Bella groaned as she came to, head pounding as though the entire Company had been stomping on it whilst she was unconscious. It wasn't the only part of her that ached, either. She was lying on something very uncomfortable and hard, something nearby smelled terrible and what felt like the hilt of a sword was digging into her ribs.

"Urgh," she muttered, opening her eyes and realizing that she was grimy and, in places, bloody. Then recent events caught up with her.

"Oh no! Aah!" Bella gasped in pain, having scrambled to her feet too fast. Her ankle throbbed in pain and her head swam. She waited, eyes clenched shut, for the dizziness and the nausea to pass, then looked out over what she could see of the battlefield.

It was terrible. Near her were the bodies of some of the fallen, allies and enemies alike. Blood and filth was everywhere, the rock slick with it. The hobbit swayed in shock and fear as she realized that there was not one living soul near her.

"Hello?" she called out, voice trembling. There was no answer. She hobbled to the steep edge of the ledge (Ravenhill, she remembered it was called) and looked out across the distance, and when she squinted, she thought she saw some Elves moving in the distance, but no one nearby. Surely there had to be a camp somewhere, though?

Bella hesitated slightly, then she started to slowly, painstakingly (careful of her injured ankle) pick her way down the mountainside, away from Ravenhill, looking for someone who was alive, someone who could tell her of the outcome of the Battle. The last thing she remembered was the Eagles arriving, and the Elves she thought she saw implied victory, but there were no guarantees. She wondered, trembling, whether anyone else of the Company was even alive anymore, then she slipped on a slick rock and almost went tumbling down, catching herself at the last moment and letting slip a curse as her ankle screamed at her again. She froze, listening to the small rocks that had been dislodged by her clumsiness and the ruckus they made as they tumbled down. She hoped desperately that no one hostile had heard that, or her cursing.

"Hello?" came a call seconds later. "Anyone there?"

Bella breathed a sigh of relief, as that was no orc voice, nor was it a goblin. She had found an ally!

"Here!" she cried out, rounding a big outcropping of rock on her way down, cringing at the sight of a particularly viscously run through body of an Elf in her way. In looking away from the Elf she caught sight of a Man, clearly the one who had been calling out to her, and she waved, but his gaze slid right past her as if she wasn't there. The hobbit felt a stab of fear at this, wondering if she was in fact a ghost, but then she realized that she was wearing the Ring. She rolled her eyes at herself in relief, pulled it off and waved again. "Over here!"

The Man startled, surprised to see a Little Person appear out of nowhere, in a place where no one had been when last he looked, but he hurried forward to her nonetheless. "Would you be Belladonna Baggins, then?" he asked, looking her over.

Bella blinked in shock. "I am. How did you know?"

"I was tasked with finding you. The king of the dwarves was asking for you. I have been looking for you for hours, and was starting to give up hope of finding you alive. Come, we must make haste!" The urgency was clear in the Man's voice.

"What happened? Is Thorin alright?" Bella asked, eyes wide, as the Man grabbed her arm and started pulling her with him. She winced, her ankle reminding her of its injury again. "Wait, my ankle…"

The Man stopped, scrutinized her a moment, then seemed to come to a decision. "If you are injured, it may be faster if I carried you," he said, bending down to gather her up at her hesitant nod, then continuing, "Thorin Oakenshield was alive, though gravely injured, last I heard, but this was several hours ago. I know not of his condition now, or if he is even still alive. That is why we must make haste."

Bella's mind whirled. Alive, but gravely injured. It did not bode well.

Over the weeks, or was it months, that had passed since Thorin's acceptance of her at the Carrock, the two of them, Bella and Thorin, had gotten closer to each other. She had come to cherish Thorin's kind looks and treasure his words, even as she longed for more. But he was a king, and she a hobbit, and wishing for more than the friendship he gave her freely was foolish. Bella was well aware that it could never be more. She had accepted it.

That did not make it hurt less when the madness started.

The dragon sickness had brought an end to Thorin's kindness. Bella had known, long before she gave the Arkenstone to Bard in hopes of sparing the lives of her Company, of Kíli and Fíli, Balin and Dwalin, Óin and Glóin, Bifur, Bofur and Bombur, Nori, Dori and Ori… her beloved king… that something was terribly wrong with him, but she had denied it, hoping for a miracle, until she couldn't anymore. Thorin banishing her had, by that point, been no more or less than what she had expected, thought it still hurt. She had decided that it was a price she was willing to pay, for his life, in the hopes that his sanity would return someday. A foolish hope, she had thought then, but if he was asking for her now…

If only it hadn't come at the price of his life! the hobbit thought in despair, clinging slightly to her carrier as he stumbled a little. They were starting to near the flat ground, and signs of life showed itself in the groans of the wounded, the little fires, the tents, and the frantic healers' activity in the distance. Tears filled her eyes at the sight, tears which she had been struggling to hold back ever since the Man had informed her of Thorin's condition. It was all too much.

But as long as he is still alive, you can save Thorin, her conscience whispered at her. All you have to do is sing a special song and cry… The hobbit took a moment to ruefully consider that the crying would not be too difficult to accomplish.

"What of the rest of the Company?" Bella asked once they were firmly on flat ground, unable to keep from voicing her worry anymore. "Do you know what happened to them?"

"No," the Man answered her regretfully. "The dwarf who gave me details of how to recognize you – by name of Balin? – appeared tired, but not terribly injured. Gandalf, who suggested I look near Ravenhill, as that was where your voice was last heard, has only minor injuries. That is all I know."

Bella fell silent again at this. Gandalf and Balin were all right. That was at least two accounted for. She had feared worse.

Being unable to do anything else, she went back to contemplating what she could to for Thorin. The thought of using her power tore at her, the stories her mother had told when she was a child all warning against it. One of her ancestors locked in a tower for the duration of her entire childhood by one who would use her power to stay young, another stabbed to death so that she could not save the man she loved, her husband and the father of her children, yet one more sold as a slave and dragged all over the world, treated ill whilst keeping her captors young and healthy until she finally managed to escape…

The hobbit shuddered and forced her mind back to the present. If Thorin was still caught in the throes of madness, and she healed him, such things would likely happen to her. But I cannot just let him die! she cried out silently. Though it would be a moot point if he was already dead.

"Miss Baggins!" Bella heard a rough voice shout. She startled slightly and craned her neck to see Dwalin hurrying towards her, covered in blood but axes newly polished. "There ye are! I was startin' to think you'd been lost!"

Bella choked slightly as her carrier carefully put her down, nodded to her and left discreetly. "Dwalin! I'm so happy to see you!" She flung herself at him in a tearful hug, and he clutched her back for a moment, then pushed her away.

"As am I, lass, but ye need to see Thorin, now. He doesn't have long left," the grizzled Dwarf told her sadly, and Bella's breath caught. He was still alive, then. There was a chance!

"I will, but first, what of the rest of the company?" she asked urgently.

Dwalin started to usher her towards a tent even as he answered. "Most of us will heal, but Fíli and Kíli laid down their lives to defend Thorin. A bit less than an hour ago, they were still alive, but now-" he choked slightly, unable to finish his sentence, and Bella felt her face go white at his news. The urgency was building up in her. The entire company could be still be saved. She was going to have to move fast if she was going to save them all, though, and she had still not decided…!

And then she was in the tent, and Dwalin wasn't with her anymore, and she was vaguely aware of Dwarves leaving the tent – were those Balin and Óin? – and there was Thorin, his torso torn from many wounds, bloody, cut and bruised, eyes closed, breathing raggedly.

Bella ached, to see him so injured. It seemed a bed hadn't been found, so all Thorin had to rest on were a few rough blankets on the ground, which were looking as ravaged as Thorin himself. The tent was by no means big, either, so Bella had only to take a few steps before she was falling to her knees at her king's side, her hands going to his right arm, which looked like the least damaged part of him.

His eyes opened as she touched him, and the blue was clouded, unfocused, so pained.

"Bella?" he murmured, breath rattling horribly in his chest, and Bella choked back tears.

"Yes," she whispered, lifting a hand to stroke his hair with trembling fingers, "it is me."

He sighed, and the corners of his mouth curled upwards. "Good." He moved restlessly, wincing, and she hushed him softly, urging him with her hands to remain still. "No, I must talk while I still have some time," he began, coughing a bit. "You were right. Had my mind not been clouded I would have seen it. My greed and pride would have killed us all, had it not been for you."

"Hush," Bella murmured to him. "You were not yourself."

Thorin shook his head weakly at her. "My madness does not excuse my actions. I go now to a place where gold and silver is of little worth. I would take back my words and deeds at the Gate, and part from you in friendship, if you can find it in yourself to forgive me."

"Of course," Bella answered him. "Of course I will, if you would reclaim this undeserving hobbit as your friend."

"Undeserving," Thorin laughed breathlessly, wincing as he did. "No. There is more in you of good than you know, child of the kindly West. Some courage and some wisdom, blended in measure. If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world. But sad or merry, I must leave it now. Farewell, my dear hobbit!" He smiled at her, and closed his eyes, sighing.

Bella felt her determination rising. If his speech was anything to judge by, the gold madness had clearly passed. She could not let him die, not now when he had finally gotten his mountain back. She would just have to risk the exposure.

"No, Thorin," she murmured, cupping his cheek carefully, "this is not farewell. I will not let it be." And she sang:

"Flower, gleam and glow,

Let your power shine,

Make the clock reverse,

Bring back what once was mine.

Heal what has been hurt,

Change the fate's design.

Save what has been lost,

Bring back what once was mine,

What once was mine."

As the song ended, Thorin's breath ceased, and Bella found no difficulty at all to let her tears fall on him. She sniffled, watching anxiously as her tears were absorbed by his skin. The relief that rushed over her when the glow started was heady.

Despite having had this power her entire life, Bella had always been too afraid to use it, so she had never seen what happened when she did. Thus it was that she watched, wide-eyed, as the golden strands of light filled the tent, and the flower, made of golden power and light, unfurled on Thorin's chest before it faded away and everything went dark again.

She held herself tense, waiting.

A/N: The story is based partly on the book, partly on the movie, and partly on my own imagination. The last thing Thorin says to Bella here is taken almost entirely from the book (with just a few changes to fit the story). I made Bilbo a girl, and also slightly younger, because I see children in the future and writing male pregnancy doesn't work for me. (Read it? Okay. Write it? No.) Also, I wanted her to have more time with Thorin (and more time that she'd be able to have children). This story is also posted on Archive of our own.

Also, personal head canon, Dwalin polishes his axes when he is grieving.

Hope you enjoyed!