Beth was probably going to lose her shit. Thorin had flat out refused to trade for the Arkenstone because it was stolen and his anyway and he did not believe he should trade for it. Dain's army had arrived and the three races were trying to parlay. Only it wasn't going so well. Why did people always have to fight over things live overgrown toddlers? Why can't we all just get along?

And suddenly both sides were charging at each other, the elves and men versus the dwarven host. Beth sighed, and started glumly marching forward as bodies ran around her into the action. Gandalf was beside her and the pair noticed a rapid darkness creeping into the sky.

"Gandalf, what is that?" she asked worriedly.

Gandalf did not answer her but called out in a demanding voice "Halt!" When the armies continued marching forward he projected again, "HALT."

A shock wave burst from him, stumbling the armies and making them pay attention. Beth supposed he must have used his wizard magic to project his speech. "Dread has come upon you all! Alas! It has come more swiftly than I guessed. The Goblins are upon you! Bolg of the North is coming. O Dain, whose father you slew in Moria, behold! The bats are above his army like a sea of locusts. They ride upon wolves and wargs are in their train!"

The armies looked up in confusion and dread, watching the sky blacken and a dark force rise over the horizon towards them. Well, if anything can unite them all, this is it, Beth reasoned. In a move of bravery (stupidity, she'd call it later), Beth pulled one of the swords off her side (because, let's face it, she had no idea how to use two at the same time) and let out a battle cry so fierce it surprised everyone who saw her do it. She charged forward to the oncoming force of evil as they had been charging before. The act seemed to shake the soldiers out of their stupor and inspired, charged forward with her.

It was during this great, terrible battle that Beth learned she knew very little about fighting indeed and was very glad for her swiftness and Mithril armour. During the whole thing she had been scared out of her mind and had worked on only keeping herself alive. She had no idea where Bilbo was, or any of her other friends for that matter. At some point she had fallen back far enough that she was relatively close to the mountain again. She saw some dwarves come out of the mountain and felt her heart rate spike at the thought of even more of her friends being in danger.

"The eagles are coming!" the crowd around her started to cheer. She looked up herself to see in the sky their feathered allies indeed on their way to save them. She couldn't help but grin. Maybe she would get to see her eagle friend again.

With renewed vigour, Beth leapt forwards in determination to find anyone she knew, if only for her own piece of mind. But in her quest to find a familiar face, she spotted an unfriendly one first. The white head of Azog loomed over a figure…Thorin's figure, to be precise. Beth started running forwards but watched in horror as Thorin was knocked down, seemingly having the wind forced out of his lungs. The moment Azog lifted the club above his head to swing at Thorin Beth leapt forward to close the remaining distance between them and managed to slice into the uruk's side, effectively buying Thorin enough time to get out of the way.

Beth had the wind knocked out of her as well, falling on her stomach from flying through the air to deliver her attack. Azog was glaring at her before she could even scramble up and away.

"YOU!" he hollered and swung his club at her. Beth screamed and rolled away just in time to avoid the crushing blow, tripping over herself in an attempt to get back on her feet. That was a thing she learned today: your chances are better if you're on your feet. Thorin chose this moment to pounce on Azog, effectively stabbing him in the stomach while he was distracted. Beth didn't get to see what happened however, as she was engaged by another enemy trying to take her head off.

It felt to Beth as though they had been fighting for days and her body, mind, and heart felt wearier every time she caught sight of a corpse as she struggled to save her own life. Suddenly she felt shock course through her as her shoulders were gripped and she was hoisted up into the air and dropped unceremoniously onto the back of an eagle.

"This is not quite how I had hoped our next meeting would go," the eagle under her confessed.

"Oh, thank goodness!" Beth cried, leaning her body on his back. "I was beginning to wonder if I'd live to see you again!"

"You did look in need of assistance," he told her.

"I do!" she laughed. "Now come on, we have to find my friends and make sure they're not in too much trouble. Your keen eyes should spot them!"

And that's how Beth spent the rest of the Battle of Five Armies—on the back of a giant eagle which she would later find out was the one and only King of Eagles. He aided her in finding her friends, and swooping in to take out any opposing force they had been dealing with. There was even a very close encounter with all three of the Durin's that they had managed to rectify not a second too soon.

Beorn himself arrived to finish the battle, arriving in his bear form and clearing the field of enemies faster than anything she had ever seen. Only one thing truly troubled her.

She never was able to spot Bilbo.

When their victory became apparent, the eagle let Beth down in the middle of what she could only describe as total chaos. She thanked her eagle friend again and bid him to see his own people. And then she turned and took in the carnage.

It was more gruesome than any horror movie she had ever seen. It smelled worse than anything she had ever been in the middle of before. It was more theatrical and huge and awful than any war time painting that had ever been made. Hundreds of bodies littered the hills in a random mix of men and elves and dwarves and goblins and orcs and limbs and puddles. Endless. Some survivors still in the area shuffled aimlessly, others finding and aiding the wounded. Beth knew if she didn't continue to help, she'd end up one of those aimless souls who were only there to search for the bodies of those they knew and loved.

Spotting a pair of men holding a stretcher, the hobbit ran over to them, taking note that one of them was the guard who had found her and Bilbo their first night in the camp. She was both relieved and unnerved that the dwarf on the stretcher was one she didn't recognise.

"Hey!" she called, "wait up!"

"My lady," greeted the guard. "I'm glad to have found you. We have orders to find you and your brother immediately."

Beth straightened, worrying. "Why?"

"King Thorin," the guard began. "He—"

Beth cut him off. "Where is he?" she asked suddenly.

The man had barely enough time to point her in the right direction before the girl fled towards the tent he was pointing at in the distance. Beth, assuming the worst, used the last bit of energy she had in her to propel herself forward faster than she had ever run in her life; faster than when she had been running from a dragon, even. When she reached the tent she took no time to push her way inside and found it quite a bit more crowded than she had anticipated. Though undeterred, she shoved through until she saw the back of the tent.

And like her worst nightmare coming true, Fili and Kili stood at the foot of the cot Thorin lay on with sullen expressions on their faces. And there was Thorin, pale as a ghost and unmoving. She was stopped dead in her tracks, feeling like all the air had been pushed out of her lungs all at once.

Kili looked up at the sound of her forced exhale and opened his mouth. A huge gash covered the right side of his face from his nose to his earlobe and he was covered in gore. Fili looked up to see what his brother had spotted and relief washed over his face. He too was covered in blood but aside from his arm in a sling, she could see no extreme marks on him. Fili walked forward to embrace her, but ended up catching her with his one good arm as she crumbled, Kili coming to their aid.

Her face must have displayed her obvious anguish because she found herself being held by Kili (who had use of both his arms) as she trembled. "I—I'm so glad you're alive," she managed to squeeze out even though the tears had already started streaming down her face. "I—I still don't know where Bilbo is," she confessed, her voice raising slightly in pitch trying not to full on sob. "I don't think I could have taken your losses as well as Thorin." And then she started bawling.

Beth had been sandwiched in between the two dwarves in a ring of comfort and she cried freely into Kili's shoulder. She wasn't wailing like a banshee, thankfully, but her nose did start running and she was shaking worse than a house broken chihuahua.

"I'm not dead yet. You can't get rid of me that easily." The voice made her head snap up fast enough to butt Kili in the jaw and make him stumble back, leaving Beth to crumple to her knees in front of Thorin's cot. The dwarven king turned his head to look at her (his head was one of the few things he could move without hurting), as she sat stunned on the floor beside him.

After a moment of stunned silence and staring straight into his eyes she scrambled to her knees and almost threw herself at him before she realized he was probably in a delicate state. She settled for awkwardly kneeling in front of him and grasping the one hand he had reached out to her. Neither of them could find words, instead basking in the comfort of the other's presence. Fili and Kili, sensing the intimacy of the moment, departed to hopefully find their other hobbit.

"You're hurt," Thorin said finally.

Beth couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up in her throat at the irony. Sure, she had sustained her fair share of cuts and bruises. She was sure the reason she couldn't open her left eye was because it was swollen shut and probably purple. Not to mention the multitude of cuts littering her skin, all superficial but painful nonetheless. She was sure the combination of her strong armour and her swiftness was the only reason she was still alive. That, and she didn't attract much attention after her diamonds had been covered with blood.

"I'm fine," she said softly.

"I was wrong."

She sniffed, with tears streaming down her face. The last time they had this conversation it was Beth they all thought they had lost. "I know," she choked out.

"I broke my promise," he said.

"I know," she whimpered again, burying her face in the hands that held Thorin's.

"You saved me," he whispered. "Twice." When Beth didn't raise her head, he continued. "Once on the back of a great eagle, like what the songs will say some day." She giggled a little through her sniffles. "And once before that, when you left me in the mountain." Beth looked up at that remark, confusion plain on her face as she searched his eyes. "I nearly lost myself to the gold, and for that I have no way to tell you how sorry I am. But I did lose myself when Bilbo told us you left. It took me losing you to realize what was truly important in this world and I am ashamed it took me so long to realize it."

Beth sniffed again at the thought of not knowing where Bilbo was. "Did he cower?" she asked.

Thorin smirked a little. "No, you would have been proud at the speech he gave me. He let me know I was being a right troll and how you leaving was all my fault. I've never seen the poor hobbit so worked up." His smirk dropped into a sullen frown. "He loves you and cares for you very much. I will not be offended if you decide to leave for home with him when this is all done."

Beth took her time, effectively making Thorin nervous. "Do you love me?" she finally asked.

"Yes," he answered without hesitation.

Beth searched his eyes and face for any hint of a lie or uncertainty but all she saw was pure determination and, well, love. "Well then I'm already home," she told him.

By the time Bilbo was found out in the battlefield (still invisible. No wonder he hadn't been found sooner!) and brought to the medical tent, the night had passed and the sun was shining again. Bilbo thought it sort of looked like a mockery to all the gore that still covered the slopes and hills. Gandalf took Bilbo to the medical tent, and Bilbo feared the worst.

Of course, he was met by the best possible sight he could have imagined. Well, not best, but certainly better than what he had been imagining. Among a few bustling helpers tending to the wounded, Bilbo spotted the cot tucked into the back corner of the medical tent. Beth was sitting up, her back supported by nothing but a tent pole and her head drooped slightly to one side in sleep. Thorin was also on the cot, his head rested comfortably in her lap. Their armour was strewn onto the floor and Bilbo could see some of the damage done to their persons, including the black eye Beth was sporting, but they were both alive and breathing.

Bilbo let out his own breath of relief he hadn't realized he was holding. Beth opened her eyes at the unfamiliar sound and blinked until they were focused.

"Bilbo?" she asked, seemingly unsure.

The hobbit needed no more coaxing and he rushed to embrace his sister, both of them careful not to disturb the sleeping king. They pulled back, grinning at each other from ear to ear. Beth reached out and pinched his ear.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"You know very well what," she said sharply.

Bilbo rolled his eyes but couldn't help but smile. "Yes, yes, never scare you like that again. I'm sorry, but we happened to be fighting a war and I couldn't exactly be in plain sight, you know."

Beth sighed heavily and was about to concede when Thorin asked hoarsely from the tendrils of sleep, "Mr. Baggins?"

"Ye—yes?" Bilbo asked, still weary of the dwarf since he has cast him out of the mountain.

"Thank you," Thorin stated simply.

A change seemed to come over Bilbo and Beth watched in awe as he seemed to straighten and gain a confidence unfounded in him before. "You're welcome. Despite past arguments, I can genuinely say I am glad to have been part of this adventure. It is more than any Baggins deserves."

"No," said Thorin. "There is more good and bravery in you than you know. Some courage and some wisdom, blended in measure. If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world. And I strive to be more like you, Bilbo Baggins."

Oh no. She was going to cry. Some tears welled up in Bilbo's eyes as well and her lip trembled. But he didn't let any of the drops spill and said, "Well, you'll have Beth to keep you on the right track."

"Yes," Thorin answered, looking up at her. "It is more than I deserve."

Beth sniffled and shook her head. "I'm not going to argue that."

The days following were long and full of hard labour for those able to help. Men, elves, and dwarves alike spent their hours moving bodies to one of the great funeral pyres scattered amongst the hills. Already inside the mountain, dwarves had set to work restoring the great halls and homes of Erebor and Beth saw to it personally that the treasure had been appropriately divided and handed out. Thorin slowly became stronger, but the great wound along his back made moving a difficult task.

After the second day, Beth had given up correcting those who called her "My Queen" and begrudgingly accepted the title that she'd later be forced to wear anyway. She spent countless tireless hours arranging a truce between the elves and dwarves, assisting Bard with his plans to reconstruct Dale, and overseeing everything that had to do with the kingdom.

Her kingdom.

There was always time, however, to find Thorin before her weariness caught up to her. So slipping into the newly restored royal chambers and into the plush bed had become ritual. He accepted her into his arms and pulled her as close as his fragile body allowed. She snuggled into his warmth with a sigh and buried her face into his neck.

"Do you think I'll ever get used to it?" she asked him.

Thorin didn't need to be told what she was asking about. In fact, it was he who encouraged her to take the reins and guide their people. He had no doubts she was doing a spectacular job. "You have a natural ability to lead," he told her. "But I still see you squirm every time someone calls you queen."

"It just sounds so haughty," she defended.

Thorin chuckled, planting a quick kiss on her forehead. "Just imagine when they have our kingdom remade. You will have to wear fancy dresses and mingle with the upper class and delegates," he teased. Thorin chuckled as her face scrunched up. "I jest. You will need to do these things, of course, but I have no doubt in my mind you will do so in a manner that quite suits you."

"It's almost done," she told him after a moment. "The bodies are burned, accounts are settled, Erebor is almost restored. The elves and men are leaving tomorrow morning. Dwarves from the Blue Mountains are travelling back to their home. Our adventure is over, Thorin."

"No," he corrected her with a kiss. "This quest is over, and I am glad to see it done. Our adventure, my treasure, had only just begun."