Bilbo slept lightly.

The scuttling and scratching of tiny clawed feet on branches and the sheer, impenetrable darkness kept him from falling into a deep slumber. He was amazed how any one managed to get any sleep, but the low snoring of his companions did prove to be a comfort in the long night. Even though he couldn't see them, he knew they were there.

That was something at least.

Normally, he would rise when the fist steaks of sunlight passed through his curtains at Bag End, but now, hardly any sun reached the forest floor so he had to gently shaken out of his sleep by Bofur. Who had seemed to make it his business to rouse the hobbit each morning, so that he didn't get an impatient kick in the backside by Dwalin, or Thorin.

"G'morning Master Hobbit." said Bofur, in a half whisper.

"Is it?" Bilbo question dryly.

Bofur considered this. "Well, not really. But at least it's not pitch black anymore, up you get laddie, before my brother eats your share of breakfast."

That got Bilbo moving, breakfast was the most important meal of the day, as well as second breakfast... the hobbit remembered all eight of his meals with fondness. And yet, it seemed foreign to him, almost greedy, to eat so much when he thought of what the dwarves had been through.

Thorin had toiled for years just to keep his family fed, and dealing with the crushing loss of his father and grandfather, while in the meanwhile Bilbo and other hobbits like him were simply a spoiled, comfortable life. It made him feel slightly ashamed, and at least now he understood Thorin's initial hostility towards him.

Breakfast was a rushed affair, as no one really cared to stay where they were, and the sooner they were moving the better, as the little daylight was precious.

Bilbo did feel a bit light-headed as he gathered up his things, he assumed it was just lingering tiredness from the lack of sleep he'd been getting recently. He winced, and rubbed his temple, still, mustn't grumble.

Bilbo's dread grew with each passing, hour minute and second as they moved on. For now he knew that it was too late to turn back, the only thing they could do was stay on the path. But Bilbo could see it becoming more, and more overgrown and the chances of losing it grew also.

He had good eyes, but they did not serve him well in the constant dim light, and then the dizziness returned. It suddenly occurred to Bilbo that he didn't feel like himself, his head buzzed and there was an uncomfortable pressure behind his eyeballs.

He thought it might be dehydration, so he took small sips from his water skin, careful not to waste it, as Beorn had warned them against drinking any of Mirkwood's water. It had rather unsavoury effects on you. Made you see things that weren't really there.

Bilbo drank, but it helped little, still he kept pace with the others, tense lines in his face being the only indication that he was in any pain.

Then the hobbit found that the trees were wobbling from side to side.

It was in fact, himself, struggling to stay upright as his balance left him. His head was pounding now and his stomach lurched, he tasted bile in the back of his throat. This would not do, he'd already fainted in front of the company, he really didn't want them to see him being sick.

"Mister Boggins!" Kili rushed over to where Bilbo had stumbled, everyone came to a halt and there seemed to be ten pairs of hands helping him up. The hobbit was grateful, but a strange thing happened, the dizziness was gone as soon as it had arrived. It was almost as if he had imagined it, but surly not. Bilbo really hoped not.

The last thing he needed was to lose him mind.

"What's the matter?" demanded Thorin, pushing his way towards the hobbit. "Are you ill?"

"No-no.." Bilbo reassured. "Just a bit dizzy, that's all, I feel fine now.."

Thorin narrowed his icy eyes and studied the hobbit, he didn't seem convinced. "We cannot afford for any delays, Halfing."

Bilbo bristled. "Well, I'm terribly sorry to inconvenience you, and I am not half of anything."

Thorin kept a carefully crafted look of stony neutrality, if he was worried, Bilbo doubted that he would let the company see. "I did not mean to cause offence to you, Master Baggins, however, I suggest that if you are unwell then you let Oin see to you. And be quick about it." He looked upwards at the canopy. "We are losing the daylight as it is."

Bilbo sighed. "I am quite alright."

"It wasn't a suggestion, hobbit." rumbled Thorin, giving Bilbo his Do-Not-Make-Me-Ask-Twice look.

If the hobbit had been on full form he would have protested, but as it was he accepted defeat and slunk off to the front of the line of dwarves where Oin was waiting for him.

"Master Hobbit." the healer greeted.

"Oin." Bilbo replied. "I feel fine, honestly, I don't know what Thorin's so huffy about."

"Let me be the judge of that, eh?" Oin smiled, taking a gentle hold of Bilbo'd head and looking into his eyes.

"Its this forest! Oh Mahal, we're going to start dropping like flies!" Dori sounded mildly hysterical, and he clutched Ori close to him.

Bilbo groaned, and it wasn't from any headache.

–-

Thorin would never admit to his protective streak.

It left him vulnerable, admitting to care about something, or worse, someone, as it seemed that fate was determined to take away all the good in his life.

Besides, what a king needed was aloof, solemn majesty.

That's the way his father went about things, and it would have served him well if he'd ever gotten to be crowned.

So, like father like son. But secretly Thorin preyed to Mahal that a cold exterior was all he inherited. He wasn't his grandfather, or father, so he hoped history would not repeat itself. For he knew his family might not survive the devastation of the Gold Sickness the third time around.

He woke at sunrise, at least he thought it was sunrise, as time was very difficult to tell in Mirkwood.

The forest seemed to exist in a kind of grey limbo, you didn't know whether it was early morning or afternoon, and the blackness of night would come on so suddenly that it caught you by surprise.

The company seemed in quiet spirits, and Thorin couldn't fault them for it. This wood had a way of making you feel very small indeed, like a mouse hurrying along the ground, trying not to be picked off or stepped on.

It was the air. It contained something oppressive, something sinister that Thorin couldn't see, and he had felt fear tickle him whenever he drew breath.

Then the hobbit-burglar fainted.

Kili let out a cry from the back of their formation and The king spun around to see him holding up the small creature, who looked dazed.

That protective streak in him took over his body and despite himself he rushed over to Master Baggins' side. His company were gathered around the hobbit, eyes full of concern, and in the case of Dwalin, slight irritation.

Thorin asked what the matter was, and the hobbit, as expected, tried to wave him off. Recently he'd picked up a worrying habit of hiding his hurts, and not telling anyone if he was feeling ill. It was incredibly foolish, and dangerous.

They'd brought Oin along for a reason, so why not make use of his healing abilities?

Curse the stubbornness of hobbits.

This time, Master Baggins didn't put up the fuss he normally did, and let Oin see to him. But instead of reassuring the king, it had the opposite effect.

If the Hobbit-burlgar didn't have it in him to fight Thorin on this, then something must be wrong.

Thorin was a dwarf who tended to think the worst, because, usually, that's what ended up happening. He saw optimism the same way as a deer sees a hunter's trap, nothing good.

Still, he had to keep his worry in check, and not let his company see his distress. They might get... ideas about the hobbit and himself, not that anything was happening.

But that wasn't because Thorin didn't want there to be anything between them, it was just not the right time.

Maybe when they reclaimed Erabor... he could get the hobbit-burglar on his own, just for a little while...

He went over to Oin and Master Baggins, keeping enough distance between them so it didn't look like he was hovering like a worried mother, but close enough so that he could watch what the healer was doing and hear what he was saying.

"Any other symptoms Master Hobbit?" asked Oin, peering into the small creature's face.

"None at all." Answered the hobbit-burglar, sounding bored. "Like I said, I am really, really fine."

Oin ignored him, and carried on with his examination, then Thorin suddenly realized that the older dwarf had his hands on Master Baggins, he was touching him... a lot.

Well, of course he was, being a healer required touching. So what Thorin was feeling was entirely irrational.

His hand gave an involuntary twitch when Oin gently felt the hobbit-burglar's neck, probably to see if he had swollen lymph glands... but still.

If the king was honest, he wasn't quite sure he could define his feelings at this moment; jealousy seemed too childish and simple. Close, and yet so far.

The examination seemed to take twice as long as Thorin would have liked, but finally Oin let the hobbit go with a nod and a small smile.

At which Master Baggins threw his hands up in the air and declared loudly for all the company to hear "I told you I was fine! Honestly! Save me from the stubbornness of dwarves!" then, grumbling, he trotted off back to the congregation of dwarrows.

Thorin watched him go, then quietly said to Oin "Everything as it should be?"

Oin clicked his tongue and took Thorin's shoulder, gently directing him to a corner where they could talk out of earshot of the company.

"Oin?" Thorin questioned, feeling that bad news was on the horizon. "Is something wrong?"

"Not exactly." Oin confessed. "I couldn't find anything obviously wrong with our hobbit, but you were right to be concerned. I think the dizzy spell was caused by a reaction to the Mirkwood air. Who knows what nasties we're breathing in."

Thorin considered this. "Hmm. I was afraid of that. But why is he the only one affected then?"

Oin frowned in thought. "I wouldn't go around and say that hobbits are delicate folk, we've been proved wrong on that front many times on this venture... but, Master Baggins might not have the..err, strength of chest as dwarrows do."

The king crossed his arms. "So, what are saying?"

The healer stroked his beard. "I'm saying that while the hobbit might be the first, he won't be the last. Bofur told me he was feeling a bit strange earlier on, so it won't be long before we're all tumbling about with bad heads."

This was the bad news Thorin had been waiting for, if Oin was right, then the implications of this could be disastrous.

"Is there anything to be done?" Thorin asked.

Oin shook his head. "I don't reckon so Laddie, we can't help the air we breathe... but I wouldn't want to linger here any longer than we have to."

Thorin didn't miss the healer's meaning, and immediately jumped into action.

"We're moving on!" he called. "And we need to pick up the pace, we only have small amount of time to find the hidden door!"

"Aye!" someone called, and forward the company went.

Deeper and deeper into the deep dark wood.