Author's Note: Thank you plenty for the alerts and favorites. They've been very appreciated 😊 Thank you to Ink Scribble, A5mia, Eskimo-Otter, Domi Bear, eeemkaaayy, Estelle, Rhiniel, xXtryingXx, Dreamer3, and u hv to find out ur self for reviewing! Warning, this chapter is a much slower-paced one, but I'm trying to hit all the character moments and give Thorin the time to be emotional. I hope he doesn't come off out of character in this update. Also, please, please, be careful in real life! I'm wishing you guys are all safe and quarantined from the coronavirus. Consider this read a distraction to how crappy life has gotten.

Trigger Warning: Dead bodies are described in gruesome detail.

Disclaimer: I do not own "Black Water" by Reuben and the Dark. This is an amazing song!

Chapter Thirty-Five: Black Water

Rue woke with a start to the feel of a tug on her elbow. Her butt cheeks were numb from sitting so long that it added to her grumpiness, so when she gently swatted at whoever was tugging, she couldn't be completely blamed, right?

"Not right now," Rue said, wiping the crust out of her eyes. Now that she was more awake than before she could see Fili was the one attempting to wake her up.

"Aunt Rue, you do not want to miss this," Fili said, pointing forward.

Aunt Rue? That had a strange ring to it. Anyway, Rue followed where Fili had been pointing, past the front of the boat where Thorin stood, shoulders caved in as he inhaled a deep breath. There it was in all its glory. The Lonely Mountain. Erebor. The reason why they had traveled hundreds of miles across Middle-earth, and had almost died enough times to make Rue consider telling Thorin her funeral arrangements preferences.

The snowcapped mountain range was impressive against the pink-stained sky, becoming dusted in a golden-hue the longer the minutes ticked by. Dawn giving rise to an array of yellow sun rays beaming down on the glassy surface of the lake, extending to the mountain peaks and beyond the horizon. Personally, Rue had never actually been to the real mountains. She had lived hours away from the Sierra Nevada range in California her entire life, but never had the time to go or the money. She'd seen pictures on Google enough times to know what mountain ranges in her world looked like, but this—The Lonely Mountain—had to have triumphed it all. Ravens chirped in the distance, flying toward the side of the mountain. Cat's cradle shaped clouds hugged the mountainside, reaching up over the tip of the mountain with a gentle curve. Rue put a hand over her chest.

There was a soft intake of breath from Thorin, like he might've been in disbelief over seeing Erebor again. His long, locks of dark hair swayed in the spray of wind, arms tucked close to his sides. The other Dwarves and Bilbo shared Thorin's same feelings, multiple gasps filling the two boats, along with excited conversation.

"After all this time…Erebor," Balin said.

A round of cheers quickly filled the cold air, Rue hollering and pumping her fist like she'd seen on Jersey Shore. Bombur and Bofur laughed together, bumping Bifur on the back, pointing to The Lonely Mountain in enthusiastic chatter. Ori and Dori muttered soft words of congratulations to Thorin, Fili, and Kili. Nori leaned back in his seat, wolf whistling at Erebor.

"I never should have taught you that," Rue said, slapping her forehead, thinking back to the one-week they had spent in her world and all the habits Nori had quickly picked up from TV.

"You taught me well, Rue. Or shall I say, Aunt Rue. Queen Under the Mountain," he teased, winking. Rue's face turned fifty shades redder.

Suddenly, there was a fluster of movement from Balin's boat as Gimli sat up, still very much sleep-rumpled.

"What of the noise?" Gimli asked, wiping tired eyes in confusion.

"We forgot to wake you," Kili said, carefully readjusting the Black Arrow that was sitting in his lap. Somehow in the middle of the night, Fili had given Kili the Black Arrow to hold. Rue really wasn't sure how to feel about that.

"You do not ever wake a Dwarf from a comfortable slumber—oh."

Gimli stopped mid-sentence, jaw dropping at the sight of the enormous, ginormous, one and only Erebor. Kili laughed obnoxiously loud at Gimli's reaction, going to pat him on the back when the Black Arrow suddenly teetered out of his lap for a moment—

"Kili!" Dwalin cried.

Dwalin's worried tone must've told Thorin enough because he turned, shaking his head at Kili as the Black Arrow cluttered toward the side of the boat. Last second, Kili caught it, giving Thorin a very apologetic look as he sunk his head low in shame. Rue was tempted to use her newly acquired aunt status to waggle a finger at him in disappointment, but he seemed to be disappointed in himself enough. Why in the world would Fili give Kili the Black Arrow anyway?

"Sorry, Uncle," he muttered.

Thorin didn't say a word, rubbing the back of his hand over his mouth.

"I thought The Lonely Mountain would be larger," Bilbo suddenly said, making hilarious gestures with his hands, swishing his mouth thoughtfully.

Rue, Gimli, Nori, Fili, Ori, and Dwalin broke out in laughter, making funny impressions of Bilbo that made even Mr. Hobbitkins chuckle.

"Aye, Master Baggins, you are remarkable," Nori said, running a hand over his hair as he leaned back all cool and casual.

Bilbo became flustered, cheeks turning magenta as he said, "Are you speaking of me?"

"Who else is 'Master Baggins'?" Nori asked playfully, adding a wink that made Bilbo visibly redden if that were possible.

Was Nori…flirting with Bilbo? The image of the Hobbit and Dwarf holding hands popped in her head, and she realized she might ship it actually. First, she would need more evidence because Nori could've just been being himself but…hmm it sure was an interesting way to spend the next thirty minutes observing them.

The next hour passed with eager conversation revolving around how many ways they could murder Smaug with the Black Arrow. Rue kept her eye on Kili, contemplating if asking him for the Black Arrow would be rude or not. But if he lost it because of his Kili-isms, Thorin would murder him. Or maybe not. Thorin hadn't been himself ever since they'd left Lake-town. She more than understood why he'd become sulkier than usual, beginning to fracture under the immense pressure on his shoulders. Still, it was like being kicked in the head when she saw Thorin sighing sadly to himself, or eyes glassy as he stared at the rock outcropping.

They had docked the boat at the bottom of the mountain range, the daunting gray rocky path curving up and up into the clouds. This was the part Rue hated. Walking. She had been a runner back in her world, but running versus walking in Middle-earth had to have been a no-contest in the physically draining competition. Rue literally dragged ass, behind Thorin and Dwalin as they spoke in hushes together, pointing down the steep mountainside at something. It took her some time to catch on to what they were motioning to, Rue hauling blistered feet up the rock—

Suddenly, the entire company had stopped over an outcrop of rock to peer down at a ruined town. Rue sucked in a heavy breath, realizing her stupidity. No shit, girl, get your common sense together. This was the city of Dale, the town Smaug had ruined with dragon fire. Eerie mist curled around the edges of crumbled rubble, a creepy whistle of wind resonating as old buildings leaned too far in certain directions. How had they not toppled yet? Luck maybe?

"There's one more day before Durin's Day is upon us," Thorin said in a low voice, unblinking at the wreckage of Dale below, the sides of his mouth twitching.

"Shall we set camp inside the city?" Dwalin asked carefully, placing hands behind his back, ducking his head.

"If we move quickly, there will be no need," Thorin countered right away, jumping a little as he looked to the rest of the company.

"But Uncle, what of the assassin from Lake-town? It is safer to take precautions and camp in the city for the night. We can rise early, and make it to the Erebor in time before the last light of Durin's Day," Fili said, hands on his sides as he stood taller.

"What of him?" Thorin growled, turning his back on Fili. "I do not believe he will be in any condition to travel after what I did to him—"

"What of Naji?"

"That troll dung of a man already knows where we are going. If he wishes to pursue us, then so be it."

Rue muffled her mouth, not wanting to be caught laughing at "troll dung" when Thorin was in such a crappy mood. She needed to pull her head out her ass, and prevent Fili and Thorin from butting heads over the important decisions. It'd been happening before Lake-town, but had gotten progressively worse during their hellish stay there. Fili was not necessarily wrong, and if anyone had a right to voice their opinion, it should've been him. She just really didn't want Thorin to take it the wrong way, imagining after Smaug had been destroyed and Thorin had officially become King Under the Mountain, the Games of Throne power play between them increasing. What would Dis say? She pictured the She-Dwarf hitting Thorin and Fili in the back of their heads, and lecturing Kili about the merits of taking care of his bedroom.

"I have an idea," she blurted.

Thorin, Fili, Dwalin, Bilbo, Gimli, and the rest of the Dwarves looked to her intently, sunburnt faces waiting for her to continue.

"I—I kinda have stage fright talking about something important. Here it goes anyway. Uhh…what if we vote on it? We can vote in favor of making camp in Dale and then vote against it after?" Rue said, chewing her bottom lip nervously.

"I agree with the lass," Dwalin said, giving her a comforting pat on the shoulder.

"As do I," Dori said, wiping swamps of sweat from his forehead.

Thorin lowered his head, slowly nodding. "Aye. Raise your hand if you agree to making camp in Dale."

Fili rose his hand first, followed by Gimli, Gloin, Dori, Ori, Nori, Bofur, Oin, and Bombur. After a second or so passed, Rue refused to look at Thorin as she raised her hand, also thinking it'd be better to remain safe hiding behind buildings than exposed.

"Raise your hand if you want to make camp elsewhere," Thorin said.

Obviously, Thorin raised his hand, but wasn't alone. Bilbo, Dwalin, Bifur, and Kili held their hands up also.

"Then it is settled. We shall make camp in Dale," Fili said coolly, reminding Rue of the Mean Girls quote about Gretchen Wieners hair being full of secrets. Fili's golden mane probably housed enough secrets to make a currency and everything.

Thorin groaned in irritation, giving a slight nod in response to his nephew.

"Not every matter will be decided this way," Thorin said, staring out at Dale again, thousands of thoughts written across the unreadable expression.

"I am well aware," Fili said, readjusting the bag on his shoulder.

"I for one cannot stay by the buildings," Bilbo suddenly said. "The filth—it is—I just cannot do it."

Rue thought about all the interesting places they had camped: the woods, dirt, grass, probably on top of Warg poop. Would this really be the dirtiest out of all of them? She would've asked Bilbo more questions, but suddenly Thorin was motioning them toward a rocky path that spiraled downwards, warning them to be careful in that guttural tone he took on when he was apprehensive about something. That revelation made Rue's stomach lurch as she began the tedious climb down, bracing herself on sturdy rocks, taking Thorin's offered hand as he helped her. She offered a hand to Ori and Oin on more than one occasion to make sure they didn't have the misfortune of tumbling, and landing face flat on jagged rocks.

Even after some time had passed, that uncomfortable lurch in Rue's stomach had increased the closer they came to Dale. Because the farther they went down, the more she could see the damage. It was the little things at first that disturbed her. Soot sullied the caved in roofs of houses, ash stained the abandoned streets of Dale, blotting the leaning buildings and moth-bitten banners from old markets.

But then, then they actually arrived into Dale, and those little things turned into big things. Straw dolls missing their heads loitered different paths. A lime green turtle kite, crumpled and discarded in the panic she imagined, was now soot infested. Several times she spotted mice running up and down the forsaken streets, turning around corners, scattering across walls the farther the company tiptoed. In another time, Rue would've screamed because the mice came out of nowhere, but she couldn't mentally pull herself out of the sympathy she felt. She thought about her hamster, Mr. Scabbers, back in her lousy apartment, wondering if she'd ever see him again.

A hush of silence had fallen on the company from the time they entered Dale, and it didn't seem like the gravity of that vow would be broken anytime soon. In a way, it felt like they were having a moment of silence for all the victims without announcing it. Rue knew one thing for certain, Thorin had been right. He didn't want to make camp in Dale because he knew what they would find. If only she hadn't been so emotionally constipated in the first place to have voted for strategy.

They had reached a literal break in the street, where the road caved inwards from a toppled stone building.

Thorin moved left, pointing a finger down another street. "Let us try this path."

They followed Thorin, turning a corner around a smashed building trashed by ashy fruit that had long ago gone rotten.

Then Rue wished they hadn't turned that corner.

The tip of Thorin's boot hit something. He jolted backwards like he'd seen Azog jump out of the rubble.

Rue followed Thorin's boot to find a skull, then—

She gasped. Several of the Dwarves whined in shock, covering their mouths. Bilbo clenched onto his pockets for comfort, scooting closer to Nori who tapped him on the arm.

Skeletons lay haphazardly across the street, the white of the bone causing Rue to consider fleeing in the opposite direction. A moldy, decomposing scent filled her nostrils as she forced a hand over her nose. She pictured humans and Dwarves running away from the fire, some making it out alive, others being killed by the firestorm or by being crushed by buildings. And now they were skeletons—bones.

Thorin had become chalk white, chest rising and falling fast. Kili approached him first, touching his elbow, opening his mouth but closing it after.

"We—we keep moving," Thorin said, voice cracking during every word.

Rue didn't think twice about what she was doing, taking longer strides to walk next to Thorin as they tiptoed over hundreds of more bones scattering the streets of Dale. Maybe she didn't have much available in her arsenal, but Rue could at least comfort him. Reaching out, she gently touched him on the forearm, and Thorin returned the gesture, squeezing her hand in reassurance.

They had made camp in the shadows of the obliterated buildings, making a point to sleep on the edge of Dale. From here, they could see Dale's exit, and the towering presence of Erebor in the distance. Rue thought about Smaug sitting on gold in the mountain, all smug and greedy, probably counting the jewels and coins every hour of the day. The skeletons flashed in her mind, and that made a horrible sensation go through her stomach.

They sat around the fire in somber silence, the only noise coming from the wind and Ori scribbling in his journal.

The silence was only broken by Kili as he elbowed Ori in the ribs.

"May I have a piece of paper?" he asked, giving Gimli, who had been strangely quiet as he sat nearest to Gloin, a furtive glance.

Without saying anything, Ori tore a piece of paper out of his journal, and handed it to Kili. Rue watched him bend the paper in half, creating an airplane. She wondered what Disney Channel show he had seen this on? A Wizards of Waverly Place rerun?

Kili, being a mature Dwarf, tossed the paper airplane at Gimli's head. The paper bounced off his head like a beach ball. Poor Gims leaned back, not acknowledging the paper airplane, still in the same funk as he sighed.

"Can you not see my son is troubled?" Gloin snapped, leering at Kili in challenge.

Kili turned fifty shades redder, gaping like a beached fish before collecting himself and saying, "It was not my intention to upset you or Gimli—"

"You already have."

"My nephew has already explained himself. Is that not enough?" Thorin hissed.

Rue did not like where this was going, whipping her head left and right in a frenzy. Gloin and Thorin glared daggers at each other, engaging in some telepathic duel. Rue realized that all the problems they had on the Quest was finally coming to a head. She did not want to be the bearer of bad news, but she hoped they would save the drama until Smaug was dead. Because if they went inside that mountain on bad terms, their chances of survival decreased. Eerily, she was reminded of the part in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows when Ron had begun to wear the locket and the golden trio's unity had been temporarily severed after.

"It has been a terribly dreary night for all of us, lads," Bofur said, clearing his throat. "Bombur will be cooking us a fine meal. We will get a good night's rest after."

"I'm not hungry," Thorin said, standing up, marching past the outer edges of Dale. He walked down the broken street until it became dirt, turning into a patchy silhouette in the moonlight the farther he went.

Rue rocked back and forth in indecision, her stomach growling as Bombur prepared the food over the fire. She looked to Thorin, who was sitting now in the darkness. The other Dwarves seemed worried, like Dwalin, Balin, Bofur, Kili, hell even Nori, Fili, and Bilbo muttered to themselves in debate about whether or not they should check on Thorin. Oin, Bombur, Oin, Dori, and Ori appeared oblivious to the situation, or were professionals at hiding their honest feelings, going on with the night like normal.

"I have disappointed him," Kili mumbled, clutching onto the Black Arrow like a child would hold their dearest doll.

"He is already in a foul mood because of Dale," Fili explained, reaching over to affectionately ruffle a hand through Kili's brown locks.

"Ooomph! Do not ruin my hair!" Kili cried, chuckling as he dodged Fili's hands.

Rue grinned to herself, glad to see a happier Kili on display. It gave her the assurance to leave her nephews—woah did that sound weird—unattended to go check on Thorin. She stood up, dusting the back of her trousers off, peeping on him in the distance.

"Hey Bombur, please save me a bowl of the good stuff?" Rue asked, glancing from the fire to the pot tied over it. The fire. A surge of curiosity bloomed through her fingertips. Something close to habitual swayed in her gut, making her desperate to do something crazy like put her foot in the fire. She made a mental note to stay up the latest, or to make sure whoever was on guard was distracted so she could test her theory. Fire didn't simply jump off a person, right? Not that Rue would know. She had never been burned by fire in her life until last night. The thought made her quiver, knees knocking together.

Bombur nodded, casting a glimpse at Thorin's parked carcass in the distance. "Yes. Please let Thorin know I shall also save a bowl for him."

"I'll let—let him know. No problem on my part. Thanks again Mr. Bombtastic," Rue said, mentally slapping herself on the forehead. Why was she an awkward train wreck?

She felt multiple pairs of eyes hone in on her as she stubbornly set out for Thorin. Her sort of husband. Fake husband. What a weird turn of events had these last days been. First, Rue was going to marry Naji. Now she was pretend-married to Thorin. Next, she'd be absorbing dragon fire like a mutant, and hopefully casting it back on Smaug. Not that fire would necessarily hurt him…

Rue didn't allow the curious Dwarves to deter her, marching through the cracked streets. When she caught the decaying odor of a pack of mouse corpses, she covered her mouth, trying not to look as flies buzzed by the sickly gray tiny creatures. Poor fellas. With a tug on her heartstrings, she thought about Mr. Scabbers in his cage in her dingy apartment.

The closer she got to Thorin, the clearer he became. She saw the gray streaks in his hair jut out beneath the starlit sky, the way he leaned back on his massive hands, deep blue eyes set on The Lonely Mountain in an unbeatable determination. Suddenly, she felt very…inferior. Thorin's accomplishments hit her in a flash, Rue comparing cashier at Wal-Mart and music major to King Under the Mountain and the leader of the Blue Mountains. He had done so much, and she'd done squat. Rue huffed, wanting to throttle the self-doubt, pausing before Thorin could see her. She shuffled on the spot, scrambling back in defeat—

"You do not need to leave," Thorin said, words gentle as he turned to search her with gloomy eyes.

"I was going to, but I didn't want to leave but I just started thinking too much about you and me. And all of it felt like too much," Rue explained, making a wide gesture with her arms.

Thorin shrugged off his gray robe, wearing only an undershirt now as he spread his robe out, patting it so Rue could sit down. With shaky legs, she sat on the robe, pressing her leg against his without considering Thorin's comfort.

"Whoops. Just so you know, you can have your robe back if you want. Not that I don't appreciate it," Rue said, giving Thorin some space as she scooted.

He nodded, concentrating on the patches of dirt and rock beneath them, fidgeting his legs. Rue should've known better, and came with a speech rehearsed. Well, not really a speech per se. But maybe like a non-offensive method of asking Thorin if he was doing all right? They had crept through Dale, heads hung low as they were careful to tread lightly, avoiding the skeletons. Rue needed to say a lot and more. Start with the easy thing first.

She swallowed cold air, glimpsing at Thorin. "I want to say—I mean I need to say thank you for fake marrying me. I know it's against Dwarf customs but you still went ahead and agreed. If it weren't for you, I'd be fried from the fire. And married to Naji. Gross. I've never heard of Middle-earth insurance policies, but that's the only possible reason I can come up with for him wanting to marry me so he can go ahead and collect coin after killing me."

Thorin seemed agitated all of a sudden, chest rising and falling as he grounded a palm into the dirt.

"You speak of it as though it does not matter," he said evenly.

"I don't want it to come off like that." Rue shrugged. She prepared to hear Thorin bite her head off. They had long since passed that stage in their friendship, but he'd been acting miserable. She couldn't blame him either.

"I understand."

Rue gave him a double take, mouth falling open. She was not ready for that response.

"You do?" she muttered, bringing her knees forward, wrapping arms around them.

"It is how you handle your troubles. By putting distance between you and your misfortunes," he spoke softly. "I wish you would come to understand that you and your circumstances do matter. They matter deeply to me."

Rue searched for the perfect response, but of course her brain malfunctioned. The worst part was that Thorin wouldn't even look at her anymore. His eyes had become glassy, slipping into a discreet existence all together, expression quickly falling into intensity, retreating to careful again and so on. It was painful to watch. Somewhere behind his shaky facade, she could hear what Thorin had wanted to say. You matter deeply to me. Or maybe Rue was getting her hopes up?

"So do yours," she said, offering Thorin a weak smile. "As your pretend wife, I want you to know that—"

Pretend wife seemed to trigger something in Thorin as he looked crestfallen. Now he didn't look so cautious or intense. Nope. Thorin looked heartbroken, turning to peek at Dale behind them, the city in ruins casted in a sickly yellowish glow.

"You must want to pretend with someone else—anyone else for that matter. Surely, the entire company and Mr. Baggins are more suitable options—"

"What are you saying? Wait. Sorry I cut you off."

Thorin gulped, rather nervous. "I never offered an apology for interrupting you in the past yet you give me one. I spoke poorly to you when we first met, tried to lay claim to you when you were no one's to claim. I have been dreadful to you, and you deserve—" Thorin's voice cracked painfully— "You deserve better. I—I failed to slay a dragon that has killed hundreds of Dwarves and humans alike. And now I've brought—Dwarves back to Erebor, even when I know how this will end…"

Rue closed the distance between them, reaching for Thorin's arm. "We've changed the Quest together, and we'll keep at it. And Smaug is not your fault. You didn't make him come here. Me and you…we'll keep doing everything together. We learned to get along. We're friends. Best friends. I wouldn't want anyone else to be my pretend husband."

"Did I ever prevent it?" Thorin asked, stiffening under her touch.

"It wasn't only your responsibility."

"I could have done something. Anything."

There was a wobble in his voice, like Thorin had marbles stuck at the back of his throat.

"You couldn't have," Rue said, imagining a young Thorin attempting to fight Smaug and being eaten like a chicken patty.

"But—"

"Thorin. No more buts, okay? You can't change the past. All you can do is learn from it. It sucks. But all those people who died will have died for nothing if we don't kill Smaug."

Thorin gazed up at the sky now, unblinking as he sucked in a sharp breath like he was about to say something he'd prefer to have dragged out of him.

"I should have been looking after you last night when that man—"

Thorin couldn't finish, getting choked up on his words, swallowing. Rue thought the emotions would pass because Thorin was always prideful, but she didn't know how to be prepared for what happened next. It was a shocker, something Rue thought she'd never witness. Thorin cried. Tears spilled down his colorless cheeks. He gulped a lungful of frozen air, making a soft whimper he desperately tried to disguise as a cough. Rue would not let Thorin feel ashamed about this. If anyone deserved a scheduled crying session, it was him. He had lost so much, and if that wasn't enough had dealt with the responsibility and judgement from the whole of Middle-earth afterwards. She couldn't fathom what that kind of pressure would feel like.

Instinctually, she swung an arm around Thorin but then he lurched, burying his hands in his face, trying to hide his sobs again.

Thorin sniveled, furiously wiping at his eyes now. "I should not be—you mustn't watch—"

His words ripped a hole in Rue's chest. This gaping hole full of suffering and incontrollable circumstances. More than anything, Rue wished she had a Time-Turner to go back to the day Smaug attacked Erebor so she could prevent him from feeling any of this. Because he'd come to loathe himself…and nobody should feel that way, least of all her best friend—the Dwarf she loved. That word gripped her tight in that gaping hole as she clenched her own years of awful memories, unjustly comparing her life to Thorin's. All the bad times, the seldom good times with Nat, everything had led up to now. Rue could be an anchor for Thorin, as cheesy as that sounded. The gaping hole vibrated with a warm hum from the best of times she had with him: this Quest, the Blue Mountains, going back to her world, Mirkwood, Lake-town. It really shouldn't have been a shock, more of self-acceptance, but Rue…she'd do anything for Thorin. The Dwarf who'd seen his grandfather die, who'd been subjected to a missing father, who sat at the bottom of the metaphorical pyramid while the rest of remaining Dwarves from Erebor climbed on top of him, still alive because of Thorn's fortitude. There was something beautifully tragic about it, and…Thorin should not hate himself.

Rue stubbornly tossed her arms around Thorin's back, pressing her shoulder against his in silent offering. He ducked his head onto her shoulder, silently bawling, gripping Rue by the back for dear life, pawing hands up and down her hair as if to check if she really were alive.

Rue held onto Thorin for a while, waiting until he became sleep drowsy from the crying. Once he lied down, muttering to Rue between caresses on her arms about his desire to protect her, he had fallen into a slumber. Knowing Thorin, he wouldn't ever truly be sound asleep. He would wake up from the littlest sounds. So she uttered to him she was going to get some food, which was true. Thorin made a guttural sound, giving a slight nod as he shut his eyes again.

Rue headed back to camp, watching the run-down Dale buildings in the distance with a shudder. Dale had to have been a paranormal hotspot, ghosts probably lurking in every corner. When she arrived to the collection of bedrolls, she checked the heads to see who was asleep: Dwalin, Balin, Gloin, Ori, Nori, Dori, Oin, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, and Fili traded snores. Kili and Gimli also slept, their heads pointed toward each other, which would've been adorable if Rue didn't have to worry about the only person on guard. Bilbo. Mr. Hobbitkins gave a wave to her in greeting, motioning to a pot by his feet. She bent down, lifting the lid to find two bowls of stew squeezed in. Awe, Bombur had remembered. Rue pulled the bowls out carefully, fingering one spoon as she attempted casual.

"How is Thorin?" Bilbo asked, swishing his mouth.

"Better I think. He had a lot on his mind…you know with Smaug and everything," Rue said, shifting her weight to one foot uncomfortably. Slowly, she turned toward the fire, Bilbo at her back now. Must be sneaky. Like a Slytherin. Gosh, she would be screwed. She was such a Hufflepuff.

"Can I ask you something?" Bilbo said.

The question made her almost drop one of the bowls. Rue readjusted her grip, forcing a smile on her face as she looked at Bilbo.

"Go ahead," she said. Her imagination tossed out a few overdramatic scenarios of what Bilbo's question might be. Had he noticed how the fire hadn't burned her last night? Bilbo was observant after all. Would he be suspicious about her knowledge of the Black Arrow?

"I am rather comfortable sitting. Would you put some wood in the fire? I can hold your bowls for you," Bilbo said.

The clouds parted. Slam dunk. No way would testing her fire proof abilities be this easy. Nothing was ever easy for Rue. She handed him the bowls too eagerly, grabbing a piece of wood off the ground. Stupidly, she glanced at Bilbo one last time, him giving her a soft smile in return. Stop being suspicious, she scolded herself. Rue bent down, dropping the piece of wood in the pulsating fire, tempted to withdraw her hand for safety. The flames withered momentarily, then swelled over the new piece of wood. Rue kept her hand in place, lowering her hand until the fire—it literally refused to burn her, flames rising past her forearm. She gulped. Fire repellant. Her. Had she been born like this? The logic clicked into place. Was that why…she'd been sent to Middle-earth in the first place?

The feel of a hand brushing her pants pocket interrupted everything. Rue jumped, startled as she turned to find Bilbo flailing backwards, her and Thorin's bowls set on the ground.

"Bilbo?" she asked.

"My—my apologies," Bilbo stammered, eyes huge in the firelight.

The weight of what was inside her pocket felt like the equivalent of carrying a couch. Rue dug a hand in her pocket, thumbing the smooth surface of the One Ring to check Bilbo hadn't kleptoed it. Bastard. It was hers. No one else's. All hers and—

"You told me you wanted me to carry it," Rue said, making a threatening fist. Who was he to steal it from her?

Bilbo tried to form words, only for a few unintelligible croaks to come out.

"You could've asked me for it," she said, grinding her teeth, feeling agitated enough to kick the ground, maybe break her hand in anger on Bilbo's face.

"I want it back," Bilbo declared.

"No," she growled in a deep voice.

"Yes."

Rue had no idea what had come over her, but she bent down, scooping up her and Thorin's bowls, unblinking as she stared down Bilbo.

"You will have to fight me for it. It's mine."

Bilbo's forehead creased as he shook his head. "That is not fair—"

"It's my precious," she hissed.

Without another word, Rue spun around, storming back out of the camp, thinking awful things about Bilbo.

Author's Note: That ending was fun to write! Let me know what you think. Please drop a review! I love reading your opinions and thoughts. Review responses will be below.

Guest (Estelle): Thank you for the very kind review 😊I love reading French and Google translating it!

Dreamer3: Hi there! Thank you so much for reviewing! I hope you enjoyed this chapter 😊