I tried to get this out for my birthday, and when I couldn't do that, I tried to get it out before Christmas, and when I couldn't do that, I decided to get this posted before New Years! I've been sick for an entire month (almost two). I would get a little bit better only to spiral back down into being sick. It might be stress, but whatever it is, it's been a month. Enjoy!

...

"Darkness comes. In the middle of it, the future looks blank. The temptation to quit is huge. Don't. You are in good company...You will argue with yourself that there is no way forward. But with God, nothing is impossible. He has more ropes and ladders and tunnels out of pits than you can conceive. Wait. Pray without ceasing. Hope." -John Piper

~Chapter 23~

The Misty Mountain Cold

Every step I take is weighed down and grudging as we climb further and further along the Misty Mountain's intimidating height. I can hardly comprehend how much everything has changed since yesterday. Everything's upside down, and I find myself torn between blaming myself for revealing the information about the Goblins to Thorin and being angry at him for doubting me and the story. There are moments when I feel numb, still reeling from the panic attack that consumed me last night.

Galadriel had restored my knowledge of the future, only for Thorin to ruin it. Now, we're back to square one, taking a different route with no idea of what lies ahead.

As I glance back at the path we've traveled, the height allows me to see into the far distance. The view is breathtaking, but I find it difficult to find joy in the fresh air and stunning views as I normally would. If it weren't for the wargs hunting us, I would be walking back to Rivendell with Bilbo right now. I think I can spot a small crack in the distant horizon, possibly the Valley of Imladris, but I know it wouldn't be as easy to find as it seems.

As for the rest of the company, it doesn't take a genius to notice my discontent. I've been walking at the very back of the company all day. Sometime in the middle of the morning, Fili and Kili eventually get tired of my glaring and mumbling and join me at the back of the company, their concern evident in their expressions.

"Are you alright?" Fili's voice is gentle, even though he already knows the answer.

I kick a shard of stone down the mountainside in frustration, "No. Thorin is going to get us all killed."

"What?!" Kili's voice is laced with disbelief. He shoots a worried glance at Fili. "What happened between you two last night?"

"I learned that I can't trust him with knowledge of the future and he doesn't trust me," I reply, my frustration edging toward despair and my anger into grief. Why doesn't he trust me?

"No, Pey. That can't be right." Fili's hand rests warmly on my shoulder. "I'm sure your opinion matters a great deal to him!"

I give him a deadpan look but he continues undeterred, "Peyton, I know my uncle. I've lived with him all my life. He's different since he met you. I've never seen him smile so much."

"He's even begun to let his beard grow out!" Kili says in an awed, hushed tone.

I look over at Thorin in confusion but can only see his back from far away. I then give Kili a look like he's crazy, "Uh, no he hasn't?"

"Just a few millimeters, but the entire company has noticed!" Fili nods in agreement.

I roll my eyes. They would. But it's probably because he's busy and doesn't have time to cut his beard! But I still pause, taking that information in. I remember what Dori had said about braids, and the company have always, without fail, made sure their braids are oiled and perfect each and every morning. Perhaps beards are the same way. Now that they mention it, I do remember seeing Thorin trim his beard at the very beginning of our quest.

"Why IS Thorin's beard shorter than normal dwarves?" I ask them.

Fili remains quiet for a moment as we walk along, both his and Kili's expressions pensive. He chooses his words carefully. "It's an expression of grief. He's kept it short for as long as I can remember. It is as short as it was during the battle of Azanulbizar and he's vowed to keep it that way until his grandfather and father are avenged."

"But Smaug didn't kill his grandpa, Azog did." I interject, confused, "And he thought he had killed Azog?"

"He believes the dragon is the true cause of all his misfortune and if it weren't for the Wyrm taking Erebor, the battle of Azanulbizar never would have occurred."

Hmph. More like, if his grandfather wasn't so greedy it never would have occurred.

"Don't you see, Peyton?" Kili continues earnestly, "You distract him from his grief! You make him happy!"

"But...but then why doesn't he trust me?" I ask, my voice coming out in a plaintive whisper. They don't know all that Thorin said to Gandalf, and I sure as hell ain't going to tell them. They don't realize that Thorin just sees me as a friend and he's never considered me to be more than that.

"What exactly did Thorin say?" Kili asks. "Maybe you misunderstood?"

I shake my head. Fat chance.

"We're sorry if teasing you about your shirt has anything to do with this," Fili tries, his voice earnest. "It's just... unusual to see words and riddles written on clothing."

"And we're sorry for making you sing that horrible song." Kiki adds sincerely, before his eyes sparkle and he loses the serious tone he was going for, "It was just too much fun watching you squirm!"

I roll my eyes and shoot him a glare, unable to throw a shoe at the moment since I need both of them. But I can't help but let a small smile escape. It's difficult to stay angry with these guys. I don't blame them in the slightest for what has occurred between Thorin and me. Honestly, I blame Gandalf.

But Gandalf must have a sixth sense of when his hat is in danger, because he's conveniently disappeared since his conversation with Thorin, avoiding the situation.

Realizing that they are still waiting for me to explain my melancholy, I finally decide to elaborate. "Thorin has...ignored my advice. I told him something in confidence that we NEED to do and he decided to change the path," I sigh with a grimace. Their faces remain blank with incomprehension, prompting me to clarify further, "We are supposed to meet Goblins along the way, and Thorin is purposefully avoiding them."

"WHAT!? Pey!" Fili and Kili both exclaim, staring at me like I'm an idiot.

"What?!" I exclaim back, feeling my face turn a little red from the way they're looking at me. Ugh, I shouldn't have told them. "We'll be FINE, guys. Honest! In order to make it to Erebor that are some things we have to go through! And Thorin's ignoring that!" I end my frantic spiel by gesturing with my hands, unable to explain the horrible implications of the changes they fail to grasp.

"But that's his job, Pey! He's supposed to look out for the company!" Kili raises an eyebrow at me, shaking his head as if I'm an idiot.

"Aye, how are you upset for Thorin when he's looking out for you? Do you want to face Goblins?" Fili retorts, confused.

I roll my eyes, "No. Like I literally just said you guys, we have to go through them if we are going. To. Reach. ER-EH-BOR!" I sound it out slowly for them. Why aren't they getting it?? "And his job is to reclaim Erebor! You all knew this would be a dangerous quest before accepting the challenge. So don't look at me like that!"

How could they possibly know that the One Ring lies beneath our very feet and the future will drastically alter because of it?

Kili starts to say, "Goblins are-"

I interrupt him, "Very bad evil creatures that love to eat women. Yeah, yeah, I got it. Doesn't change the fact that the entire future will change, and not for the better if we don't go!" I kick at the ground once more, sending more rocks clattering down the mountain slopes. It's not sheer cliffs, but the slope is enough that they roll for a bit. I should stop kicking rocks, or I might reveal our location to anyone carefully watching the mountain below us. "It just...makes my purpose as the 'seer' of our group a little pointless."

My friends digest this in silence for a while and I return to glaring daggers at Thorin's back. I had ignored him yesterday and now it seems our roles have reversed and he is now ignoring me, up at the front of the company again, leading the way next to Balin and Dwalin. They've been talking lowly between themselves like this for hours, probably about me. I hate being the subject of people's conversations.

In a moment of longing, I entertain the thought of suddenly reappearing in my university lab in Nevada. I imagine the reactions of the people in the room, the frenzy of news stations reporting my return. I picture myself running up the front porch steps of my childhood home, embracing my mom and dad and frantically calling up my siblings on the cellphone just to hear their voices. How would I explain where I've been this whole time? How could I possibly make them believe me?

I glance back up at the front where Thorin is.

Quickly closing my eyes, I shake my head, trying to ignore the ache in my heart. Despite my best efforts to glare and curse inwardly at him, I still like Thorin. Thankfully, my anger towards his rejection AND his betrayal help to numb the pain, at least a little. I let out a sigh and glance at the two knuckleheads beside me. With everything changing around us, I can't predict or prevent their potential deaths. It could be like what happened with Nori! They could slip on a rock and fall! The memory of Azog piercing Fili's chest on a black tower flashes in my mind, surrounded by ruins of black stone. Will that even happen now?

"Pey," Fili interrupts my thoughts, breaking his long silence. He stops and makes me face him and says, "Enough of this worry. It doesn't matter if the future doesn't go as planned. Life rarely goes according to our expectations, right? You're still a valued member of our company. You're one of us. The other night, you said that we've all changed your life and that you love us. Well, we feel the same about you."

Tears start to well up in my eyes as Fili smiles sincerely at me. That's one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me.

I glance at Kili who nods and put a hand on my shoulder, "Fee and I already consider you as family."

Awww, these guys!

"And you're still my assistant scribe!" Ori's small voice startles us, from where he walks beside Kili. "Don't forget that! And I...I may even...need help dictating a paragraph tonight." He says hesitating, obviously not wanting to.

I let out a soft laugh, "Wow, Ori. A whole paragraph?" My spirits lift a little at Ori's sweet sacrifice. I glance to see if any of the other dwarves are listening, and if they are, then they're really good at hiding it. Only those up towards the front are clearly unable to hear us. Bilbo is walking next to Dori, discussing various ways to harvest tea leaves, and Thorin, Dwalin, and Balin are still at the very front deep in conversation.

Above us the clouds shift and swirl as the warm weather fronts of summer collide with the cold tips of the Misty Mountains. The humidity also spikes and a warm westerly wind blows from Rivendell's direction bringing grey clouds and a heaviness to the air.

Hopefully the rain will make it harder for anyone to track us, the feeling of being followed still lingers especially after the Necromancer's revelation of servants. The possibility of Azog picking up our trail weighs heavily on my mind.

A storm is coming and I feel like I'm traveling without a rudder in uncharted waters. But, it's like Gandalf said, I think to myself while watching Kili and Fili talking with Ori, I'm never alone. I have my family with me.

When we finally stop for the night, the thunderclouds above us look ready to pour. But thankfully, somehow, they hold.

Dwalin either didn't get the memo that I'm not in the mood, or he doesn't care as he orders me to come with him for our training. I grab my stick with a quiet huff, already knowing that resistance is fútil. The faster I get this over with, the faster I can go to sleep.

To my surprise, Dwalin leads me to an area on the side of the mountain covered in a relatively flat grey stone. Thorin stands at the center of the stone, seemingly waiting for us.

I don't hide the scowl on my face even as my traitorous heart beats fast. "What's going on?" I ask the two of them bluntly.

Thorin ignores my attitude and holds out a sword to me, hilt first. My real one from the troll hoard.

I look up at him, confused and suddenly nervous. "What's this?"

"It's time you learned with a real sword." Thorin replies imperiously. "Your training will be with me tonight."

I awkwardly take the sword and then, eyes widening in belated understanding, watch as Thorin moves directly in front of me. My stomach drops in equal parts horror and excitement.

"Finally!" Whooped TJ, sitting up from his pillow. "She's going to use Varzsiel!"

The sword is heavier than a normal stick, but lighter than it looks.

I test the edge carefully, and my breath catches just a little at how easily it slices. A thin line of red wells up almost immediately on my thumb.

"I…I don't think I'm ready for this." I admit grudgingly. It's not that I'm unconfident in Dwalin's instruction, but I just don't know yet how I want to proceed around Thorin when he refuses to trust me. Plus, glaring at him from a distance is easier than glaring at him from up close.

"You already know the moves, the technique. All that is left is to learn the weight of the sword in your hand. A stick will only get you so far."

Is this some sort of punishment of his? Or is he trying to, in a strange round about way, make amends? Has he been waiting for Dwalin to finish the basics to then take over?

"I would never hurt you, Peyton." Thorin says gently, interpreting my hesitance to mean that I'm afraid of him.

I blush, and look down at the sword I'm holding. "I know that….but, I don't trust myself with this sword."

I meant it in the sense that I could hurt myself, my thumb still stinging slightly, but they interpret my words to mean that I have it out for Thorin. Dwalin actually guaffs out a laugh while Thorin raises an eyebrow and his voice takes on a rare teasing tone, "If you can land one hit on me, I will be most impressed with Dwalin's training."

I give him a look.

"And with your suddenly incredible skills." He amends with a dry smile.

Yep. He's definitely trying to get on my good side. I can't deny the appeal that image brings me, though. The image of disarming the great Thorin Oakenshield, my sword pointed at his throat in victory as I demand we go through the Goblin tunnels. The idea is alarmingly appealing if I'm honest.

Of course, realistically that is a pipe dream. He'd absolutely mop the floor with me. I don't think he'll hurt me physically but my pride will certainly take one hell of a blow...but perhaps I can use deception on my side? If I have ANY chance at all of winning, I need to surprise him.

I barely see his weight shift from one booted foot to the other, before he is upon me. I shriek instinctively and block him with my sword in defense, jumping back.

Laughter echoes to the side of me, and I realize with a start that I have an audience. The whole company is watching and oh, how that rankles.

"Come, Peyton. Show me what you've learned," Thorin says, his voice steady and commanding with a hint of exasperation at my timid display.

I take a deep breath to steady my nerves and nod, determined to show him I'm not a liability. I calculate quickly and then lunge forward, my movements swift. I swing the sword in my hand as precise as I can, aiming for Thorin's defenses. I breathe a sigh of relief as he quickly parries my attack, effortlessly blocking the strike.

As angry as I am with him, the idea of hurting him with a sword is unbearable.

Thorin's movements are fluid and powerful, his experience evident in every swing of his own sword. I struggle to keep up, my heart pounding in my chest. But true to his word, he doesn't hurt me.

I have to think quickly and use my wits to gain an advantage. As Thorin swings his sword towards me, I duck and roll to the side, avoiding the strike. I quickly regain my footing and launch myself at him, aiming a swift strike towards his side. But he anticipates my move and deflects my attack with ease.

I refuse to give up. I continue to press forward, unwavering in my determination. I feint to the left, then quickly change direction and swing my sword towards Thorin's exposed flank. Unsurprisingly, my strike doesn't connect, and I can tell he's humoring me.

And then I feint into a counterattack immediately, banking on sheer surprise again. He anticipates me, however, and easily slips around me. I feel the flat of his blade slide along my neck. The metal is cold but gentle. Teasing. The mockery of a caress.

He is playing with me. Like he is fighting a child. I supposed my skills are no better.

"You'd be in trouble if I actually knew how to fight." I growl, the events of the past two days assault me once more as I realize I am unable to hurt him. I push myself harder to do so.

Our swords connect again and slide apart.

"I will teach you." The words are soft compared to the clash of steel, but they slash through my defences. "I've no doubt you'll be formidable once trained." There is a sincere slant to his offer that I find reluctantly compelling.

I refuse to look at his face and instead go on the attack again. He sidesteps me again, the flat of his sword grazing along my outside hip this time. My coat blunts the feel but the intimacy of the touch is in no way deniable.

"Always use your opponent's distraction against them." His low voice rumbles.

I turn back, my face contorting in annoyance, even as my legs tremble and reset.

I stab towards him and miss, momentum almost carrying me into the group of smirking dwarves on the side lines. What are they smirking about?

"Never make a forward thrust. You almost always open yourself up to a counter attack, unless your opponent is much weaker than you. Do not attempt it again." Thorin corrects me.

I growl back at him in annoyance, brushing my hair out of my eyes.

"And keep your elbows bent. I could have disarmed you a dozen times by now."

"Then why haven't you?" I snap at him.

"Perhaps I'm not ready to yet." He circles me again. "Perhaps I enjoy seeing what you'll do next."

I snort. "No you're just laughing at my efforts. I can't be much of a challenge. Why not just end it?"

He locks my blade, and then in a very smooth movement hooks my ankle so that I land on the ground while his free hand catches the back of my head before it bounces on the stone slab beneath us. His knee comes down beside my legs, so close I can feel the heat from his thigh.

"I can." He says. My heart stops as I watch his eyes drop to my mouth.

He releases me and stands, his knee grazing my leg as he moves away. He holds a hand out to me. "But this is training, not a battle."

It certainly feels like a battle. What is he playing at? Not knowing makes me angry.

I take his hand and allow him to start pulling me up, and then drop dead weight. I use his distraction to bring my own sword up in a blow. When he deflects it as expected, I raise my foot and aim a kick at his groin.

He only narrowly avoids it, his body tipping backwards, which means my sword slides free from his block and slices through his coat, gifting him a shallow cut beneath.

Thorin presses a hand to it in surprise, looking back up in time to catch the unmistakable look of pride on my face.

Got him.

The one he returns me makes my breath hitch again, and I belatedly realize I am panting. I am tired yes, muscles straining from foreign movements and from the weight of the sword, but I never got the same rush fighting Dwalin, or Fili, or Kili.

"I got a hit." I say, exhilaration coursing through me.

Thorin smiles, a hint of admiration in his gaze. "Well done," he says, his voice filled with genuine praise.

I can't help but smile, a sense of accomplishment washing over me. I managed to land a hit on THE Thorin, even if it was just a graze. And it was a cheating move on my part to aim for his man bits. But the small victory fuels my determination to continue fighting.

"Booo!", " That was a foul!", "Low blow, Peyton!", The company call out to me. "Dishonor!"

I give them a smirk, "Hey, no blood, no foul! And Thorin said to use my opponent's distraction against them."

"Aye, you did well." Thorin says, not even the slightest bit angry. His tone turns wry, "I know I said I do not plan on having children, but I would appreciate you not depriving me of the opportunity completely."

My breath hitches but I cover it with a breathless embarrassed laugh. I do my best to not let my thoughts run away from me. "Ok, ok. I'll beat you honorably next time."

The spar continues, with me using my agility and quick thinking to my advantage. I manage to dodge some of Thorin's strikes but am unable to land any more hits of my own.

Ultimately, I am thankful we have an audience to keep us in line. The way that we move around one another, our breaths, our swords, it is like a dance. His eyes and my eyes meet and hold each others as we perform this dance. I find myself not as upset at him as before, my previous ire slipping away as we move together. Memories from the other night before Bofur interrupted us assault my mind. Once again I'm attuned to his body in a strange haze and it feels almost like a dream. The feeling of his hand on the back of my neck when he caught me still hasn't left me. I wish he would do it again, and lower me to the ground once more... No! Focus, Peyton! Sheesh!

His expression shows me that he feels it too, and he finally calls an end to our training.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I sheath my sword and look at Thorin, happy once more with a newfound confidence. "Thank you," I say, my voice filled with gratitude. "So, can we go through Goblin town now?"

"No."

I turn in surprise to Dwalin who has answered my question, his expression hard. It's obvious that he and Thorin have been talking.

"Really? After all that?!" I exclaim, angry once more. I showed them all that I wasn't that bad with a sword! "But-"

Dwalin moves from his rock, his bushy eyebrows and bald head more intimidating than normal, "Do you remember the trolls?"

"Of course I remember the trolls! I'm not stupid!" I exclaim angrily. I don't like the way he poses the question.

"Then use your head, lass," Dwalin answers back harshly. "Goblins are worse than trolls. Eating you isn't the worst that a Goblin will do."

I don't wait to hear anything else, I turn around and leave, my good mood destroyed once more. I don't even spare a glance for Thorin or the rest of the company. Tears fill my eyes, even as I hear Thorin sigh behind me.

I understand it from their point of view. I really do. But it's not like I wrote the story or anything! How else are we supposed to get the Ring?

I go back to sleeping next to Fili and Kili that night, like I used to. If I notice Thorin sending long glances my way, I ignore it.

Things will work out with the story. They have to! But I have no idea that in a few days, things are going to get much much worse.

"AHHHHHH!!!! NO! NO-AHHHHHHH!" I press up against the side of the Rock Giant's knee for dear life. How did my life go so horribly wrong?!?

Fili and I hold each other, screaming like little girls, as the Rock Giant's knee starts to bend, moving closer to the mountain. We're about to become dwarf pancakes!

Not like this! Not like THIS!!!!!

CRASH!!!

I'm catapulted from the Giant's knee with the rest of the company, and my head smacks against the stone of the mountain wall. I lay there in a daze, looking up at the grey sky, opening and closing my mouth like a fish, trying to catch my breath. The raindrops fall relentlessly over my face, soaking everything in their path for a little bit until I look around me in sheer amazement.

"I'm...I'm alive?! I'M ALIVE!!!!" I gasp in pure relief and sit up with a groan, body aching and battered. I can't believe it, but ALL of us are alive, in a heap on the mountain side in an abnormally larger than usual space. That's divine intervention right there, I tell you what! This thin trail we've been traveling all day hasn't had many large openings. "Oh, sweet Neptune! I will never kick another rock down the mountainside ever again!"

Riding!!! On a ROCK GIANT!!! Did that just happen?! My throat feels hoarse from all the screaming I did and my ears ring from the sound of "rock thunder" echoing in the distance. This is not how the story is supposed to go!

Now that I've established that I'm alive, bruises start to emerge beneath my skin from being tossed from one rock or another. I try to wipe off the mud stuck on my hands and clothes to no avail.

"Peyton, you're bleeding!" Fili pulls me up from where I lay against the rocks, putting a hand on my face before looking in my eyes and suddenly giving me a shake, "What were you thinking?!? Yelling out to the rock giants to ask what they were fighting about!? Are you daft?!"

Oh yeah, I had done that.

"I was thinking," I push Fili's hands away, annoyed at my already shaken body being shaken even more, "that if they heard us then they might be polite and take their rock battle somewhere else! Besides, they didn't hear us and you were yelling far louder than me!"

"Thank Mahal," Thorin gasps as he and the others appear around the corner, almost weak with relief to find us all in one piece. They rush over to us, checking for injuries. Thorin reaches Fili and I, and he surprisingly grabs me first. My heart starts pattering. What-

"Your head is bleeding. Are you well?", his frantic voice reminds me of when the wargs had found us in the forest and we realized it was Azog. Terrified.

"Huh?" I lift my hand up to my head and bright red blood mixes with the rain on my fingertips. Oh yeah, Fili said I was bleeding. I offhandedly think to myself that I probably have a concussion since my thoughts are in a daze.

"Yeah, I'm ok. I didn't even notice." I give him a shaky smile. He must have reached for me first instead of Fee because I look more injured. Only possible reason.

But he doesn't let go of me as he turns to Fili and puts a hand on his shoulder. Fili was already nodding yes to the question in Thorin's eyes, and beat him to the chase, "Yes, I'm alright Uncle."

Thorin responds with a deep gust of released breath.

"You can be as thick-headed as a rock sometimes, you know?" Oin gripes as he slaps me on the shoulder, his relief palpable after the ordeal we've just endured.

Who could have imagined that we would ride on a Rock Giant's knee and survive it? The relief we all share from surviving something of that magnitude makes the company giddy. I've completely forgotten that I was upset at Thorin.

I laugh into the rain, "Oh, you know you secretly love it—"

"Help!"

All joking stops abruptly, as we realize someone is missing.

"BILBO!" I cry out in panic, bolting toward the sound. Where is he? Where did he go? "BILBO!" I shriek again as I spot him dangling from the mountain's roots of the edge of certain death. I quickly slide onto my stomach, reaching as far as I can, practically hanging off the cliff to grab him. The dwarves surround me, some grabbing onto me and others also desperately reaching out to help him.

"Reach Bilbo! Grab my hand!" I yell to him in panic, stretching my fingers out to my friend and leaning even more dangerously across the ledge. The memory of the lightening strike on Nori fills my mind when we thought we almost lost a member of the company. Not again!!

Bilbo's hands slip and I scream, "NO!" I lunge forward, but I'm stopped by Balin and Nori.

Bilbo catches himself on a ledge much lower.

"NO! LET ME GO!! I have to go down there!" I shove away Balin's and Nori's hands in frantic determination to throw myself off the cliff if he falls.

This whole time I thought the most important part of this quest was the ring. I was wrong.

Bilbo is as important as the ring. The quest will fail without both of them together. And he's my best friend.

Suddenly a second figure leaps down beside the cliff, gripping the edge of the mountain with a powerful hand. I watch in shock as Thorin grabs Bilbo by the colar like an errant kitten and chucks him up and over the ledge with a single hand.

I grab Bilbo and pull him close in a tight hug, but my eyes meet Thorin's over the ledge for a moment. He saved Bilbo! He-

A shard of icy fear stabs through my heart and I watch in horror as the ledge Thorin is holding onto crumbles. He disappears from my view.

"THORIN!" I scream, the desperation in my voice echoing through the air. A despair overtakes me as sharp and potent as when I saw him die from Azog in the mirror.

But faster than I could start screaming, Dwalin, the hero of the moment, had reacted with "Flash speed". He lowered his long axe handle toward his king, and is already hauling Thorin back up over the edge, defying the odds and escaping the clutches of certain death.

I feel dizzy as my heart races with a mix of relief and anger. I want to rush to him, to wrap my arms around him and hold him so close that he'll understand the sheer terror I felt at the thought of losing him. Then I'm going to KILL him for scaring me like that!

But I can't move.

Bilbo's grip is so tight that it restricts my movements, a clear sign of the shock he's experiencing. His breaths are shallow, and his eyes hold a wild, unfocused look. He had almost fallen to his death as well, and the trauma is evident in every fiber of his being.

Despite the chaos of the dwarves around me speaking to Bilbo and each other, my gaze unwaveringly remains on Thorin's face. The realization hits me like a wave crashing against the shore - I almost lost them both. I blink rapidly, attempting to clear both the rainwater and the tears that threaten to spill from my eyes. This adventure is the craziest adventure in the universe. The emotions are overwhelming, a mix of fear, relief, and a love so deep it's almost suffocating.

Wait...love?!?

Uh oh.

"Thought we'd lost our burglar." Dwalin remarks gruffly, his voice filled with a mixture of relief and exhaustion. He lets out a huff of relief as he slaps his King's shoulder, a gesture of camaraderie and unspoken affection.

But my mind screams in protest. We almost lost our King too! The urge to stand up and reach for Thorin is overwhelming, but Bilbo's grip remains unyielding. He clings to me as if he's still dangling from the ledge.

Thorin's eyes are as icy and unforgiving as a frozen lake, his wet hair tangled like a mermaid's as he scrutinizes Bilbo and I trembling on the path. "He's been lost since he left the Shire. He has no place amongst us," he growls, his contempt thicker than anything I've heard from him on this quest so far.

I'm stunned, my mouth falling open in shock as I stop struggling against Bilbo's grip. What on Middle Earth is he saying? "Thorin!? H-How can you say that?!" I have to yell to be heard over the howling wind and rain, water streaming down my face. "He nearly fell off a cliff, and that's the first thing you say to him?!"

"You nearly fell off helping him!" Thorin redirects his cold anger towards me. "Practically threw yourself off the cliff!"

"So did you!" I protest, confused by his anger.

"That's my POINT! You shouldn't be here either! We haven't avoided any of the mishaps that you've foreseen thus far. What are you supposed to change?!" Thorin's words hit me like a punch to the gut.

I pale, opening and closing my mouth like a fish. "I…I.."

Thankfully, Balin, with his patience and composure, steps between us, attempting to calm the situation. "Now, now, we've all had a very trying day. Let's keep our wits about us and allow cooler heads to prevail, shall we? We must seek shelter from this inclement weather and start anew tomorrow."

Thorin abruptly turns away from us, storming angrily towards a nearby cave, his axe at the ready. He barely pauses as he calls for Dwalin and disappears into the cave, likely hoping to find some goblins or orcs to vent his frustration on.

I kneel there with a silent and pale Bilbo, feeling the cold weather seeping into my skin. It would be just my luck to get hypothermia again, so I'm grateful for Balin's suggestion to seek shelter.

"It's clear," Thorin calls the company's attention, nodding his head behind him. "Into the caves."

I grunt as I pull Bilbo up with me and Bombur helps his other side before we shuffle towards the caves.

"Not you, Peyton." Thorin halts me with a glare, his voice low. "I will speak with you."

My hands clench at my sides and I feel something I haven't felt in a long while; my long lost pride that I thought had been dead faintly stirs within me at being ordered and bossed around. Thorin hasn't taken that tone with me in what feels like a long time. The past few days have been trying and I'd like nothing more than to snap and hiss at him.

But I take a deep breath, trying to focus. After all, I literally saw him almost fall to his death off a cliff today. Maybe he's just feeling the after effects?

As Bombur leads Bilbo into the cave, I stand to the side, allowing the others to enter. Once everyone is inside, Thorin finally turns his gaze towards me, his anger evident in his piercing glare. "Are you...are you well?"

I blink, "Uh...what?"

"Are you injured?" He growls, clearly wondering if my bleeding head is evidence of a deeper brain trauma.

"Uh, no. No, I'm fine." My hair a sodden mess with wet strands clinging to my skin, and so is his. "Are you? Ok, that is?" Why is he so upset?

"Why were the rock giants here?" he demands, ignoring my question.

Confused, I frown and reply, "I told you, they're part of the story-"

"I chose a different path," he growls, and I finally see his fury for what it is. Fear. There is a glimmer of fear in his eyes. "I went against your advice, and yet we still encountered the Stone Giants!"

I process this information, intrigued by the revelation. Does this mean there is still hope? Will we continue through the Goblin tunnels regardless of Thorin's choice to avoid them?

I finally shrug, unable to explain or make excuses, "It wasn't supposed to be like this. In the original story, we were only supposed to hear the giants, maybe even see them from a distance... but the path you chose led us directly beneath their fighting!"

Thorin takes a step back, his face filled with agony as he realizes that his choice could have potentially cost the company their lives. Unable to bear seeing him in such distress, I take a step forward, feeling an invisible connection between us. "Thorin," I whisper, and his wild eyes lock onto mine. "The company will survive if we follow the correct route. Straying from the predetermined path could lead to failure."

"How do you know?" he rasps, appearing lost. "How do you know that your presence won't change what you know?"

I shake my head, opting for honesty. "I...I don't. But I must be here for a reason, right?"

Wetting my already wet lips, I taste the rain beading on my mouth. Thorin's eyes flicker down to my lips and seem to freeze there.

"We're going to be ok." I whisper, and take a step closer before my voice turns hard, "But if you ever do that to me again, Thorin Oakenshield, there will be hell to pay!"

"Do what?" His eyes flicker up to mine, expression intense.

"Jump off a cliff again! I thought I lost you and I don't think you know how to perform CPR on me to restart my heart." I put a hand on his arm, attempting to joke but my eyes are too sincere.

Thorin's breath catches, his lips parting as he blinks.

I continue, "You saved Bilbo's life, so I can't be too mad. But if he hadn't been holding me so tightly I would have squeezed you to death."

The terrifying image of him disappearing over the edge fills my mind and I take a step closer, wanting to wrap my arms around him.

"Peyton," he murmurs, his eyes riveted on me, a peculiar expression on his face that makes my heart beat fast.

The proximity between Thorin and I makes our frosty breaths mingle in the cold air, and in that moment, all I want is to close that gap between us. My fingers tingle with the urge to grab his face and pull him to me.

But the sudden sound of the earth rumbling in the distance makes me jump, reminding the two of us that there are still scary rock giants out here throwing things around. I can vaguely see the two rock giants continue their brawl in a different location and we take a step back from each other.

"Into the caves," he says, his voice sounding strangely regretful.

I finally lower my eyes and step past him. He remains completely still as I move by, yet I can feel his eyes following me, a sensation confirmed when I glance back at his face. A shiver courses through me from the cold, and something else. How can I be his friend when I want him so badly? I've never felt this level of attraction for anyone or anything in my entire life.

Of course, this could just be my concussion talking. My head really aches.

I faintly hear him mutter a few words in Kuzdul as I walk to the entrance, though their meaning eludes me. Perhaps he's cursing my name to the Valar and lamenting the fact that he's stuck with an inept, lovestruck human?

Inside the caves, it is dark and the ground is covered in a peculiar sand but it is thankfully dry. The air is thick with the smell of damp dwarf and the sound of the torrential rain from outside. I go over to stand by Bilbo who is unnaturally still.

"Let's kindle a fire," Bombur suggests once we're all inside, attempting to inject some cheer into our group now that our spirits and clothes have dampened. "A warm meal will do wonders after the trying day we've had!"

"No, Bombur," Thorin interjects firmly, coming into the cave right behind me. "No fires tonight." He glances once more at me and Bilbo, who stands uncharacteristically solemn by my side, "If you wish to avoid another bout of hypothermia, I suggest you change into dry clothes." With that, he strides away.

I blush in embarrassment, remembering how warm and comforting his back was when I had cuddled up to him. I turn to find a corner of the room that has a large edge to hide behind and change out of my wet clothing.

After everyone settles into their bedrolls, I lay awake. Dry clothes, dry bedroll, but a wet soul. I swallow hard, anxiety pressing down on my chest. I'm terrified. Things are so different than what I expected, and I worry that it's all beyond any hope for me to fix. Thorin's success hinges on our journey through the Goblin tunnels. But Gandalf isn't here to save us! He's supposed to sneak into the tunnels after we're pulled in by the Goblins!

Silently pleading with the Valar that somehow Bilbo will get the Ring and we all make it through this, I watch the walls, searching the cracks and crevices for any hint of a hidden door or movement from within. But there aren't any ponies to tempt them like in the original story, having been frightened off by the wargs. Yet another thing that has changed.

There are caves all over the Misty Mountains, the company having passed many on our way up to this point. If the goblins don't have a back door to this particular cave, the fate of the company is sealed. I worry that we are far away from the original cave that the Goblins were meant to find us in.

Bilbo needs the ring. Especially... I gulp... when it comes to the spiders. I sit up and glance over at the Hobbit in question.

He's sitting alone near the cave's entrance facing the rain and wind as it continues to lash outside against the mountain, which causes a low whistling sound. He looks smaller and more miserable than I have ever seen him before. I wiggle out of my bag, carefully stepping over or around dwarf legs in the process. I can't let him face whatever he's going through by himself.

His shoulders tense slightly as I approach, but aside from that, he doesn't react.

"Hey, mind if I sit?" I whisper to him. When he doesn't respond, I gently ease my tired and bruised body down beside him. Being thrown into a rock wall with no airbags is not a good idea.

"I know what you're thinking," I say softly after a long minute of watching the rain in silence passes by.

He barely glances at me before looking away, grunting softly. "Hmph," he says.

"You're thinking 'I should have never left home'," I continue softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. He jerks his shoulder away from my touch, and I lower my hand in surprise, only now realizing how agitated and angry he is. "I understand, Bilbo. It's okay."

"No." He murmurs quietly, his voice gruff. "It's not ok." He finally looks at me, nose twitching and hands gripping at his knees, before looking back at the rain outside with a head shake. "Not in the slightest."

He falls silent, and I avert my gaze from him, feeling embarrassed by my ineffective attempt to comfort him. I stare at the rain violently beating against the cave entrance and bite my lip, deep in thought. I feel so ill-equipped for this task, unsure of what to say or how to help.

Memories of when he and I did this at Bag-end come to me. Of when we would watch the rain as he comforted me about missing my family.

I thought he had finished speaking, but it seems he's just getting started. "You told me that this journey would be good for me. You told me I was 'the main character' in this story, and I believed you!" He glares at me in betrayal.

"You are the main character, Bilbo-"

"I have done nothing but slow this company down, getting them into trouble with the trolls, and basically been the weakest one here! Weaker than even you! The woman!"

I know he's simply angry and doesn't mean it, but I can't help the hurt and offended look that crosses my face. He glances at me, realizing what he just said, but instead of apologizing, he withdraws further into himself, appearing even more miserable.

We sit there in silence for a while as I wrestle with my wounded pride and make an effort to truly understand what Bilbo is feeling. I have to be strong. I can't lash out at him when he's in such a vulnerable state. The troll incident was technically Kili and Fili's fault...

And then it dawns on me. This is precisely why you shouldn't tell people about their future. People need to go through difficult experiences...very difficult ones.

Imagine if you were told that you'd be in a car accident that would leave you paralyzed from the waist down for the rest of your life, and that somehow, in some inexplicable way, it would be crucial for your growth and happiness. Would you willingly allow it to happen? What if it were essential for the future of your family? Or for your community? Some people might, but most of us, including myself, couldn't fathom how such a thing could be beneficial and would go to great lengths to avoid it. Another thing Thorin and I have in common.

That's somewhat how Goblin Town is for our company. Without it, Bilbo won't have a chance of finding the ring or finding his courage. In order to become the hero of his own story, he has to literally hit rock bottom with an entire mountain piled on top of him. And without his adventure, Frodo will never be able to save Middle Earth. It's strange how the tapestry of the universe weaves together in mysterious patterns.

I let out a sigh and begin absentmindedly gathering tiny grey bits of rock from the cave floor, shaking them gently back and forth in my hand as I softly start to speak, "I never told you... what the story is called in my world." I glance apologetically at him from the corner of my eye, "Have I."

"Hmph," He replies dismissively, not really caring.

"It's called 'the Hobbit'." I try again, attempting a soft smile that comes out tinged with remorse.

"The Hobbit?" Bilbo glances at me in surprise, before scoffing and shaking his head. "Horrible name. Utterly preposterous. Why on Middle Earth would they tell a story about a cowardly hobbit who…who gives up?" His voice wavers a bit towards the end, and he hastily clears his throat, attempting to stifle his emotions.

I feel a pang of anxiety as I realize that he's struggling not to cry. In his mind, he's already given up?! How can that be?! Have I done this?

He'd probably be attempting to leave right now if I wasn't here.

"Because, Bilbo," I swallow, turning back to look at the relentless rain outside the cave's entrance, "you represent all of us in my world who feel like we have nothing to offer. Those of us who feel small and underestimated….like nobodies. We don't feel strong, or brave, or clever….but we want to be." My voice catches in my throat too and my eyes begin to itch.

Bilbo's story resonates with all of us misfits out there, which is basically everyone at some point in their lives.

I muster the strength to continue, "We yearn for adventure, to be someone remarkable like the Thorin Oakenshields or powerful like the Gandalfs in the story of our lives." I nod back toward the cave where the dwarves slumber. "We want to face the symbolic dragons and confront our fears but…but we can't imagine how someone like us can possibly succeed."

I fall silent for a moment, my own fears overwhelming me. What am I even doing in a fantasy adventure story? How can I defeat Azog? How?!

I can sense Bilbo's gaze on me and I turn to him and manage a smile through the tears, "But then YOU do, Bilbo! You do succeed! You MORE than succeed, honestly... You'll prove everyone wrong about you. Especially yourself." I give him a pointed look.

His eyes are filled with pain and doubt, but he listens intently, soaking up my words as if his soul is going through a desert.

I continue, "If someone like you, who understands how all the 'small nobodies' feel, will accomplish marvelous things, then surely there's hope for all of us. We can all do incredible things and be as brave as the hobbit who helped reclaim Erebor. And THAT is why it's called 'The Hobbit,' Mister Bilbo Baggins." I end my speak resolutely, giving a hard nod of my head to end my speech.

Bilbo is now in tears too, letting out a shaky breath as a couple of tears escape his eyes and fall onto the stone floor beneath us. He tries to speak several times, but nothing comes out. It's clear he still feels helpless and useless, without hope.

I reach for him, pulling him into a hug. He'll find his way. He has to.

We embrace, two souls far from home, clinging to each other in a dark cave in the heart of the Misty Mountains.

"Thank you, Peyton," he whispers hoarsely into my shoulder, and I squeeze him tighter.

"It's okay," I murmur back. "You would've figured it out without me here anyways."

"Well, I'm... I'm still glad you're here," Bilbo says as he pulls away from me and nods.

"What's that?" We both turn in surprise to see a concerned Bofur standing behind us.

It appears he has come over to offer comfort to Bilbo as well, but now points at Bilbo's scabbard. It's glowing blue as Bilbo draws it from its sheath!

I breathe a massive sigh of relief even as a Bilbo releases a shocked gasp.

They've arrived! Thank the Valar!

Wait...

Relief quickly gives way to dread. Oh crap. They're here?!

It's time. Don't panic! Don't throw up! Bilbo's wide-eyed gaze meets mine, and I try to convey confidence with a firm nod and a faint smile. I'm terrified and my hands tremble. Nothing has gone according to plan so far and I have no idea how this will go, especially since Gandalf isn't here. But as I told Bilbo, all we can do is hope. Hope that when the sun comes out tomorrow we'll all be alive. At least I got to practice sword fighting with Thorin for the past few days.

"Get up!" Thorin desperately bellows as he stands. "Everyone! GET UP!"

I rise to my feet quickly, turning and looking at the cave walls behind us in trepidation. My brow furrows as I don't see any doors opening, no goblin hands pulling dwarves into their deep dark halls. I'm unable to focus on the walls for too long before my gaze is pulled towards Thorin's blue eyes and anxious face. I realize he's been paying close attention to my conversation with Bilbo, having heard every word I said.

But then, we're unexpectedly falling in thin air. My stomach is in my throat choking me as I let out a terrified scream! The company hurtles into the open floor below and the darkness swallows us whole.

End of chapter

{Does a happy dance} It's Goblin time! Finally! That means I'm almost halfway done with my story!

On THAT note...my friend SwanInProgress better kick her butt in gear and get out the next chapter because I'm going to beat her in posting! XD

I worked really hard at writing the scene between Peyton and Bilbo. I love Bilbo's progression as a character!