There were no more parties, nor drinking, nor dancing. Everything, the meals, the hours, the interactions, were numb. The crew spoke with the expected amount of politeness, but no more. Dori and Nori made eye contact with no one as they went about those days that followed their brother's death. Bofur tried his best to cheer them up, though only received glares in return.

Belle pulled the ring from her pocket and held it close to her face, stroking it with her thumb absentmindedly as she processed her thoughts. Her things were packed into a meager knapsack that leaned against the wall. They would reach land any day now, and she was more than ready to leave.

She liked to think of herself as strong, she really did, but as the days passed she only found herself growing weaker. The image of her dead friend passing through her mind every other minute left her with very little energy, as well as sanity.

She prayed for the sweet comfort that dry dirt and steady land would bring. If only she could reach it sooner, then perhaps these harsh memories would leave her be.

Her ears twitched as she heard a crash. It sounded as if something had shattered above deck. It was rather soft though, and as she got up to investigate, she decided that it would be best to not wake the crew, seeing as it could very well be nothing at all.

As she tiptoed up the stairs, the crashing grew louder, with less pauses in between. As she reached the second level she realized it was coming from the captain's quarters, and with a degree of caution she made her way there.

Opening the door timidly, she had only a moment to drink in the disaster that his office had become before an object flew her way. Belle shut the door quickly, and upon hearing the shatter of glass she opened it too see several shards of an bottle were gathered at her feet, as well as a small puddle of what she was sure was ale.

"Thorin?"

He stood on the other side of the room, pulling out each drawer of his desk and throwing it across the room. His face was pink and his hair was a scattered mess as he reached for the next drawer, and Belle approached cautiously, wishing to stop his outburst yet at the same time wary of being injured by it.

"Thorin, what are you doing?"

He seemed to ignore her, and instead picked up the glass bottle of ink that sat at the edge of his desk. As he raised it into the air, her hand shot out and grabbed his wrist.

"Thorin!"

He looked at her then, his eyes red and weighed down by purple bags as he blinked a few times, trying to catch his breath. He let the bottle drop onto the messy stack of papers, his gaze still not leaving hers.

"What's gotten into you?"

Thorin was silent, and Belle opens her mouth to ask another question, only to be silenced as he nearly fell on top of her. It was a hug, she hoped, though she was not quite sure, because he was leaning against her so heavily that they were soon kneeling on the floor of his cabin.

He did not cry, or shake, or do much of anything, he only rested his head on her shoulder as he let out heavy, ragged breaths. She patted his back awkwardly, though after a few more moments she managed to rest a comforting hand on his head.

"How long has it been since you slept?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." His voice was hoarse and quiet. He smelled like liquor and sweat, not a good combination at all.

"Is it Ori, or is it the stone?" she asked quietly.

"I don't know." He said, "And that's what scares me.

They were quiet again after that, and Belle tried her best to be consoling. She was never quite keen with emotions, though she remembered that her mother would rub her back when she was upset, so she did the same to Thorin.

"Have you been drinking?"

After a pause, he nodded into her shoulder.

"Right then," she said, "I think it's time you get some rest."

He nodded again, and she helped him to his feet, wondering just how much alcohol was in his system as she gripped his elbow and led him forward.

"You must have drowned yourself." She said, trying to lighten the mood.

Thorin didn't say anything, and so she sighed and pulled him towards his bed, which he soon stumbled down upon. She considered helping him take off his shoes, but before she could even reach for them he was dozing off. She instead pulled the quilts up over his shoulders and blew out the lantern on his bed table. Being sure to dispose of the broken glass by the door, Belle made her way out of the captain's room and back below deck, her thoughts in a haze.


Kili had never dreaded seeing land as much as he did that day.

As the elves led him above deck and securely bound his hands behind his back, he could only think about one thing: escape.

The dock was narrow, and he could easily shove his way off, though he didn't know what would be done after that. He had never been particularly nimble, so stealing a blade from an elf was out of the question.

As if hearing his thoughts, Tauriel pulled to ropes around his wrists tighter, and he let out a huff.

And though he tried to keep a straight face, he couldn't help the tears that stung his eyes as he was led onto land, and further away from his home.


Legolas and Tauriel kept watch that night. They had decided to stay at a little clearing some miles from the sea village, deciding that it was much easier to look after a prisoner when he was in an open area, surrounded by guards.

She watched as Legolas finished scrawling out the letter to his father, and the place it in his pocket.

"The nearest post is about half a day from here," he had said, "I will send it then."

"I'm glad that you didn't drown, my lord." Tauriel said, and Legolas raised an eyebrow.

"As am I."

"It must have been embarrassing to be saved by a dwarf."

He looked at her. "Are you done yet?"

She laughed quietly, and he shook his head, a small grin gracing his lips.

There was a long pause, and Tauriel finished it by asking, "Why do you think Gandalf wished to help us?"

Legolas rested his elbow on his knee. "I heard him speak with my father," His voice was quiet. "Something is going to happen, something that will affect nearly everyone in Middle-earth, and he wants us on his side."

"Enough to betray the dwarves?" Tauriel wondered aloud, and Legolas looked at her.

"The dwarves of Erebor are a fallen nation. Their absence would do little to help or hinder whatever effort there is."

"What do you think is coming?"

"I don't know," Legolas said, "Though I fear that it will be disastrous."

There was a small pause in which Tauriel's gaze shifted up to the sky.

"It would probably cause a stall in our peoples departure, I'm sure."

The prince nodded. Tauriel glanced at him.

"Will you be going into the west?"

"Yes," he said, "Though, not for many years. I will leave with my father, who plans to be the last of us. And you?"

Tauriel sighed. "I will leave when my duty is done."

Legolas allowed her a small smile. "Then I pray that it takes a long while."

/

HEYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

There may or may not be typos, but that's because I literally just typed this up. I've been camping nearly every other week, and am actually leaving to do so in a couple of minutes. Let me know your thoughts on this chapter!

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