"How long have they been gone?!" Bard asked in alarm.

Without waiting for an answer, he shut the door and left again.

Ara sighed. "Well, if today isn't the strangest day I've ever had, may I be struck dead. Come on, let's clean up. I don't know what your da is doing but I trust he does."

Ara and the children got to work gathering up and washing the dishes and the blankets.

It was well after nightfall that Bard returned. His body seemed heavy and sluggish and his face was hard and grim.

"Bard," Ara breathed, rushing to greet him.

"Da!" The children cried, also running to him.

"My dears," Bard said thoughtfully, pulling all four of them close to him, "It seems our guest, Thorin, is the true King Under the Mountain."

Ara remembered the noble looking dwarf. She never would have guessed that he was the Lord of Silver Fountains as told of in the legends.

"It is time for bed," Bard said.

His children dared not argue but got themselves to bed at once.

Bard sat on a stool and stared pensively into the fire.

"You have not told me everything, have you?" Ara asked, sitting down beside him.

"I'm afraid," Bard said after a pause, "that Thorin and his company are on their way to the Lonely Mountain where they intend to reclaim the treasure within."

"But, the dragon…" Ara began.

"As far as we know, the dragon still lives. If the beast is awakened, he will destroy Esgaroth," Bard said, "Everything will burn."

Ara placed a hand to her mouth. The pair of them sat together in silence for a while.

The fire grew slowly dimmer as time wore on. Ara took of Bard's noble face, handsome and almost fierce in the light of the fire.

"Do not worry about it any more tonight," Ara said, kissing her husband's cheek, "come to bed, my love."

"Give me another moment," Bard said quietly.

"I'll be waiting," she said, placing a hand on his arm for a moment before leaving the room.