"And that was the end of Smaug and Esgaroth, but not of Bard."

J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit

Chapter 10: Loose Ends

I came to coughing water and smoke. My throat and lungs were burning. It was several long moments before I could see clearly. Bard's face was hovering above me.

"Dragon?" I wheezed.

Bard looked up and over his shoulder, and with a grunt, I lifted myself onto my elbows. All around us, Laketown glowed orange. Before me, off the dock, the lake boiled, hissing and sizzling as it settled. The waves rolled, but they were calming. There was no sign of the dragon.

"You…you did it. You did it!" Sitting up fully and suddenly, I seized Bard's face with both hands and kissed him on the mouth. He gasped against my lips.

"Sorry," I breathed, breaking away.

Bard touched his fingers to his lips. "It's alright. It's not the worst thing to happen to me today."

I laughed, giddy with victory. "We should go. We should find your boy, your…children, I think Smaug said?"

Bard nodded. "There are also two girls. I hope…"

I grasped his hand tightly. "I'm sure they're alright."

He did not answer, but I knew by his face my word was not enough, and would not be enough for any father.

I scrambled awkwardly to my feet. My clothing was soaked, and in the absence of the dragon, the air was cooling rapidly. Seeing me shiver, Bard moved to remove his coat, an instinctive move, for of course that was dripping as well.

I lifted a hand to stop him. "I don't think that will do any good."

He laughed softly and settled the wet fur back around his shoulders. I grinned up at him.

"Let's just go. I have a certain Elvish prince to check up on, and the townsfolk will be wondering what happened. All hail King Bard!"

"'King' Bard?"

"Give it a minute."

Laketown was more or less gone. Or at least, the top third of it was. But most of the people had escaped, and the advantage of everyone having boats was that everyone had somewhere to go during a mass fire.

In the end the boats had moored on the western shore. It was some time before Bard and I found a remaining boat to take us there. By then it was morning, and the crowd was busy berating the Master and praising Bard. At the center of the gathering stood Bain and two girls, one older and one younger than he. Alone of all the multitude, these three were silent, their eyes searching the shores.

"Bard the Dragon-shooter of the line of Girion!" someone was saying loudly. "Alas that he is lost!"

"Bard is not lost!" his voice barked beside me. The crowd stilled, save for the three children. They rushed their father, who swept them up in his arms, conscious of little else.

With Bard occupied, I felt someone needed to explain the situation. "He dived from Esgaroth, when the enemy was slain. He is the slayer of the dragon!"

The crowd roared. They stamped and boomed and shouted. The snow was forgotten. The smoking town also. "King Bard! King Bard!" And Bard looked at me, knowing I had been right yet again.

The Master's protestations aside, Bard was king, or at least acting leader, of the remnants of Laketown, though he did everything in the Master's name. There was a great deal to do that day, and with nothing better in mind, I followed Bard, and echoed his plans and helped where I could. There were sick and injured to be tended to, and a camp to be built with limited supplies, and it was still snowing.

Among the refuges I found Kili, Fili, Bofur, and Oin. Fili was pale with fear of a drawn out and personal sort, and Kili was pale with an illness that was no doubt the cause of the former. Tauriel was with them, and from her I learned that Kili had been the victim of a weapon of Morgul.

"And how many of those are there exactly?" I asked, having known of one – or at most nine – myself, and wondering how an orc came to be trusted with something with such undeadly consequences. Tauriel did not have answers to any of my questions.

When Bard proposed sending a message to Thranduil asking for help, Tauriel volunteered to go with them.

"Where is Legolas?" I asked her.

"I do not know," she said softly, worriedly. Then her eyes narrowed. "How did you come to be here? When I left the forest, you were confined to your chamber."

Beside us, Bard's eyes were assessing.

"I promised King Thranduil if he left me go, I would see that Legolas was safe," I explained.

"They say you are a seer," Tauriel said.

"It's a bit more complicated than that," I said. "Find Legolas. And when you go before Thranduil, tell him I have kept my promises. If it means anything, I ask help for the people of Laketown. They will need it."

"And for yourself?" Tauriel asked shrewdly.

I looked away. "My fate is, and always has been, in the hands of others. If they cannot do anything for me, neither can Thranduil."

She left, along with men that Bard chose. In the midst of the confusion, tents had been erected and packed with people, and one was given to the dwarves. I followed Bard to his own tent, cleverly split into two sections. In the back, the girls had managed to set up a bath.

The girls and I bathed first. We had only an overlarge barrel, but that was more than welcome. As we sat soaking, hoping the water alone was enough, for there was no soap, the girls eyed me warily.

"Where did you learn to fight?" the younger asked.

"From the dwarves," I answered.

"The dwarves said you wear men's gear and travel as they do. Is there no man to travel for you?"

I answered, "I've learned when there's anything to be done, to do it myself. So yes, I wear men's gear. It's a lot easier to cross mountains in."

"We have never needed to do anything like that," said the older girl. "Our father has always taken care of us."

I smiled at her in what I hoped was an encouraging manner. "Then you have a good father."

The girls went to sleep after that, exhausted from the night's adventures, and Bard and Bain took our place in the bathing room. I wrapped myself in a great fur robe. The woman who brought it to me also offered to clean my gown, but I stopped her.

"Burn it, or keep it yourself," I said. "It's impractical. I will take men's clothes, if any can be found."

She looked at me strangely, but nodded, and I never saw that dress again. I wandered in my furs to the front chamber, where the girls slept quietly in a corner. The floor was littered with furs and blankets and tapestries, for Bard deserved the best, after his victory. I hoped none of the other refuges were suffering for it. Everyone should be warm that night.

I found a particularly thick fur and lay flat upon it. I closed my eyes, feeling more luxurious than I had since Rivendell. Even Thranduil's hall could not compare to this. Given the option, I would have taken a hall and a hearth and this fur. And whiskey. Oh, how I missed whiskey.

There was a cough above me, and I opened one eye to peer up at Bard, who was wrapped in clean garments of his own.

"Do you require clothes?" he asked hospitably. "I can ask one of the women…"

I shook my head. "I already did. And don't trouble yourself. I'm more comfortable and happy than I've been in weeks."

"Wine?" he asked, raising a pitcher.

I stood slowly, holding the robe around me modestly. "You're right. That would make this better."

I accepted a goblet, and we settled down on the furs together.

"Now," said Bard after a couple of companionable sips, "you promised to tell me who you are."

I stared at my wine for a moment, admiring the color. "My name is Scilla, as the Elves or the townsfolk or even the dwarves may have told you already."

"They said you are a seer…" Bard prompted.

"Yes… no," I said. "I…It is difficult to explain."

"I have followed you through fire and water," said Bard. "The least you can do is trust me in return."

I looked at him over my wine, and it was painful. I took a sip. "I'm from…the future. The future of Middle Earth, or what Middle Earth will become, I suppose. I don't know how I came here. I don't know why. I do know that since I arrived, everything has been…different. I have known this tale, known of you, known you would kill the dragon, all my life, as many people do in my time. You are a hero, a legend. Everything that has happened was supposed to happen…but I have had to step in to make it happen in the way I have known it would."

Bard was silent.

"I am sorry," I said. "I realize that must sound incredibly arrogant, not to mention confusing, but please know that I did not choose to be here, and I don't regret any of my actions since coming. My only goal, other than to preserve the history that I have known, has been to return to my home."

It was many long, tense moments before Bard spoke. "I do not understand all of these things, but I know you have not led me astray, and I have no reason to think ill of you."

All at once it hit me. Perhaps because I was relatively warm, perhaps because I was full of wine, but I was suddenly overwhelmed by the past few days, and I very nearly wept into my goblet.

Bard reached out one hand very carefully and grasped my shoulder. "Thank you."

I looked up at him through my tears. "My former life, you must understand, was not that exciting."

He squeezed my shoulder.

I sniveled. "Give me something to do. I can't think about it. There must be something you need done."

Bard shrugged. "We need a new home."

"What about Dale?" I said.

Bard stood, drawing me with him. "Dale?"

"Well, forgive me. I'm new to the area, but it seems to me more of Dale than Laketown will have survived the dragon fire. Some of it was stone, was it not?"

Bard drew out a map, and we poured over it together. We poured over it long into the night. We looked at all the places in the region where he could rebuild the town, and it was late before the wine and the night's tasks finally put us to sleep. I remember pulling another fur about me, and then I was gone.