Author's Note: MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE & Season Greetings.
WOW! Sixty freaking chapters... Holy Sh!t. What have I been doing with my life... or not doing is probably the far more accurate question, but whatever, it's still fun, which is the main thing, yeah?
Though I am kinda scared if I'll still think/feel this way after tomorrow. Yup tomorrow is the BIG day, the day I finally see Battle of Five Armies and finally understanding why everyone on tumblr is crying over an acorn? I mean, I can understand all the crying over Fili, which despite how hard I've been fighting NOT to read/see spoilers, I am definitely going to be writing more Fili into this fic after glancing at some posts and fanart. But the acorn? Yeah, I don't get... at all. But like I said, I've only glanced at spoilers before quickly scrolling down, so maybe the acorn thing is just a metaphor. Or has Bagginshield been changed to Acorn? Because of the whole brass acorn buttons vs Thorin's oak branch shield (Does that turn up again by the way or has it been left on the cliff after the eagles picked up Thorin? Which seriously eagles, ya can pick up the dwarf, his bloody great sword that could cut threw ya toes if it slide at the wrong moment, but ya can't pick up the oak branch shield? Right, spoiler, sorry, bad Shelle)
Anyway, like I said in the previous chapter this is basically a Thorin/Bilbo angst slash fluff chapter. I mean, there is plot, but there is also a lot Thorin/Bilbo angst. Seriously, Thorin is trying, really, really trying to be the dwarf Bilbo honestly deserves, he just isn't very good at expressing himself with words and when he does try, it all comes out wrong. Buckle in, its a long chapter of pure Thorin/Bilbo and them trying to sort their sh!t out

Anyway enjoy. The title come from the lyrics of Florence + The Machines 'No Light, No Light' which was listening to on and off during the writing of this chapter.

Chapter Sixty

You Can't Choose What Stays and What Fades Away

"NO!"

She sat bolt upright in bed, a scream still dancing in her throat as her son's frantic, frighten yelps blasted her ears from where he was pressed up against her. Her scream ended with a squeak as she forced herself to calm down as she tried to sooth her son.

"Frodo. Frodo." She caught his shoulders, "Frodo, shush, it's alright, everything is all…."

Her chamber door flew open with a crack causing the pair to let out joint shrieks of fright.

"Mama!" Frodo whined as Thorin, and half a dozen guards came barreling into the chamber, "Mama, please stop doing that. Tell her to stop doing that!" This was directed at Thorin who was surveying the chamber with dark eyes, a knife gleaming in his hands.

"You can go." Thorin barked to the guards once he was certain that there was no threat in the room threatening to kill them. The guards bowed and retreated, closing the chamber door behind them while Thorin remained staring at mother and son sitting up in bed.

Bilbo felt her cheeks warm at the sight of him, while Frodo simply grumbled beside her, obviously too tired and grouchy from his abrupt awaking to put his usual enthusiasm forward at the sight of Thorin.

"Are you both well?" Thorin asked quietly, his tone cautious as he returned his knife to his belt.

"We're fine." Bilbo replied quickly ignoring Frodo's continued grumbles, "I'm sorry," she added, speaking over her son's muttering, "I'm sorry for causing such a fuss. Won't happen again." Hopefully she added silently to herself.

She rubbed her face and was horrified to find her cheeks wet. She had been crying in her sleep again, and with the small oil lamp still glowing by her bedside table, Thorin (and his guards also) could probably see that she had been. She hastily wiped the tears streaks away, trying to ignore the fact that Thorin was watching her do this. She had half the mind to tell him to go away, but wasn't sure how to word her request without him taking offense. He had after all come rushing to rescue her from a then unknown foe.

She placed a hand over her still pounding heart, trying to remind it that this Thorin, the one currently standing in her chambers was not the Thorin of her nightmares nor was he the Thorin in the throes of the gold-sickness.

Frodo was still muttering (and giving off the odd sniffle) as he curled back into bed, his eyes already starting to flutter close. Bilbo betted that he would be sound asleep in minutes, despite the fright that had caused him to wake so suddenly from his slumber only moments ago. She wished she could be like that, but the thought of sleep, of dreaming utterly terrified her at that very moment and she found she wasn't even the slightest bit tired anymore. Heart still beating at a faster rate than normal she pushed herself out of the bed, rubbing her face as she did so, wiping away the last of her tears, leaving her face feeling vaguely raw and sticky.

She was just thinking of splashing her face when she remembered that she and Frodo were not the only creatures in her chambers. Hands coming to rest upon her hips she stared questioningly at the King under the Mountain who was still standing in the middle of her room watching her with an almost unreadable expression. It took her another moment to remember she was dressed in a sleeping shift, a very long and heavy shift, but a shift no less. She forced back her embarrassment over her state undress (because honestly, the child in her bed was proof of exactly how undressed she has been around the dwarf in front of her) to instead ask him in a clip tone, "Can I help you with something?"

"You screamed." He replied in a similar cool tone.

"Yes, and I said that I was sorry about that." She retorted back, arms crossing against her chest, "won't happen again."

"Won't it?" Thorin asked, eyebrows raised, crossing his own arms across his chest.

Bilbo stared at him, trying to gauge exactly what he was thinking, what he might want.

"Hopefully... I don't know." she admitted shrugging her shoulders. She glanced over at Frodo who, as she had predicted was fast asleep, though his little face she could see was twisted into the tiniest of frowns. Maybe she wouldn't try to sleep again tonight, to avoid waking Frodo again. He hadn't been easy to settle when bedtime had come around, whining that he wasn't tired and battling her the whole time while she tried getting him ready for bed. And once she had finally gotten him tucked into bed, he had tossed and turned, barely dozing. He hadn't said, but she suspected that the revelation to him being the reincarnation of Durin the Deathless was bothering him far more than he was letting on.

"Come," Thorin said suddenly drawing her out of her thoughts. She blinked back at him, surprised to see him gesturing for her to follow him.

"Where?"

"For a walk." He replied simply though she swore she could see his ears turning pink, "you look as if you could use some fresh air."

She stared at him, a little dumbfounded.

"Am…am I allowed? To leave these chambers I mean? I thought I was rather under house arrest, you know, until my trial is over and done with."

"No," Thorin shook his head, "not quite. It was simply believed that until things have been… worked out, sorted, it would be best to keep you and your family out of sight."

"Out of mind?" She offered dryly and before she could stop her tongue, she added, "While Frodo can walk freely around markets and the city?" She watched him struggle for a moment, a silent battle obviously raging within himself on how to answer her before she waved him off, "oh, forget it. Now, what did you say about fresh air? Is it very far?" as she spoke, she was pulling on a dressing gown. Not that it is actually a dressing gown, she thinks vaguely to herself as she ran a hand over the fabric, rather, it is more like a very soft coat, with lovely wool lining.

"Not too far." Thorin finally answered her. She nodded once before glancing back at her sleeping child as she walked past Thorin and out of the chamber.

She blinked in surprise as she watched Thorin lock the chamber door with a key that had been tucked inside one of his coat's pockets.

Seeing her look of surprise as he tucked the key back into his coat, he shrugged.

"If he wakes and finds you gone, do you not think he will try and find you?"

"So your solution is to lock him in?" Bilbo questioned in a dry tone.

"Yours isn't?"

"Hobbits aren't true believers in locked doors." Bilbo retorted primly before remembering who she was talking to and felt her heart give an unsteady beat. Why was it so easy to fall back into… whatever it was they had had before every turned so terribly, terribly sour?

"Well, dwarves are." Thorin replied obviously missing, or maybe he was simply letting pass without comment, her sudden return to nervousness around him. "And this dwarf has spent quite a number of hours searching this mountain up and down for that wayward child because he has escaped unlocked rooms."

"He's curious." Bilbo defended her child briskly

"Haven't you ever heard what happened to the cat?"

Bilbo rolled her eyes back at him, once more forgetting herself.

"It was from stupidity, not curiosity that killed it. And Frodo is anything but stupid."

"Aye," Thorin nodded and Bilbo was pleased to see a proud gleam in his eyes, "he is not."

They walked in oddly companionable silence, reminding her not of the time when they had been most intimate but rather of when she had spent days upon days sitting outside his cell in Thranduil's kingdom, leaning against the bars, feeling his back against hers from where he sat on the other side of the cell door.

It was in those days that she had realised she loved him and that he… was quite fond of her too. They had spent a lot of those days, when she hadn't been exploring the underground labyrinth for a way of escaping with thirteen dwarves unseen, just sitting in silence. Not an echoing silence but companionable silence, comforting almost. They had talked also. He had told her about Erebor, the childhood he had had within the great stone halls and of the times after Smaug had desolated it; of the battles he had fought in, the ones he won and those he had lost, of the time he had spent without a permanent home acting as a travelling blacksmith working for pittance, sending every coin back to his sister and nephews. And in return, she had told him of her life in the Shire, her childhood shenanigans, of her almost overwhelming grief when her mother passed away and of the quiet fury towards her father when he had fallen into his almost death-like state of being, leaving her to face dark times when she had felt she had lost both parents instead of just one and she was utterly alone in the world. She had told him of her constant struggle for independence, to prove once and for all, she did not need husband to keep her family wealth and lands in check, that she was quite well equip to do all that herself, thank you very much. And lastly, she spoke of her would-have been marriage if he and his company had not turned up at her door the very night before her wedding, of how she had finally given in to the pressure from her family to marry and be done with it, to secure her line and legacy, that marrying Lotho was a good match.

As she had not judged him on what he had told her of his past, he passed no judgement upon her and from those quiet moments, something had grown. She had told him things she had never breathed to anyone else, some she had barely allowed herself to think of before banishing the whispers to the far reaches of her mind. She was certain that he had done the same; spoken of things to her he had not shared with his sister, Balin or Dwalin, those who were closest to him.

She had actually grown to miss those moments once they had escaped from Thranduil's dungeons and were once more travelling towards their goal. She had missed those quiet moments of sharing words or simply each other's presences. Everything seemed to become quite rushed once they reached Lake Town, spinning quite beyond either of their control and while she does not regret for a moment the intimate moments they had had together there, she did wish they hadn't lost the verbal closeness they had shared during those weeks trapped in a prison cell. Maybe if they hadn't, things might have transpired differently…

No, she couldn't start thinking over the what-if's, they would do her no good but cause her further heartache.

She was drawn from her heavy thoughts by a sudden change to the air around her; it was suddenly fresher with a different kind of chilliness to it. She looked around her hopefully and almost broke into a run when she saw a light that was most definitely not made from touch light. The moon! The stars! Endless openness, no walls, no ceilings, nothing but the world caught between earth and sky.

With an almost fugitive grin, she picked up her pace to a brisk jog, desperate to fill her lungs with air that wasn't filtered around the vast chambers within the mountain, to feel the wind upon her face. Stepping outside, into the open air was almost like the first splashes of cold water she used to wash her face in the morning, to fully shake the sleep away. A complete shock to the system before becoming refreshing, reviving every nerve in her body, snapping her into a state of being fully awake.

She breathed in deeply, eyes closed, shivering in silent delight as the cold air filled her lungs and tingled her throat. She would be freezing within a few minutes, but she would happily take the cold if it meant she could breathe in fresh air for longer than a few moments.

She stepped out on to the battlements and for a one very terrible moment, she thought that he had brought her to those battlements, the ones above the great front gates of Erebor where everything had gone so terribly wrong and…

But no, he hadn't. She could see them, from where she was now leaning against the low stone wall, down below them, night guards marching dutifully upon it.

She swallowed thickly and looked away. Why look down when you could look up and out. Up at the crescent moon and star filled sky or out into the direction of the rebuilt Dale, her buildings once more standing proudly against the night sky.

She could sense Thorin standing behind her, but she did not turn to look back at him, instead, she rested her head down upon her arms, which were crossed on top of the wall, letting out a small content sigh.

"Oin says that you've refused to take the sleeping draft to help you sleep." Thorin spoke suddenly, his tone cautious. Bilbo rolled her eyes.

"That's right."

"He also says that you're refusing to talk over your battle dreams."

"Oin needs to learn to keep his mouth shut." Bilbo grunted, rubbing her cheek against her folded arms.

"He is concerned for you. We… we are all concerned for you."

"They're just nightmares." Bilbo growled, even though they were so much more than that.

"What you suffer from are more than just simple nightmares." Thorin rumbled gently behind her, "there is no shame in speaking of them."

"I'm not ashamed of them." She snapped, whirling around to face him, "I'm not!" She insisted when he simply raised an eyebrow back at her. "It's complicated!" She growled when he still stared at her with his calm, waiting gaze, she continued shrilly, "It's not like I enjoy having them! Do you think I like having them every single night? Waking up and not knowing if I'm still dreaming or not, so caught up in my dreams that I don't know what's real and what is not. If I thought for a moment speaking of them with someone would help I would have, only…" She looked away from her face twisting in anger, "it's complicated."

"Explain to me how they are complicated." She scowled at the dwarf who was now casually leaning against the stone wall beside him, watching her with calm, patient eyes. "What makes them so complicated that you feel that you cannot share them?"

"I… It – they just are!"

"Why?"

"Because I very much doubt that talking about them will help!" She snapped finally.

Thorin shook his dark head, the lines of silver in his hair glinting in the moonlight.

"You do not know that."

"Oh," She muttered sarcastically, looking away from him and back out at the world, "and I'm sure you speak of your nightmares, your battle dreams to others, huh?"

"I do," Thorin replied sincerely, "to those I trust most; Balin, Dwalin, my sister. I've talk of them with Fili and Kili, for they have seen their own share of horror which now invade their minds at night. It is hard, at first, but with time it will help."

Bilbo shook her head, frustrated that the infuriating dwarf in front of her would not simply drop the matter. The Thorin she had known during the quest would not have pressed her so hard to speak of such things.

"Billanna."

"I don't want to talk about it." She huffed furiously, "I hate even having to think about my nightmares, remembering the reasons behind why I have them. I hate it so badly! And yet, everyone wants me to talk about it. How do you think talking about something that I desperately, desperately just want to forget will help in the slightest? Tell me how?"

"Because the way you are currently dealing with them is no way to cope with the terrible things you have seen, no way for you to live the rest of your life."

She shrugged.

"Speak of them with me."

"Huh?" She looked back at him with wide, panic filled eyes. He met her eyes with a determined gaze.

"Speak of your nightmares with me."

"That's what I thought you said." She choked, "No, I can't."

"Why?"

"Because you don't want to hear them!"

"Because I am a part of your nightmares?" Thorin guessed quietly. She looked away from him, heart pounding.

"Billanna," Thorin continued gruffly, "I do not remember all of the crimes that I committed when I was in the throes of the gold sickness…"

"Maybe that's a blessing." She interrupted him quietly. Why was he doing this? Why couldn't he just let it go, all of it? Why he could he not just leave it all in the past, where it belonged?

"No," She looked up at him at his fierce tone, taking in his angry eyes and clenched fists, "No, it is no blessing. I would have myself knowing every crime I committed while I was under the gold sickness's thrall."

"And you want to hear it from me?" She squeaked in horror.

"You have nightmares about what I did, what I did to you."

She shook her head, furiously.

"My nightmares aren't just about… just about that!" She squeaked desperately, desperate for him to just let go of this conversation. She stared up into his face and groaned.

"You're not going to stop are you? Let it go?" She buried her face into her hands.

"You need to speak with them to someone, and since I'm partially to blame for your suffering, I…" He replied in a gruff tone that was obviously fighting to hide deeper emotions.

"Argh!" She ran her fingers through her hair, "why do you care so much? I mean, I can understand your wish to know what occurred during your time under the gold sickness, but why me? Why does it have to be me? Why do I have to be the one to tell you? Ask the others, any of the others! They can tell you."

Thorin let out a small, bitter laugh as he shook his head.

"You truly are a ridiculous creature."

Something inside of her, some old fury half forgot beneath grief and pain, rose to the surface, causing her to snap.

"Ridiculous? How am I ridiculous?" She screeched, her voice growing high in pitch, "There is nothing wrong with not wanting to remembering terrible things, not wanting to speak of them. Don't you understand? I don't want to deal with these things. I never have! I just want to be allowed to forget! Forget and not remember, not ever again. For goodness sakes, I'm a hobbit! I'm not supposed to have these things," She pointed wildly at her head, "in my head at all! I just want to forget! Why can no one understand that!"

"Because you will never forget," Thorin replied gruffly, "you will never forget, not truly, and by not talking about it, all those memories, all those emotions will grow and fester within you. It will kill you!"

"And who would care?" She was all but shrieking at him now, her heart pounding and eyes wild "who would honestly care if I died! I've made so many mistakes, caused so much damaged just by trying to be clever. There are so many deaths on my hands, so much blood! So much death that when I stop to think of them I can't breathe, I can't move. Those lives, in Laketown and during the Battle of Five Armies, are gone from this world forever, never to breathe again! My nightmares? Nothing compared to that. Nothing compared to the loss of their lives, the loss to their families. Nothing that I suffer at night can compare to their loss of life! Nothing! For the rest of my life, I'll have their deaths of my hands. And when I die… no one will mourn…"

She was cut off by Thorin suddenly grabbing her, catching her face in his hands and kissing her fiercely on the mouth, his soft beard scratching gently against her chin.

She choked against him mouth before her knees began to wobble. He pulled away before her brain properly processed what had just happened. Breathing heavily, she only just managed to grab his coat in her fingers to keep herself upright as she leant against his chest.

"Don't" He growled into her hair, "Don't ever say such a thing. Don't you dare even think such things."

She swallowed thickly against his chest and gave a jerky nod. He had kissed her… he had kissed her!

"You need to speak of these things," Thorin continued gruffly into her hair, "to someone, anyone, I don't care who, just don't allow it to fester inside of your heart."

She gave another nod against his chest, breathing heavily.

He had kissed her! Why had he kissed her?

He let go of her and she stepped back and away from him. In the dim light, she could see that his ears were ever so slightly red.

To save them both from further embarrassment, she went back to leaning upon the wall and staring out into aging night.

It was when the sun peaked over that they made the slow progress back to her chambers.

"The council has requested a meeting with Frodo." Thorin said suddenly into the stillness of the corridor they were walking along.

"Because of yesterday?" She asked quietly.

"Yes." Thorin nodded, "My cousin, Dain has also asked for a meeting with the both of you."

She looked at him for a moment in alarm

"Nothing to fear," Thorin continued calmly, "he is genuinely interested in meeting the both of you."

"Alright." She sighed, "So, who will be first? Dain or your council?"

"Dain," Thorin said after a moment.

"The worst first?" she quipped, trying desperately to hide her nerves.

"I was rather thinking the easier meeting first. Dain, I am sure, will be an ally to you."

"To Frodo?"

"And to you also." Thorin added calmly as he pulled out the key to her chambers out of his coat pocket and opened her door.

She walked into her room, relieved to see that Frodo was still sound asleep, though the small sniffling noise he was making did worry her some. Hopefully, a full fledge cold was not on the horizon for her son.

She bit down upon her lip, wondering if she would be able to find the ingredients to make her preventative cold medicine. She would have to speak with Oin; hopefully when she saw Balin later in the morning, he would pass on a message to Oin for him to get all the ingredients she needed to make her cold medicine and possibly, he would even help her make it.

"What is it?" Thorin asked, watching her face closely.

She shook her head, seeing no need to worry him needlessly. Hopefully Frodo would get over his sniffles quickly and there would be no cause to worry anyone. She knew how rarely dwarves themselves became ill and when they did… well, it wasn't too long before they were walking in the halls of their ancestors. So of course the common cold was all but unheard to them and knowing her particular dwarves as she did, she had a strong feeling they would blow Frodo's little cold well out of portion.

"I will leave you to rest." Thorin said suddenly, pulling her from her thoughts.

She nodded her head, not quite meeting his eyes.

"You did that on purpose, didn't you?" She muttered before he left her chambers.

"Hmmm?"

"You knew that if you pushed and kept pushing, I would grow angry and snap."

"I suspected," Thorin replied, "not that this is the end of it of course." She sighed heavily. "Billanna, you have to talk to someone about your nightmares. I don't care who, just someone."

"Fine…" She muttered, not quite meeting his eyes.

"Billanna."

She gave him a look causing him to give an exasperated sigh in return.

"We will talk on this later. Now, try and get some more rest. Someone will be by later to bring you and Frodo to meet with Dain and the council."

"Alright." Bilbo said, "Well, I'll guess I'll see you soon then."

"Yes," she jumped as he ran his hand gently against her cheek bone before leaving her chamber without another word. She clutched a hand to where Thorin had caressed the skin tingling from his touch.

What did it mean? What did it all mean?

She walked back to the bed, laying the dressing gown across the arm of the chair as she did so. She clambered into bed beside Frodo, who still sniffling softly, rolled over to bury himself against her side. Wrapping her arms around him, pressing her cheek against his curls, she closed her eyes, praying silently that she would be able to have an hour or two of peaceful slumber.

Her last thought before slumber took hold was of the unexpected kiss Thorin had given her. Of course, he had done it to shut her up, but still… she fell asleep with a small smile playing upon her mouth.

Author's Note: See, Thorin is trying... he's just isn't very good with words... he really is, as my Dad pointed out quite accurately when I was moaning to him over this chapter, very much a 'actions speak louder than words' sort of man. Hence the kiss. I hadn't originally, in the first draft of this chapter, had him kiss Bilbo and she hadn't lost her temper quite so badly, but my Dad, when I was describing this chapter to him, says that Thorin really has suffered enough, as has Bilbo (and all of you, as my Dad also pointed out in the same conversation, I'm not just writing this fic for me, but for all of you and after sixty chapters, he thinks I've tortured you all enough. When I told him how many chapters it took to having Bilbo and Thorin meeting again, he just gawked at me and was like 'What were you doing for the rest of the FIFTY odd chapters?!') and I needed to start mending the fences between them, not knocking down more pallets, so this is me, starting to rebuild the fence... with them both on the same side. They've still got a lot of issues, with themselves, what they've done in the past, with each other but I think they're starting on the road to forgiving themselves and each other, and they'll be on that road together. There will be bumps but each bump will make them stronger for it, not weaker. At least, that's how I'm hoping to write it and hoping it will turn out.

Right, enough from me. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter (it was a monster to write and I'm still not 100% happy with it but I don't know what else I can do with it. Maybe when I do the re-write/fix-up of this fic, this chapter can have a make-over and I'll be able to tweak to be just right) and I will see you all soon.

Bye.