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Cheyanne did train. She trained hard. She worked with Kili on using a bow, worked with Dwalin and Thorin on swordsmanship, and Fili even taught her a few tricks involving daggers. By the time she couldn't train any longer, it felt like her feet were heavy weights. She could barely walk.

Somehow, she made it up the stairs to Thorin's bedchamber and slumped into one of the arm chairs in front of the barren fireplace. Groaning, she made herself stand long enough to light a fire before she sank back down into the armchair again and thought about what she and Bilbo were planning on doing, rolling the bead in her braid nervously between her fingers.

She and Bilbo had come up with a plan to get him out of Erebor without anyone knowing, and then safely back in when he had taken the Arkenstone to Bard and Thranduil. She was supposed to distract Thorin, because he was the one who stayed up later than the others. While she had Thorin, Bilbo would climb down the mountain, hurry to Dale, hand over the Arkenstone, and run back.

How she was supposed to distract Thorin was the issue Cheyanne was dealing with.

She dropped her braid as the door began to open. Thorin appeared, sleek with sweat. His eyes widened when he saw her sitting in one of the armchairs by the fireplace, but he smiled.

"Have you been waiting up here long?" he questioned, closing the door and walking further into the room.

"No," Cheyanne answered, rising. She went over to him and used her sleeve to wipe away some of the dampness on his forehead. "You're disgusting," she told him with a frown.

Thorin laughed. "Yes, that's typically what happens when you spend the whole day fighting dwarves." He began to peel off his sweaty shirt but stopped when he met her gaze. "Apologies," he said. "I'll be back in a moment."

He disappeared into the closet, and Cheyanne panicked. She quickly scurried over to the door and sat down in front of it, blocking its outward swing to open. She waited in silence for a minute, and then the door banged against her back.

"Cheyanne?" Thorin called through the door.

"Yes?" she asked innocently.

"What is blocking the door?" Thorin queried.

"That would be me."

"Why?"

Cheyanne searched her brain for a sensual response, but all she could come up with was, "I don't want you to come out."

Thorin paused. "Why not?" he asked after a moment.

Cheyanne squeezed her eyes shut and blurted, "I don't have my shirt on." She cursed herself under her breath as soon as the words came out of her mouth.

Thorin was silent for a long moment. "Put it back on, then," he said at last.

"I-I am," Cheyanne said, "but I can't put it on and hold the door shut at the same time."

"I won't try to open it until you tell me too," Thorin told her.

"Do you promise?" Cheyanne questioned, glancing around the room desperately for another distraction.

"Of course."

Her eyes landed on the bed. "A-Alright! Hold on!" she responded, moving away from the door. "Just... Putting my shirt back on!" She moved over to the bed and pulled off all the blankets, flinging them around the room in many different directions. "Now I'm putting on my vest!" She yanked the pillows away as well and shoved them under the bed before she let out a puff of air and pushed her hair back. "You can come out now."

The closet door was opened by a grinning Thorin, whose grin dropped immediately when he saw the blankets all over the room. Cheyanne held out her arms in confusion. "I know, I don't get it either. It just... Happened."

Thorin gave her a look and moved over to pick up one of the blankets. "If I didn't know you better, I would think you were trying to give me a hint," he commented as he dropped it onto the bed.

Cheyanne backed away from him. "No, no hint. The blankets just flew off the bed, I swear to you. It was like magic!" Thorin lifted an eyebrow and stepped towards her. Cheyanne pressed her back against the stone wall. "Magic?" she repeated weakly.

Thorin walked over to her until he was standing directly in front of her. He placed his hands on the wall on either side of her head and gazed at her. "Are you trying to distract me from something?" he asked her, tilting his head.

Sweet Nessa, he smelled good. Tobacco mixed with sweat was tantalizing. She sucked in a deep breath of his scent and looked away. "Of course not," she whispered. "Why would I do that?"

"You wouldn't have to," Thorin said, leaning forward. She ducked beneath his arm as his mouth was about to level with hers, giggling nervously.

"Y'know, I'm actually really tired!" she exclaimed, making herself yawn. "I bet you're exhausted as well, having trained all day. Maybe we should fix the bed and get to sleep?"

Thorin gazed at her curiously. "Are you avoiding me?"

"Yes," she allowed herself to squeak. "Much... Much too fast, Thorin. We haven't even decided what my nickname is going to be!"

Thorin shook his head. "That was your job, 'ibin," he reminded her, walking past her to pick up another blanket.

"Yes, and I'm not good at it," she responded, stooping down to pull out the pillows. When she straightened up, she felt hands around her waist, and she stiffened. Thorin's breath was against the back of her neck, his facial hair rubbing against her skin. "Maybe you should consider your options," he suggested, voice rumbling against her back.

Cheyanne pulled out of his grasp, twisting around in a small spin as she did so. "I definitely should. So, my choices were 'ibin, which you seem to enjoy, or... Beleb, yes?" She dropped the pillows onto the bed and hummed to herself. "I don't know. It's so hard to choose."

Thorin bent down and picked up the blanket that was lying near his feet. "I think 'ibin suits you better," he supplied.

"It's much prettier than 'beleb'," Cheyanne admitted. "Not that I'm saying I'm pretty or anything."

"You are," Thorin told her.

Cheyanne felt her cheeks grow warm with a blush, and she ducked her head. "Thank you."

"So, 'ibin it is, then?" Thorin asked after a moment. She nodded. "Very good. We've gotten past that stage."

"I'm a jewel, apparently," Cheyanne said. "Hurray."

Thorin shook his head and gestured to the bed. "Sleep?"

"Good idea!" Cheyanne struggled to get up onto the mattress and huffed. Thorin approached from behind and gently lifted her, as he had done the night before. Cheyanne crawled to the further side of the bed and waited for Thorin to climb up as well. When he did, she flopped down and rolled onto her side.

"Don't fight tomorrow," she whispered to him. "Please. Everyone will be so much happier if you just give the Lakemen and Thranduil what they want." She turned on her side, facing away from him. "Then... No one has to die."

Without asking for permission, Thorin reached out and pulled her to him. He locked her against his chest by closing his arms around her. "No matter what tomorrow brings, know that I am glad you were here with us throughout it all," he told her quietly.

Cheyanne closed her eyes and let herself sink against Thorin. Please be careful, Bilbo, she said to her cousin silently. We need you.

She rolled over in his grasp and buried her face into his chest. "Thorin Oakenshield," she said softly.

"Yes?"

"You need to be yourself tomorrow," she told him. "That's the only way you will make it through to the next day."

"I cannot make any promises, ê 'ibin," he said in response, "but I will do my best for you."

Cheyanne longed to kiss him. She knew tonight could be their last together, if the plan Bilbo had come up with failed. What would she do if she were to lose Thorin and still be alive? What if she were to lose any of them? Fili, Dwalin, Bilbo... They were her family.

Thorin's lips pressed against her forehead. "Do not fear the day that comes," he whispered. "Bad thoughts lead to bad things."

"Yes they do," Cheyanne agreed under her breath, huddling closer to him. I can't lose them. I can't.

"Gandalf?" Cheyanne was surprised. "When in the Valar did you get back?"

Gandalf was seated in a chair across from her, holding his staff in both of his hands before him. Cheyanne was sitting in a chair of her own, in a place she'd never seen before. It was a big open field, and a small stream was floating by, water whispering over the stones at the bottom.

She glanced around in worry, wondering where they were and how they had gotten there. Gandalf merely shook his head at her, asking her to keep questions to herself. She furrowed her eyebrows, but nodded in response.

"Cheyanne, do you remember what I told you before asking you to come on the journey with us?" he queried gently.

"Well…" Cheyanne thought back, removing herself from the field and back to where she and Gandalf had been sitting underneath the big tree just outside the Shire. The old wizard had been smoking his pipe at the time, a thoughtful look on his face. She'd made fun of him for it, and Gandalf had frowned in disappointment at her.

"I thought I had raised you with better manners," he said sternly.

"Well, when you look like you're daydreaming about something, what am I supposed to do?" she'd asked. "You never daydream, Gandalf."

Gandalf had let out a hum. "I wasn't daydreaming. I was thinking about your cousin."

"My cousin?"

"Bilbo Baggins."

"Ah." Cheyanne didn't know much about her cousin. She hardly ever saw him; he was such a homebody, rarely leaving his home in Bag End rather than to go to some other hobbit hole for tea. Hers was not on the list of homes he visited. She hardly believed he knew she existed, in fact.

Thinking about this, she'd turned to look at Gandalf. "What are you thinking about him for?"

"I was just wondering how useful he would be on an adventure," Gandalf responded with a small yawn. He was acting disinterested, but Cheyanne's interest had shot up.

"An adventure? What adventure? Why didn't you tell me about this?" She barraged him with questions, and Gandalf studied her through one open eye, the other closed.

"I didn't tell you because I didn't know if I wanted you to come along," he said once she'd run out of questions.

She frowned. "Of course you want me to come along!"

Gandalf chuckled. "I suppose you would add a little variety to the group we've rounded up." He paused for a moment, and opened his other eye, turning his gaze to the sky. "Cheyanne, may I ask you something?"

"Of course," she replied immediately.

"How much do you know of dwarves?"

"Dwarves?" Cheyanne pursed her lips. "Not much, I'm afraid. I've never seen a dwarf before, but I know that they… Live in mountains?"

Gandalf smiled. "Well, you know the important part, at least."

"Why does it matter if I know of dwarves?"

"Because our journey is focused entirely on dwarves and a mountain, my dear girl," Gandalf told her.

"Oh!" Cheyanne felt ridiculous. Of course the adventure had something to do with dwarves. Why else would Gandalf had brought them up? "Sorry," she apologized. "I should have guessed that. What mountain?"

"The one mountain that is no longer inhabited by dwarves," Gandalf said. "Erebor."

"The Lonely Mountain?" Cheyanne had seen maps with the name written on them.

"Yes," Gandalf confirmed. "We're going to get it back."

"Get it back? Was it taken?"

Gandalf nodded, and Cheyanne waited for a deeper explanation. "A dragon by the name of Smaug took Erebor from the line of Durin a number of years ago," Gandalf told her. "I met with the heir to the throne of Erebor, Thrain, and he gave me a map with holds a secret in it. One that I cannot decipher, but one that will get us into the mountain."

"Who is "us", exactly?" Cheyanne queried.

"A company of thirteen dwarves, including the heir to the throne."

"Thrain?"

"No." Gandalf had looked at her at this point. "His son, Thorin."

Cheyanne tilted her head. "So, them, me and you, and… Bilbo?" She winced. "I don't think he'll be up to the task."

Gandalf merely turned his eyes back to the sky. "I don't know, Cheyanne," he said thoughtfully. "I believe that Bilbo may change his mind, when he realizes that another hobbit is coming along."

"Oh, so that's the only reason you're letting me come, is it? To convince the male hobbit to join along?" Cheyanne crossed her arms with an annoyed huff, and Gandalf laughed.

"Of course that's not the only reason," he'd said when he was done. "I'm certain you will serve a purpose along our journey as well. I just don't know what it is quite yet."

Cheyanne removed herself from the memory and found herself with Gandalf in the field again. "Well, you told me that Bilbo would only come if I came, and that I might have a role to fulfill as well," she told him, answering his question.

Gandalf nodded. "Good. I'm glad you haven't forgotten that."

"Why?"

The wizard stood up from his chair and paced to the edge of the stream. "The purpose you were meant for is approaching," he said over his shoulder. "I just wanted to refresh your memory so that you were prepared when it arrives."

"Gandalf." Cheyanne rose from her chair and started to walk towards him, but with every step, it seemed like he was getting further away. She stopped in confusion. "What is this place?"

"I will see you soon, Cheyanne," Gandalf answered.

"Gandalf!" The wizard and the field faded away, and Cheyanne shot up in Thorin's bed. Glancing around, she saw that he was in his bedchambers, and she let out a breath, brushing away the hair hanging in her face.

A dream, she thought to herself. Just a dream.

Lying back down, she turned to look at Thorin. His back was towards her, but she could see him rising and falling rhythmically as he breathed. Cheyanne couldn't help but smile slightly, and she cuddled closer to him. Thorin stirred, and he rolled over, one of his arms falling over her.

"Valar guide me," she whispered to herself with a small sigh. What had Gandalf known about her role in the journey before the journey had even begun? What was she supposed to do? She'd already tried helping Thorin with his illness; clearly, she hadn't done much.

What was left?

She closed her eyes and pictured what life would be like if none of this was happening. Perhaps she's go home with Bilbo, and they'd be best buddies, like they should have been before all of this. Them and her friend Jon, too. They could have parties together!

The thought made her grin sleepily to herself. Wouldn't that be nice?

But then, there was Thorin, too. Where did he fit into the picture?

She yawned. He could visit the Shire, and sit grumpily in the corner during the parties, like he probably would anyhow. Yes, that sounded about right.

Cheyanne opened her eyes again and looked into the sleeping face of the dwarf lying beside her, her heart aching when she realized that she could very well lose him tomorrow.

I won't let that happen, she decided firmly. Nothing is going to happen to you. You're going to stay alive, and you're going to get better, and everything is going to be just fine.

Now, if only she could see into the future to make sure all of that was true…

And now, a haiku.

My name is not good

I have zero friends right now

I am a loser

*bows* Thank you.