By the next day around noon, Snowflake had still not come out of her room. Dwalin decided she probably wouldn't unless prompted to, so he knocked on her door. Hearing no response, he entered anyway, hoping she would not be angry with him.

"Go away," she said. "I don't want to talk to anyone."

"Thorin agreed to allow you to come on the adventure." He explained, ignoring her order. "He also came back this morning and requested your company to the Iron Hills where he will ask Dain for assistance."

"Really?" Her tone was very different.

"Yes. Shall I tell him that you agree?"

"Of course!" She exclaimed. She immediately began packing for the trip she had ahead of herself. Dwalin was unsure what to feel in the face of her eagerness. He had come to love her, just as Thorin had.

The next morning, Snowflake joined the dwarven king in his travels. The others were instructed to head to the Shire where Gandalf was to find a burglar in a week's time.

Thorin was greatful for Snowflake's company, and was entertain by her energy. How she remained so bright and cheery, he was unsure.

When they reached the Iron Hills, she was very quiet throughout the whole meeting.

Thorin was extremely displeased by Dain's refusal to help. He knew that despite his cousin's insistence that it was for the dwarves of Erebor claim, the dwarves of the Iron Hills would be on top of the treasure as soon as the dragon was dead.

Soon after the meeting ended, Thorin and Snowflake rode to the Shire where the other dwarves would be waiting. The two were closer than ever.

Bilbo's House
"He is late," said Gandalf impatiently.

"He will come," Dwalin replied. "He traveled to a meeting of our kin in the Iron Hills. He brings another with him."

"Indeed?" The wizard questioned thoughtfully. Thorin had not mentioned bringing another member into the Company.

As the other dwarves carried on, Dwalin waited anxiously to see Snowflake once again.

Three loud knocks silenced the room.

"He is here," Gandalf said.

Bilbo followed the wizard to the door and Dwalin was close behind them.

"I pass this place three times and nearly didn't find it at all Gandalf. I wouldn't have at all if not for the mark on the door." Thorin stated.

"Well you didn't believe me when I said I saw it earlier," came Snowflake's voice from behind the dwarven king. Dwalin smiled at the sound that was like music to his ears.

However, his heart felt as if it were caught in his throat when he saw Thorin and Snowflake's intertwined fingers as they stepped into the hobbit hole.

"What news from the Iron Hills?" Balin asked once Thorin was was seated with a plate of food. Snowflake had turned down the food she was offered, and instead chose to stand to the left of Thorin's chair. When he finished eating for a time, she set a hand on his, which he took before answering.

"There will be no help from the dwarves of the Iron Hills. Dain will not come."

"What? He is your cousin!" Dwalin exclaimed, looking away from Snowflake in his outrage.

"He believes it is a quest for us alone." The woman added softly. "Though he believed I should stay with him."

"And I put him in his place," Thorin added firmly.

"Good," Dwalin stated.

As the other dwarves cleaned up, Snowflake made her way to Dwalin and hugged him tightly.

"I missed you," she told him.

"And I, you," he replied. "Your relationship with Thorin seems..." He seemed unsure of how to continue the statement. Snowflake shifted uncomfortably as she realized what he was trying to ask.

"Yes, Thorin and I are much closer... I'm sorry Dwalin, I just.. I realized I have stronger feelings for Thorin. And in our travels he admitted his feelings. After that... little things seem to just.. happen." She explained.

Soon after this conversation, everyone was in poor Bilbo's living room. Thorin stood in front of the fireplace with his arms around Snowflake as the other dwarves found seats.

Then, the dwarven king began to sing, joined by his kin.

Far over the Misty Mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away ere break of day,
To seek the pale enchanted gold.1

The dwarves of yore made mighty spells
As hammers fell, like ringing bells
In places deep where dark things sleep
In hallow hall beneath the fells

For ancient king and elvish lord
There many a gleaming golden hoard
They shape the wrought, and light they caught
To hide in gems on hilt of sword.

On silver necklaces they strung
The flowering stars, on crowns they hung
The dragon-fire, in twisted wire
They meshed the light of moon and sun.

Far over the Misty Mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away ere break of day
To find our long forgotten gold

Goblets they carved for themselves
And harps of gold where no man delves
There lay they long, and many a song
Was sung unheard by men or elves

The pines were roaring on the height
The winds were moaning in the night
The fire was red, it flaming spread
The trees like torches blazed with light

The bells were ringing in the dale
And men looked up with faces pale
The dragon's ire, more fierce than fire
laid low there towers and house frail

The mountain smoked beneath the moon
The dwarves, the heard the tramp of doom
they fled their hall to dying fall
Beneath his feet, beneath the moon.

Far over the Misty Mountains grim
To dungeons deep and caverns dim
We must away ere break of day
To win our harps and gold from him!

When the song was over, the dwarves all settled down to sleep, and Bilbo gave Snowflake a guest room.