A warning: As we all know, the Dragon Sickness turns Thorin into a completely different person. Because of this, I wanted to warn you, my lovely readers, that he is going to become very possessive and he will be saying very controlling and potentially abusive things to people over the next few chapters just in case such things are a trigger for you.

"Is that too tight, lass? If need be, I can loosen it up a wee bit."

"N-no, it's fine. Thank you, Dori."

"Good, good…I'll just need t' do a few quick stitches then, so try not to wiggle too much."

"Alright." Baylee bit her lower lip as she stood atop the stool, trying to stay as still as possible so that Dori wouldn't accidentally prick himself—or her—with the needle. "Are there many more layers to put on, or is this it?"

"After this, it's just the belt, your cloak, and a few bits of jewelry here and there that're left," he answered, letting out a soft chuckle. "I must say, I didn't expect these colors t' look so nice on you," he said, his eyes focused on the stitches he was doing. "After having seen you only in yellows, greens, an' browns, I didn't think lilac and bluebottle would suit you. But, as it turns out, they're very pretty on you."

She looked down at herself; she was no longer wearing the clothes given to her by Tilda, but instead wore a dwarven dress set that Thorin had chosen for her. As his soon-to-be queen, he had said, she should be dressed in silks and velvets. Not the clothes of common people. "I didn't expect them to look very nice, either," she agreed. "Nor did I expect it to be so heavy."

Dori quietly laughed once more. "Given that it is winter and you're such a tiny thing," he told her, "Thorin wanted to make sure you stayed warm. But, t' be honest, I'm still surprised that Lady Dís was so close to you in height when she dwelt here." Tying off the final stitch, he grabbed a small pair of sewing snips and cut the thread. "There—all done."

He stood up, taking a few steps backwards while Baylee carefully turned around to face him. A proud grin came to his lips as he admired his handiwork. Both the silk chemise and velvet gown she wore had started off being much too wide for her extra-petite frame, but with a great deal of fabric removal, some well-placed stitches, and a bit of hemming, they now fit her like a glove. Her hair had already been pulled back, with the upper half braided and twisted into a bun while the rest hung loose around her shoulders.

If she just had a bit of facial hair, he could have easily mistaken her for a small dwarf.

"Thank you again for helping me with all of this," she said, watching as he went over and retrieved a belt from the back of a chair.

"No need to thank me, Miss Baylee," he assured her. "If anythin', I should be thanking you."

Her brows furrowed. "Why do you say that?" As he came back, she could see that the belt was encrusted with soft, pink gems.

"Because, by helpin' you, I get to avoid searching for the Arkenstone," he replied, quieting his voice as if he were afraid to be heard. Carefully, he wrapped the belt around her waist before tying it into place behind her. "Thorin's had us digging through all of that treasure for it ever since Smaug flew off."

She bit her lower lip again. "He has…?" She knew Thorin had wanted the Arkenstone, but she didn't know he wanted it that badly.

"Mhm. I can't say that I entirely blame him, though—it is the symbol o' the line o' Durin and o' Erebor itself." He crossed the room again, this time picking up a velvet cloak lined with fur. "But, it's nothing to worry about, I'm sure," he then said, his tone becoming a bit perkier. "Once it's found, all will be well again an' we'll get t' work on filling these halls with dwarves again." Bringing the cloak around her from behind, he started to adjust the way it sat on her shoulders.

"I only hope he remembers his promise to the people of Laketown," she sighed. "I'm sure they'll be arriving any day now and they badly need the help."

"Thorin is a dwarf of his word, Miss Baylee," he assured her with a small laugh. There was something about his voice, though, that made Baylee think he didn't entirely believe his own words. "He will help the people survive the winter and rebuild their homes." Pulling something from his pocket, she saw that it was a blue gemstone cut in such a way that its back had two holes that held a metal pin, thus turning it into a cloak pin. After getting one side of her cloak pinned into place, he pulled a second, matching stone from his pocket to do the same on the other side.

Though she inwardly didn't believe him, she managed a small smile. "You're right," she said. "Thorin is a dwarf of his word and, unless he'd like another scolding from me, he'll make sure to help them as much as he can."

"Exactly," Dori said, smiling, but again, it almost sounded like he didn't believe himself. He finished pinning the cloak into place before going over to the vanity table once more. "An' even if he wasn't the sort t' keep his word, you're the type o' lass who'd make sure he keeps it, lest he wants a severe scolding."

She quietly chuckled. "If ever I needed to scold him again, I'd have to make sure there was a stool or chair nearby in order to properly wag my finger at him." When Dori returned, she saw that he held a wooden tray lined with black velvet; on it lay an assortment of jewelry. "Am I going to be wearing all of that?" she questioned, brows furrowing. All of the jewelry, she noticed, seemed to have some sort of floral motif to it.

Her heart ached a bit as she remembered the sunflower necklace Thorin had given her in Laketown. She, at first, thought she had lost it during the chaos of Smaug's attack—that it might've fallen off when she took the tumble that left her with her hip injury. But, as Kili had pointed out, necklaces didn't just fall off at random and that it had, more than likely, been stolen by either the Master or by Alfrid while she was unconscious.

"Oh, Mahal, no! This is just a small selection for you t' pick from," he explained. "You can wear as much or as little as you like, so long as you wear some o' it."

Her head tilted in curiosity. "Why do I have to wear some of it?"

"Thorin requested I make sure you wear some." As she glanced up at him, she could see some nervousness in his eyes and it was then she knew for certain that he was putting on a façade to make sure she thought all was well with Thorin. "Your outfit wouldn't be complete without a bit o' jewelry, after all."

Nodding slowly, she looked back down at the tray. "I don't think any of these rings would fit me, so those are a no…But this necklace looks rather pretty." She picked up a flower charm that was in the middle of four, thin ropes of pearls. As she lifted it, however, a silver band rose up with it and she could see that it was attached to the other end of the pearls.

"That is actually a headpiece," he corrected, a small, relieved smile on his lips, "and I think that's a lovely choice. It has quite an understated elegance to it. Is there anythin' else that catches your fancy?"

"Well, it's all very pretty," she told him, "but I'm not entirely sure what else would work. What do you think?"

A contemplative expression came to his face as he looked between her and the tray of jewelry for a moment. "Let's get this headpiece on you and then we'll have you try on a few ear cuffs…"

Half of an hour passed before Dori finally declared Baylee ready to be presented to Thorin and the others. In the end, they had gone with little in the way of jewelry: Just the headpiece, a few ear cuffs, and some pearl hairpins tucked into her braided bun. He now led her towards the treasury, knowing that was the most likely place he would find Thorin.

Following along behind him, Baylee let out a nearly-silent sigh. It was a bit of a challenge, walking in the dwarven gown and cloak, and it was made even more so with her injured hip. She wasn't at all used to wearing anything that went below her shins and, despite the quick hemming work Dori had done, her toes occasionally caught the end of the dress and she would almost stumble. The cloak, on the other hand, was simply heavy, its weight forcing her into a more upright position.

There was one good thing about her outfit, though, and that was the fact it was warm. For the first time in days, she found that she didn't have even the tiniest bit of a chill.

"Ah, there you two are." Bilbo stepped out from behind a pillar. "I've been wondering when you two would be fin—" He then paused, his head tilting slightly when he saw his daughter dressed in the dwarvish finery. A small chuckle escaped his mouth. "Well, well, well…it looks like we've got ourselves a beardless dwarf dame here now," he lightly teased.

Dori laughed. "I said nearly the same thing," he told him. "And I'm sure, once folk are back in the mountain, Thorin will have her lookin' even more like a dwarrow dame." He hooked his thumbs in the belt loop of his tunic. "Speakin' o' Thorin, have you seen him, lad? I'm sure he's gettin' rather eager t' see his lass."

"O-oh, yes, I have," Bilbo said, giving the dwarf a small nod. "But I'll take her to him; I'd like to have a word with her first."

Baylee watched as the two males exchanged knowing looks and her brows furrowed slightly. What was going on…?

"I think that sounds doable," Dori replied. "And it gives me a bit o' a chance t' nip off and have myself a snack and a sit-down."

"You deserve both of those after spending most of the day helping me," Baylee told him, giving him a thankful smile. "If anyone looks for you, I'll tell them you're not to be disturbed for a few hours." She knew that, otherwise, Thorin would probably have him searching for the Arkenstone without letting him have a chance to rest.

He let out a small chuckle and nodded in understanding. "I greatly appreciate that, Miss Baylee." Giving them a small nod, he turned and started to head off.

She turned towards her father. "What did you want to have a word with me about?" she questioned, caution in her voice. "Is it about Thorin?"

"No, actually…it's about you, dear." Clasping his hands behind his back, he started to walk with her.

"About me?"

"Yes." A sigh left his mouth and he tilted his head back, as if trying to see the ceiling hidden above them when he was, in fact, trying to think of how best to go about speaking with her. While he managed to appear composed, inwardly, his insides were a jumble of nervousness. "I need you to make a promise to me."

Her brows furrowed in confusion. "A…promise?"

"Yes."

"What sort of promise?"

"Well, it's, uh…" He frowned, realizing he didn't quite know how to describe it. "I guess you could say it's a sort of uh—a sort of self-preservation promise."

Still confused, Baylee bit her tongue. "And that would be…?"

"I need you to promise me that, no matter what, you'll do whatever it takes to stay safe."

She stopped in her tracks, staring at him. "…Da'?"

Stopping as well, he turned and set his hands on her shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze. "We both know things aren't going well," he elaborated, keeping his voice soft so it wouldn't carry. "In fact, I'd say they're quite terrible at the moment, given that Thorin is being driven into madness by his need for the Arkenstone. But even if it was found, I'm not sure it would do him any good. The longer he's down there with all th-that—that dragon-touched gold, his temper grows shorter while his greed grows bigger."

"I know," she murmured, her eyes closing partway as her gaze fell to the floor. "I don't think there's any way we can stop the Dragon Sickness from getting worse, either."

Bilbo was silent for a moment as he debated whether he should tell Baylee of how he had already found the Arkenstone and wanted to keep it away from Thorin or if he should keep that information to himself. If he told her and something happened to him, Thorin could think she was in on the conspiracy and, if that were to happen…Well, he didn't want to even begin to think about what sort of rage the dwarf could fly into. But he also knew that, should he attempt to do something like run away, Baylee would worry about him far too much and might even try to go after him.

In the end, he decided to give her a vague warning. "There might be a way to stop the Dragon Sickness," he told her, wanting to give her hope. "I have an idea, but I can't tell you much just in case Thorin finds out and gets upset with me. But, I needed to give you a warning that it may involve me having to leave for a little while."

"You're going to go look for Gandalf, aren't you?"

Bilbo blinked in surprise; it wasn't terribly close to what he had been thinking of doing—which was simply getting the Arkenstone as far from the mountain as possible. However, it would work for a good cover story should things get messy. "H-how did you—?"

"Gandalf's a wizard," she said, "so he should know of a way to help Thorin. But he didn't meet us here like he was supposed to. So it'd only make sense for you to go looking for him."

"You always were a smart girl, dear," he quietly chuckled, giving her shoulders another squeeze. "Yes, I may need to go out and find Gandalf. I can't take you with me, though—Not with your hip being like it is. But with Thorin being the way he is and how he's getting worse…" He shook his head, driving the thought from his mind. "With things as they are, I need you to make that promise for me: Promise me that you'll do whatever you can to stay safe while I'm gone."

She slowly nodded, though her stomach continued to churn. "I promise, da'," she quietly said, "but only if you promise to be as safe as possible, too."

Her words brought a small smile to his lips, though it slowly faded when he looked down at her; she looked so different from the carefree hobbit lass he had left the Shire with. Just half a year ago, there would hardly be a time when he didn't see a smile on her lips, but now, her smile was a rare thing to behold. Even then, it didn't reach her eyes, which seemed to always be full of uncertainty and fear these days.

Bilbo wished, now more than ever, that he had been firmer with her and made her return to Bag End. They had started this journey completely ignorant of the evils that lurked outside the Shire and now, they were all too familiar with them. Yes, there had been moments of peace on the road and they had even managed to find love along the way. But those joys were vastly outweighed by the pain and suffering they had gone through—that they were still going through.

If he had just made her stay home, she would still be his carefree little girl.

"I promise," he finally said, wrapping his arms around her and bringing her into a hug. He kissed the top of her head, tears slipping down his cheeks as he closed his eyes and held her against him. "I promise I'll do my best to stay safe, dear."

"Good." Her voice was quiet and muffled thanks to his coat, but neither cared as she hugged on to him in return.

For many minutes, they stood there in silence, simply continuing to hug each other. Both knew, however, that Thorin was waiting to see Baylee and that he was surely getting impatient by now. Bilbo reluctantly leaned back only to find that her cheeks were wet with tears.

Cupping her face in his hands, he used his thumbs to try and wipe some of them away. "No more tears, dear," he told her, his voice soft. He managed to bring a reassuring smile to his lips as he looked down at her. "We'll get through this, I promise."

Baylee nodded, unable to speak at the moment due to a sob being stuck in her throat.

"Now. Let's get you down to Thorin, shall we?" Releasing her face, he moved to stand beside her. "I just know he's going to think you look beautiful in this dress."

Leading her down to the treasury, Bilbo felt his insides beginning to twist anew when they saw Thorin standing on the landing below. Beyond him, they could see the other members of the company dotted about the room as they continued in their impossible search for the Arkenstone. As he and Baylee started down the stairs, he glanced down at her; her tears were gone and she was managing to look as calm as ever.

When they were just a few steps from the landing, he cleared his throat to catch Thorin's attention. "Thorin…? You've got someone here to see you."

Thorin turned around, an almost annoyed expression on his face. Upon seeing that it was Bilbo and Baylee, however, his face softened and a broad smile even came to his lips when he saw Baylee clad in the dwarvish clothing. "'Ibinê abnâmul," he breathed. He walked over to the pair only to find that he stood level with them. "I have never seen a woman more beautiful than you look right now, 'ibinê."

Baylee felt her cheeks grow hot at his compliment and, as he reached his hand out to brush his knuckles against her cheek, it almost felt like Thorin was himself again. But when she looked at his eyes, she knew that couldn't be further from the truth.

When she had arrived two days ago, the golden sheen over his eyes had been light and barely visible from afar. Now, though, it could be seen from a few feet away, the flecks of gold standing out brightly against the blue of his eyes.

"Dori did do quite a lovely job with the alterations, didn't he?" she said, smiling warmly. "I'm surprised he was able to get them done so fast." Taking hold of his hand, she nuzzled her cheek into his palm.

"He did do some wonderful work," he softly agreed. Letting the pad of his thumb gently brush against the apple of her cheek, he allowed his eyes remain on her face for a few seconds longer before he leaned forward, kissing her.

When the kiss lingered for nearly a minute, Bilbo awkwardly cleared his throat to remind the king that he was still there. "I, um, take it she looks as lovely as you were hoping?" he asked, trying not to sound as terribly awkward as he suddenly felt.

"Even lovelier." He drew back from her, his hands moving to take hold of her waist. A joyous laugh left his mouth as he suddenly lifted her above his head and, eyes still fixed on her, spun them around in a circle.

She squeaked in surprise, her hands instinctively moving to grip onto his shoulders as he spun round. Her cheeks becoming flushed once more, she let out a laugh of her own and smiled lovingly at the dwarf. When she looked down at him, however, her heart ached; for just a few seconds, it seemed as if his eyes were as clear as ever. But when she blinked, the gold was back.

"You look every bit the queen Erebor deserves," he declared with a hearty laugh. "In fact…" He brought her close and kissed her a second time, this one lasting only a few seconds. "We should marry today."

Both Bilbo and Baylee looked at him with wide, shocked eyes. "Wh-what?" Baylee squeaked, unsure if she had just heard him right. She continued to stare at him even as he gently set her on the ground. "T-today? Wh-why today?"

"I-I-I thought you were going to wait a few years?" Bilbo questioned, brows furrowing slightly. "You know, t-t-to give Erebor some time to be rebuilt and to do a pr-proper bit of courting?"

"I see no point in waiting any longer for marriage," Thorin stated. "Erebor has its king. Why should we keep it waiting for its queen?"

Bilbo swallowed hard; there was an eerie possessiveness to his words. "Wouldn't it make more sense to at least wait until—"

"I will wait no longer!" Thorin suddenly bellowed, making both hobbits jump. His voice echoed around the cavern, making the other dwarves cease their search to instead look over at the landing. He looked at Baylee; the gentle smile had gone from his face, replaced now by one of desire.

"I have waited long enough to have you as my wife, 'ibinê," he said, his voice softer, but no less possessive. He either didn't notice or care when, as he reached out and brushed his knuckles against her cheek, she flinched. "I will wait no longer. Tonight, we will marry," he told her, his eyes focused on hers, "and you will be crowned queen of this lonely mountain."

Thorin didn't see Bilbo rush over to the frightened Baylee or how he protectively pulled her against him. Instead, he returned to his spot at the railing where he could gaze out at his treasure. "Let us hope the Arkenstone will be found before evening falls. Then I and the mountain shall both have our beloved gems."

Hardly a sound could be heard as Baylee slowly walked down one of Erebor's many hallways by her lonesome. She had no destination in mind—she had merely wanted to be alone for a while. It had taken a great deal of convincing on her part to get Thorin to let her out of his sight, but with a little white lie about needing to get her pre-wedding jitters under control, he had relented.

Well…it hadn't quite been a lie. She did have to get her jitteriness under control, but they weren't ones of excitement. They were of uneasiness.

Thorin's outburst had left her more than a little shaken.

'Bard warned me about this,' she thought, hugging herself. 'Bard told me that dwarves—especially his line—are susceptible to Dragon Sickness, but I didn't pay it much heed. Why would I, though? Up until now, I've had no reason to believe that such a thing could happen to him…The Thorin I know is honorable, generous, and kind. He had his moments of brashness, yes, but doesn't everybody?'

Closing her eyes, she paused in her walking to lean against the base of one of the massive pillars. Her hip was aching, but she did her best to ignore the pain; it's not like there was anything she could do to help it, other than to simply not walk for a few days.

'With Thorin taken by the Dragon Sickness, what are we supposed to do about the people of Laketown? He had given his word that he would help them to rebuild Dale, but now...?' Tears began to roll down her cheeks, but she paid them no mind. With no one around, she could allow herself a moment of weakness.

'Maybe…maybe between me and Fili, we'd be able to convince him to help? If we tell him that, by helping the people of Laketown rebuild, what was given away will be returned threefold once trade started up?'

As hopeful a thought as it was, she knew it was unlikely to happen.

Shaking her head, she stood upright and began to walk once more. 'Thank Yavanna that Fili and Kili haven't caught the Dragon Sickness…'

The princes, much to everyone's relief, had shown no signs of the sickness since arriving—if anything, they had shown nothing but disdain for the hoard of gold and jewels. Fili, especially, had been trying his hardest to avoid the treasury on the slightest chance that he could become infected.

That, and he hated seeing what his uncle was becoming.

'This has to be extremely hard for them, seeing Thorin like this. They've looked up to him their whole lives…I can't even begin to imagine the sort of pain they're suffering.' Letting out a shaky sigh, she did her best to wipe the tears from her cheeks. 'When I get the chance, I should check on them. I have the feeling they'll try to appear strong, but…I know they need someone to vent to.'

"Ah, there you are, Miss Baggins."

She stiffened slightly when the silence was broken, but upon realizing that it was Balin's voice she heard, she relaxed. Giving her cheeks another quick wipe to rid them of tears, she turned around to find the older dwarf a few yards away from her. "It's time, then?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

He nodded. "Aye, it is." There was a look of pity on his face as Baylee walked towards him. "How much do you know of dwarvish wedding customs, lass?"

"Nothing," she answered. When she got nearer to him, he turned and started to walk alongside her. "Thorin and I never…really had the chance to talk about marriage customs."

"Understandable, given how the two o' you weren't meant to marry for a few years yet." As he walked, he kept his hands clasped behind his back and his gaze was mostly fixed on the floor. "Tonight will be…well, an abridged version o' a traditional wedding ceremony. First will come the binding of the hands. You and Thorin will hold onto one another's hands as I wrap a length o' cord around them."

"What does the cord signify?"

He glanced down at her from the corner of his eye as he answered, "A long, happy, and prosperous marriage." Watching as she nervously bit her lower lip, he let out a soft sigh. "As I'm wrapping your hands, I'll be reciting the words that will bind you and Thorin in marriage. When I'm done, the two of you will share your first kiss as husband and wife."

"That sounds simple enough," Baylee said, continuing to follow him as he led her around a corner. "A bit simpler than a hobbit wedding, at the very least."

"There's usually quite a bit of pomp and circumstance involved in dwarven weddings," he explained, "especially royal ones. But, as I said, this is more o' an abridged version, whittled down to the bare basics." Closing his eyes, he sighed. "Normally, you would remain bound until it was time for you two to go to your chamber for the evening, but Thorin wants you crowned queen right after the binding. As such, you'll both slip your hands apart while doin' your best to not undo the ceremonial knot."

Baylee swallowed hard at the thought of being crowned queen and marrying Thorin at, basically, the same time. "…H-how is the crowning going to work?"

"Quite simple, really—much simpler than the wedding," he assured her, his eyes opening again to give her a small smile. "It merely involves Thorin proclaiming you to be the first of your name and that your queenship is a blessin'. Then he'll crown you. Normally, you'd also have t' make an oath t' rule fairly and to tend t' the needs of the people, but given that there are only fifteen of us, I have my doubts he'll have you make the oath."

She nodded in understanding, her brow furrowing somewhat as she remained silent.

"You seem troubled by something, Miss Baggins. What is it?"

Her cheeks started to grow warm, leaving her thankful that the light around them was cool and dim. "W-well, it's rather silly, I must admit, but…is the crown going to fit me? Because if it's meant for a dwarven woman, it's more than likely going to end up as a gorget instead of a crown."

Balin blinked, a bit taken aback by the innocence of her question. But then, a hearty laugh left his mouth. "Of all the things you could be worried about, it's the crown's fit that has you most worried?" he asked, clearly amused.

"I-I assure you, I'm plenty worried about everything else," she told him, her cheeks growing even hotter. Sighing, she turned her gaze down to the floor. "I just…With Thorin's temper being so short, I don't want it to be set off by something so simple."

His laughter fading at her explanation, Balin nodded in understanding. "That's a valid concern, lass," he said, "but I don't think you'll have to worry about him flying into a rage during either ceremony. Especially over the crown not fitting." He took her around another corner.

She glanced up at him. "Why is that?"

"The term 'crown' is quite a bit misleading in this case, I must admit," he told her. "Though you'll be crowned queen, it's actually a necklace that you'll be wearin'."

"A…necklace?"

"Yes. You see, dwarven women usually wear their hair in many, many braids with all sorts o' decorative trinkets scattered throughout," he explained. "It doesn't leave much room for a crown to fit, let alone stand out. As such, the first queen of Erebor chose to instead wear a necklace to denote her status. And it is a necklace that can be adjusted quite easily, so there's no need to worry about it not havin' the proper fit."

It was then he stopped walking and, as Baylee looked ahead of them, she found that they had come to the end of the hall. They now stood at the edge of the heart of the mountain: The throne room. It was vast and open, stretching for hundreds of yards in all directions and, in the very center sat the throne. It was a mighty seat carved from the base of a singular pillar of stone; from where she stood, Baylee could see thick veins of gold and quartz running throughout it.

Thorin was pacing before the throne as the majority of others stood nearby, watching him uneasily as he spoke to them; Dwalin, she saw, was nowhere to be found. Thorin's voice reached Baylee and Balin's ears in distorted echoes, making them both nervous and curious as to what he was saying. Occasionally, an echo would be louder than the rest as he snapped at someone.

Turning her head slightly, Baylee tried to listen a little harder. Upon hearing the word 'Arkenstone', however, she shook her head and stopped listening.

"Is there anything we can do to help him?" she asked, her voice small as they started to walk again. Her insides began twisting about in apprehension and she silently thanked Yavanna that she wasn't becoming ill from it.

"The sickness is one that strengthens whatever greed an' jealousy is already in a person's heart. An' it's for that reason, I'm afraid the only person who can help Thorin is himself." Heaving a sigh, Balin looked down at her, pity in his eyes. "I'm sorry, lass…It was never meant t' be like this."

"No, it wasn't," she sighed.

As they drew nearer to the throne, Thorin turned only to be startled by their presence. "There you are," he said. "I was beginning to wonder if—" He stopped himself and shook his head. "No. Never mind that. Come, Balin, 'ibinê. We've everything ready for the ceremony." He impatiently beckoned them forward—towards the throne—on the seat of which sat a wide, wooden box and a coil of braided cord.

Baylee glanced over at the others to see that Bilbo was nervously gripping onto Bofur's arm; both of them wore matching looks of worry. In hopes of easing their nerves, she gave them a small, but reassuring smile. Then, feeling someone taking hold of her hand, she looked up to find Thorin smiling down at her. Though it was a joyful smile, it was also one of greed—it was as if he saw her less like a person and more like a prize he had won.

'Which is probably exactly what he thinks now,' she thought. 'He's called me nothing but 'ibinê since I got here, after all…'

"It is time, 'ibinê," he said, carefully guiding her towards the throne. "You and I will finally be joined as husband and wife—as king and queen." Raising her hands, he placed a kiss on the back of each one.

Swallowing her nerves, she smiled up at him and gave his hands a small squeeze. "I've been looking forward to this moment all day," she told him, her voice shaking only a little bit. Her heart started to race inside her chest, making her worry that it would somehow escape.

As the others gathered around her and Thorin, she felt her cheeks begin to grow hot; she had always hated being the center of attention but that moment was worse than normal. She knew well enough that they could all sense her discomfort and her fear, but there was nothing they could do to help her. Not unless they wanted to stir Thorin's wrath.

"Is everyone ready?" Balin questioned, retrieving the cord from the throne. Hearing the others halfheartedly answer with varying forms of 'yes', he nodded and turned to face the couple while clearing his throat. He saw that they had already crossed arms and taken hold of each other's hands; Baylee's were almost completely hidden by Thorin's.

"Tonight, we gather here t' celebrate the joining of this happy and blessed couple," he began, stepping towards the pair. "This sacred cord I'm about t' use to bind your hands together not only represents the love, the commitment, an' the respect you have for one another, but also the joining o' your two hearts and your two souls into one." While he spoke, he began to wrap the cord around their hands, taking care to not make it too tight.

Baylee glanced down at the cord as it was wound around their hands, finding that it was made up of lengths of gold, silver, and black ribbon. She bit back a frown; in the Shire, black was considered a color of mourning and would never be seen at a wedding. While she prayed that this wasn't an ill omen—that black was actually a color of luck or of love for the dwarves—the feeling in her gut told her otherwise.

"As you stand here, holding your lover's hands in your own, remember this: These are the hands that will work alongside yours t' build your future together." He paused in his winding to tie a knot before continuing. "These are the hands that will countless times wipe the tears from your eyes, whether they be o' sorrow or be o' joy…"

Swallowing hard, she lifted her head to look up at Thorin only to find him staring at her in a mixture of admiration and desire. She did her best to focus only on the admiration, but the way he held her hands made it a difficult task. His hold was just barely too tight, though it wasn't yet painful; it was just uncomfortable. It was as if he were afraid that, at any second, she would pull herself free and run away from him.

Part of her was tempted to try.

"…These are the hands that will give you strength when you need it," Balin continued. He was nearly at the end of the cord now and had added three more knots into it. "Lastly, these are the hands that will still be reaching for yours even when wrinkled and aged t' give you the same unspoken tenderness with just a touch."

Having now reached the end, he tied the rope off with one, final knot before stepping back. He held his hands towards the newlyweds, presenting them to the others. "With the tying o' this final knot, you are forevermore bound together by a promise: A promise to love each other today, tomorrow, an' forever. You may now seal this promise with a kiss."

The words had scarcely left Balin's mouth when Thorin leaned over and pressed his lips to Baylee's. It was nothing at all like the kisses they had shared previously. Those had been tender, shy—comforting, even. But this was a kiss fueled by the greed of Dragon Sickness: Fervent, selfish, and domineering.

The kiss came on so suddenly and with such hunger, Baylee froze in shock. It felt wrong—so very wrong. Her mind told her to pull away, that this wasn't the kiss of someone who loved her. But she willed herself to stay in place, forcing her body to relax and to return the kiss, though she hardly matched the intensity Thorin gave.

Nearly half a minute passed before he drew his lips away from hers only to rest his forehead against hers. "You're finally mine, 'ibinê," he whispered, his eyes gazing into hers.

"And you're finally mine, Oakenshield," she whispered back. As she closed her eyes to avoid looking into his, she felt a tear escape and roll down her cheek.

He stole a second, much gentler kiss before standing upright. "And now, to make you Erebor's queen," he declared, voice loud enough for the others to hear as well.

Balin nodded. "Take care when you free your hands," he gently warned. "You wouldn't want t' undo anything."

Baylee could feel everyone anxiously watching them as she and Thorin started to free their hands; if something were to go wrong, this would be the time. Luckily, removing the cord was almost too easy for the pair: Thorin simply loosened his grip on Baylee's hands, allowing her to pull them free before removing the cord from his. With his hands now untied, Thorin went to the throne and retrieved the necklace from within the wooden box.

Biting her lower lip, she stole another quick look at Bilbo and Bofur. Both looked calmer, which brought her some relief, but there was still concern on their faces.

Her gaze returned to Thorin in time to see him turn around, the necklace in hand. At first, she thought it was made of pointed strips of leather held together by a thick, gold wire. The strips graduated in length, with the longest one sitting in the very middle. Starting from that piece, every other strip had two, silver dots embossed into them.

When he came closer, however, she found that the strips weren't leather at all, but thin plates of some sort of metal held together by the gold wire. They had been patinaed in such a way that they were now a deep shade of brown with little flecks of blue. And the silver dots, as it turned out, were actually small pearls that had been set into the metal.

Its simplicity took her by surprise, but it was its simplicity that made it look elegant.

"With this necklace," Thorin said, moving to carefully place it around her neck, "I now name you Queen Baylee, the first of her name and consort to I, King Thorin II. May our rule be long and may it be prosperous." With it now securely resting around her neck, he took a step back to admire his queen; he barely noticed the halfhearted clapping from the rest of the company.

Though the back of the metal plates were covered by leather, the necklace was still cold against her skin and she shivered slightly. She was a bit surprised to find that, despite it being mostly metal, it felt rather light on her neck. Biting her lower lip, she raised a hand to brush her fingers against the metal plates.

"…Does it look alright?" she asked Thorin, forcing a small, playful smile onto her lips.

"Like it was made for you," he replied with a small chuckle. "Now come—let us go have our first meal together as husband and wife. I'm afraid it'll be a poor feast, but when—"

He was suddenly interrupted as Dwalin came sprinting down the walkway, his face red from having run from wherever he had been. He came to a halt a few feet from them, doubling over and resting his hands on his thighs as he breathed heavily. "Th-Thorin…survivors in-in Dale. The lake-people…" Though he tried his best, he was too out of breath to speak.

Baylee's eyes widened. "The people of Laketown made it to Dale?" she questioned, her heart racing anew. This news was both good and bad to her ears.

Dwalin nodded, still unable to speak just yet.

"Oh, thank the Valar they made it safely!" she sighed, relief flooding her features. "I can't imagine how tired and cold they—"

"Everyone to the gate," Thorin interjected. "I want you all to begin securing it against outsiders." Confused, Baylee looked up at him only to find that his demeanor had changed entirely. There was no trace of the selfish joy that had been there just seconds ago; instead, a wary sternness had taken it place. "I want this fortress safe by sunup."

No one moved, however; they, too, were confused by his change in attitude and by the orders he was giving.

A growl left Thorin's throat. He shouted at them in Khuzdul, making them jump. It had clearly been enough of an initiative, however, as they began to hurry away—save for Dwalin, who was still trying to catch his breath. He was spared Thorin's anger and instead looked up as the king walked over to him.

"How long ago did the lake-people arrive in Dale?" he asked, his voice even, but still bearing annoyance.

"I came runnin' as soon as I saw the first fires," Dwalin replied. He still sounded a bit breathless, but he was able to speak coherently. "So they can't have been there much longer than an hour."

Baylee took a few limping steps forward; she was shaking like a leaf in a windstorm thanks to Thorin's shouting. "Th-Thorin, we-we shouldn't be shutting the survivors out," she spoke up, trying her best to not sound timid. "We should be wel—" She squeaked and suddenly went silent as Thorin look at her sharply, his expression softening only a little when he realized it was her who had been speaking.

"Your heart is big, 'ibinê," he told her, voice quiet, but stern, "and it's one of the many qualities I admire about you. But this is no time for us to be soft. I know well the hardship the people of Laketown have suffered through; they should rejoice that they have lived through the dragon fire. But this mountain was hard won by us and I will not see it taken again."

Her brows furrowed. "'Taken again'? Thorin, they don't want to take anything. However, they do need shel—"

"Baylee." He had raised his voice just slightly, but the abrupt coldness of his tone made her shrink back. "There will be no further discussion about this. The gate will be secured against outsiders."

He then turned to Dwalin, though he said nothing at first. A look of contemplation was on his face, as if he were debating on whether or not he should say something to him "Escort her to dining hall and make sure she stays there," he finally ordered. "Come to the gate when you're finished." With his order given, he walked away.

Dwalin watched his retreating form for a few moments before shaking his head and letting out a heavy sigh. Then, turning towards Baylee, he frowned. She was sitting on her knees, her body still shaking from just how cold and unfeeling Thorin's voice had been. Her eyes were shut and pain mingled with fear on her face as she kept a hand pressed against her hip. Knowing she shouldn't do any more walking for a while, he went over to her and crouched down.

"C'mon, wee lassie," he said, his usually gruff voice gentle. "Yeh need some rest t' let that hip o' yours heal better." Carefully, he scooped her up from the floor, taking care to agitate her hip as little as possible when he started to walk off with her.

A/N: This chapter was...surprisingly difficult to write. There are a lot of emotions taking place in it and I'm afraid the rest of the chapters will have even more emotions in them and they're not happy emotions. But uh, hey! Thorin and Baylee are married! That's kind of good! =D

Also, from what it's looking like, there will be 38 chapters + an epilogue in total. I'm not saying that's a for-sure total, but given the timeline I have in my head, that's what it's looking like.