Thorin sighed, regarding the few stars which punctuated the dark night sky with disparagement. They looked so cold and withdrawn, free of the complications of living and breathing and struggling like everything else in Middle Earth. He despised them for their far removed beauty, for representing everything which was cold and unobtainable in the world. He closed his eyes, blocking the condemnatory stars from his sight and trying bleakly to grasp onto something more solid. He felt his oaken shield beside him, fashioned out of the original branch he had fought with at the Battle of Azanulbizar, just as sturdy and formidable as it had been on that terrible day. His fingers tripped over the knarled knots of the wood and along the slick indentations on its uneven surface. He took great comfort in it, his shield, and felt confident fighting with it at his side. The stars might be dark and cold, twinkling from the far recesses of space with their distant mocking, but he knew he could fight on. With his sword and his shield and dozens of the finest dwarves in all of Middle Earth at his back, he knew he could face whatever challenge lay ahead of Durin's Folk. Even so, there were moments he would look up at the stars and wonder if he would ever see the smooth stone halls of Erebor again, if he would ever be able to avenge his father and his grandfather by taking back their mountain home, if his people would ever be truly content again. Forcefully banishing these malcontent thoughts from his mind, the dwarf tried to focus on his present task and abandon hesitation and worry. He was responsible for so many lives – he did not have the luxury of self-loathing or melancholy. He was a leader, and despondent thoughts would not further the cause of his people.

It was selfish to think this way, to pity himself and his fatal responsibility… And yet Thorin could not stop the flood of painful sentiments, stabbing at his mind and ringing in his ears. It was agony, to think of how only hours before everything had been so right, so hopeful and so… possible. For a moment, however brief and beautiful, he had truly believed in a future. He had seen it all in a vision as glorious and fleeting as springtime, a season which rarely touched the dwarves in their stone mountains – he could have married Evangeline and started a family, raised children together, reestablished Durin's Folk in a safe place… And then, once they were secure, he would go back to Erebor and face the dragon Smaug. He would earn his true inheritance, and the dwarves would return to their rightful home. He had imagined every last detail; from the moment they stepped back into the great entrance hall of the Mountain to the exploration of every room, every cavern, every seam of gold… His heart yearned for Erebor like a kite floating perilously up in the sky, prepared to fall at any moment but drawn along by the force of the wind, of his fate, his only tie to reality a fragile little string, tugging him back down to earth and the safety of solid ground. He had hoped that he could find some support in his flight; that perhaps he did not have to keep struggling alone… But that revelry was now ended, and it was time he faced the reality of his situation, of his destiny. He was meant to continue on alone, absent distraction and petty desire.

Even as he promised himself a thousand times over that this was his fate and he had no choice but to submit to it, the dwarf turned to look at Evie where she lay beside him. The travelers were resting for the night; they would reach a town soon; they were close to the edge of the mountain pass and there was sure to be civilization nearby. He would do what he could for her there and prepare her body, then take her to her mother in the Shire. He was not sure where, exactly, to go, but the dwarf prince guessed that her home would not be too hard to find, considering the reputation of the Took clan. He scoffed bitterly just thinking about it – of the halflings and their trifling judgments. How could any creatures be so simple as to disparage the bravery of a neighbor who went abroad to save others from a gruesome death, who tended the wounds of the fallen and helped raise them back up again with sympathy and compassion, who rarely thought of herself or placed her own desires before those of others… Thorin's mouth shifted into a grimace, his body convulsing as he tried to choke back a terrible sob. This was not the behavior of Durin's heir; this was not acceptable from someone in his position…

He swallowed his tears, stubbornly refusing to let the emotion bubbling up within him come to form. It had all been a dream, she had been a dream, and he was a fool to think otherwise. He knew that now. He took one of her hands in his, pressing his lips to the soft skin on the top of it as he had done so many times before. His eyes closed and he swallowed, battling the sorrow rising up within him like the tide rolling in – emotion just as ungovernable as nature itself.

Grief. It was a frequent visitor in his life, and he wondered at what point he would be rid of it. Yet he had not cried at the deaths of his grandfather and his brother or the disappearance of his father, at least not in public, and he would not deign to do so now. His jaw clenched and he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and exhaling against her smooth fingers. Her hands were cold but not as stiff as he had expected – she had been gone for over a day now.

"I'm so sorry."

Dwalin's voice was low and gravelly; Thorin could instantly recognize the sympathy in it. They had been friends his whole life, and as soothing as it was to know that the other dwarf was by his side, Thorin did not wish for his companion to see him like this, crushed and without the promise of a quick redemption from his misery.

"Thank you."

He grunted, squeezing Evie's limp hand, totally careless of how morbid it must appear that he had not left the body, or at least wrapped her up in some manner. The prince steeled himself, working up the fortitude to turn and look at his fellow warrior without worrying he would appear overly maudlin.

He moved Evangeline's lifeless arm and was about to set her hand down on her chest when he felt her finger twitch within his grasp.

Thorin's body stiffened in utter disbelief. It could not be, she was – and yet he was sure that he felt it.

Evie's fingers had moved against his. He was certain.

The dwarf turned to lean over her, his hands grazing her cool cheeks and then moving to her white neck to check her pulse. He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the terrible drumming of his own heart and focus on hers, begging whatever part of Durin was still left in him that he would find it…

There. It was quiet, like the fluttering of a bird's heart – fragile and unsteady. But it was there. Thorin let out an inexplicable sound of relief, of deep gratitude and elation and ultimate respite, calling out,

"She's alive! Dwalin!"

The other dwarf, who was still standing over him and had been watching the last few moments pass with his fierce eyes wide and uncertain, took a step forward. Disbelief was painted clearly on his stark features, but he humored his friend when Thorin wildly bid that he check her. The warrior crouched down beside the hobbit's body with a low sigh. It would not do to humor the prince, if he was beginning to unravel. He had never thought Thorin would crack under the strain of his life's sorrows and the duty which weighed so heavily on him, but perhaps he had. Dwalin pressed two fingers to the dead hobbit's neck, searching for the phantom heartbeat he knew would not be there. After a brief pause, the warrior turned to his incurable friend, shaking his head.

"Thorin, she is –"

He stopped mid-sentence, realizing with a start that Thorin had not created a fantasy for himself; that he had spoken not only of what he had sensed, but of what was true. Dwalin's thick eyebrows shot up on his face as he felt it under his calloused fingers – the delicate thumping of the hobbit's heart. His large mouth split open into a smile, his eyes lighting up as he saw the look of hope and joy on his companion's typically gloomy features. She was alive.

"We must get her to the next town immediately!"

Telchar added, his voice higher than usual in his excitement. The others had not realized he had heard them, and looked to him in marvelous spirits. Telchar had not slept since Evie's death – the shadows under his eyes and the awkward way he carried himself spoke to the fact. He was too plagued by guilt to take any rest, too horrified by his mistake and its ramifications to relax. Thorin certainly blamed him for Evie's death, and rightly, too, but no one judged the dwarf more harshly than himself. Relief shot through his fatigued muscles as he hung over the little group, his eyes filling with happy tears when Dwalin confirmed that their hobbit was still, somehow, alive.

"I'll take her," No one questioned Thorin's decision, although Telchar might have been lighter and therefore faster on a pony. "Unload our supplies – if we make haste we should reach the town by dawn."

Dwalin rumbled an affirmation, and Telchar was already saddling their finest pony and stripping the tack of any unnecessaries.

"We will follow and meet you."

Dwalin suggested, and Thorin agreed, embracing his old friend. He nodded to Telchar, who held the pony as Thorin hopped into the saddle and took Evie up in his arms.

"All will be well…" He whispered into her ear, wrapping an arm around her as securely as possible. "You will live."

It was not a prayer; it was a promise.

Without another word, the rider set off into the darkness and away from the rigid mountain pass. Thorin was not sure if there was a healer in the town ahead, or what they could do for Evangeline, but he was positive that she had been spared for a reason. She was alive – it could not be for nothing. The stars looked down on Thorin Oakenshield as they always did, without comment, but he observed as he raced forward into the night that they seemed to shine a little more brightly than they had before.

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Author's Note: Wow, it was great to get all your comments on the last chapter! I've been saving that one up for a while now, and it was wonderful to read your responses to it. I hope no one was too upset, although I take it as a great compliment that it proved distressing, even a little bit… ;)

I apologize for the slowness of my updates- I've been really busy and a lot of times when I do sit down to write it ends up being for a future scene rather than anything contiguous. But I am working on it, and as fast as I can! This chapter is short but I figured it would be better to give you something than make you wait for the weekend. So here you are! Much love to you all!