding onto me as we slid down the back of Bag End."

"Oh, aye, Bag End would be a wonderful hill t' go sleddin' down! Though, you'll have t' be careful how you steer, lest you end up slidin' right through your da's vegetable garden." Upon mentioning Bilbo, Bofur's smile slowly faded into a concerned frown as he was forced to remember that his lover's fate was still unknown to him. He fell silent, his gaze dropping to the ground.

Baylee, too, went quiet. She wondered if she would ever see Bag End again, let alone get the chance to go sledding down it. She also wondered if her father would ever get the chance to see their home and his little vegetable garden again. He had always been so proud of that garden of his and how much produce they could harvest from it.

'I don't know if I could go back there without him,' she thought, clenching her eyes shut when they began to sting anew. 'I don't know if I could even call it 'home' anymore…'

Slowed by the snow, the group didn't reach the gates of Erebor until midafternoon; the whole while, they were watched by the sightless eyes belonging to a pair of enormous dwarves carved from the mountain itself. Both were crouched with their axes in hand and both were thrice as tall as any tree Baylee had seen in her life.

The gate was much smaller than they anticipated. From afar, it looked as if it stood hundreds of feet tall, but in reality, the gate itself was only about fifty feet tall. What had made it look so large was that a large portion of the wall above the entrance had been torn away, leaving large boulders strewn across the way.

Tentatively, they stepped past the gate and began to walk into the mountain. It took a few moments for their eyes to adjust to the change in brightness, but when they had grown accustomed to it, they found themselves surrounded by green marble. Veins of gold and quartz ran throughout the stone, glittering if they caught even the slightest bit of light.

Before them, dozens and dozens of enormous pillars stretched for hundreds of feet upwards, where they disappeared into the darkness. In the distance, silhouettes of wide staircases leading upwards to the mountain's peak and leading downwards to the mountain's roots could just barely be made out. Large braziers twice the size of Bag End's door hung above them, the lights that once welcomed visitors long-extinguished.

"Everything's so…so big," Baylee murmured, her eyes wide as she tried to take it all in.

"This makes the halls back home look tiny," Fili said, his voice filled with awe. He and Kili had often heard of Erebor's splendor and massive size thanks to the tales told to them by Balin and Thorin, but nothing they had ever imagined could compare to what they were seeing now.

"It doesn't look like orcs have been anywhere near here," Kili commented, his brows furrowed slightly as he looked at the bits of rubble around them. He then made the mistake of looking down at the floor, where he could see dwarvish armor laying in scattered heaps; he knew that, beneath the armor were the bones of the soldiers who had died trying to protect Erebor. "Nothing's been defiled—at least, not in an orcish fashion."

After setting Baylee on the ground, Bofur cupped his hands around his mouth and called out, "Hello! Bombur? Bifur?" His voice echoed around them, growing quieter as it got further and further away. "Anybody?"

They waited a few moments, all of them doing their best to listen for any sort of reply. When none came, Fili started to lead them further into the city; not wanting them to get lost, he led them in a straight line. Every few hundred yards, they would pause and call out, hoping to hear some reply, but none came.

They weren't quite sure how, but even as they went deeper into the mountain, there was still enough light for them to see. It was a cool light that wasn't too bright, nor too dark, but it made the group wonder just where in the world it was coming from. Baylee wondered if, perhaps, the light was made by the mountain itself.

Eventually, they found themselves going down a set of stairs that wound their way down one of the city's enormous columns. Fili paused part way down so that they could take a small break; he wasn't sure how far into the mountain they were at that point. It had felt like they had been walking for days, but he knew it had only been a couple of hours at most.

With little hope of getting a reply, he walked over to the railing and desperately shouted out, "Is anyone out there?"

A moment passed with just his echo filling their ears. But, then, from somewhere in the distance:

"Hello?"

Hearing the voice, Baylee's eyes shot open and she jumped to her feet, hurrying to Fili's side. Mustering the biggest voice her little body could manage, she yelled. "Da'? Da', is that you?"

Another moment of echoes passed and, then, "Baylee! Stay there—I'm coming!"

Closing her eyes, Baylee concentrated on her father's voice and where it sounded like the echoes were stemming from.

The others were now at the railing. "Bilbo! You're alive!" Bofur cried, a relieved laugh leaving his mouth as well. "What about the others?"

"Just—Just stay there!" His voice was a bit closer now.

"Is uncle alright?" Kili called out.

"Please, just be patient!" He sounded a bit exasperated at this point. "I'll be there soon!"

Baylee pointed at a walkway a few levels down. "He's somewhere down there," she told the others.

Their exhaustion was suddenly gone, replaced by joy and hope. Without hesitation, the group hurried away from the spot, not wanting to wait any longer to see Bilbo and get news of the others. Down two more flights of stairs and across a bridge they ran, hoping they would soon see their friends and loved ones.

Without warning, Bilbo emerged from one of the halls, waving his arms at them. "Wait!" he cried, seeing the others running towards him. "Wait! Stop, stop, stop!"

The group, confused by his words, slowed their pace until they came to a stop a few yards away from him—save for Baylee, who continued to run forward before throwing her arms around her father. Allowing himself a moment to comfort his daughter, Bilbo closed his eyes and let out a shaky sigh before kissing the top of her head.

"I was scared I lost you," she choked out, her words muffled by his shoulder. Tears were already rolling down her cheeks and soaking into his coat.

"And I was scared that I had lost you," he murmured, giving her a gentle squeeze. "You have no idea how relieved I am to see that you're safe." As much as he hated to, he loosened his hold on her and gently pushed her back; his heart hurt to see the confusion that had come to Baylee's face as he did such. "But to stay safe, you need to leave. We all need to leave."

"We need to what?" Kili gawked.

"Leave?! We can't just leave—we only just got here!" Oin protested.

Fili stepped forward, his brows furrowed. "Bilbo, what's going on? Is something wrong?"

Bilbo nodded. "Y-yes. I've-I've tried talking to him, but he won't listen—"

"What do you mean?" Bofur questioned. "Who won't listen?"

"Thorin!" Bilbo cried, making them jump in surprise. Clearing his throat, he gave them a bit of an apologetic look, but continued. "Thorin. It's Thorin. He's been out there for days. He hasn't slept, he barely eats—He's not been himself." As he spoke, he failed to notice when Fili looked past him, his brows furrowing in concentration. "He's not been himself at all. It's this—it's this place. I'm sure of it. I think a sickness lies on it."

Baylee felt her stomach drop and the color drained from her face, though no one noticed.

"Sickness? What kind of sickness?" Kili demanded, his eyes widening in horror.

Before Bilbo could answer, Fili rushed past him. "Fili, no! Fili, come back!" Turning, he chased after the prince, the others quickly following suit. "Fili!"

As they went deeper into the mountain, the cool light began to fade away only to be replaced by a soft, golden glow. Baylee swallowed hard; she had an idea of where the light was coming from, but how it was being made, she didn't know. With her gleeful emotions gone, the pain in her hip became quite noticeable and, pressing her hand against her hip, she slowed her pace. The others got further and further away before disappearing entirely from her sight when they rounded a bend.

'It's said that the greed of dragons runs so deep, that any treasure they hoard becomes cursed…dwarves are especially susceptible to its effects. They call it Dragon Sickness.'

Shaking her head, she tried to drive Bard's words from her mind. She tried to be hopeful, that it wasn't Dragon Sickness Thorin had—that, by some strange occurrence, he just had a bad cold or severe allergies or something normal and harmless.

'Even before Smaug attacked, it was rumored that the line of Durin had been infected by this sickness…'

"Please, Mahal," she whispered, using her free hand to wipe the tears from her face. "Please, don't let it be Dragon Sickness…"

When she finally rounded the corner, she found the others standing on the landing below in shocked silence. Looking past them, she could see why: Gold. Mountains and mountains of gold stretching for as far as the eye could see. As she slowly walked down the steps and was better able to see the treasure, she found the slopes of the golden mountains were made up of coins and were dotted with what could only be enormous precious gems. She also discovered that it was from here that the light was being emitted, though it was impossible to tell if it came from the treasure itself or from the massive, lit braziers placed every hundred yards or so.

The sound of coins shifting caught their attention and, when they looked down, they saw a figure slowly walking across a thin ribbon of bare floor. "Gold—gold beyond measure." The voice, though quiet, echoed up to them, letting them hear every word. "Beyond sorrow and grief…"

Pausing in his steps, the figure turned and looked up at them: Thorin. He was robed in fine furs and embossed leathers befitting his role of king and, from where they stood, he looked to be in good health. Not the least bit sick as Bilbo had claimed.

"Behold," he said to them, voice still quiet as he reached down and plucked something up from the ground. "The great treasure hoard of Thror." Throwing whatever he had picked up at them, he watched as Fili caught it; the prince's eyes widened in awe.

It was a ruby the size of his palm.

"Welcome, my sister-sons," Thorin then cried, his arms thrown out to his sides and a grin on his lips, "to the kingdom of Erebor!" The sound of his voice bounced off the pillars and piles of treasure, making it sound as if he were everywhere at once. "Come, my friends, and let me see your weary faces. Your journey here must've left you exhausted."

Hesitantly, the group made their way down the last of the steps, meeting Thorin at the bottom. Baylee bit her tongue as she watched him greet first his nephews then Bofur and Oin; there was a broad smile on his face as he embraced them and spoke words of joy to them. By all means, he looked fine.

Maybe Bilbo had been wrong…?

Finally, he turned to the hobbit lass and his expression grew tender. "Baylee," he said, voice quieter.

Despite feeling uncertain of the situation, she couldn't stop herself from still being happy to find him alive. She ignored the pain in her hip and limped a few steps forward before all but throwing herself at him. He easily caught her and held her against him for a long moment, simply relishing in having his beloved Mouse-Lass back. His embrace, though, did little to chase away her fear and anxiety.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pressed her lips against his, the intensity of the kiss betraying just how worried she had been about him. He returned the kiss and his hand came to rest on the back of her head. His touch was still as gentle and as warm as ever and, for a moment, she began to doubt her father's words.

She ended the kiss after a moment and leaned her forehead against his. "I'm glad you're safe, Oakenshield," she murmured, a small smile on her lips.

"And I'm glad you're safe, Mouse-Lass," he quietly replied. "Maralmizun, 'ibinê abnâmul." It was hard to tell, but as he spoke in Khuzdul, it almost seemed like his voice took on an air of possessiveness.

Baylee ignored that for now, though, telling herself she was just hearing things. "I love you, too," she murmured, raising her hand and resting it on his cheek. But it was as she looked into his eyes, hoping to find love and comfort in their blue depths, she saw it: A glaze of gold now covered his eyes.

He was taken by Dragon Sickness.

A/N:

And now we've finally reached what are going to be the hardest chapters for me to write, especially after I went back and read some of the more tender moments between Baylee and Thorin. Even when I was still in just the beginning chapters, this was the part of the story I dreaded most because of all the negative emotions that were going to be involved...And I can't even go write some fluff on my other two fics to make me feel better because neither are at fluffy points. Dammit.