Bilba struggled to open her eyes, the simple act incredibly hard as the lids felt like they weighed a ton.

Blurry shapes came slowly into focus with each sluggish blink until she realized she was staring at dark rock overhead. Dim light played off it in slow patterns, creating strange shapes and shadows.

Bilba frowned in confusion. Since when did Bag End have stone ceilings?

She cast her mind back; her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton.

Dim memories floated lazily to the surface, hands grabbing her, coaxing her to eat and drink, familiar voices talking to her though she couldn't make out what they said.

Oh, Bilba remembered with a start, that's right, the quest. She wasn't in Bag End anymore, or even the Shire. She'd left with a bunch of dwarves she barely knew, trekked halfway across Middle Earth, nearly died a half dozen times and finally ended things by pissing off a dragon...in Erebor. The Lonely Mountain.

Her head was clearing. Bilba shifted slightly, enough to take in her surroundings. She appeared to be in a small chamber. Broken bits of wood and other debris littered it, there was no telling what it had been before the mountain fell.

She was alone.

Where was everyone?

Something niggled at the back of her mind. She was forgetting something, something important.

She lifted a hand to push wayward strands of hair off her forehead before lowering it to rest on her chest.

Unfamiliar, rich fabric lay under her fingers. She wasn't wearing the clothing she'd had on before. Why --

Memory crashed back in with such force she physically gasped.

Her eyes burned and she struggled to swallow past the sudden, jagged stone lodged in her throat. Hot tears tracked down her face and she ground the heels of her hands into her eyes, choking on a sob.

"Bilba?" Boots scraped across rock and she felt someone kneeling beside her, a hand on her shoulder. "Bilba, please. Please don't cry."

Bilba pulled her hands away and focused on the blurry image of Kili. Reaching out she grabbed his shirt and dragged herself up to a sitting position where she immediately wrapped both arms around his chest and buried her face against his shirt. "I killed them," she choked out, "Kili, I killed them."

She felt him flinch, and then his arms came around her in a tight grip. "No, you didn't," he insisted. "Bilba, this wasn't your fault."

"I took them into a dragon's den," Bilba maintained, her voice hoarse and breaking, "how is it not my fault?"

"You didn't know." Kili shifted so he could look her in the eyes and repeated the words in a deliberate tone. "You didn't know." He swallowed and an anxious look entered his eyes, as though he struggled with something. Finally he took a deep breath and said, "What if--" He swallowed again. "I mean, what if they're okay? Or—maybe one of them? Smaug said twins—maybe--" He ducked his head. "I don't want to get your hopes up...or make it worse...but we don't know, you know?"

Bilba nodded dully, her own eyes focused on the ground, pain still twisting her heart. She had barely known about them and might have already lost them. "Did you tell?" Her voice dropped to a low whisper, the words barely breathed out.

"No," Kili answered instantly.

Bilba leaned forward and dropped her head against his shoulder, her entire body sagging against him. The last thing she wanted was for Thorin to know he had been a father...had been, might have been, could have been...should have been...wasn't.

Kili's words repeated inside her head in a slow loop. A tiny spark of hope flickered in the back of her mind. She slid a hand down to her stomach. The small mound was still there but she felt nothing, no nausea, no headache, no fatigue beyond what she'd expect from nearly starving to death. She felt none of the symptoms she'd had the prior few months, symptoms she now, belatedly, recognized for what they were.

She thought of the number of times they'd barely escaped death on the quest. Could she honestly expect her luck to have held out even further? To have spared her children after having already spared her and her friends so many times?

It had to run out, eventually.

She shifted, fatigue dragging at her, and lay down with her head on Kili's thigh. Once there she curled up, pulled her legs in and wrapped an arm around them, creating a protective cocoon around her stomach.

Kili didn't say anything. He probably didn't know what to say. It was ironic in a way. She and Kili were the youngest among the Company, the least likely to know how to deal with a situation like this, and the only ones currently capable of doing so.

Bilba took a deep breath. "How did we get out?"

"There used to be a small colony of intelligent ravens near Erebor," Kili answered. "Before Smaug attacked we had an alliance with them. Uncle was desperate. He knew he needed help and there was no time to walk back to Lake-town and return. He went looking and found descendants of the Ravens. One of them agreed to fly to Lake-town and get aid."

Bilba frowned. She shifted until she was laying on her back, looking up at him. "In return for what?" The people of Lake-town, aside from Bard, didn't know them, owed them nothing.

"Uncle promised them a significant payment. They came and, together, everyone was able to break through the rock and get to us, just in time according to Oin."

As he spoke his voice grew tense. "What aren't you telling me?"

Kili's eyes cut to the side, his jaw clenched. It made him look years older. It made him look like Thorin in fact and, for the first time, Bilba found herself wondering where he was. It wasn't as though she expected him to be glued to her side. He was the King under the Mountain now, he had responsibilities.

The same went for the others. They had a mountain to clean up, alliances to restore. They'd spent most of their lives waiting for this moment. She couldn't expect them to set it all aside for her.

Still...she'd spent nearly seven months in their company and fallen in love with their leader. She'd started to think of them as family and had hoped, however faintly, they might feel the same way toward her.

And, as selfish as the thought probably was, not having them there when she woke up hurt.

Kili hadn't answered her.

Bilba grimaced and struggled to a sitting position, one hand protectively cradling her stomach in spite of her fear there was nothing left to protect.

Kili's hands grabbed her and helped her up. As he did it occurred to Bilba she didn't feel as exhausted as she would expect. Looking at herself for the first time she noted that, while thin, she actually had more weight than she remembered from those last few moments of consciousness.

"Kili," she whispered, her mind going back to hazy memories. "How long have I been asleep?"

"You were a lot worse off than I was," Kili started, stumbling a bit over his words. "You were so much smaller and..." he clenched his jaw, "you had the babies...so..."

"Kili," Bilba repeated, her voice hard, "how long was I asleep?"

He swallowed. "Two weeks. You've been out, more or less, for two weeks."

Bilba blinked, her mind struggling to comprehend. Two weeks her mind repeated dully. It certainly explained why Kili looked so hale.

Her hand slid over her stomach, fingers lightly probing the small swell. The tiny, tiny flicker in the back of her mind grew just a bit. Would it still be there if she'd lost her children? Wouldn't it have gone down?

Kili's eyes followed her hand. "I thought about talking to Oin," he said, "but he'd tell Thorin and I knew..." He shrugged helplessly.

Bilba forced a weak smile. "What's done is done. I doubt him knowing would have made much difference." She reached out and slid her hands along both sides of his face, turning him to face her fully. "Now, why don't you tell me whatever it is you're trying so hard to hide? Two weeks is a long time. What's happened?"

Kili sighed and his entire body seemed to sag. "I don't know," he said, his voice tired. "Everything was fine at first. Uncle was so worried about you. He wouldn't leave your side for two days. He didn't even eat or sleep. He just sat, waiting for you to wake up."

Bilba felt her heart leap. She hadn't been abandoned after all. "Okay," she continued, keeping her voice level. "Then what?"

Kili grimaced. "Dwalin caught some of the Men trying to raid the Treasury. They had sacks full of jewels and gold and were trying to haul it off. When Uncle confronted them they claimed they were just taking their due. Uncle promised to pay and they started demanding outrageous sums." He hesitated and then allowed, "Not all of them...Bard was there and he argued for everyone to be patient and not give in to greed but the group was split down the middle."

"Let me guess," Bilba said. "The Master was somehow behind it." She'd never met the man but, given Thorin's stories of him, she imagined he was particularly odious.

Kili nodded. "The Master saw an opening in Uncle's desperation. There was no contract, no set terms, just a plea for aid."

He's so greedy that, rather than settle for an outrageous amount, he demands it all.

Bilba dropped her hands and closed her eyes closed in despair. "This is my fault. The plan was my idea. If I hadn't--"

Kili's hand grabbed her chin and pulled her head up to face him. "Are you going to blame yourself for the Master's greed now too?" He forced a small smile. "Not everything is your fault, Bilba. You focus too much on what you think you've done wrong and little on what you've done right. We wouldn't have been saved from the Trolls if you hadn't been free. You saved Uncle from that thing in the cave and from Azog. We would have been killed by the spiders if you hadn't released Dwalin and helped get us out and, good plan or not, your idea with Smaug worked." He grinned at her, a genuine smile for the first time. "We have Erebor back because of you."

Bilba snorted, a smile tugging at her own lips. "I think you all contributed, a little."

Kili smirked.

"Okay," Bilba said, taking a deep breath. "So the Master and his henchmen and Bard and his group. What happened?"

The light dimmed in Kili's eyes again. "Bard is apparently well liked and has a lot of support. It seemed likely he would win the argument."

"But," Bilba said, hearing the unspoken word.

"Thranduil showed up," Kili said, anger creeping in his voice. "And demanded a portion of the treasure. He insists it's owed to him by right from before Erebor fell. He also started inciting the Men further, stating they should demand Uncle rebuild Dale, since it never would have been destroyed if not for the gold luring the dragon."

Bilba shivered, the cold of the small room reaching her. "I imagine Thorin loved that."

"Uncle..." Kili shook his head. "Uncle threw them out and barricaded the doors. He's stated that any attempt to enter Erebor will be considered an act of war."

Bilba stared. "War?" she said dumbly. "He wants to go to war with the elves and the men of Lake-town?" She pushed away from him and struggled to her feet. Dizziness assailed her and she staggered. She probably would have hit the floor but Kili jumped up and grabbed her, wrapping both arms around her waist to support her. Bilba held onto him, giving her head a slight shake as she waited for the dizziness to subside. "Where is he? I need to talk to him."

"He's in the Treasury," Kili tightened his grip. "They all are, searching for the Arkenstone."

"The Arkenstone?" Bilba said blankly. "Why? What good does it do now? They wanted it to raise an army to kill the dragon. He's dead."

Kili bit his lip, and then scowled, apparently coming to a decision. "Uncle sent word to our cousin Dain, Lord of the Iron Hills, and requested his army to defend Erebor. He worded the claim as being from the King under the Mountain. The problem is that Dain has the same bloodline as Uncle, going back to Durin himself."

"Meaning he can lay claim to the throne," Bilba said, piecing it together. "Unless Thorin has the addition of the Arkenstone which--"

"Most dwarves accept as being a gift from Mahal granting the divine right to rule," Kili finished. "If Dain arrived and found it himself it would be thought that Mahal had chosen him over Uncle to be King under the Mountain."

"Would he do that?" Bilba questioned.

"I don't think so," Kili replied, "but Uncle...he's not himself."

Bilba was feeling better. She straightened in Kili's arms, stepping away to support herself. "What do you mean?"

"Ever since the issue with the men and then Thranduil he's been different," Kili continued. "He's paranoid, really paranoid. He thinks everyone is out to take the treasure and mountain from him. He's convinced the Arkenstone is his only hope and spends every waking moment in the Treasury looking for it." Kili locked eyes on her. "Once Dain and his army arrive he plans to use the Arkenstone to command them to fight for him, against Thranduil and the men of Lake-town."

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Bilba growled. "I didn't go on this idiotic quest just to watch him throw it all away for a pile of gold and a shiny rock."

She stomped out of the room and stopped short at the sight of an unfamiliar hall stretching off in both directions. "Kili."

He stepped up next to her. "Yes?"

"Which way is the Treasury?"

He grinned and offered an arm. Bilba rolled her eyes and took it, trying to pretend she wasn't leaning on him more than she normally would. They started moving again, slowly.

"Where's Fili?"

"In the Treasury." Kili answered. "He's been trying to get through to Uncle."

"And everyone else?"

Kili sighed and shrugged. "They aren't happy but they don't see it as their place to say anything." He gave her a rueful look. "Keep in mind these are all people so loyal to Uncle they undertook what should have been a suicide mission simply because he asked them to. Now, it's succeeded. Thorin is King." He gave a slight grin. "Dwalin's been telling him off about as much as Fili has and Balin keeps trying to counsel him. Uncle finally got so mad he threatened to throw the lot of them out of the mountain if they kept it up." His smile faded. "Since then only Fili's dared continued to challenge him."

Bilba felt a chill in her gut.

They continued the walk in silence.

The air began to change well before they reached the Treasury. At first it was vague, so faint that Bilba wasn't entirely sure if it was real or imagined. With every step closer, however, it grew stronger until there could be no doubt.

The smell of rot, sickly sweet and nauseating, so thick in the air she felt as though it coated her tongue and throat.

Kili stopped, his own features twisting. "I keep telling myself I'm remembering it worse than it was," he muttered. "Then I go near again and find out that, if anything, I wasn't remembering it bad enough."

He fished in his pockets and came up with a few handkerchiefs. He handed her one and proceeded to tie the other one over his mouth and nose. "It doesn't help much," he said, "but you can at least fool yourself into thinking it does."

Bilba tied the one he'd handed her around her mouth and nose. As warned, the cloth barely took the edge off the stench. Kili took her hand again and they continued.

The smell grew worse, so bad her eyes watered and nausea roiled almost constantly in her throat.

"And you say they're all in there with that?" she asked Kili, "and they've stayed?"

Kili nodded. "Now you see why I'm so worried."

Bilba agreed silently.

The entrance to the Treasury came into view. Bilba saw mounds of rubble blocking most of it. An opening had been driven straight through the middle; the edges jagged and uneven, the supports jammed and wedged in every which way. She felt her steps slow and, without thinking, drew closer to Kili's side.

He paused as well. "We don't have to go in," he said. "You could wait out here and I'll go get him."

Bilba took a deep breath, and promptly gagged, practically able to feel the smell squelching down her throat. "No," she choked, "let's go."

Kili sighed, resigned.

They started moving again, through the door and into the Treasury itself.

By that time Bilba's eyes were watering so badly it was difficult to see anything but a blur. This was probably a good thing as Smaug's corpse dominated the room and, even through the tears, she saw enough of his decaying carcass to haunt her dreams for years.

Kili tugged her away, murmuring something under his breath as he moved her in an odd pattern over the coins.

It was only as the corner of her foot hit something slick and she slipped, forcing Kili to steady her that she understood he was trying to guide her around the pools of rot and decay that had slipped off the dragon.

"I think I'm going to be sick," she muttered.

"It's a good place for it," Kili said dryly. He nodded toward the back of the Treasury. "Uncle liked your idea of where the Arkenstone would be so they've been searching the area around Smaug's nest the entire time."

Bilba frowned. "And they haven't found it? Maybe it's not even there."

Something in Kili's face seemed to twitch, an odd expression she didn't recognize flitting across his features for an instant.

"Come on," he pulled her toward where she remembered Smaug's nest being.

She started to hear the clink of coins and the clunk of heavy objects being moved. Every so often Thorin's voice would ring out, harsh and tinged with frustration, and Bilba would feel her heart jump in response.

Finally they moved over a mound of gold and Bilba caught sight of the Company, ringed out around Smaug's nest. Deep holes had been dug through the treasure, items of incredible value tossed to the side as though they were worth nothing. Oddly enough, no one but her and Kili had cloth tied over their face. Were the others so obsessed with finding the Arkenstone they didn't notice the smell of rotting dragon?

Her eyes sought out Thorin and found him at the far end of the nest.

She stumbled to a stop, her eyes wide.

Thorin had cleaned himself up at some point, the dirt and grime of seven months gone from his hair and body. He'd changed his clothing too; going from the travel weary gear she'd become used to seeing to gleaming, gold and black armor. He wore a crown on his head, matching the armor in color and design, and a heavy, velvet cloak flowed from his shoulders and down his back.

He was every inch the King under the Mountain.

Bilba knew that. She knew he was a King. She knew Fili and Kili were Princes.

But, while familiarity may not have bred contempt, it had certainly bred a failure to truly understand that Thorin was a King.

She was used to seeing him slogging through mud and muck with the rest of them, taking his turn on watch, cursing at the cold when forced to bathe in ice laden creeks and rivers. She'd grown accustomed to the blacksmith, the traveler, the road weary warrior.

But that had all been a façade. This, this was Thorin Oakenshield.

Son of Thrain.