It seemed to Bilbo that things went very quickly for a little while after that, and then slowed down to a crawl, and then trotted off again at their own pace, leaving him, bewildered, in the midst of things. There was an awful lot of shouting for a bit, and a truly impressive moment where Thorin Oakenshield was reduced to speechlessness, and then people were shouting again, and Bilbo thought it a very real possibility that Thorin was going to get his throat cut right then and there.

In another time, a mere fortnight before, he might well have stood and watched it happen. He was no longer the same disinterested Hobbit he had been, now - but these days, he wasn't quite sure what he was. Bilbo wasn't really interested in arguing about things like blame and whether or not he deserved such an ending, and he wasn't concerned with his duty as the Healer. As he watched the scene before him with a distressed fascination, there was a sudden, traitorous part of his heart that could only scream desperately at him - 'not again, not again, not again' - and he darted forward, putting his hands up in his most conciliatory manner.

"Now, please, everyone," he managed, in the best official voice he could conjure up, "let's just settle down for a moment, hmmm? Can't we talk about this?"

"What is there to talk about?" Dis snapped. She took her eyes off Thorin just long enough to shoot a dangerous glare at Bilbo. "He stole my children from me. I warned him when he took my babe that if I ever saw him again, I would have his head!"

Bilbo spent a moment composing himself - and quickly rethinking everything he had ever thought he had known about Dwarves, because he had been under the mistaken impression that it was the warriors and scrappers like Dwalin who were the most frightening among the race. Dis had destroyed that belief in only a moment. She was pure fury, anger now radiating from her coldly as she spoke in a calm, controlled voice that was the most frightening sound he had ever heard.

"I - I can't argue with that," he said, holding out a hand as if to pacify her - and suddenly having the oddest feeling that he had done this with something before - something else terrifying and majestic. "You're well within your rights, oh lady, and I don't think that anyone could blame you. But I think we need him alive."

She raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"It's a long story, and I don't know that I'm the best one to tell it," Bilbo prevaricated - and then babbled on again when her eyebrows took on a distinctly threatening tone. "Look, I'll explain it all, I will! Just don't kill him yet." He sighed, and patted his damaged leg meaningfully. "I understand the impulse, really I do. Thorin destroyed my leg, my life, and very nearly my sanity - but I gave up on getting revenge on him despite it all. Please, just give us time to explain."

Dis looked at Thorin for a long while, and then stepped back, gradually letting go of his collar and removing her knife. "Frerin, keep him under guard, will you? I don't want him going anywhere until I say so."

Frerin grinned ferally, pulling out a long knife of his own and tossing it meaningfully. He caught it, without ever taking his eyes off his brother. "Have I ever let you down?"

Dis rolled her eyes, and carefully tied her long, dark hair up into a messy knot at the back of her head. She straightened her shoulders and looked them over, then beckoned. "Come on. If this is to be a long story, I'd rather keep my hands busy while I hear it." She started off into the darkness at a breakneck pace, even for a Dwarf, and Bilbo groaned as he set off behind her. He found himself trotting to keep up, but was comforted by the fact that his companions were likewise struggling in the dark. Thorin was kept in the middle of the pack now, with Frerin and his knife to hand, and Bilbo wondered absently how much of his life (or rather his lives), in relative terms, had been spent running around dark places trying to keep up with people a great deal bigger than himself. Far more than he cared to admit, that was certain.

They didn't go far this time - a small mercy, for which Bilbo was infinitely grateful - and Dis brought them to a sudden halt in a middling-sized cavern that had been transformed into a well-appointed workroom. Waving a dismissive hand at them to indicate they should settle themselves, Dis moved behind a sturdy workbench, pulling on a pair of brass-rimmed goggles as she spoke.

"Your story, then, Healer. It had better be convincing." She bent close to the bench and began working on something that Bilbo couldn't quite see on the high worksurface, but which seemed to involve an uncomfortable frequency of little flashes of light and small explosions.

"Yes, I - well," Bilbo began eloquently. "I don't properly know where to start. I suppose it all began when Fili came crashing into my house."

Dis looked up sharply at that, and Frerin gave a low whistle of surprise. "Fili? I thought he was still locked away in that school!"

Bilbo drew in a deep breath, only now beginning to realise just how much of the story he needed to tell. It was a long and painful process, explaining all of their odd symptoms to Dwarves who had never experienced such dreams or scars. Bofur showed some of his own scars as proof, though, and that went a long way to easing the suspicion that darkened their faces at his improbable tale. He tried to tread rather carefully around the issue of Thorin's treatment of Fili, and, indeed, his general state of degradation, but he saw the glares both of Thorin's siblings directed his way. There was not a great deal of love to be found in this little family just now, he realised sadly.

But it was the story of Kili that caused the most trouble, naturally. When Bilbo finally explained exactly where he had been, and why they had not recognised him as a Dwarf for so long, Frerin actually growled, and Dis accidentally set fire to some small things on the workbench.

"Do you mean to tell me that, because of my brother's arrogant certainty that he knew what was best for all of us, my child was raised by Men?" Dis asked, in a low, dangerous voice. She moved out from behind the workbench, holding a dangerous-looking tool like a weapon, and advanced on Thorin. Frerin stood, unmoving, beside him, and Thorin had nowhere to run. "You mean to tell me that my son suffered at the hands of Men - that my children grew up apart, when they should have grown together like the roots of trees on the mountains? All because my misbegotten fool of a brother believes himself to have lived other lives, and thought he knew better than their own mother?" She never raised her voice, not one increment, but Bilbo stepped quickly back, wondering how rude it might seem if he darted behind the workbench for cover.

Thorin raised his head slowly to look at his sister, and there was so much deep sorrow in his expression that Bilbo could not tear his eyes away. He did not speak a word, but neither did he look away. Thorin and Dis would have seemed to have been locked in a childish staring competition, were it not for the stakes that Bilbo knew were in play. Finally, Dis shifted a little, and spoke.

"Tell me, Thorin. Now that we stand here, looking over the consequences of your decision, do you still believe you were right?"

Thorin's face underwent the smallest, subtlest change - and Bilbo thought that what he was looking at was actually remorse. "No," Thorin rasped after a moment. "I should never have separated them."

"And you should never have taken them from me," Dis hissed, hand tightening on the grip of her tool. "What you have done to this family cannot be undone. My sons still live when I thought them dead or locked away, and yet there is little joy in it for me. What life is there for them now? What hope to be found in this foul city, or following the foolish plans of their reckless uncle?" She shook her head, and sorrow darkened again to fury in her fair face. Bilbo snatched a quick, calming breath, and then started forward again.

"But don't you understand, that's just what I'm saying! There's no hope for any of you in Erelin. We've got to get the Dwarves out while there are any yet living!"

Dis spun on him, and Bilbo fought every instinct he possessed, willing himself to remain calm. "What are you talking about, Healer? You've talked and talked of my brother and his band of the cursed, but you've not told me why it means we must leave Erelin."

"It doesn't. It's the plague, as I told you!"

"This plague," Frerin said slowly. "You say it's coming from the docks?"

"Yes," Bilbo snapped, growing impatient with repeating himself. "That's where it started, and where most of the cases have been located."

Frerin looked over to Dis, shrugging an easy shoulder. "Blow up the docks, then?"

"Should help, at least," she replied, suddenly all business. She holstered the tool she'd been threatening Thorin with, turning her back on him in a clear dismissal, and swept back over behind her workbench. "We still have enough explosive left over from the track bombing to make a decent start. Fire should do the rest. Burn all the ships?"

"I do love the smell of the flames," Frerin said happily.

"No, no, wait!" Bilbo babbled, as his stomach turned to lead. "Blow them up? Blow up the docks and the ships? That's your plan?"

"It's been our general plan of action these past twenty years or so," Frerin told him cheerfully. "I see no reason to change it now."

"So you have been the ones doing the sabotage?" Bofur asked, brow wrinkling in concern. "And here we Delvers have been getting all the credit!"

"We're not concerned with the credit," Dis said absently, now digging through a stack of what looked like city plans that were piled high on one corner of her table. "As long as we're hurting the Men and undermining their control, it's enough."

"But what about the Dwarves who get caught up in it?" Bilbo demanded. There was a hard little core of anger in the pit of his stomach that seemed to be waking up, kindling into a flame of his own. "Do you know how many are arrested, even executed, after your raids? Do you know how many more restrictions I've seen placed on the freedoms and movements of Dwarves in the past few years because you've got the Governance so frightened? What you're doing isn't helping anyone!"

Dis slammed a hand down on her table, sending some of the smaller pieces plummeting to the floor with a heart-stopping crash that made Bilbo jump. "There is nothing else left to us!" Her voice was a shout, now, and Bilbo locked his knees, trying to stand tall in the face of that fury. "No future, no hope, no family! My children were stolen by my own brother! What else were we to do? Our city is a prison, ruled over by Men who hate us for existing. There is nothing left to us but destruction."

Frerin laughed merrily - a shockingly odd sound, given the circumstances - and clapped a friendly hand on Bilbo's shoulder. "Besides, little Healer - haven't you ever watched things burn? It's a cleansing, in a way." His face hardened a little, though he still smiled. "Better to burn the whole city and be done with it."

"By all that's green, is there NO sense left in the entire race of Dwarves?" Bilbo shouted, surprising even himself. His hands were shaking, but he put that aside and pressed on. "Despair and destruction, that's all you lot can see! You've all given up! I seem to be the only one left with any thought of saving the remnants of your miserable race!" He stomped over toward Thorin, and jabbed a finger at his chest. "You! Apologise, and mean it! You've got yourself into this situation, but there's still time to make things right again, if you don't give up." He pointed the same finger at Frerin, whose manic smile had faded now into a more sane look. "You - no setting fire to anything! I mean it! Not until we've got a plan." He wanted to point at Dis in the same way, but his nerve failed, and he settled for extending a hand toward her imploringly. "Lady, can't you look for what hope may be left? Your sons are alive - maybe not as you would have wished them, but they are fine young Dwarves. Go to them, and see what hope is still left."

He looked around at all of them, most of whom were staring at him in shock. "Don't despair," he begged them. "It's not finished yet. Bofur, you've told us again and again that you are not abandoned. Hold to that! There is life, still, outside this city. I've lived there and seen it! There are clear skies where you can see the stars dance all through the night and into the morning, and little rivers that still run clean and good, and a whole world with no walls around it. There are green and growing things outside the walls of this city." He extended his hands out to them all, feeling like he was trying to offer them the world, and not at all sure they were interested in it.

"What you say is a dream," Thorin said slowly. "You speak of a world that no longer belongs to us. Dwarves have no part in it."

"Only because you've decided you don't!" Bilbo protested. "Erelin will be the death of you all, if you stay. Come with me, instead. I'll show you the green places, if only we could get out of this city."

"That's all you want?" Dis asked slowly. She was firmly under control again, and pushed her goggles up onto her forehead to think. "A way out?"

"For as many as possible," Bilbo said fervently. "It's the only hope the healthy Dwarves still have."

Dis and Frerin exchanged a long, meaningful glance, and then Dis spun on a heel and started off deeper into the dark. "We may have something," she called back over her shoulder, voice echoing in the halls. "We were trying to develop a way of getting high enough above the city to be out of reach, and to be able to target the places of Men more accurately, but it just might help you now."

Through a series of long corridors they hurried, and Bilbo cursed a bit as his leg began to throb in earnest, pushed past all of the limits. To his surprise, Thorin caught up with him and offered him an arm.

"What are you doing?" Bilbo asked, blinking at him in shock.

"It was I that injured you," Thorin said stiffly. "I am at fault. Allow me to assist in this small way."

Part of Bilbo wanted to turn him away. He wanted as little to do with Thorin as possible, to be honest; the memory of his fury and what it had done to Bilbo's life was still strong in him. But his leg ached damnably, and there was no telling how much longer he might have to limp through endless miles of twisting stone corridor. He put his arm gingerly on top of Thorin's, and gradually eased as much weight onto it as possible. It didn't take the pain away, but Bilbo still breathed a sigh of relief. Between his cane and Thorin's support, he no longer had to put much weight on the leg at all.

He could not have guessed how long they walked. Time seemed to move strangely deep down below the earth. All he could say for certain was that he was heartily sick of stone walls, and the feeling of being enclosed. When they stopped, it was outside the first proper door that Bilbo had seen below ground. Dis and Frerin each took out a key and fitted them to the two different keyholes, turning them at the same time, in a ceremony that they had clearly practiced many times before.

"This," Frerin said with delight, "is our best work." He pushed the door wide, and they followed Dis inside, to the most magnificent sight Bilbo had ever seen.

It sat in the middle of a huge, echoing room that looked like it had once been a well-appointed great hall of some Dwarven kingdom. Great pillars ran from floor to ceiling, and even in the gloom, Bilbo could see intricate carvings of stone and metal on the walls and the roof of the hall. The object they had come to see was a - well, a contraption of some sort was the best description Bilbo could come up with at first glance. It was larger than some of the small ships that he had seen, and far larger than the wagon that had brought him from the Shire to Erelin. It was constructed from a bewildering array of materials, so that he could not say what it was made of properly. Roughly speaking, it was shaped like a fat cigar with rounded ends.

"What is it?" Bofur asked, as gobsmacked as Bilbo felt.

"Airship," Dis said proudly, reaching out to tweak something on the surface back into place. "Dirigible, if you like."

"We haven't named it yet." Frerin said, shaking his head solemnly. "Dis doesn't like any of my ideas."

She ignored him and went on. "It should be able to get us above the city, and hopefully over the wall, but it's not built for distances."

"How d'you get it out of here?" Dwalin asked, sounding impressed despite himself. "Not going to do us much good underground, is it?"

"Blow things up, of course!" Frerin declared, happy once again. "We've rigged the roof here to blow out when we need it. There's actually only a very thin layer of rock above us here. We'll have a clear shot."

"It's not finished yet. Two, three more days," Dis said briskly. She gave the contraption a gentle pat, and nodded at them. "Can you get your people together in time?"

"You can't fit the whole city in this thing!" Bilbo protested. "It would take dozens of trips to evacuate all of the living, even if the plague keeps moving fast."

"We're not going to do that," Dis said, glancing over at Frerin. He raised a wild-looking eyebrow, and smiled dangerously.

"In here, we can't get close to the walls or gates. Too well-defended, to keep us in. But from the outside, we can blow them sky-high!" He laughed then, a wild dancing thing, and Bilbo thought that this Dwarf would burn down the world just to see the flames flicker.

"And then what?" Dwalin asked gloomily. "Blow up the walls, and then? The Men will still have a sword at our throats, and we will still have nowhere to go."

"We go home." Balin's voice was more certain than Bilbo had heard it before. He looked over at the old watchmaker. Balin straightened up, neatening his beard, and adjusted his spectacles a little. "To Erebor."

"No." Thorin might have been made of stone, for all the feeling in his voice. "I will not go to that place again. A thousand years, I have led you to torment and death for that mountain, and I will not do it again."

Balin looked up sharply, and pressed his lips together in clear deliberation. With steady steps, he made his way to Thorin, and gently reached up to grasp Thorin's face between both of his hands, urging him to bend a little until they were nearly face to face. "Oh lad," Balin said quietly, shaking his head. "I have failed you before now. Though I cannot remember all things, I know I am guilty in this. I saw you stumble and lose your way, and I did not steer you back on your path. I allowed you to be a King to me, when it was an advisor you most needed." He shook his head and closed his eyes in sorrow. "I chose to be blind to your fall, because I was tired. Now, I am both weary and blind in body, but I am finally seeing clearly." He moved his hands to Thorin's shoulders and squeezed gently. "You must do this thing, Thorin. You must lead us now - back to Erebor. It is the only hope left for your people."

"It has brought us nothing but death and despair!" Thorin whispered, in a harsh tone that carried through the cavern. "I have watched the torment it brought upon all of you - my kin, my loyal hearts! How can you advise this path, Balin? Five times, I have thought I could retake Erebor and make it a home again, and five times, I have seen nothing but failure!"

"So let us help you, laddie! Don't take it all on yourself." Balin shook his head, and removed his glasses, smiling at Thorin with such gentleness that Bilbo felt his heart clench a little. "We are grown old now, Thorin, and so is this world. We are at the end of all hope, unless you will give it to us one last time."

Thorin looked up and glanced around their little group. Dwalin's arms were crossed, and he dipped his head in something like a bow of assent. Bofur sighed deeply and reached out to touch the stone beside him, tracing reverent fingers over the surface of the stone.

"We are not abandoned," he said formally - and then smiled, crooked and kind, and bent down to pick up a stone. He took it over to Thorin and placed it in his right hand, clasping his own over it. "He who made the stones and made the Dwarves will not leave us to die here. We will follow you in the shadow of the Maker's hammer."

Thorin was beginning to look a little more than overwhelmed, and Bilbo blinked in surprise as the Dwarf looked over to him just as he had his other advisors, looking for his input. Bilbo shrugged, feeling rather absurd at being included in such an important counsel, and cleared his throat.

"I will do what I can to help you escape," he said stiffly. "I said I would show you the green things of the world, and so I shall. If we can escape from the city and make a way for the people to leave, I will come with you as far as the Shire. My mission as Healer of Erelin will be completed." He shuffled his feet, aware of the absurdity of himself, there in that Dwarven place. "I don't know how much help I can give, but you shall have what I can offer."

Thorin stared at him intently for a long while - and Bilbo was not certain whether he was evaluating the Hobbit who stood in front of him, or comparing him to the memory he had of the Bilbo who had traveled with him a thousand years before. It was an uncomfortable scrutiny, in either case. Finally, he looked away, and nodded tersely.

"I did not think to hope again," he said, voice low and rough. "I fear to see hopes dashed a final time. I fear I will be the same Dwarf I have been for a thousand years, and you will all regret following me, once again." He looked over to Dis and Frerin now, and bowed his head deeply to them. "If you will grant me a stay of execution, we may yet find a way forward.

"Through fire and foe?" Frerin grinned. "You will always find me willing!"

Dis glared at him coldly. "You cannot repair the damage you have done, Thorin."

"I cannot," he agreed. He went to her then, dropping to one knee and taking one of her hands, pressing his forehead against it. "Little sister, I have done great harm, in this life and in others. But I tell you this." He looked up at her, eyes glimmering in the dim light. "Everything I did, I did for them. For your sons. For a thousand years, I have loved them as my own children, and I have buried them too many times. You will see, when you remember the lives of your own past. I could not do it again, and I thought to prevent their deaths this last time."

She looked down on him impassively, but did not pull away. "My brother, you have done us a great wrong, and I will not forgive it so easily. I do not wish to hear of the death of my children, and I will not assent to these memories." She took her hand away, but without any violence, and after a moment's hesitation, she placed it atop his head. "I will not live in the past, Thorin, and neither should you. Get up, my brother, and walk forward - into hope or despair or whatever else you may find. It is better than remaining here, mired in the filth of Erelin."

There was a bright flare of something in Thorin's face as he stood again, and it seemed to change his entire visage. He looked younger, somehow, and taller, if that were possible. He nodded to her, and at the others, and suddenly Bilbo saw him again, for the first time.

Dark hair, streaked with silver, and piercing blue eyes that burned like dragonfire. He found himself smiling stupidly for an instant, and raised a hand to hide the evidence - but inside, something very much like hope, or something greener, was beginning to kindle.

After a long moment, Dwalin cleared his throat gruffly, and the spell was broken. Bofur rubbed his hands together, looking impossibly eager.

"Right. So the plan is that we finish building an airship that will very likely crash and kill us all, and use it to sneak out of this heavily-guarded prison city. Then, we blow up the walls, let the surviving Dwarves leave to escape the plague, and march off on yet another attempt at a quest that's killed us all at least five times, all under the eyes of Men who'd not much mind seeing us all dead?" He tugged at the earflaps of his awful hat, fixing it more firmly in place. "I do hope the Maker hasn't got his eyes on any other major projects right now. We'll need all the help we can get!"

"We also need to gather the rest of our company," Thorin added. "I will not leave them behind, if they still live. We're looking for a Dwarf named Nori, likely to be found either committing petty theft or under arrest for having done so. We'll also need to locate Gloin, brother to Oin." He nodded to Frerin and Dis. "Any information or assistance the Underground can provide would be most welcome."

"That's simple enough," Frerin offered. "We do that sort of thing all the time. We'll have them waiting for you by the time the ship is ready to go."

"How many in this Company of yours?" Dis asked briskly, beginning to scrawl incomprehensible numbers and symbols on a flat section of cavern with a soft white rock.

"There were fourteen all told, with Master Baggins," Thorin said quietly, sounding almost wistful. "Many times since, our numbers have been smaller."

"Fourteen, plus Frerin and me," Dis muttered, moving numbers and calculating faster than Bilbo could even keep up with, let alone comprehend. "Should be fine, even if you do find them all."

Bilbo snuck closer to Thorin so that he could whisper inconspicuously, "Bombur, too? He's one of us, isn't he?"

"Yes," Thorin murmured. "And Bifur, to complete the Company. Have you begin to remember, then?"

"Hints and snatches," Bilbo admitted.

"It will come in time," Thorin said glumly. "And then you may find yourself even less willing to follow me, Master Baggins."

"Let's just take that as it comes, shall we?" Bilbo smiled a little - such a strange thing, to be smiling at Thorin Oakenshield! - and wandered away again, moving to get a better look at the airship that would hopefully carry them away from Erelin.

There came a sound from out in the corridor - conversation and footfalls - and the rest of their little band followed Bifur into the room, and then stopped just inside the entrance, looking at the erstwhile airship in confusion.

"Ah!" Balin said cheerfully. "Let us introduce the rest of our number! These are Dori and Ori, brothers of Nori, and this excellent fellow is Oin, whose brother Gloin we are seeking." He chuckled a little. "Not long now until we're all reunited with lost brothers, I think!"

"And these," Thorin said formally, gently pushing his way toward the back of the pack and then shepherding them forward, "are Fili and Kili." He still looked on Kili with more than a little uncertainty, but there was none now to be heard in his voice. He pushed them forward until they stood right before Dis and Frerin. Dis had gone still as carven stone, until she did not even seem to still be breathing, and Frerin whistled low and long in surprise. "My sister-sons."

Dis' hand flew to her mouth, though she made no noise, and she did not blink, but looked them over carefully. Kili shrunk back under the scrutiny, making himself smaller and hiding behind his brother as much as he could. He looked more frightened than curious - but Fili was all wonderment, staring at Dis with his mouth open.

"You," he said quietly. "You are my mother, are you not?"

She gave a little muffled sob at that, but the smile that spread across her features was brilliant, even in the gloom. She nodded, a fast, jerky motion.

"I am, love," she whispered. "I did not think you would remember me. You were so young when they took you from me!"

"I remembered that you were beautiful," Fili whispered. As if in a trance, he moved forward toward her, and she grabbed him at once, clinging on with such obvious relief that it nearly hurt to watch. She spoke to him in an indistinguishable whisper in his ear, and when they finally broke apart, tears were shining on both faces.

"Oh, my Fili," she said with a little laugh, pulling back enough to look on his face and push back some of the braids that had swung in front of his face. "You've grown so tall!" He laughed at that, and then stepped back far enough to reach for Kili's sleeve, pulling at his brother. Kili did not move.

"I went looking for him, mama," Fili said eagerly - a child, pleading for a parents' approval, Bilbo thought absently. "I didn't even remember I had a brother, but I knew he was missing." He looked back and forth between them - but Kili and Dis were both standing still. Kili looked as though he would sink through the stone floor if he could, and Dis - Bilbo found he could not read her expression at all. Sometimes, even to him, Dwarves were still mysterious folk. "It's Kili, mama!" Fili explained.

"I know, love," she whispered. She took a careful step forward, then another, and then stopped as he tensed as if ready to flee. She put out a hand to him, which seemed to freeze him in place. "Hello, Kili."

He looked over to Bilbo, who was surprised to see near-panic on his face. It was the way the lad had used to react to everyone - the frightened reaction of a whipped puppy, rather than the strength and certainty that had started to grow in him again. Dis stepped forward again, and Bilbo moved forward on silent Hobbit-feet to stand behind Kili, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. The lad's muscles were all tense. After a frozen moment, Kili managed to execute a quick, awkward sailor's bow toward her, though he remained silent.

"I would have known you at a moment," she said quietly. She closed the gap another step, and then she was close enough to reach a gentle hand out to cup his cheek, barely touching his skin. "Oh, my baby. I never thought to see you again."

Kili shook his head a fraction, not taking his eyes off her. He came up only to her shoulder, and as Bilbo glanced around at the stocky forms of the other Dwarves, he wondered what her mothers' eyes were seeing in her son - this skinny, frightened figure of a boy who hardly looked like a Dwarf at all. "I'm not," he said quietly. "I'm no-one's baby."

"You are, my Kili," she said firmly - and, putting both hands on his face, she brought her forehead down to press against his own. "And so you shall be until the breaking of the world, no matter how tall you grow." After a moment, she pulled away, and smiled down at him and at Fili with such a breathtaking tenderness that Bilbo's heart caught in his throat.

Kili's eyebrows drew together in clear confusion, and Bilbo was reminded that the lad had precious little experience with family sentiments in his life so far - but then he shook his head a little, and looked at her directly.

"You thought I was reckless," he murmured. The faraway look in his eyes was one that Bilbo was becoming quite familiar with, as the Dwarves fought to regain their memories of the lives they had once lived. Bilbo blinked a little at that, because it was so completely opposite of what he knew of Kili to date. Part of him knew it had once been true - that the young brothers had been life and joy made flesh - but the Kili he had found in this world was cautious and remote, watching the world from behind too-old eyes. Dis shrugged a shoulder - exactly the same way that Fili did, Bilbo realised with faint delight - and shook her head.

"I don't know about that, love. All I know is what's in front of me here and now - and that is my sons, grown strong and good even without me." With a swift suddenness, she leaned in to press a kiss to each of their foreheads, and even Kili did not pull away. "And now, my sons, are you ready to help your poor old mother? We've rather a lot to get done, and little time."

"Of course!" Fili agreed at once. When Kili stayed quiet, Fili nudged him hard in the ribs.

"I would help," he said, keeping his eyes fixed on the floor. "But I haven't a clue how to do Dwarven work. All I know is the ships of Men."

"And that is precisely what we need," Frerin said, stepping forward with no trace out caution or reverence, and reaching out huge hands to ruffle both boys' hair. Kili froze again, but did not protest the gesture. "Nephew mine, you've got a bit to teach us, I'm afraid. We're trying to rig our airship to give us a maximum amount of control in the air, when we will have no contact with the earth. I've devised sails of a sort to catch the wind, but I can't work out how to work them."

Kili brightened at that, straightening up and shaking the hair out of his face. "Can I see?"

"Please!" Frerin gestured forward, and waited until both of the lads were moving (with a bit more than their customary speed, Bilbo noted, very glad to see some evidence of the natural curiosity of the young in them) before following them, with a broad wink to Dis as he sauntered off.

She turned to Bilbo, then, with a quizzical look. "And who are you to my sons, Master Healer, that they look at you with such trust?"

Bilbo shrugged, suddenly hot under the collar. "No-one. Fili came to my door because it was the only one open, and Kili trusts me little more than anyone else."

Her eyes flashed, and she folded her arms in a way that put him firmly in mind of Dwalin in his worst moods. "You underestimate your standing with them. If my sons have chosen to put their trust in you, Hobbit, I trust that you will not disappoint them?"

"I will do my utmost," Bilbo promised, with nothing short of sincerity. It warmed him a bit, somewhere buried down deep, that she thought they looked to him. He was no figure to be followed or emulated, but it did seem to him that he might at least steer them away from some of their fellow Dwarves' less salubrious habits, if given the opportunity.

"See that you do," she said quietly. Stepping closer, she bent down until her face was on a level with his own. "I do not think Frerin and I will be with you on this journey. We must look to Erelin, while you and the Company move to secure Erebor for us." Reaching up into her dark hair, she pulled out an elaborate silver bead and pressed it into his hand. "Look after my children, Master Healer. I charge you."

Bilbo took it gingerly from her and tucked it into one of his waistcoat pockets with great care, patting the fabric back into place with nervous fingers. "As best I can, while I remain with the Company." It would have to be enough.

Umm. So. I planned all along for this to be completely gen, no pairings whatsoever. That's...not going so well for me. In a story where everything else is behaving in a most lovely and civilised fashion, it would seem that Bilbo and Thorin are determined that Bagginshield should be happening. I may be fighting a losing battle here. I shall keep you updated.

Anyway, that aside, THANK YOU guys so much for reading! Seriously, I got all weepy over your lovely comments! I'm completely the worst, keeping you waiting for so long, and the fact that you're still interested in this story after such a long hiatus is astounding, really. I fully intend to keep pressing on with this one as quickly as possible - call it post-BoFA therapy if you will. My sincere and delighted thanks - I adore you all!