Katy bit the nail of her thumb absently while she thought. She knew of the upcoming events, knew of every move and mistake the dwarves would make within the next few days, and she wondered how she would go about correcting it all. Bilbo stood next to her, listening to the dwarves talk, and she glanced down at him curiously. She could probably enlist his help, he would play a huge part in the upcoming battle, and gifting him with a bit of knowledge would not change the overall outcome she was sure. She could use his talent for sneaking about to her advantage.
She heard Bard returning up the stairs then and turned to watch as he carried a sopping wet package at his side. He dropped it to the table, sending lake water splattering across the dry would surface, before unwrapping it to reveal the ramshackle weapons to the company. Little more than tools. It seemed everything about Lake Town was ramshackle, she thought derisively, and schooled her expression into something more neutral. The thought of offending Bard quite frankly offended her! He had not needed to give them aid, true he had been twisted into it, but he had done the best he could knowing that they were not a bad lot.
The dwarves poked and prodded the makeshift weapons, examining them in contempt, and glanced about the group. They all wore similar expressions; disappointment. It had been expected really, Bard was a bowman yes, but the second they had entered his dilapidated home they knew he could not have much. But they had at least thought he might have a few hunting weapons, maybe some knives, or a spare bow.
"It's not as if any weapon will do any good," Katy exclaimed after much heckling and insulting on the dwarves part. No amount of swords or axes would stop a dragon.
Thorin looked up at her, eyes narrowed, "Anything is better than nothing." There was a warning in his tone and he glanced over at Bard pointedly.
She snorted and turned back towards the window, "Whatever helps you sleep at night," she muttered. She recognized that there would be no persuading the dwarf, he was set in his ways, and those ways required proper weaponry. At least while Smaug was eating them he could pick out the pieces of gold between his toes with their swords.
"We paid you for weapons. Iron forged swords and axes!" Gloin exclaimed from the table.
"It's a joke," Bofur agreed, throwing down his make shift weapon irritably.
All the other dwarves followed his example, dropping their weapons onto the table haphazardly and creating quite a dangerous looking pile. Katy only shook her head. Next to her Bilbo had grown grim.
"Thorin," Balin said, gaining the attention of said dwarf. He looked down at the mess of weaponry and continued, "Why not take what's been offered and go? I've made do with less; so have you. I say we leave now." He lifted his gaze to his king imploringly. He wished not to bother Bard any longer with their presence as he could tell the man's patience was wearing thin. He was clearly doing the best he could but as per usual the dwarves came off as being ungrateful.
"You're not going anywhere," Bard muttered over the sound of the arguing dwarves. His voice silenced all and they turned their gazes onto him like a pack of starving wolves who had just found a rabbit. "There's spies watching this house and probably every dock and wharf in the town. You must wait till nightfall."
They all grew calm and complacent, finding his demand annoying but reasonable, he had helped them after all and it would be rude to get him and his family into trouble with the authorities. Thorin turned away in frustration and moved to another window to reclaim his pensive stance.
Bard reorganized his collection of weapons and wrapped them back up in the satchel before setting them aside. He tried not to show his irritation but the bag may have hit the floor harder than necessary, causing Tilda to flinch in her seat at the table. She watched her father apprehensively while Sigrid rubbed her shoulders comfortingly. Bain had disappeared.
Bard glanced about the room once and then made his way to the door. He needed to clear his head of the irritating dwarves.
When the door had shut Katy turned and followed, no one paid her any mind as she went except Bilbo, but he said nothing and simply watched her go.
She pulled the door open and slid through before closing it gently behind her. Bard stood at the railing, mumbling to himself in thought, and did not notice her presence until she moved up to the railing next to him. He tensed, surprised by her entrance, before offering her a tight smile.
Poor guy, she thought, he was always looking so grim and worn. She had not seen his brow smooth since she had first set eyes on him, it was always pinched in concern or worry.
"Don't let them get to you, they may not realize it now, but they will appreciate your actions when they look back," she advised. Her breath spiraled up into the air as she spoke but she paid it no mind, the cold did not trouble her now that she was an elf.
Bard looked down at the water below absently and nodded, "It's strange but I had a feeling that something was going to happen. The days had grown far too long and uneventful, like the calm before the storm, and now I realize why." He lifted his gaze to the far mountain. "Will you not tell me of what is to happen?"
Katy fell silent and turned her eyes to look at the mountain as well, her mind racing, she felt it was not her place to tell him. But the thought irritated her because she had already made changes to the story, though slight, and had willingly tried to alter the outcome. How could she now say that she was not able to assist when it was needed? Or was she just avoiding the anger she knew her answer would cause him? Regardless, he needed to leave so the dwarves could slip away.
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, his brow lowered, and looked away. The confused and slightly distraught expression she wore was enough of an answer for him.
"I will find out for myself then," he stated and pushed himself away from the railing. He hurried down the stairs and took off down the boardwalk.
She watched him go calmly, her face now blank of any emotion, and wondered whether she should follow or not. Deciding that she rather liked the idea of escaping the company for a short while she hurried after him.
It was easy enough to follow his figure through the crowds, while he wore the shabby clothing of the town he carried himself much differently than the other inhabitants. His head was held high even as he rushed towards his destination and she could easily spot him in the throng of people. She slithered through the crowd, hardly drawing attention to herself as she went, and followed around a corner into a tapestry shop vacant of any other customers. No one really had the money to spare on decorative things accept for the master and those he paid off.
"Hello Bard, what are you after?" the shop keeper greeted from his seat where he was smoking a pipe and enjoying the peaceful moment.
"A tapestry," he answered thoughtlessly, his eyes scanning the shop hurriedly.
Katy arrived just as he moved over to the piles of cloths. He hunched over them, flicking through them in search of a specific one he knew to be there. He took no notice of Katy as she approached and watched over his shoulder. He paused at one and pulled it from the pile to lay it out across the top and examined it closely before turning to gaze at Katy next to him. All throughout the canal they could hear the people talk of the dwarves and whispers of the prophecy filtered through the open doors of the shop to Bard who's gaze grew dark.
"The lord of silver fountains,
The king of carven stone,
The king beneath the mountain shall come into his own,
And the bells shall ring in gladness at the mountain king's return,
But all shall fail in sadness and the lake will shine and burn."
The words hung heavy in the air between them like so much lead. He pushed the tapestry away and turned towards her slowly, his mind racing. He did not know how to react to the elf in front of him. He was confused and worried for the sake of the towns people but he could not quite figure out what her place was in all of the mess soon to come. Why would a woodland elf help the dwarves reclaim their mountain?
"You knew about all of this and yet . . ." he trailed off, his breath growing ragged in an emotional whirlwind. His eyes jumped from place to place as his mind sped around.
"Bard," she began calmly, "I'm asking for your help."
"To destroy my home?" he exclaimed and then in a lower tone, "If that dragon is awakened this town will be leveled along with all its inhabitants." He glared down at her, looming over her threateningly.
"It must come to pass," she muttered darkly, lifting her chin at his threatening figure.
He moved away with a grunt and marched out of the shop but he quickly shifted gears into a run, leaving Katy to watch his retreating figure with a growl. Nothing she did made a difference and she was growing more and more frustrated by the second. What was the point of it all? She stood with her arms crossed, watching the setting sun set the lake aglow before snorting and turning to exit the shop, her cloak swirling about her figure.
She felt no need to run after him, she knew what would happen next, and that she had plenty of time to organize her thoughts before they left in the morning. She had too many emotions battling for attention inside of her at that moment. The hurt and anger she felt at Thranduil, the frustration and irritation caused by the dwarves and Bard, and the over powering urge to just give up and go home. It welled up inside of her like a wave, dragging her limbs down and slowing her thoughts, like a depression, it sapped the energy from her.
She dropped down onto a wooden crate outside of the shop with a grunt. All about her the town seemed to come alive with whispers of rumors; dwarves, gold, and happiness soon to come. Of course their homes would burn but because of it they would return to Dale, the city abandoned nearly two hundred years ago, where they would later find many riches hidden away. Thorin would soon promise the town much and would later refuse to give it to them but little did they know the city of Dale had much more to offer than just shelter. Gold was stashed away in every crevice of that city, hidden away from the dragon.
The people of Lake Town would be alright, she told herself, and she needed to focus on helping the dwarves.
She picked at the sleeve of her tunic absently while she thought, pulling the details from the depths of her memories, and examining them for every loophole she could find. There would be moments, no doubt, where her interference would be necessary. Although she had already tried on several occasions to change the course of the future, albeit in slight ways, she had failed each time. At least that was what she thought. It was time to stop playing nice, she realized, and time to start throwing hard balls. No longer would she dance about the predetermined events from the films, if she wanted to make a difference it would seem her only option was to jump in fighting.
She tightened her gloves and fisted her hands, hearing the leather creak, and pushed herself up into a standing position. In the distance she could hear the shouts of the townsfolk, the irritating voice of the master, and the deep tones of Thorin himself all echoing off the tall spindly buildings and floating over the waters. She rolled her shoulders and cracked her neck to release the building tension there. Now was not the time to doubt, she realized, she had left Rivendell with the intention of seeing to the survival of the line of Durin and by all means she would see it done.
She followed the boardwalks to the town square, her boots thudding against the brittle wood, and passed through an alleyway filled with barrels and heaps of useless junk. She stepped over fishnets and into the square slowly, choosing to remain hidden, wanting not to disrupt the events taking place.
"You can listen to this naysayer, but I promise you this; If we succeed, all will share in the wealth of the mountain. You will have enough gold to rebuild Esgaroth ten times over!" Thorin exclaimed, staring at the crowd of men imploringly. His shoulders were held back and his chin lifted towards the stars but there was still a note of pleading in his voice.
Katy turned her eyes to the figure of Bard, pushing his way through the crowd to stand in front of Thorin, chest heaving and fists clenched in anger. "All of you! Listen to me! You must listen! Have you forgotten what happened to Dale?!" he cried, wishing for the people of his home town to see sense. "Have you forgotten those who died in the firestorm?!"
The crowd grew restless, conflicted by the two figures arguing in front of them all.
"And for what purpose? The blind ambition of a mountain-king so driven by greed, he could not see beyond his own desire!" Bard continued, turning back to face Thorin with a glower.
"Now, now, we must not, any of us, be too quick to lay blame. Let us not forget that it was Girion, Lord of Dale, your ancestor, who failed to kill the beast!" The Master stepped forward wagging his finger at Bard disapprovingly, as if he were a child, and turned his gaze onto the crowd.
Thorin turned to look at Bard in surprise. The bowman looked away, shamefaced and angered by the reminder of his ancestors failure, let alone being revealed to the would be King of Erebor himself.
Katy lifted a finger to her mouth, nibbling the flesh and wondering if she should step forward, she was overcome with urge to comfort both her friends at once but they were clearly on opposing sides. Thorin continued to stare at Bard in a strange combination of disgust and pity while the bowman took a step back towards the crowd.
"It's true, sire. We all know the story: arrow after arrow he shot, each one missing its mark." Alfrid drawled in his accent, swaggering down the steps of the Master's house and grinning like a fool at Bard. The vindictive joy he got from belittling the man who had done nothing but bring him trouble over the years was satisfying in so many ways. All around the people rallied and yelled at Bard, sending him dirty looks and accusations.
Bard stepped forward, stopping directly in front of Thorin and lowered his eyes to the dwarf, "You have no right, no right to enter the mountain," he whispered. He pleaded with his eyes, hoping against hope that Thorin would see reason and not bring death and ruin to his people even as they cursed his name.
"I have the only right," Thorin whispered back.
Katy moved forward while the people cheered and crowded around the Master's front porch, hailing Thorin and welcoming him with joy. Bard had taken another step back from the crowd, watching on silently while his people gleefully greeted their doom, before turning to look at the elven woman at his side. She had placed a hand on his shoulder comfortingly. He felt too at a loss, to betrayed and confused, to feel any more anger towards her. While she had obviously known what was to happen there had been nothing she could have done, he realized, his people would have been swayed by Thorin's words no matter what and if they had managed to sneak away in the dead of night they would still head for the mountain. Perhaps now his people would be more prepared. He sighed through his nose, staring down at her searchingly, and it only then occurred to him that she was scarred. Burned by fire and her identity then became apparent to him. She was the Dragon Charmer. He felt rather like an idiot for not realizing it sooner. He dropped his eyes away from her.
"Everything will work out," she said quietly. "The dragon will come but you and your people will survive."
He smiled at her sadly, appreciative of her kindness, and lifted his eyes to the crowd. "I should have known that no amount of reasoning would make them see the truth of it," he said.
"All will be revealed within time, don't worry about it," she waved her hand vaguely. "But I suggest you get the little ones prepared." She nodded in the direction of his house, far away from the excitement going on in the town square, while the mountain loomed over her shoulder.
Bard nodded once, thoughtfully, before turning towards his home. Katy followed him, secretly wanting to see the children again, and glanced back at Thorin over her shoulder. He was standing there on the steps of the Master's house, watching her follow the man who had opposed him, and glaring at her in betrayal. She lifted a hand to her heart and gestured to him in what she hoped would be seen as a peace offering before turning away. He really needed to get over his issues with trust, it was growing rather tiresome. She shook her head.
"You are not an elf of Mirkwood, I take it," Bard spoke up several minutes after they had left the square.
Katy had been walking next to him, lost in thought, and upon his statement she looked up in confusion at first. "No," she answered thoughtfully, "I traveled with them from Rivendell, but even then, it was not my original home."
"I thought as much, you are far too different. If I had to place you I would be at a loss, forgive me for saying so, but you seem more like a wanderer than anything else." He allowed her to pass ahead of him to climb the stairs into his home, stepping aside politely.
Katy laughed, "Truer words have never been spoken. I've wandered pretty far, further than most, I will admit." She ascended the stairs and waited at the door, not comfortable with opening it of her own accord, and was greeted with a smirk from him.
He held the door open, allowing her to enter, before glancing about wearily and following her.
The house was lit by the fire and a few well-placed candles and the children were huddled about the table over the remains of a sparse dinner, talking quietly of the past events, and worrying over what would come of them. When the door opened they all stood, their faces brightened by the sight of their father, and Katy smiled.
"Da!" Tilda exclaimed, running to him with arms open.
Bard chuckled and lifted her into his arms, looking at Sigrid and Bain with love. They were his life.
"How long do we have?" he asked, turning to look at Katy urgently.
"Two days," she answered, moving further into the room to take in the details she had missed earlier: The knickknacks on the mantle, and things that decorated the kitchen counters, and blankets strewn over the couch.
They all watched her.
"Right," Bard said, putting Tilda down and moving off into another room, presumably to gather what he thought would be necessary.
"Miss?" Sigrid spoke up, "Would you like some tea?"
"My name's Katlyn," she answered with a smile, "And yes, I would love some."
"We've never had an elf in our house before," Tilda piped in, she moved to stand in front of Katy curiously.
"I've never met a dwarf before that lot," she said with a shrug. "There's a first time for everything."
Tilda smiled while her sister rummaged about in the kitchen, preparing a kettle of tea and bringing it over to hang above the fire.
"Do you know what's going on?" Bain asked curiously from his seat at the table, his fists were clenched and brows nit in concern much like his father. Sigrid threw him a look from over her shoulder by the fire.
"I do," she responded with a nod, "Much is about to change, but don't worry, everything will be alright."
Bain looked away with a frustrated scowl and Katy felt sympathy for him.
"Would you all like to hear a story?" she asked. Stories were always a good distraction, even in her own time, whenever she felt at a loss with her situation she would open a book. She recalled many a night where she had given up on worrying over bills or school and had simply chosen to read just to escape the spiraling thoughts. She was sure they would be grateful for the opportunity themselves.
"What kind of story?" Tilda questioned, a bit peppier at the prospect.
"A story of adventure," she shrugged, taking the cup of tea offered to her by Sigrid who claimed a seat by the fire shortly after.
"I think we would all love that," Sigrid answered, arranging her skirts neatly around her legs.
In the other room Bard was filling a few bags with blankets and spare clothing, bandages, and whatever else he could get his hands on. He could hear the others talking in the living area, at first their voices were loud and polite, sharing pleasantries and introductions, but as time passed her only heard Tinusell's hushed tones and she delved into whatever tale she had deemed necessary to calm their fears. He folded a blanket slowly, listening in on the story himself, and his eyes wandered to the open doorway that allowed warm light to spill in.
"Have you ever heard of jousting?" Katy asked in a curious lilting tone, the story had begun, apparently. "No?" she asked in surprise, "Well, it is a grand sport that only knights can participate in. They mount horses wearing specially designed armor and ride at each other holding these huge wooden lances and try to knock each other off. It's really a sight to behold."
Bard stuffed the blanket into a bag and scanned the room for any other supplies that might come in use.
"One day, during a game, a knight fell. His wound was too great and so one of his servants, nothing more than a peasant, chose to ride in his place despite the threat of execution. He was not a knight, after all, and if he was discovered he would be hanged. But he had always dreamt of being a knight, his father had raised him to believe that any man could change his stars, and so he took his master's armor and climbed up onto his horse and rode out in his place . . ." Her voice rose and fell with the story and Bard did not hear anything from his children, and assumed they had been drawn into the tale.
He set the packs on a chair with a sigh, staring down at them and then the room in general, realizing that it would soon be destroyed. He did not have much, as Lake Town as whole was not a prosperous place, but he had many memories of his family within the walls and he regretted its imminent destruction.
He moved further into his home, tracing his way back into his own bedroom and looked up at the painting of his wife hanging next to the window. She been beautiful, with her blond hair and smiling brown eyes, she had passed several years back from sickness. Had she been with him at that moment he was certain she would be levelheaded and bright, choosing to view the situation as a positive. It would be a chance to restart.
He took the painting down, wrapping it in a soft sheet, and brought it back out to be slipped into one of the awaiting packs.
The dragon would come down on them like a demon from hell and no amount of pleading or hope would stop him, Bard realized, and so with a resigned shake of his head and moved back out towards the living room.
His musings must have lasted longer than he thought for his children had all retired to their bedrooms, leaving Katy sitting by the fire alone, her legs crossed and boots absorbing the heat. She looked deep in thought, staring into the flames absently, biting on her thumbnail.
"Why did you choose to help us?" he asked.
"The company will survive the night without me," she answered having taken a breath to pull herself from her thoughts. "I can only take so much time with dwarves before I need a break."
Bard chuckled and moved over to the boiling kettle that had gone ignored by Katy, he grabbed a cloth from the mantle placed there for that very purpose, and lifted it from the metal rack. While he poured himself a cup of tea Katy glanced about the room and her eyes landed on a dusty instrument sitting in the corner under the table.
"Can I play with that?" she asked, pointing at it.
Bard glanced up from his work and then to the small string instrument curiously, "It is Bain's but as you can see he has grown bored with it." With his cup of tea in hand he walked over and lifted it, blowing dust off of it before handing it to her.
Katy took it carefully and examined it. It was a bit like Elrohir's 'Round Ukulele' as she had dubbed it. She plucked at the strings, adjusting them to tune it, and strummed a couple familiar strings thoughtlessly. It had been well over a year since she had last picked up an instrument and she paused to take in the memories that came bubbling to the surface. Long nights spent struggling to write music, pacing in her night clothes, and bemoaning the rising sun came to mind and she smiled. How simple her life had been then.
Bard sat down across from her in another chair and blew on his tea to cool it, he only realized then that he probably should have offered her one as well, but she seemed rather enamored by the thing in her hands and shrugged it off. "Do you play?"
She lifted her gaze to his with a smile and plucked out a simple tune.
"Singing; don't worry about a thing
'Cause every little thing
Is gonna be alright.
Rise up this morning
And smile with the rising sun
Three little birds
Sit by my doorstep
Singing sweet songs
of melodies pure and true
Singing: this is my message to you
Don't worry, about a thing
'cause every little thing
Is gonna be alright"
She beat out the tempo with her foot and sang softly so as not to disturb the kids.
Bard smiled kindly at her, enjoying the simple song, and the image of her enjoying herself on the old and most likely abandoned instrument. He took a sip from his tea and leaned back in the chair, listening to her soft voice, and turned his gaze to the fire. Tomorrow the dwarves would march on Erebor and Smaug would rain his wrath down upon the town but Katy had told him that his people would survive. His children would survive. And that had been all he needed to hear.
The tea calmed his nerves and the song soothed his soul so when Katy had finished he stood to make for bed. He offered to bring her a pillow but she denied and said she would not be sleeping that night. She had smiled at his puzzled look which quickly grew into understanding; she was an elf. She did not need sleep. Before he nodded once and turned away.
Katy was left to her thoughts that night and she spent much of her time sitting at the window, watching the town go about its sleepy business, lost deep in her memories. At one point she must have dozed off because she saw, for the briefest of seconds, the smiling face of Celebrimbor and she recalled some murmured words of encouragement that left her feeling warm and safe. When the sun's rays peeked over the first roof Bard had returned, looking sleepy but dressed, and went about preparing breakfast for his family. She watched him thoughtfully before standing and lifting her pack from the floor.
"Thank you for your hospitality," she said.
"You're leaving?" he asked, looking up from the kitchen.
"I have to go with them," she answered. She stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, realizing that she had never departed from anyone's home on her own in Middle Earth. She was not sure what the custom was for elves, let alone humans, so she strummed her fingers against her thighs thoughtfully.
Bard moved towards her and then paused, remembering that elves did not partake in the same mannerisms as they did, and so would not bid farewell as his people would.
Realizing that they were in the same boat Katy laughed, causing him to smile, and moved forward with a hug. He welcomed the embrace with a laugh of his own.
"I've always hated all the pleasantries," she said and stood back from him. "Good luck."
"And to you," he responded with a nod.
She stepped towards the door, waved to him one last time, and slipped out into the morning light. Shutting the door behind was the hardest thing she had done in a long while. She felt like it was the end of something. Something strange, small and flickering, hopeful. . .She shook her head and hurried down the stairs. She could hear the horns sending off the dwarves in the distance.
She ran through the town, pack bumping against her back and boots thudding against the wood, and could not resist the urge to laugh. She felt like she was late for the bus trying to catch up. It had happened many a time to her when she was still going to school back in the day and so the feeling of urgency awoken something long forgotten in her. The boardwalks were clear of most of its usual inhabitants thankfully, as they were all gathered to bid Thorin and his company goodbye.
When she did finally reach them, the railings crowded with people and the boat slowly sliding through the channel towards open water, she ran to the very edge of the dock and leapt. She was heedless of where she would land, so caught up in the moment was she, and so she came crashing down into the vessel right into the lap of a very angry dwarf. Dwalin glowered at her and she lifted her hands in surrender.
"What in the blazes do you think you are doing?" Gloin cried, hanging onto the edge of the boat as if his life depended on it. It rocked precariously in the water and threatened to spill its occupants into the icy depths heedless of whether they could swim or not.
"I was late for the bus," she shot back.
"I will not have it," Thorin stood in the boat, glowering at her. "You have been nothing short of trouble since the day we met you. I do not know where your loyalties lie. You slither about between kingdoms and races as easily as a snake through the grass. How do I know you will not betray us?"
"Have you forgotten why I am here?" she asked irritably. "I am the Dragon Charmer, of course I'm good at weaseling my way in and out of things, I would never have escaped if I wasn't." She pushed herself out of Dwalin's lap, stumbling over their packs and causing the boat to rock once more. "I was asked by Gandalf to help you and I saw that it was a worthy cause. To reclaim your home. But there is a greater evil working in the shadows. A darker cause that forced Gandalf's hand. You know, Thorin, and I ask you to bear with me and give me a chance."
Thorin did not stop glaring at her but he did lift his chin, breaking eye contact from her for a moment, thoughts racing within his mind. He could not afford to have her causing trouble for him or the company as they go to face the dragon. He did not know what her true intentions were and while at one point during their journey he had seen the logic behind letting her come along his mind had grown dark and paranoid the closer they got to the mountain.
"Thorin, she could still be of use, especially when our burglar goes forth on his own," Balin spoke up, resting a hand on Bilbo's shoulder.
Why were they always bringing him into their arguments? Bilbo wondered before clearing his throat, "Yes, I for one, would feel much more comfortable knowing that I had a Dragon Charmer with me."
Maybe it was because he was still feeling guilt over forcing Kili to stay in Lake Town, the realization that he had crushed his dreams, had only dawned on him after Fili had refused to go on without his brother. He stared at Bilbo, letting out a sigh through his nose, before turning back to his seat. "Do whatever you wish, but-."
"I know, 'my life is of no consequence to you'," she mimicked.
"I'm half tempted to throw you overboard," Dwalin growled.
She had sat down on the bench across from him, dropping her bag to the boat floor, and let out a heavy sigh. "You and half the boat, I'm sure," she glanced out at the lake, chunks of ice floating along the surface, and then allowed her eye to take in the retreating form of Lake Town. After interacting with the humans of Middle Earth she found herself missing her own time. She was tired of struggling with stubborn dwarves, men , and elves. All she wanted was to lay out on the beach and absorb some sun and maybe build a sand castle and eat some ice cream. She propped her chin on her hand and let out a sigh. She wondered what her life would have been like had she never found the ring and had actually finished school. Would she have opened her own restaurant? Would she have actually met someone and settled down? Would her father have survived his heart attack?
It was funny that she was struggling to change the world and yet here she was wishing for everything to go back to the way it was.
"Katy."
She glanced over at Bilbo who was watching her curiously. She smiled and gave him a small shrug. She could voice her thoughts to him but he would not understand, at least, no exactly. She knew that he missed his home as well but what she missed was an entire world. An era. The things that had made her who she was. She did not want to be the elf with the dragon burn scars, fighting to alter time itself, she wanted to be Katelyn Jones. Katelyn Jones, the girl who rode her bike to school and work because she wrecked her car three months before Middle Earth. She wanted to be the girl who was best friends with Cassie and watched movie marathons with her mother as a way of apologizing for whatever they may have done to upset the other.
But that world was dying.
She lifted her hand to look at the ring, admiring its soft and comforting glow, before smacking her cheeks with her hands. Now was not the time to doubt herself. The world was dying and it was her job to fix it. She had known the darkness of her time, known that it existed, but she had found herself yearning for her friends and family over the past year and had only recalled the light. Now she needed to remember or else she would falter and the world would not be saved. What would Elrond think of her after having snuck away from Rivendell only to give up just before the end? What would Gandalf say?
The boat ride to shore was a long and tense one. The dwarves could feel the anger radiating off Thorin and the melancholy from Katy and the combined emotions created a rather awkward atmosphere. Bilbo spent the time giving the two concerned glances and twiddling his thumbs, he had trouble sitting still, and so focused on the looming mountain as a distraction. Unfortunately he realized that that particular mountain also had a fire breathing dragon in it that he would soon be facing on his own. "Oh," he muttered and dropped his gaze to his hands fearfully.
When the boat slid over the muddy shore the company disembarked with no complaint. The hauled their packs onto their backs and adjusted their new clothing and weapons provided to them from Lake Town and marched towards the mountain with no hesitation. They had very little time to reach the hidden door, the sun was already beginning to sink towards the horizon.
Katy and Bilbo stuck together, looking like the odd balls in the group, and slowly fell to the back of the company while they walked. They could have easily overtaken the dwarves but Thorin was radiating such a determined air that it was intimidating. Though Katy would deny ever actually being intimidated she would agree that it was rather unsettling to walk beside someone so focused.
"So what's it like, your home?" Bilbo spoke up after an hour of silence. He could no longer take the quiet tension of the group and the closer the mountain got the more nervous he became.
"Hmm," she hummed absently, glancing up at the sky in thought, before answering, "It's a lot different." In the back of her mind she heard Elladan snort while she gave the same answer to Thranduil her first night in Mirkwood. She told him of her home then, no longer worried over her identity, and painted as unbiased of a picture as she could manage. She told him of the good things; technology, theme parks, ice cream, music, and her favorite movies. And she told him of the bad things; racism, war, disease, corrupt politicians, global warming, and deforestation. "I think if we had enough time we would figure it out eventually," she added thoughtfully, "But the world is dying. We are out of time."
"How sad," Bilbo muttered. He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his new coat. The fate of the world was a dark one despite the effort on man's part. He let out a sigh.
"That's why I came along. I need to ensure that the line of Durin goes on. Stop the dragon from dying. Rebuild the friendship between dwarves and elves. . ." she trailed off in thought. Maybe she could help to restore Mirkwood to its former glory too. The thought of facing Thranduil again was nerve wracking but she would do it if she had to. Surely it would help as well.
Bilbo had looked at her, aghast at what she had said, keep the dragon alive? What good would that do? He voiced this question quietly, not wanting to alert the dwarves of her plan, lest they gut her there and leave her for the ravens.
"They are made of magic," she explained with a shrug, "Darker magic than some, yes, but they are beings born from the fire of the Earth. They must not die out."
"You better make sure you've got your facts strait," Bilbo muttered, refusing to look at her, he focused his eyes ahead and shook his head. He trudged forward determinedly, irritated and worried for her now more than himself, he was a little bit confused as to why he felt the way he did. "Because I will not be pulling you out of trouble, no, nah uh," he wagged his finger in the air and marched on ahead of her.
Katy smiled at his back and picked up her pace a bit to keep up with him. She found herself touched by his obvious concern. She could not wipe the smile from her face until they reached the ruins of Dale.
The city stood long forgotten and abandoned. It had been taken over by plant life and animals, inhabited by all but the free peoples, and had long since begun to crumble. Its towers reached forlornly up to the sky. It did not exude the kind of dark miasma that the forest of Mirkwood did but it came awfully close. They could not see from their position atop the far away hill but its streets and alleys were littered with the long dead corpses of its old inhabitants, burnt to a crisp by Smaug. It was a true ghost town and had been holdings its breath for two centuries, waiting for someone to reclaim it and reawaken its streets and buildings once more. But no one had.
Not yet, anyways, Katy thought. She pulled her gaze away from the city and examined the group around her thoughtfully.
"What is this place?" Bilbo asked in an awed whisper.
"It was once the City of Dale. Now it is a ruin. The Desolation of Smaug," Balin answered grimly.
"The sun will soon reach midday; let's find the hidden door into the mountain before it sets. This way!" Thorin ordered, he stepped back from the steep drop of the hill.
Bilbo glanced between Thorin and the city of Dale, "Wait...is this the overlook? Gandalf said to meet him here. On no account were we-"
"Do you see him?" Thorin interrupted him, gesturing the rolling fields around them. "We have no time to wait upon the wizard. We're on our own."
"Because that worked out so well the last time," Katy muttered irritably. Every time the wizard gave them instructions it seemed like Thorin went out of his way to disobey them. True, they were running low on time, but she also suspected the lust for gold was playing a part in his urgency. Regardless, Gadalf would not arrive in time anyways.
Thorin moved down the hill, shoulders hunched and fists clenched, "Come," he ordered.
The dwarves filled down after him leaving Bilbo and Katy to watch after them. Katy let out a huff and readjusted her bag on her shoulders before giving Bilbo and look and a shrug and tromping down after them. There was nothing to be done. Gandalf would not show for another few days, long after Smaug had laid waste to Lake Town. He was being held captive in Dul Guldur. The realization made her falter but she soon kept walking when Bilbo caught up with her. He assumed she had waited for him but in all reality she had been taken off guard by the thought of Gandalf swinging above open air stuck in a cage. Could she help him? She didn't see how unless she could find some of doorway to step through.