"What do you want?"

Marie crossed her arms as she looked up at Bard, who was glaring at her from behind his half-opened door. "I need your help," she said. Bard raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Well, they need your help."

Bard opened the door farther to see who the they was, and as soon as he did he tried to close it again. "No," he stated. "I've had enough of Dwarves." He shot her a look. "And I try not to associate with kin of the Master."

But Marie stuck her foot out, preventing him from closing the door all the way. "Kili needs a healer and nobody will help him," she told him. She glared at him, her gaze just as ferocious as his. "I've heard rumors of your kindness, Bard. Are they false?"

He was silent for a few seconds, then he glanced at Kili, who was by now leaning completely on Fili.

"Please," Bofur pleaded. "He's very sick."

Bard's gaze turned from Kili to the rest of them as he considered; then, after what seemed like a short eternity, he sighed. "Fine," he said, even though he sounded like he was regretting it already. "Come in, all of you."

Instantly, Fili was pulling Kili through the door, followed by Oin and Bofur. Marie headed after them, but she paused before she passed Bard. "Thank you," she told him. Without giving him a chance to reply, she hurried inside.

The Bowman cast his sharp eyes around the nearby houses, making sure that nobody had seen the Dwarves enter. When he was sure that they were in the clear, he stuck his head back in the house and slammed the door behind him.

000

Marie looked around Bard's small house. The front door led straight into the main room, and the first thing that she saw when she walked in was a wooden dinner table. Off to the right was the kitchen, and farther in behind the dinner table was a small bed. On either side of the bed was a door, presumably leading to more bedrooms.

She watched anxiously as the Dwarves helped Kili onto the bed in the back of the room. The young Dwarf let out a cry of pain when they lifted his leg, which was where, according to the other Dwarves, Kili had been shot by a poisoned Orc arrow. "Is there anything I can do to help?" she asked.

Bofur gave her a kind smile. "Go and relax, lassie," he instructed. "You've already done us a great favor." Without giving her a chance to respond, he turned back to Kili.

The Dwarves started propping up the pillows so that Kili was sitting comfortably, and Oin rolled up the Dwarf's pant leg to examine the wound. From where she was standing, Marie couldn't see it, but from the expressions on the others' faces, Kili wasn't doing good.

Sighing, she turned from the Dwarves to the kitchen, where Bard's eldest daughter- Sigrid, if she remembered correctly- was cutting up some vegetables, presumably for lunch. "Do you need help?" Marie asked.

Sigrid looked up in surprise. "Oh, no, it's fine," she replied. "I really don't have much left to do."

Marie glanced at the large pile of uncut vegetables still left. "That's going to take you at least ten minutes," she told Sigrid. "Please. It's the least I can do."

The girl still seemed hesitant, but she nodded and passed Marie a knife. "If you really want to..." she trailed off.

Finally, something to do.

Marie started chopping up the vegetables next to Sigrid, enjoying the brain-numbing rhythm of it. It kept her mind off of other things, like her concern for Kili and the anger in her uncle's voice when she had left to help the Dwarves. "So what are we making?" she asked.

Sigrid finished dicing the last of the potatoes and slid the little pieces into a bowl. "Stew," she answered. "For lunch."

Marie smiled. "Sounds delicious," she said. Sigrid smiled back.

"Sigrid, are you putting our guest hard to work already?"

The two girls turned to see Bard there, an amused smile on his face as he looked at Sigrid. "Sorry, Da," she replied, grinning.

Bard chuckled and ruffled her hair, his eyes warm. Then he turned to Marie, and even though he was still smiling it was more polite than affectionate. "I'll take over here," he told her. "You can go rest."

Marie hesitated. "I-" she started.

He shook his head. "I insist," he said. "You're a guest here. It would be bad manners to make you help with lunch."

The two of them looked at each other for a second, his brown eyes against her green. Then she nodded and placed her knife down on the cutting board. She turned away, and sat down with a huff at the dinner table.

She was used to spending her days helping the servants at the mansion, either cooking or cleaning or tending to her uncle or something, and that was how she liked it. It was strange now for her hands to be idle; not only was it a rare occasion for her to have nothing to do, but without a task to complete her mind started wandering to other things.

For the first time since she had come to Laketown she had stood up to her uncle to his face. She supposed that in a way that she should be proud of herself for finally finding her voice, but she couldn't help but feel a churning feeling in her stomach when she thought of how angry he had been when she had left with the Dwarves. There was no telling what he would do when she returned to the mansion; from the three years that she had spent with him she had learned to fear his temper. Would he go so far as to send guards out to find her?

No, he wouldn't. He knew that she would come back eventually; after all, the rickety mansion was her home. There was no place else she could go.

Her only option was to return, no matter how angry he was. But she would wait until later in the day, when night fell. Until then, she would stay with the Dwarves at Bard's house.

The loud, clear sound of chopping suddenly drew her out of her thoughts, and she turned to see Bard in the kitchen, expertly chopping up the carrots. Marie frowned thoughtfully, musing over the strange sight of a man helping to cook. Something like that would never happen in the Master's mansion; she was certain that her uncle and Alfrid didn't know the difference between a pot and a pan. But she could tell that the Bowman knew his way around the kitchen.

Almost as if he could feel her gaze, Bard turned around to look at her. For one awkward moment, they maintained eye contact, but then Marie looked away, her face burning.

This was going to be a long afternoon.

000

"Ah! Ugh! Argh!"

Everyone hovered anxiously around Kili, who was moaning and straining in pain. The hours since they had first arrived at Bard's house hadn't been kind to him; the sun had fallen beneath the horizon already, yet the Dwarf hadn't left the bed. A faint sheen of sweat was covering his face, illuminated by the candlelight.

"Can you not do something?!" Fili demanded, trying to see over Oin's shoulder.

The healer elbowed him away, trying to get some personal space. "I need herbs, something to bring down his fever!" he said.

Bard walked by, pacing as he searched through his bag of medicines. "I have nightshade, feverfew-" he listed.

"They're no use to me!" Oin snapped. "Do you have any kingsfoil?"

Marie frowned. "Why do you want kingsfoil?" she asked. "It's a weed."

Oin gave Bard a look. "Do you have any?" he demanded.

Bard blinked. "No," he said. "We feed it to the pigs."

Bofur nodded. "Pigs? Weed?" he repeated. "Right." He ran towards the door, but turned around and pointed at Kili. "Don't move." Without another word, he turned and ran out of the house, the ears of his hat flapping as he did.

Kili let out a moan in response.

Suddenly, before anybody could say anything else, the ground shook, jarring the house and causing dust to fall from the ceiling. Everyone froze, sharing a wide-eyed glance, and a dark silence fell over the room.

"Da?" Sigrid asked, her voice small.

Bain gulped. "It's coming from the Mountain," he reported.

"They woke the dragon," Marie breathed.

Everyone was silent for a moment, but then Fili walked up to Bard and grasped his arm. "You should leave us," he told him. "Take your children and get out of here." His gaze turned to Marie. "You too."

Bard raised an eyebrow. "And go where?" he challenged. "There is nowhere to go." He turned to look at Marie as well. "You can leave if you wish."

Marie hesitated. "I..." she trailed off. She knew the land to the west well; after all, that was where she had been raised as a child. If she made it off of the Lake, then she knew how to get to safety, where she had lived long ago.

But... in the three years that she had lived on the Lake, she had come to know and love these people. She had spent the last two years as the Lady, watching them in the night. There was no way that she could walk away now, not when Bard's three children were looking at her with wide eyes.

"I'm staying," she decided.

Tilda's eyes begun to water, and she clung to her older sister. "Are we going to die, Da?" she asked.

Bard knelt in front of her, his hands on her shoulders. "No, darling," he soothed.

But the little girl was inconsolable, and tears started running down her cheeks. "The dragon, it's going to kill us," she sniffled.

The Bowman was silent for a moment, looking into Tilda's eyes. Then his face filled with resolve, and he got to his feet. He reached up to the ceiling and yanked down one of the drying racks hanging from the ceiling.

It took a moment for Marie to realize that it wasn't actually a drying rack; no, it was a Black Arrow, the last of the three that had belonged to Girion Lord of Dale... and Bard's ancestor.

"Not if I kill it first," Bard declared.

000

It had taken at least ten minutes of begging on Bain's part to convince his father to take him along to kill the dragon, but Marie had a feeling that it would take longer than that for her.

"What's your plan?" Marie demanded. "Just waltz out there past the guards and hope that you get to the wind-lance without any problems?"

Bard crossed his arms, with Bain peering anxiously over his shoulder. "I have no other choice," he said. "The only other alternative is to let the dragon destroy Laketown." He moved to push past her and head to the door.

But Marie remained where she was, blocking him. "You're going to get caught, and the guards are going to arrest you," she stated. "Let me help."

He raised an eyebrow. "How?" he challenged.

She looked him in the eyes, refusing to back down. "I know these streets at night," she told him. "I can make sure that nobody sees you. Besides, if you run into the guards it might be helpful to have the niece of their boss around."

Bard was silent for a few seconds as he considered her proposal. Then he nodded. "Alright," he agreed.

"Da-" Bain protested.

But Bard just shook his head, silencing the boy. "Lead the way," he told Marie.

Marie blinked, startled that it had been so easy. But then she nodded back. "Alright," she confirmed. She turned to look at Fili and Oin, who were still gathered around Kili; they nodded to her, and then she turned back to Bard and Bain. "Let's go."

The three of them headed out of the house, with the Black Arrow in Bard's grasp. Marie paused outside the door, closing her eyes and breathing in the fresh night air. For a moment she was almost convinced that it was just a normal night as the Lady, and that she was sneaking out to leave some food for the people as usual. But no, nothing was normal about this night.

"We have to get going," Bard told her.

Marie turned her attention to the Mountain. It might have been just her imagination, but it seemed larger than usual tonight, as if it knew the importance of the Dwarves' quest and how heavily it weighed in the minds of the people of the Lake.

She shook her head to clear it and started down the steps, followed by Bard and Bain. She paused at the bottom and stuck her head out around the corner, checking to see if any guards were passing by. "Clear," she reported. They hurried down the street with Marie in the lead, with Bard and then Bain behind her. She moved through the streets with a silent grace, confident in her movements; after all, she and the nights of Laketown were close friends.

According to ancient lore, the only thing that could kill a dragon was a Black Arrow shot from a Dwarvish wind-lance; since they had a Black Arrow, they just needed to get to the wind-lance, which was mounted on a tower in the middle of town. Marie had passed it many times during her nighttime missions, but she had never really paid much mind to it. Now she had to get Bard there without alerting the guards.

Even though she had spoken with confidence back in the house, there had been a small bit of doubt in the back of her mind that she would be able to do it; but now that she was in her element, she knew for a fact that she could.

"A Black Arrow?" Bain demanded, glaring at his father. "Why did you never tell me?!"

There was the sudden sound of footsteps, and Marie gestured the others off to the side. They ducked behind a nearby wall, squeezing together to stay hidden from sight. A handful of guards neared, but they walked past without noticing them.

"Because you did not need to know," Bard hissed as soon as they were in the clear.

It seemed like Bain was going to retort, but Marie turned to face both of them. "The wind-lance is right here," she told them, gesturing to the tower. "What's the plan?"

Bard stuck his head out from behind the wall, looking at the wind-lance. "Bain, Marie; I need you two to distract the guards," he instructed. "Once I'm at the top of the tower, I'll set the arrow to the bow."

Marie frowned. "But-" she started.

"There he is! Bard! After them!"

Marie's eyes widened, and she felt herself descending into blind panic. "It's Braga!" she exclaimed. "We have to hide!"

Bard gave her a look that clearly said that he thought she was crazy. "They'll find us!" he told her. "We run!"

Without giving her a chance to reply, he grabbed her wrist and dragged her along, followed by Bain. Braga and his unit of soldiers took off after them. "Quickly! Down there! Go!" Bard yelled. He glared at Marie as they ran. "I thought you said you'd make sure that nobody would see us!"

Marie glared back. "I know the normal guard routes, but this isn't one of them!" she retorted. "They're looking for you!"

"Stop him!" Braga shouted from behind them.

Suddenly Marie saw a shop in front of them, but Bard showed no sign of stopping. "Bard!" she warned.

"Just keep running!" he ordered.

They tore through the shop, knocking over various items in their way, and the shopkeepers started yelling angrily. "Sorry!" Marie apologized. "I'm really sorry-"

"Where's the Lady when you need her?!" Bain cried.

Right here, Bain, Marie thought grimly.

By that point they had put enough distance between them and the guards that Marie couldn't hear their shouts. Bard pulled her and Bain to a stop; then, when he had made sure that the guards had yet to catch up, he gave the Black Arrow to his son. The boy stared at it in confusion, looking rather dazed, and Bard shook him. "Bain!" he exclaimed, drawing his attention back to him. "Bain. Keep it safe. Don't let anyone find it." He looked again down the road to make sure that the guards were still behind. "I'll deal with them."

Bain blinked. "I won't leave you!" he protested.

Suddenly there was the sound of armored footfalls on the docks, and Bard pushed Bain away. "Go!" he ordered. The boy took off without any further encouragement, and he turned to Marie. "You too!"

Marie nodded and started after Bain; but then suddenly she was caught in a rough grip. She let out a cry and tried to force her way out, but the grip was too strong. "Stay right where you are," her captor said roughly. Marie instantly recognized the voice as the one belonging to the Captain of the Guard.

Bard's eyes narrowed. "Braga, let her go," he demanded, his voice cold.

But Braga just smirked at him. "The last time I checked, you aren't in any place to make demands, Bard," he replied. "You're under arrest."

The Bowman raised an eyebrow. "On what charges?" he challenged.

Braga's smirk deepened. "Any charge the Master chooses," he answered.

As if on cue, there was the sound of footsteps from behind them, and Marie and Bard turned to see that more guards had approached. They were surrounded.

For the first time that night, Marie felt herself begin to truly despair.

But then she glanced at Bard, his face determined even though they were surrounded, outnumbered, and unarmed, and suddenly her resolve strengthened. She wasn't going to go down without a fight.

Angrily, she lifted her foot and stomped hard on Braga's foot. He let out a shout of pain, and his grip on her loosened but didn't give. Then Bard punched him in the face, causing him to stumble backwards and let go of Marie. Instantly, the two of them were running away as fast as they could, matching eachother stride for stride. "After them!" Braga yelled.

Meanwhile, unknown to any of them, Bain hid the Black Arrow underneath the ropes and fishing gear at the foot of the boat by the statue of the Master that the Lady had just recently vandalized.

Marie stumbled to a stop when the street suddenly led into a channel of water, but Bard kept running, leaping across the channel using boats as stepping stones. "Keep going!" he shouted to her.

She hesitated, but she could hear the guards nearing. That was encouragement enough for her to follow Bard across the channel.

They both made it safely to the other side, but there was no time for celebration, even when one of their pursuers slipped and fell into the water. Instead they kept running, trying to put enough distance between them and the guards.

Ahead of them, Marie saw a door open, and she skidded to a stop; but Bard kept running and tripped over a foot in the doorway that hadn't been there before, sending him flying into a pile of wood.

"Bard!" Marie exclaimed.

But then the Master and Alfrid stepped out of the doorway, smug smiles on their faces. "Uncle?!" she asked, confused. "What are you doing here?"

Bard suddenly let out a moan and tried to sit up; but before he could the Master lifted his wooden cane and hit Bard in the head with it, knocking him out.

Instantly, Marie turned to run, but by this point Braga and other guards had caught up to her, blocking her escape. She turned back to her uncle, who was still grinning. "Why, hello there, Marie," he said. "You're under arrest."