For a moment, time seemed to slow. Shouts of protest turned to dull roars. All she could see was the arrow flying for her head with deadly precision. Then, she was thrown backwards. Her side slammed into the hard stone ground and the arrow clattered down beside her. It missed her by a hair's breadth. She stared at it, breathing hard, and struggled to comprehend what exactly had happened. Thorin – Thorin didn't just fire an arrow at her. He can't have. He wouldn't. He was her king. She'd known him almost her entire life. She looked up to him and trusted him and followed him and would always follow him.

But, there the arrow lay, fired from Thorin's bow.

Betrayal and pain thrummed through her, her heart pounding. She could hear the others bellowing, Kili the loudest of all, and she looked up to see him stood protectively in front of her. He'd drawn a blade. He'd drawn a blade against Thorin. Had he lost his mind?! He couldn't turn against Thorin, not now, not when their king was so lost in the gold sickness. He needed those he trusted around him and one of those was Kili. They couldn't afford to cause a rift between them. Thorin might be entirely lost. She couldn't let that happen, not after everything they'd been through. Not after everything it'd taken to get that mountain.

"What will it take?!" Ovila shouted, heaving herself to her feet, ignoring the throbbing in her left arm. Her wrist felt hot, but she could still flex her hands and that was all that mattered. She stood in front of Kili and glared up at Thorin furiously. "I'm no traitor to you, Master Thorin! I've known you since I was a child! Why do you think of me as a traitor now?! How can I prove this to you?!" she demanded and sensed Kili move defensively to her side.

"Thief! Whore!" Thorin snarled. There was nothing of him left in his eyes. He had always been in such control of himself, but now his eyes were wild and almost feverish. His lips were curled back over his teeth in a hateful snarl and his cheeks were coloured pink. "You will never step foot in my halls!" he swore and aimed another arrow.

"No!" Fili snarled, wrenching Thorin's arm. The arrow flew over their heads. "Ovila's one of us! She's to marry Kili! You're not going to let your madness kill her!"

"Traitor!"

"None of us are traitors to you," Ovila argued, feeling acutely helpless. "Please, Thorin, just think, you're not yourself."

"We have the Arkenstone!" Bard abruptly barked. Ovila closed her eyes and sighed, rubbing a hand down her face. She knew Bard was trying to help, but their plan was only going to make it worse at this juncture. "If you agree to allow Ovila to leave here unharmed and alive, I'll hand it over," Bard bargained. Ovila and Thranduil cut him looks that suggested he was mentally deficient.

Thorin laughed harshly, but he was the only one to do so. The sound echoed over the army stood on his doorstep and rang through the air. "Lies, the Arkenstone is safely ensconced within these walls," he sneered. In response, Bard withdrew the gleaming Arkenstone from his coat and held it up for inspection. "It must be some trick!" Thorin denied, spittle flying, but his wild eyes flew to Ovila and hatred filled his face. "You! You must've slipped inside in the night and stolen it from us!" he accused, jabbing a finger at her.

"No, Thorin! It was me!" Bilbo interjected. "Ovila – Ovila refused to take it," he admitted with an apologetic glance thrown down at the sole female there. "She couldn't betray you, even if it meant ensuring her own safety within Erebor's walls."

For a moment, there was nothing but silent. Even the wind seemed to still for that moment. Then, all at once, Thorin had his hands around Bilbo's neck and the Hobbit's head was dangling over the edge of the wall. Numerous cries of protest went up and Ovila drew an axe, but found herself unable to throw it. She couldn't raise her blade against Thorin. He'd done too much for her. He was her king, but Bilbo – Bilbo was tiny and fragile and unable to fight back. Could the Hobbit even fight? She didn't know. All she knew was that he definitely wasn't fighting then. He just hung there with Thorin glaring loathingly at him with those feverish eyes that fed him so many delusions.

"RELEASE MY BURGLAR!"

Gandalf marched into view, angrier than Ovila had ever seen him, and Bilbo was abruptly released. He took the same escape route that Kili did and ended up squashed between the two Dwarves. Ovila's maternal instinct took over for the tiny being and she fussed over him, checking he wasn't injured and throwing angry looks up at the ill Thorin. When he was better, he had a lot of apologies to make. For now, Kili just ushered her and Bilbo into a safe place behind Gandalf and stared in hurt disbelief up at his uncle. There was little they could do until Thorin came back to his right state of mind and she hoped it happened sooner rather than later. Unfortunately, Thranduil was right: people would have heard of Smaug's demise and would be making their way to the mountain, like vultures ready to pick over a corpse.

"I'm sorry," Bilbo whispered. "I thought it'd help."

Ovila's face softened and she managed a small smile for the Hobbit. "I know, Bilbo, and you did," she promised. "If Thorin had the Arkenstone, I fear it would be much worse, so I suppose we should be thanking you."

"That much is true," Thranduil interjected smoothly.

The blonde glared at him sulkily, but pursed her lips and swallowed whatever insult came to mind. "We'll find a way to fix him, Bilbo," she promised, but she sounded as though she were trying to assure herself more than Bilbo. "Even if I have to beat him over the head a bit," she added in a mutter. Kili snorted weakly and dragged her into a tight, protective hug. "I'm sorry I put you in this position," she whispered into his neck, arms wrapping tightly around him.

"I put myself here," Kili replied gruffly. "I couldn't let anyone hurt you – you're everything, Ovila."

Tears pricked at her eyes, but they were forced away at the sound of a war horn. "Don't tell me that's who I think it is," she groaned.

"Dain," Kili confirmed with a wince. Ovila stepped out of his embrace and bit her bottom lip. "Thorin sent word to Dain."

"Get back to Dale, both of you," Gandalf hissed. "Dain will cut you down if he sees you stood with the Elves."

"We can't just –"

"Ovila, Kili, you must, unless you want your daughter to grow without parents," Gandalf interrupted Ovila firmly. "Find her and wait until this madness has passed."

With gritted teeth and a scowl, Ovila mounted her pony. After a moment's hesitation, Kili slung himself up behind her and they sent the irritable pony galloping for Dale. They could hear Dain bellowing behind them. They could hear Thorin shouting insults after them. Kili only tightened his arms around Ovila's waist and knew it was worth it. If he had her, if had their daughter, surely it was worth it. He couldn't quite wrap his head around the daughter part of it, though. He was happy and terrified about it. He knew there were going to be consequences and trouble because the baby (Kilin, he remembered, warmth spreading through his chest, her name was Kilin) was born out of wedlock, but he knew Ovila would never have betrayed him. If she said the baby was his, then the baby was his and he had to keep them both safe, no matter what.

The howls of the orcs rang through the ruins of Dale. The monsters chased the two Dwarves on the pony and the dark haired male turned in the saddle, armed with his bow and an arrow, and fired. The arrow sunk through the eye of the closest one and the blonde female wielded an axe with one hand. As one orc attempted to grab the reins and plunge a twisted blade into her flesh, she swung her weapon with deadly precision and took off its head. The body hit the ground and the dismembered head rolled away, kicked by the orc's companions. She was sprayed with black blood, but she ignored it in favour of racing towards the markets where she'd left Kilin with Bard's children.

For all of its bad temper, the pony was more than happy to comply with Ovila's wishes when it realised its life was in danger. The beast obediently leaped over some debris and into the marketplace full of screaming humans. Behind her, Kili continued firing at the orcs stupid enough to get too close. Around them, the people of Laketown furiously tried to defend their new home and, at the sight of the battle ready Dwarves, their efforts increased with their hope. They weren't alone and that was all that they needed to know. They'd lost one home to dragon fire and destruction, they would not lose this one to orcs and blood and Ovila and Kili would not allow that to happen.

"Find high ground and shoot from there!" Ovila shouted to Kili over the cacophony of battle. "I'll take care of those on the ground!"

"I'm not leaving you again!" Kili argued. She glared at him impatiently and slammed her axe into the skull of an orc that was stupid enough to try and drag her from her mount. "Ovila, we're doing this together, or we're finding Kilin and getting out of here," Kili said firmly. "I love you and I won't leave you – not again."

"Fine, you foolish, stubborn Dwarf," Ovila bit out, turning her face away before he saw her tears. "Let's find Kilin and make sure she and Bard's children are safe."

The duo flew from the pony, blades swinging, battle cries roaring from their lips, and they moved so easily together. If there were a moment spare to observe, onlookers might have been amazed at how they seemed so in sync. They didn't need to communicate to know where the other was moving to. They just knew. They danced around each other, never once getting in the other's way, and it was deadly and beautiful all at once. Sometimes, the most beautiful things are the most deadly, but that was not a thought that any could linger on until much later when the battle was over and they had time to remember the two Dwarves that came charging to the rescue. Now was not that time.

"When this over!" Kili panted, driving his sword between the ribs of an orc. "I'm marrying you on this battlefield! I'm not waiting another day!"

Ovila laughed in disbelief and threw a small axe into the chest cavity of an enemy. "On a battlefield strewn with bodies and blood? Romantic!" she taunted with a grin. "I was expecting rose petals scattered in the aisle and a pretty dress!"

"I'm not waiting!" Kili grinned at her as she wrenched her axe free from the dead orc and took the leg off another, before slashing its throat when it toppled. "I can't wait anymore!"

"Are you two going to chat all day or actually fight?!" Bard snarled, slashing through enemies as he stormed in. "Where are the children?!" he demanded.

"We haven't found them yet!" Ovila admitted and pushed further into the market. An idea struck her suddenly and she threw a sly look at her betrothed. "Bard, as a technical king, you can perform marriages, right?!" she asked, blocking a blow from a sword and driving an axe into the waist of her enemy. The cut was deep enough to almost sever him in half.

"What?!" Bard spluttered in disbelief. "What are you talking about, Ovila?!"

"We want to get married!" Kili grinned as he ran up a ledge, leapt off the end, and managed to slam his sword through the top of an orc's skull. "Now, preferably!"

"I don't know anything about Dwarvish wedding rites!" Bard protested.

"We'll talk you through it!" Ovila laughed. Her eyes snagged on something down a street and she gritted her teeth. "Just as soon as we've dealt with the troll!"

"Troll?!"

Ovila didn't bother responding to Bard's splutter. She simply ran towards the creature with Kili hot on her heels and Bard following not far behind. When a child's scream rent the air, they only moved faster and icy fear clutched at the trio at the sight of Bard's children cowering beneath the monster. In Sigrid's arm was a howling bundle that could only be Kilin. That drew a furious howl from the female Dwarf and threw herself at the troll furiously. She slashed through its ankles, causing its legs to buckle, and then through the backs of its knees. She had to roll out of the way of its club and flattened herself against the ground to allow Bard to leap from an out of control carriage and slam a spear through the troll's chest.

"Ovila! Da!" Tilda cried, throwing herself at the Dwarf with heart wrenching sobs. "You're okay!"

"Hush, little one," Ovila said gently, but firmly. She stood and pulled Tilda up with her. "Get to the great hall – it's easily defensible and you should be safe there," she instructed and her eyes fixed on Kilin and Sigrid. Pain clutched at her heart and she longed to stay with her baby, just to make sure Kilin was safe, but her place was on the battlefield with her people. "I'll find you as soon as I'm able."

"Ovila, are you sure?" Kili murmured. "I don't want you to be torn –"

"I can keep Kilin safe by fighting," Ovila interrupted firmly. "We don't have to stand around talking."

"We'll escort you to the great hall," Bard decided. "Let's get moving, quickly, and we'll get all the women, children, and crippled there."

"That would be best," Ovila agreed with a sharp nod of her head. "Let's move."

Kili, for his part, couldn't tear his eyes away from the baby that Sigrid clutched protectively. The baby was screaming at the top of her lungs, no matter what Sigrid did, and only began to silence when Ovila reached out with a gentle hand and stroked her fingertips down the babe's cheek with a soft murmur. The baby hiccupped and reached for her desperately, but, with obvious reluctance, Ovila didn't take her. Kili just stared at the sight. His heart thudded in his chest and it had very little to do with fear, but that fizzed in his blood too, just not for the orcs. All he could see and all he could focus on was the tiny being that was made from the love that he and Ovila shared.

Kilin.

He wanted to hold her and look at her and see all the things that Ovila had described to him in her rushed, fearful tone. He wanted to see if she really did look like him, but had Ovila's nose. He wanted to discover how it felt to hold his child in his arms. His daughter. He had to win this fight for her. He had to win so that she could grow in Erebor and be safe and happy and whole with all that she deserved and she deserved the world. He'd give her everything he had and more, if it killed him. He'd make this world a safe place for her. He'd never let her fight in wars like he and Ovila were. He couldn't, or he just might die of worry. It was bad enough she was here in an orc invaded city of ruin.

"Kili, look!" Ovila suddenly cried, staring down at the battlefield. "It's Thorin and the others!" she laughed, relief flooding her voice. "He's back!"

"I should join them," Kili realised, even as he cast a longing look at his daughter. The baby he had yet to hold. "Get them to safety and I'm sure you'll disregard everything I tell you and join us," he grinned and yanked Ovila into a swift, hard kiss. "Be careful."

"You too," Ovila whispered fiercely. "Now, about that wedding on a battlefield of bodies…"

"Thorin can perform the ceremony," Kili winked and turned to Sigrid and Kilin. "I'll see you very soon," he whispered to the baby and kissed her forehead, breathing in the smell of her. She smelt like Ovila. Big brown, wet eyes stared up at him, tears clinging to long, sooty eyelashes, and she had a head of thick, dark hair already, but her jaw was soft and bare, just like Ovila's. "Very soon," he promised and forced himself to run.

With every footstep, it hurt more and the sinking feeling in his gut only grew.

Thorin was sound of mind once more and guilt threatened to cripple him. How could he have done that to Kili? To Ovila? To Bilbo? He had sworn to never let the sickness take him like it had his grandfather and, yet, it had. It had stolen his mind and his senses and left him seeing enemies at every turn. In his delusions, he'd attacked those that had only ever been loyal to him and now Kili and Ovila were nowhere to be found. He had to find them and make sure they were still alive. The last thing he remembered was screaming insults after them as they escaped towards Dale, but Dale was currently overrun with orcs. Now, he knew that they could hold their own against a couple of orcs, but that didn't dislodge the unease in his gut. It didn't remove the heavy guilt that weighed down his shoulders and left him having a little difficulty lifting his sword. What had he done? He was lucky that the others hadn't stormed out of Erebor and abandoned him for his actions, as he'd done if anyone else had acted in that manner.

There was a blur of dark, tangled hair and an orc blood soaked sword and then Kili was stood in front of him, big grin in place, utterly unconcerned. "I'm a father!" he cried happily.

For a second, the battle seemed to melt away and everyone around him just stared at him.

"Ovila had a baby and she's mine and she's perfect! Her name's Kilin!" he gushed delightedly, even as he slammed his sword into the chest of an orc and kicked the body away from him. "I'm marrying Ovila the second this is all over!"

"Baby?" Thorin echoed. "You have a baby?"

"Uh huh!" Kili grinned widely, nodding his head enthusiastically. "Just wait until you see her, uncle!"

"I told you! I told you this would happen!" Fili exploded, waving his sword at his brother furiously. "Didn't I tell you?!"

"We'll talk about this later!" Thorin barked, struggling to get his head around this new information. "But, you are right about one thing, Kili," Thorin scowled. Kili gulped and shifted back slightly. "You will be marrying Ovila the second that this is all over."

A sunny grin filled Kili's face and he saluted happily, before diving into battle with a furious war cry. He was still grinning, Thorin realised. For some reason, Thorin was almost certain that there was very little that would get that ridiculous grin off of Kili's face. He was faced with an army of orcs and he was dancing around like a child during Yuletide about to be handed presents and sweets and cake. The discovery of his fatherhood had left him giddy and excited and it brought the tiniest smile to Thorin's face, even though he knew he should be disapproving of the situation. Kili and Ovila had never been one to follow the rules, however. They did what they wanted, when they wanted, and held little fear for the consequences. He still felt guilty for forcing them apart for as long as he did.

It was only going to be a matter of time before Ovila decided to join them, Thorin had no doubt about that. She'd followed Kili all the way here, pregnant, and she wouldn't let him fight without her for very long, but perhaps she wouldn't want to leave the child. The thought baffled him and momentarily distracted him, forcing him to be saved by Nori before his head was taken off. He nodded his thanks to the former thief and redirected his focus on the battle, all the while searching for Azog the Defiler. The death of that monster was going to be left to him and him alone and he was going to make sure the job was done properly this time. He'd cleave the bastard's head off and carve its black heart out of its chest, just to make sure it was well and truly dead.

A war scream suddenly echoed in Thorin's ears and there she was – a warrior that they almost didn't have. Ovila Warg Slayer launched herself from the back of an ill-tempered pony and landed on the back of an orc ready to cleave Ori in two. Her smaller axe drove into the neck of the orc and the thing choked and collapsed to the ground, black blood gushing from its throat to stain the earth. Remarkably, she landed on her feet and tossed her hair out of her fierce, blazing eyes. Thorin was struck by the relief that she was on their side, especially when she and Kili teamed up to bring down a larger than normal orc that stood twice their height. She went for its legs, while Kili fired arrows into its vulnerable spots and left it dead and unmoving on the ground.

"Thorin, glad to see you're back," Ovila nodded, voice breathless. "We'll talk about the arrow later," she decided, throwing an axe into the face of an orc. "When we're not so busy."

Kili and Fili barked out laughs and she flashed him a cheeky grin and a wink, before flinging herself into battle once more. Ori rushed to her side, grinning like a child seeing a favourite aunt, and she laughed brightly. The sound was so odd on the battlefield, but it made a small smile tilt Thorin's lips. Ovila Warg Slayer was never going to change. She was bright and happy and fierce and he prayed that she always stayed that way. She and Kili were fighting with him – for him – as though he hadn't shot an arrow at her head with the intention to kill. Only Kili shoving her forcefully to the ground kept her alive. She'd been too stunned and betrayed by his actions to react at all.

"Thorin!" Kili shouted over the carnage. Concerned, Thorin's eyes snapped to his youngest nephew and blinked at the sight of his grin as he and Ovila stood, hands joined, over the corpses of some orcs. "We want to be wed now! If you wouldn't mind doing the honours!"

Thorin blinked and then blinked again and finally sighed. "Fine," he agreed through gritted teeth. They both grinned broadly and separated only to push back some advancing enemies. "Kili, wilt thou take Ovila to be thy wife and wilt thou pledge thy faith to her, in all love and honour, in all duty and service, in all faith and tenderness, to live with her and cherish her in name of our makers in the sacred bond of marriage?" he demanded, thrusting his sword into the abdomen of an orc.

"I will!" Kili agreed giddily, grinning widely.

"And, Ovila, do you agree the same?" Thorin asked hastily, leaping back to avoid the falling corpse of an orc.

"I suppose I do!" she laughed brightly, eyes shining.

"Then remove your courting clasps from your hair and connect them to demonstrate this sacred bond," Thorin commanded. He watched the rest of the company dive in to circle them while they struggled to remove the clasps from their hair. It was a testament to their braids that the hair didn't immediately unravel upon the removal of the clasps roughly hewn with their names. They easily snapped the clasps together, grins almost blinding. "By the power of the King of Erebor, King Thorin II, I declare you legally wed!" Thorin announced in a booming voice, unable to contain smile when the couple kissed with wide grins on their faces. "Now, might I ask you two, Fili, and Dwalin to join me on Ravenhill where Azog awaits?"

Ovila's grin was directed at him and her eyes gleamed. "I thought you'd never ask."

The wedding vows aren't mine – they were taken from a vows website, but I can't actually remember which one it is.

I know the chapters seem rushed, but I'm so close to the finish line that I want to get them all out and then, if I really, really hate them, I'll go back over them and maybe neaten them up a bit. Hope you're enjoying anyhow!