Singing in German? One of the most difficult things you will ever do in your lifetime.

I'm serious. In choir, we're singing Richard Wagner's wedding march, or Treulich Gefuhrt for you cool kids, and it's super hard. So my choir teacher was all like, "Channel your inner Arnold Schwarzenegger."

Uhm, okay.

"GET TO ZE CHOPPA!"

Fudge. I'm going to fail my test on Thursday.

The dwarves had all retreated to the lower level of the front hall, unable to do anything while Thorin's order remained what it had been. They had all glumly removed their armor and were sitting restlessly, many tapping their feet and some hitting their weapons against the floor.

Cheyanne paced at the foot of the stairs, muttering to herself as she heard blades clashing down below. The Elves had retreated to Dale to fight a second half of an army that had attacked the city. Away to the north was where Azog was, commanding the army with giant flags.

Cheyanne was half-tempted to climb over the wall and go tear them down; they were the signals that told his army what to do and when.

Dwalin joined her at the bottom of the stairs. "I don't know why we didn't all try to stop Thorin," he told her softly, "and I respect you for trying."

"It's too late, isn't it, Dwalin?" she asked him. "Thorin is lost? There's no… There's no helping him now, is there?"

The dwarf glanced across the front hall to the throne hall, where Thorin had disappeared. Cheyanne wondered what he was doing in there on his own.

"I don't know, lass," Dwalin answered after a moment of looking down it. He turned back to her. "I wish that there was a way to help him, but if you couldn't, I don't know who can."

"Why do you act like I'm the only one who could have saved him?" Cheyanne asked. "I not a close friend or a nephew of his; I'm just some hobbit he met in the Shire a half a year ago whom he didn't like or trust at first. I don't understand why you believe I could have helped bring him back from this insanity."

Dwalin let out a breath. "I had forgotten you don't know much about dwarven customs," he murmured. "Thorin must have, too."

Cheyanne frowned. "What are you talking about, Dwalin?"

"Lass, when a dwarf wants to court someone, they often give them something made especially for them, that they craft themselves. When Thorin gave you that cuff, and you let him braid your hair, that was you accepting his courting proposal." Dwalin told her.

Cheyanne reached up and touched the bead that hung from the end of her braid. "But - He said he found this with the treasure…"

Dwalin shook his head. "He was up in the forge crafting that for you a few nights ago." Cheyanne's eyes widened, and the dwarf gave her a small smile. "He wants you to be his queen, lass."

Cheyanne took a step backwards in shock, this new information hitting her like a sack of bricks. "He… He wants me to be his queen? As in he wants to marry me? I don't - I can't… Dwalin, I'm a hobbit!"

"Lass, Thorin knows that," Dwalin told her. "He's cared about you since the goblin tunnels. I think he loves you, and knowing that you betrayed him… It must have sent him over the edge."

"So it's my fault we're not out there fighting right now, is that what you're telling me?" Cheyanne asked him.

"No!" Dwalin exclaimed. He let out a breath and took her shoulders in his big hands. "Listen to me; I know that you don't think there's anything for us to do, but I don't want to give up just yet. I'm going to go talk to Thorin."

"What do you want me to do?" Cheyanne questioned after gazing up at him for a long moment.

"I want you to wait for me in the shadows. You'll know when I want you to come out, I guarantee it," Dwalin told her.

Cheyanne nodded, and Dwalin pressed his hand to her cheek for a moment before turning and going around the hall to the passage to the throne hall. Cheyanne followed a short distance behind, and waited at the end of the path leading to the throne when they had climbed their way up the stairs. She saw Thorin was sitting on the throne, glaring down at the floor.

Dwalin walked towards him slowly. "Thorin, they're dying out there," he told him, his voice firm.

Thorin didn't look at him. Instead, he raised his head and gazed around the throne hall. "There are halls beneath halls within this mountain," he mused under his breath, just loud enough for Cheyanne to hear. "Places we can fortify, shore up, make safe… Yes, that's it!" He stood and pointed at Dwalin. "We must move the gold further underground."

"Did you not hear me?" Dwalin demanded. Thorin looked at him in surprise. "Dain is surrounded. They are being slaughtered, Thorin."

Thorin gazed at him. "Many die in war. Life is cheap. But a treasure such as this… Cannot be counted in lives lost. It is worth all the blood we can spend."

Cheyanne bowed her head. This wasn't Thorin at all. He really was lost.

Dwalin looked at him for a long moment. Cheyanne couldn't see his face, but by his voice, she could tell he was disappointed in him. "You sit here in these accursed halls with a crown upon your head, but you are lesser now than you have ever been."

"Do not speak to me as if I were some lowly dwarf lord. As if I were still… Thorin Oakenshield." He turned away from Dwalin and then spun back around, wielding a sword. "I am your king!"

"You were always my king!" Dwalin told him sharply. "You used to know that once." He shook his head. "You cannot see what you have become."

Thorin glared at him. "Go. Get out. Before I kill you."

Dwalin didn't bother saying anything else. He turned around and walked away from Thorin, towards the passage Cheyanne was hiding down. She couldn't stand it, and she hurried up the rest of the stairs and started to storm towards the throne.

Dwalin held out his hand and put it against her shoulder to stop her. "Do not go over there," he warned under his breath.

"He has to listen to somebody!" she shouted angrily.

"It's too late, lass," Dwalin told her. "It is much too late."

Cheyanne refused to believe that. She shoved him out of the way and stalked down the walkway to the throne. "Who are you?!" she demanded of Thorin as she approached.

He looked up in shock at her voice, and she stopped just in front of the throne, putting her hands on her hips and planting her feet. "Who. Are you?" she repeated darkly.

"I am the King Under the Mountain," answered Thorin, voice barely there.

"You are not a king," Cheyanne growled. "You are nothing but filth. It makes me sick just to look at you." Thorin didn't even try to fight back. She went up the stairs leading to the throne and pushed him backwards into it. "There, you have your throne. Does this throne make you a king?"

He didn't respond, and she gestured around the hall with her arm. "Does this mountain make you a king?" She pointed towards the stairs at the end of the hall that led to the gates. "Does the Arkenstone make you a king?" Thorin shifted his eyes downwards, and she grabbed the front of his shirt. "Does the treasure make you a king?" she hissed into his face.

Thorin still had nothing to say, and she snorted, tossing him backwards against the throne. "I told you before that a jewel did not make you a king. A treasure does not make you a king, either. The only thing that makes you a king is the way you act. And at the moment, you are acting like a useless sack of-" She cut herself off before she said the insult that was boiling on her tongue. "Thorin, I-I was willing to follow you to the ends of Middle-Earth a month ago. Now I'm not even willing to follow you deeper into a mountain. Why do you think that is?"

Thorin stood and walked past her without saying a word, and she watched him walk away for a second before she said, "I wanted to tell you that I would have accepted your offer." He paused briefly hearing this, and she looked down at the floor. "I'm sorry- I would have accepted Thorin Oakenshield's offer. But… Apparently he's no longer here, so I suppose I can't."

Thorin continued to walk away from her, and he disappeared down the stairs. Cheyanne hung her head once he was gone, and she let out a sob, allowing her composure to crack. There was nothing she could do now. It was out of her hands. It was time for Thorin to fight his own battle, if he could.

She walked away from the throne and down the stairs leading to the doors of Erebor. Dwalin was standing at the bottom, his eyes huge. "I can't believe you did that," he said, taking her by the arms.

Cheyanne let out a dry laugh through her tears. "I didn't do anything." She walked away from him, right into Fili's waiting arms. He pulled her to him tightly, and immediately, all of the other dwarves were surrounding them in a giant hug, Cheyanne right in the middle.

She cried into Fili's chest, unable to function long enough to do anything else, and the dwarves merely hugged her between them. When she was able to speak through her tears, she said, "I-I have failed all of you."

"No," Balin murmured. He was closest to her aside from Fili. "You did what none of us had the will to do."

Cheyanne wiped at her eyes, trying to stop the tears from falling. She let out a weak laugh. "I still failed, even if I tried. It didn't work, and so… I have failed."

The dwarves were silent in response to that, and slowly, one by one, the stepped away from the hug, until at last she was left with Fili. He released her slowly, and brushed a tear off of her cheek with a thumb. "You cannot blame yourself for Thorin's choices, Chey."

"He isn't Thorin anymore, Fili," she whispered, pulling away. "He is not your uncle."

Fili gave her a look as she turned and walked away from him, around the hall towards the stairs that lead to the top of the wall. When she reached them, she gazed down at the Iron Hills dwarves. They had backed against the mountain, their strength wavering as Orc onslaughts came at them each time they killed the one before.

Beyond that, the city of the Dale was crawling with black and gold. Gold of the Elves, and black of the Orcs. The black greatly outnumbered the gold.

Cheyanne let out a breath and turned away from the wall. The dwarves were all looking up at her, like they were waiting. She frowned. "What?"

"You were to be our queen," Gloin muttered under his breath. "That means you would have been in command should the king been unable to fulfill his duties."

Cheyanne shook her head. "I'm not your queen."

"You were going to be," said Dwalin. He lowered himself to one knee and looked up at her. "That's good enough for me."

"And me," Fili agreed, doing the same. One by one, the reset of the company fell to one knee and lifted their eyes up to Cheyanne. She gaped at them, unable to do anything but that.

"What would you have us to do, Queen Under the Mountain?" Kili asked her.

Cheyanne let out a breath and bowed her head. "I would have you listen to your king," she answered quietly, before she raised her head again. "I am in no position to give you orders. Perhaps, one day, I will be, but until then, you must follow Thorin."

Silently, the dwarves all rose back up to standing positions, and they nodded to her as one. She nodded back, and walked down the stairs with a sigh. Dwalin met her at the bottom and gave her a look. "I don't understand."

"Why I didn't ask you to attack?" she questioned. He nodded, and she lifted her shoulder. "It is like I said: I'm not your queen."

She walked away from him and sat down on a stone without saying anything more. The company sat in silence for several minutes, no one wanting to say what was on their mind. After a long time, ages, it seemed, there was a noise from the other side of the hall.

Cheyanne lifted her head and her eyes widened. Thorin was approaching them, backed by a golden light. He looked… Godly, almost. Seeing his uncle must have brought Kili's rage to a boiling point. Before Cheyanne could do anything, the young dwarf stood and stormed over to him, shouting, "I will not hide behind a wall of stone while others fight our battles for us!" He reached his uncle and gazed at him straight on. "It is not in my blood, Thorin."

"No, it is not," Thorin agreed firmly. He reached forward and put his hand on Kili's shoulder. "We are sons of Durin, and Durin's folk do not fade from a fight." Cheyanne covered her mouth with her hand to keep a sob from escaping. Was she actually hearing this? Had he come back?

He and Kili rested their foreheads together for a brief moment before Thorin walked by him towards the others. He gazed at each company member in turn as he said, "I do not have the right to ask this of any of you-" He stopped walking in the midst of the circle they had scattered themselves in and looked around at them all. "- but will you follow me, one last time?"

The dwarves didn't need to be asked twice. They all lifted their weapons in agreement, and Thorin smiled at this. He looked past them all at the wall. "Tear that down. We have a battle to join."

The dwarves immediately set to work, and Cheyanne moved out of the way so she wouldn't bother them. Thorin approached her, eyes soft, and she gazed up at him as he reached her.

"This is going to be the last thing you want to hear-" he started, but she cut him off with a quick shake of her head.

"I'm not staying in the mountain."

"Chey-"

"No." She met his gaze straight on, and she realized that his eyes were clear, clearer than they had been since they had made it into the mountain. Cheyanne's cheek twitched as she started to grin, realizing Thorin had won his battle. "I said I would follow you to the ends of Middle-Earth. That's what I'm going to do."

Thorin must have been able to tell there was no arguing with her, because he didn't try. Instead, he looked down at her, and his eyebrows drew together. "Did you get shorter?" he asked her in confusion.

Cheyanne let out a small laugh. "I think you grew."

Her heart racing, she realized that it was time. She leaned up on her toes and threw her arms around his neck. There was a moment where she just gazed into his clear blue eyes and saw her reflection in them, relishing that she could do just that.

Cheyanne didn't want to wait any longer. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to Thorin's. The warmth of his mouth against hers was enough to give her chills, and she fell against him. Thorin wrapped strong arms around her to keep her from falling straight to the ground, not that she would have. She didn't want to leave this position ever.

"Ahem." Someone cleared their throat, and Cheyanne had to pull away from him, even though she didn't want to. Dwalin was standing off to the side, grinning. "Are we ready?" he questioned with a chuckle.

Cheyanne turned back to Thorin and gazed at him for a long moment. "Do us both a favor," she whispered as her nose bumped against his, "try not to get killed."

Thorin moved his lips to her forehead. "I will do my best for you, ê 'ibin." He allowed her to fall back to her normal height and cradled her face in his hands as Bombur blew into a warhammer from the top of the wall. "Do not forget what you told me earlier," he said softly. "I will be holding you to your word."

Cheyanne nodded once, and Thorin moved away from her to join the others. She watched as a golden bell they had raised up on pulleys and ropes pulled back and slammed into the stone wall, immediately knocking it into rubble. All of them ran through as one, Thorin in the lead.

Cheyanne started to hurry after them, but stopped when she realized she didn't have a weapon, nor did she have any idea as to how she was supposed to kill an Orc. Even if she had done it before, it had been one at a time, and not an army.

"Well, I need a weapon first," she decided, glancing around. "We will take it from there once I have one."

She started to walk away from the destroyed wall, and stopped when she noticed something black in the rubble. She went over to it and pulled it free, and found herself holding the bow Thorin had wielded against Thranduil before all of this began.

She glanced up towards where the Orc and dwarves were battling just outside the mountain, and then her eyes drifted towards Ravenhill. Towards Azog.

"I think I have a plan now," she murmured under her breath before she turned and hurried towards the armory to find some arrows. "Though, I don't know how well this will work, considering I've only trained with a bow for a span of an hour in my life."

Oh yeah. I forgot that kiss was in this chapter.

Well.

Hurrah! Thoranne lives on!

Now I have to go memorize music.

... Duftender Raum, zur Liebe geschmuckt.

Lovely language, isn't it?