This is just a wee thing that wouldn't leave me alone...

His heart pounding in his chest Bilbo could feel the sweat prickling his skin as he looked around for somewhere to hide.

He could hear the creature breathing heavily behind him, feel its hot breath on his neck, and terror drove him on to seek a safe place to hide.

Bilbo was being stalked, and he was mortally afraid. Everything he did, every move he made seemed unnaturally loud to his sensitive ears, and he feared that if he could hear it then the beast would surely have no difficulty in following the sound.

With dry mouth Bilbo tried to swallow in an attempt to lessen the harshness of his breath, but what little saliva he could muster choked him, spasms gripping his throat and the resultant cough ineffectually held back by his hand over his mouth. He froze.

A soft snuffle behind him was the only warning he had that the creature was there, that it had moved close enough to capture Bilbo, and the hobbit clenched his teeth to prevent a whine of distress from issuing forth. If only his friends were here, they would know what to do, they would surely save him.

His friends.

Where were they? Had the creature – whatever it was – captured them too? Were they dead - food for the rabid beast?

If he could have Bilbo would have cried with frustration. His limbs were tired and heavy, and as he tried to move he found he was being sucked into the blood soaked mud of the battlefield as it clung and wrapped itself around him, pulling him down... down... down until at last he found himself in the clutches of the beast.

With a rush of panic driven adrenalin Bilbo lashed out as the creature wrapped itself around him, growling warningly as it caught his limbs and bound them tightly, one hefty paw catching at his face as it snarled down at him, the full force of its hot breath flowing across his face.

"Bilbo."

It was an urgent whisper, but one that caught the hobbit's attention.

"Be still little one, you will hurt yourself."

From his place beside him in their bed Thorin reached up to smooth dampened curl's from Bilbo's sweat soaked brow.

"You have a fever, you must rest."

"Thorin?" Bilbo's voice cracked painfully.

"I'm here," the King responded softly. "Come, try to drink a little of this." Pulling the hobbit closer so that he could sit them up a little he held a goblet of cool liquid to the other's lips.

Bilbo grimaced but swallowed obediently as Thorin crooned a song softly, his deep voice mesmerising.

"The beast...?"

"Was no more than a dream."

"But..."

"Shhh. Nothing more than fever tricking your senses, you are safe now, I'm here with you."

Finishing the last of the liquid Bilbo turned his face into the muscled chest beside him, nuzzling into the soft curling hair. Thorin dropped a kiss on the top of his head.

"Sleep now."

The hobbit murmured in agreement and drifted back to sleep with a soft sigh.

Lying back down with the small, hot body clasped in his arms Thorin stared at the stone ceiling – he would get no more sleep tonight.