I stared at him, frozen in horror. A strange ringing filled my ears, and suddenly I was sixteen years old again, standing before the dwarf king Thror as my father tried to acquire his riches. The same dark, glittering cloud hung about Thorin's hunched figure. His eyes met mine, and the deadened look he gave me send a bolt of awareness through my body. I turned and ran, sprinting up the stone staircases as swiftly as my legs could carry me.

My mind blanked, engulfed by panic. The only thought in my head: RUN.

One.

The next was completely black; no lamps hung there.

Two.

I broke into light once again and squinted against it.

Three.

"Aeyera!" I didn't stop but darted to my left down a long hallway. Heavy footsteps thundered after me, as well as an occasional grunt of pain. "Aeyera, stop!"

I hurtled down a side path, leaping over scorched pieces of rubble. Beams of light crossed my path; I must have been nearer to the surface than I had thought. I burst through a side door and threw myself against the wall, chest heaving. My fingers were splayed out on the stone.

I couldn't see Thorin or the others. I had to leave. I bent over, breathing heavily. I fisted the fabric covering my knees, wiping off the sweat on my palms. My breathing came easier now, although my throat had begun to hurt.

When I finally caught my breath, I looked up. I gasped, a horrible, strangled intake of air that scraped at my throat. My mind blanked. My knees slammed into the stone, and I sat there, bent over with my hands before me, nails digging into the stone as I choked down a scream.

The room was full of skeletons. All were still clothed and had hair and beards sprouting from their skulls. Dwarf and elf alike sat huddled along the edges of the room. Some clung to each other while others lay flat on the ground. None were burned. A sob rose in my throat and mingled with the scream that had lodged there. These were my people, the ones who had followed me and not made it out of the mountain. I bowed my head and gritted my teeth, hyperventilating and struggling to keep from bursting into hysterics. I never meant for anyone to die. Not here. Not in this place, shut off from the light and the air and the stars. Hot tears began to roll down my face and drip from my nose and chin to the ground.

"…Aeyera?" Kili's hesitant, strong voice filled the room. A scraping sound reached my ears, as well as the sound of fingertips brushing the stone. I heard the soft clink of something metal hitting the ground. I guessed that he had picked up some trinket from among the dust and had then dropped it. "These were your people, weren't they?" he asked softly. He knelt in front me and placed his hand gently under my chin. I lifted my face and opened my eyes, staring straight into his. "It's not your fault, my dear," he told me softly. He brushed away a loose strand of hair as I began to cry harder, and he pulled me carefully into his arms. I curled into him, fisting his tunic as I wept. His lips were pressed against my forehead and his hands gripped my shoulder and arm.

"It feels like it is my fault," I cried softly. "It has been nearly two hundred years, but I didn't—" I choked. "I did not know. I thought they all made it home!"

He held me tighter, rubbing my back soothingly as I began weeping anew into his tunic, whispering comforting words into my hair. "Shh, you're alright. It's not your fault. I love you. You're going to be alright. I love you."

After a long time, my tears ceased. I sat up, rubbing the grit from my eyes with the heels of my hands. When I looked over at him, I found him already watching me, a slight smile gracing his lips.

"What is it?" I asked softly, gently twisting my hair over one shoulder.

He laughed gently. His thumb stroked my cheek, and I leaned into his touch, closing my eyes. "You're so beautiful," he whispered.

I opened my eyes and smiled back slightly, then leaned in and embraced him. His arms wrapped around me tightly and he held me there for a long time. I realized then that this was the safest I had ever felt. I wanted nothing more than to remain in his arms forever. I could feel his heart beating against his ribcage, and I realized again how fortunate I was that he was here, alive. A shudder ran through me when I thought of how he had died days before, only to be brought back. I gripped him tighter, and he responded in kind. I never wanted to let him go. Perhaps we could stay here, eyes shut against the rest of the world, alone together in silence, embracing one another until the end of time.

Alas, it could not be. Several pairs of boots could be heard on the stone, and we stood up together, still facing the room. We stepped apart as the voices grew nearer, silently deciding to stay here instead of coming up with another story when we were found. The dwarves searching for us were bickering, arguing back and forth as they searched from room to room.

"Where are they?"

"I think they went this way."

"They disappeared hours ago, how could you possibly know where they went?"

"I can hear them!"

"You're deaf, ye old—"

"What?"

Just then, Bilbo's shaggy head appeared in the doorway, followed by the rest of him. "Oh, there you are!" he exclaimed, obviously relieved. "We've been searching for hours!"

"Hours?" I repeated softly, glancing at my fiancé. Kili shrugged. It hadn't felt like hours to me.

"Oin, Bofur, I found them!" Bilbo called. He turned back to us, furry feet fidgeting on the stone. "Have… have you been in here this whole time?" he asked. I nodded and crossed my arms over my chest, training my eyes on the hobbit and refusing to look at anything else. I watched as Bilbo's eyes moved from the two of us to the rest of the room. He blanched and leapt back, colliding with Oin and Bofur. "What—?" he squeaked, looking like he was about to faint.

Kili sighed, looking decades older. "They were our people," he said softly. "Mine and hers. They perished here many years ago."

"'Her people…'" Bilbo repeated softly. "But I thought they escaped to Rivendell?"

"Not all were so fortunate," I murmured. I could feel my hands begin to tremble, and I stepped forward. Kili placed a comforting hand on my back, holding me up. "Let us go," I said louder, sweeping towards the door. "I look forward to seeing the rest of the company."

"Wait!" Bilbo leapt in front of doorway, barring my path.

I frowned down at him, crossing my arms. "Bilbo?"

He cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. "It might not be the… best idea if you went out there right now…" he trailed off.

"Why not?" Kili asked. We stood shoulder to shoulder, and his fingers brushed against mine, sending jolts of electricity up my arm and spine.

Bilbo sighed. I realized how small he was, and how much smaller he must have felt in this great mountain. He was the only one, other than I, who was guaranteed to be untouched by the sickness here. Which reminded me why I ran here in the first place. I couldn't face Thorin. Not here. I had to keep Kili and Fili safe. "It's Thorin, he… well, you saw him in the treasure hoard. He barely eats, he doesn't sleep, he—"

"Why?" I pressed. A slight color filled his cheeks. "Bilbo, what is wrong?"

"It's… it's the Arkenstone," he said finally. His tone twitched, and he rubbed it with the back of his hand. His other hand went to rest in his pocket. He looked as though he wanted nothing more than to disappear. "He can't find it, so he has everyone out looking for it. He won't rest until it's found, and he won't allow the others to either." He paused, distressed. "I wanted you to leave, Aeyera. I tried to tell you. He's seen you now. Can't you go? I don't want you getting sick as well, with whatever he's got."

I knelt down until the hobbit and I were eye-to-eye. "Master Baggins," I told him softly. "I have sworn to protect Thorin Oakenshield and his kin. He does not own me, and he does not own you. But all the same, I stay out of love and duty. I will not leave him. Them." I paused for a moment, letting the gravity of the situation settle over those remaining. His brow furrowed. The rest of the dwarves filed out, talking and heading towards the main hall once more. I stood, and Bilbo led me out. Instead of following them down to the vault, however, we went up, passing through darkened rooms and passages to numerous to count. We did not speak a word the whole time but walked in silence, enjoying the other's company.

We finally exited the mountain, entering onto a small plateau. The cold wind whipped my hair around, and I took a deep breath, relieved to be outside. I turned back to the hobbit, who had seated himself on the crumbling edge of a wall. "You have not sworn to die for them, so don't. Leave now, Bilbo Baggins. Go back to your armchair, and your books, and your garden. Leave before it is too late."

He gazed at me for a long moment, searching my face for some explanation. The hurt in his eyes cut at my heart. I did not want him to think that I did not believe in him—I did! But I did not want to see him hurt. Finally he spoke. "I am not afraid of Thorin."

The memory of the shadow covering Thror at our meeting resurfaced, and I shuddered. I recalled the enraged look that crossed his face. I remembered the anger that had taken hold of Thorin even then at the suggestion that he part with any treasure, and I thought of the look in his eyes only hours before: an insane, obsessive, haunted look that seemed almost… dead. I remembered the darkness hovering around him in the vault. He seemed too gone to be alive.

I looked Bilbo in the eye, placing my hand on his shoulder and squeezing it gently. "You should be."

Bilbo cocked his head to one side, a horrified understanding dawning in his eyes. He blinked once. "Aeyera, what is this?" he whispered. "What has taken ahold of him?"

I swallowed. "I have an idea, but… suffice it to say that it will corrupt his heart until all traces of who he once was are gone."

He looked terrified, and he glanced around quickly. "Well, should we do something?"

I shook my head, a feeling of hopelessness settling over me. "Bilbo, I do not know what we can do short of leaving the mountain."

Bilbo went, if possible, even paler. "He… he is looking for the Arkenstone; that is why he is as… lost… as he is; if it were to be found—the Arkenstone—would it help? Would it save him?" The poor hobbit looked desperate.

A heavy weight seemed to settle on my heart, and I shook my head. "No, Bilbo. I fear it would only seal his fate."

The poor hobbit looked crestfallen, and before I could ask him why, he reached a small hand inside of his tunic and pulled something out. I could not tell what it was, since his hands covered it, but I had a guess, and fear grew in my heart. I knew what would happen if the hobbit held the Arkenstone. If I knew for sure and said nothing, I would be betraying Thorin. My father would get what he wanted. "Aeyera, I need to tell you that I f—"

"Stop!" I yelped, leaping back. He jumped, startled, and pulled whatever it was he held closer to his chest. "Bilbo, whatever it is you hold, you cannot show it to me. If it is indeed the stone, I would be committing treason by not alerting Thorin. If not… I cannot risk it. I cannot allow my father to divide our company."

"What do you mean?" Bilbo asked curiously. He slipped the object into his coat once again, and I looked away until it was hidden.

"You were in his palace, were you not?" I asked. He nodded. "I was as well. I was tortured every night as Thranduil tried time after time to make me betray the company. If I were to find out information on the stone and withhold it, I would be a traitor. Do you understand, Bilbo? I cannot give in to Thranduil's wishes. I went through too much to end here."

He nodded slowly, looking crestfallen but thoughtful. "I understand, Princess," he said softly. "I will not let your pain be in vain, I promise. And I in turn will do whatever I can to protect Thorin from danger, even if it means that he no longer sees me as a friend."

I reached over and gripped his shoulder tightly, tears springing to my eyes. I hadn't known I had any more tears left to cry, but I supposed that I did. "Master Baggins," I said kindly. "You are without a doubt the bravest hobbit I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. Thorin is lucky to have a friend such as you." I embraced him tightly, and he hugged me back, his arms too short to wrap around me like mine could him. "As am I," I whispered.

I pulled away and pushed some of the hobbit's shaggy, curly hair out of his eyes. "What does this mean?" he asked, pointing to my braid.

I reached up and touched it, then ran my fingers along it, taking in its beautiful intricacy. When my fingers came to a rest on the bead at the end, I spoke. "It is a courtship braid," I told him softly.

"You're engaged?" Bilbo started, eyes wide. "Why that's—that's amazing, Aeyera. To Kili?" his eyes glimmered with amusement and hope.

I chuckled as a grin spread across my face, stretching my cheeks. "Aye, Master Baggins. To Kili."

"I knew it," he muttered happily to himself. "All that time you two spent talking and bickering like some old married couple—I knew it was only a matter of time before he proposed!" I laughed as the once rigid hobbit carried on like a little boy. He stopped suddenly. "Does Thorin know?" Bilbo asked.

I sucked in a breath. "I do not know. And you cannot tell him, Bilbo. Do not go sharing it with the others either. Kili and I must be the ones to tell him, understand?"

He nodded vigorously. "Of course, Princess," he told me seriously. "Because you'll be the princess of Erebor too, won't you?"

I hadn't thought of that in quite a while. "I suppose. Bilbo, you know that is not a reason for me marrying Kili, don't you?"

He nodded. "I was only teasing, Aeyera," he clarified. "You travelled who knows how long with the rangers, if the stories I heard as a wee-lad were true. Stories of a beautiful elf maid who fought alongside the rangers!" He chuckled. "You lived for a long time with nothing after willingly giving up everything. I doubt you would decide now to abandon all your morality."

For a brief moment I thought he had said "immortality," and I started, afraid. How could he know of what I did? A second later his real meaning hit, and I smiled peaceably at him, letting out a breath I hadn't realized I had been holding. "Thank you, Bilbo."

I stood and brushed myself off, shaking the stiffness from my limbs. "We cannot linger out here," I told him softly, taking his hand and pulling him to his feet.

"Why not?" he asked. "I like it better out here than I do in there. My head is… clearer, out here. It's like I'm in Mirkwood again. Whenever you're under the trees, your head is filled with cobwebs, and you can't think—but as soon as you break through the trees, all darkness vanishes, and you can think again." He sighed. "Whenever I'm in the mountain, I feel like I'm trapped in that forsaken forest once again. I would love to make my bed up here under the stars where I can think."

I shivered. I did not need that comparison to be made; suddenly I was even less eager to reenter the mountain. I steeled myself, however, because my knowledge of the world overcame my fear. "I understand, Bilbo, and I agree. The air in Erebor is dank with smoke and death, and the magic there is made to cloud one's mind and obscure one's judgment. However, we cannot stay whilst it is dark. Night is falling, and many foul creatures have eyes better suited than mine for seeing through the darkness."

With one last furtive glance at the ever-darkening landscape, I turned and plunged back into the mountain. I was unable to shake the knowledge that Erebor, for all its brilliance and might, was a tomb. Nothing could survive there. And I made a decision then, that no matter what, I would get Kili and Fili out of here; Thorin too, if I could manage it. I had not travelled this far to fail because of a bit of worthless steel that had ensnared his thoughts.

I made up my mind. I would save them—all of them, if I could. But my heart broke with the knowledge that not everyone could be saved. And Thorin… I didn't think I was strong enough to combat the greed, anger, and lust that had taken over his heart and mind.