Author's Notes:

Because I'm completely obsessive and insane, and this story has kind of possessed me and just won't give me any peace, I made a long playlist on YouTube of fanvideos of the major universes that Moira has been to. These aren't all of them, just the ones that were the most important to her or had the most transformative experiences (even some that I haven't gone over yet much in the story). I started it for me, and this playlist is going a lot on my entertainment computer (I write on my laptop) but I thought I'd share in case anyone cared at all, which you probably won't, but whatever. Obviously, there are MAJOR spoilers for: the Hobbit; Game of Thrones; Vikings; Defiance; Legend of the Seeker; Star Wars Rebels; and Supernatural. So if you haven't seen any of those shows yet and don't want to be spoiled, then don't click. You can watch it in order or on shuffle. Its a long playlist, over 220 videos. Yes, yes, I know, I'm completely and totally nuts. So sue me. Apparently when I write a story it completely consumes me. I'm thinking of trying to figure out how to make my own fan videos for Moira and Fili when the story is done, but I've never done any video editing, like ever, so that will be a new learning experience.

Anyway, if anyone cares, here's the playlist (you'll get to see what Darken Rahl and Cara look like, if you aren't Legend of the Seeker fans!)

youtube playlist?list=PLifJL65fP6Q17KGhtTYZfkIjdf8EPSWWO

~000~

Chapter 21:

Left in Laketown

back on the quest, while still in Laketown …...

The Company had not been impressed with the "weapons" that Bard procured for them. They were all fashioned from old tools, and the closest to actual weapons were a fishing harpoon and a smithy's hammer. But really, what did they expect? The people of Laketown had no resources. Moira was certain she could kill an Orc with the harpoon if she needed to, but to be honest she didn't want it to be her only defense if she could help it. The smithy hammer would be far too heavy for her to carry during a prolonged battle, but of course the Dwarves were not likely to have that problem. As for the rest, well. There wasn't much to be said about the rest of the "weapons". Moira knew Bard had tried his best, but with what the Company had ahead of them, they simply would not do. During the ensuring argument, Bard had let slip that the only iron-forged weapons were in the City Armory, and there was no chance of him getting in there, and the look that Thorin had shared with Balin told it all.

Which was how she ended up here, captured by Laketown's guards with the entire Company, being roughly pushed towards to the center of town to be confronted by the Master. They were in the square outside the Large House, and the guard who had searched her (a little too thoroughly and for a little too long) was gripping her elbow as they waited outside. A huge crowd was gathered to watch them, whispering to themselves. This is probably the most excitement they've had in, oh, ever.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Out strode the Master, and ugh, he was gross. His long, stringy orange hair (orange, mind you, not red), was brushed over his bald head, as if that would somehow hide his baldness. His stringy mustache and pathetic excuse for a beard was as dirty and unkempt as the rest of him. His eyes were large and watery, his teeth yellow, and he reeked of rotting flesh. Even from where Moira was standing she could smell him. She wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"Caught them stealing weapons, sire." the lead Guardsman addressed the Master.

"Enemies of the state, eh?" he crowed as if he had caught and subdued them himself.

"A desperate group of mercenaries if ever there was one, sire." Alfrid was hunched over as he spoke, but his eyes were only on her. He actually leered. Moira's fingers twitched, longing to punch him.

"Hold your tongue!" Dwalin bellowed, stepping forward. "You do not know to whom you speak. This is no common criminal. This is Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thrór!"

Thorin stepped forward, striking his most majestic pose. "We are the Dwarves of Erebor. We have come to reclaim our homeland." When the whispering sweeping through the crowd intensified, Thorin turned to face them, stepping up onto the stairs to increase his height and look the gathered population of Manfolk in the eyes.

"I remember this town in the great days of old. Fleets of boats lay at harbor, filled with silks and fine gems. This was no forsaken town on a lake!" Thorin's deep baritone rose in both power and volume as he spoke, easily holding the attention of the people. "This was the center of all trade in the North! I would see those days return! I would relight the great forges of the Dwarves and send wealth and riches flowing once more from Erebor."

Cheers broke out.

"Death!" Bard's voice rang out across the square, cutting through the merriment. He was pushing his way through the guards. "That is what you will bring upon us! Dragonfire and ruin. If you awaken that beast, it will destroy us all!"

Thorin addressed the gathered onlookers, instead of Bard himself. "You can listen to this naysayer, but I promise you this: If we succeed, all will share in the wealth of the Mountain. You shall have enough gold to rebuild Esgaroth ten times over!" The crowd erupted into cheering. But of course, Alfrid had to put a damper on their good mood.

"Why should we take you at your word? We know nothing about you." Alfrid sneered. Does he have any other expression? Moira couldn't help but think as the slime-ball continued. "Who here can speak for your character?"

"We will!" Bilbo's voice rang out loud and clear, holding up one of his hands as he did so. He looked up at Moira for a moment, questioning, and she nodded back, smiling warmly. The fair-haired Hobbit grabbed her hand and pulled her forward, drawing all eyes in the square to them. "We have traveled far with these Dwarves, through great danger – "

Moira spoke up, lending her support to Bilbo's voice. "They are brave and honorable, and have risked their lives for me – us – when they didn't have to."

"– and if Thorin Oakenshield makes a promise, he will keep it!"

"Listen to me, all of you!" Bard appealed to the crowd. "Have you forgotten what happened to Dale? Have you forgotten those who died in the firestorm? And for what purpose? The blind ambition of a mountain king, so riven with greed, he could not see beyond his own desire?"

The glare that Thorin shot Bard then was frightening, and not for the first time, Moira thought that it was a very good thing that looks could not kill. Almost everybody Thorin had ever met would be dead from the force of his glaring powers if that was the case. But it was clear by now whose side the Master had decided to fall on, as he berated Bard for his ancestor's failure to kill Smaug. It wasn't long before Bard stormed off, casting a particularly reproachful glare her way. What was THAT for? Moira didn't have long to think about it, however, as the Company was being ushered into the Large House for an impromptu celebration.

~000~

The following party was raucous and most of the Dwarves really got into it. Particularly Bofur, who soon ended up singing and dancing on top of one of the tables. Moira had lost count of how many pints of ale he had drank. But Moira had only one thought. She barely touched her fish stew. As soon as she could, she caught Fili's eye from across the room, and gave him her best come-hither look, before turning and heading up the stairs to the private rooms that the Master had provided. She didn't look back to see if he followed, but when she was halfway up the stairs and heard a pair of loud Dwarvish boots taking the steps two at a time, she smirked to herself. Soon she was in her room, and she heard someone enter behind her and close the door.

Moira turned, and Fili was leaning against the door, arms crossed and smirking at her. He still had his golden hair bound back into the tight Viking braid she had given him, which gave her an unobscured view of his strong features. Over the poorly-fitting human clothing from Bard, he was now wearing pieces of metal armor that had been given to the Company by the Master, which clearly came from the Laketown guards. Two pauldrons covered his shoulders, connected in front and back by a leather strap and buckle. Despite the worn nature of the hard-spun clothes beneath the armor, he looked magnificent. He leaned causally against the door, the flat of one foot braced against it. His brilliant blue eyes were scanning her body, looking her up and down.

"So, I guess you're not hungry." she tried to sound causal even as the way he was looking at her was filling her mind with all sorts of naughty images.

He growled deep in his throat. "Not for anything they're serving downstairs."

Damn, he was a silver-tongued devil, wasn't he. His eyes still locked on hers, he very slowly, methodically, reached out and turned the lock on the door. Click. Moira's stomach fluttered madly. "We have an actual bed tonight," Fili stated. He pushed himself from the door now, using the foot that had been braced on it. He stalked towards her slowly, purposefully. His eyes blazed as he continued."And tomorrow we may be facing a dragon."

"Are you giving me the last-night-on-earth speech?" She teased him playfully.

"Perhaps." He was almost upon her now. "Maybe I just thought I was being smooth."

Moira smiled down at him. "You were. It was very sexy."

"Good." Fili stretched upwards then, and Moira met his questing lips eagerly, eyes fluttering shut. One of his large hands landed on her hip, pulling her possessively closer. Her hands landed on his hard chest. She could feel the heat radiating from his body through his clothes as their tongues tangled in their dance. His kiss was hard, desperate, instead of gentle like how he usually started. He kissed her like he was trying to devour her, like he was starving and she was the first bit of food he'd seen in weeks. The hand on her hip slid around her waist and downwards, cupping her backside and giving it a squeeze. Moira moaned into his mouth. He broke away for just a moment, nibbling her bottom lip as he did so, drawing another moan from her. "I've been wanting to do that all day," He breathed. "Ever since we escaped those damned Elves." He nipped at her neck, drawing a gasp, and then set to soothing the mark he had left with kisses. Her hands were clinging to his neck as she swayed slightly from the force of his attentions.

This whole affair was stupid, Moira knew. Everyday she was falling more in love with him. If she couldn't save him, it would absolutely crush her. Even if she did manage to keep him alive, after the battle he would have a responsibility to carry on the Line of Durin. Meaning he'd have to marry some Darrowdam from a noble family. Letting herself fall for a prince was beyond stupid. There was no way they would have a happy ending here. But her heart had always had a mind of its own, and it never learned its fucking lesson, it seemed. So Moira figured she might as well enjoy the ride while she could.

Her hand slid around his neck, and she pulled hard at the thick braid she had given him, and he hissed in response, his eyes darkening. "Bed. Now." he commanded.

Moira giggled, and she couldn't resist teasing him. "Oh, we aren't going to take our time?" She pouted, throwing his words from a few nights ago back at him. "Savor every moment?"

"There will be plenty of time for that later." He kissed her again, hungrily, his tongue ravaging her mouth, making Moira's entire body quiver with anticipation. As he kissed her, he pushed her forward, backing her towards the bed, until the backs of her knees hit the mattress and she was falling backwards into its soft embrace. Then Fili was climbing on top of her, sliding his large hot hands under the ill-fitting dress as he did so, gliding up her thighs. His blue eyes were dark and stormy as he growled out: "I'm going to take you every which way, and then take you again."

Oh Gods yes. All Moira could do was moan in response as he claimed her lips again while his fingers sought out her center. She gasped his name into his mouth, and all thought fled from her.

~000~

the next morning ….

"You do know we're one short?" Bilbo huffed. "Where's Bofur?"

Thorin shrugged in response, not looking at the Hobbit that trailed after him as he pushed through the crowds. "He's not here, we leave him behind."

Balin stroked his white beard. "We'll have to, if we are to find the door before nightfall. We can risk no more delays."

Moira stood on the dock, handing weapons and supplies to Dwalin and Ori, who were already in the first boat. When Kili made a move to join them, Thorin gently but firmly pulled him back "Not you. We must travel at speed. You will slow us down."

Moira, sadly, had to agree with Thorin on this one, although she kept her mouth shut. Not only was he moving as if his entire body ached, but Kili had taken on a deathly-white pallor. If he went with them, Kili would not just be endangering the quest, but his own life. Despite these troubling facts, he put on his best innocent face, smiling his disarming, charming smile and attempting to use his puppy-dog eyes to get his uncle to change his mind.

"What are you talking about? I'm coming with you."

Thorin shook his head, blue eyes sad, but his voice was firm as he continued to load weapons into the boat. "No."

Kili, however, was not ready to concede defeat. The tone of his voice took on a desperate edge. "I'm going to be there when that door's opened! When we first look upon the halls of our fathers!"

Thorin's voice was gentle, and he placed a hand on the back of his beloved nephew's neck. "Stay here. Rest. Join us when you are healed." Kili just stared at him reproachfully, not believing this was happening.

Oin heaved himself out of the boat, vaulting back onto the dock with surprising nimbleness for his age. "I will stay with the lad. My duty lies with the wounded."

Moira actually felt sorry for Thorin as much as for Kili, a feeling she had not had when she had first seen the movie, so so long ago. But she was a different person now. She had lived so many lives, and had changed much as a result. She had lived through wars and all manner of calamities, had even commanded men in battle, and she knew that as much as it hurt, Thorin's decision was the tactically correct one.

Fili, already in the boat, had been watching the whole exchange. As soon as Thorin turned to him, he protested. "Uncle, we grew up on tales of the Mountain. Tales you told us! You cannot take that away from him!"

"Fili – "

"I will carry him if I must!"

Thorin would not be swayed. "One day you will be King and you will understand. I cannot risk the fate of this quest for one Dwarf, not even my own kin."

Thorin's sincere words did nothing to convince Fili. The love for his brother was too strong. His face hardened, and in one smooth move he had jumped out of the boat and was on the pier, pushing past Thorin. The older Dwarf grabbed the blonde prince's arm. "Fili, don't be a fool. You belong with the Company."

"I belong with my brother." He retorted, shaking off Thorin's hold. And that was that. Fili marched over to where Oin was attempting to examine a petulant Kili, who kept pushing the healer away. He actually looked like he was near tears. Moira locked eyes with Thorin, and the fierce blue orbs held an unspoken question. Are you going with him or not? Moira wasn't sure now what she should do. She had pledged to see this quest through to it's end, and even if she knew she would be no help when Bilbo faced Smaug, Thorin didn't. Would he see her as faithless if she stayed? There was no hiding that she and Fili were together anymore, so that hardly mattered. Thorin scowled at her, she assumed for taking too long to answer. Which was actually helpful, because it made up her mind for her. He would probably be angry with her no matter what she chose, anyway.

"I'm staying with Fili." Thorin's scowl deepened, and for some reason Moira felt the need to explain. "You don't need a Ranger inside the Mountain. I got you through the wild already, I've done my job."

"Then go." He growled and turned his back to her, and for a heartbeat Moira wondered if she should have said or done something different. But no, there was never really any other choice now. They weren't going to need her there, and she wasn't leaving Fili. Orcs were going to attack Laketown tonight, and then the Dragon would come. She could do more good here.

Moira didn't know that Thorin watched her back with something akin to appreciation. If his foolish nephew insisted on loving a human, at least he'd picked one who seemed loyal enough to stay by his side. Even if he's wrong. he thought darkly. But a woman should always support her mate, at least in public. Thorin visibly shook that thought away, scolding himself for it. The Ranger was NOT his nephew's mate. There was no way Mahal would make a human the One for a Prince of Durin's Line. He pushed the thought from his mind and turned back to loading the boats. He had a quest to complete and a homeland to reclaim, possibly even a dragon to slay. He had no time to worry about his nephew's romantic pursuits.

~000~

No sooner had a hungover Bofur joined them on the wharf then Kili began to collapse. Moira knew that the selfish, greedy Master of Laketown wasn't going to help them, but she didn't protest as they rushed back to the Large House. The sooner they got it out of the way, the better. The Master and Alfrid had just reached the steps when the desperate group came rushing up.

Fili called for them to stop. "Please, we need your help, my brother is sick."

"Sick? Is it infectious?" the Master's tone was panicked, and as he drew further away he covered his mouth and nose with a dirty, crusty handkerchief. That'll help. Moira thought sarcastically as he commanded Alfrid to keep the "infected" away from him.

The gray-bearded healer stepped forward, pleading. "Please, we need medicine."

"Do I look an apothecary?" Alfrid snapped, and rage built in Moira's chest at his indifference. "The Master is a busy man, he doesn't have time to worry about sick Dwarves." Alfrid looked at her now, and there was an evil gleam in his eye. "Or their whores."

Moira felt her hand curl into a fist, at the same time that Fili growled angrily behind her. She unconsciously took a step forward to do something that would certainly have gotten them all arrested, but thankfully Oin saw her intent. The old healer grabbed her by the wrist, shaking his head. When Moira looked back up to where Alfrid had stood just a moment before, he and the Master had already turned around and were scurrying up the stairs, the Master declaring loudly "What this town needs is a good purge!" Coward. Moira thought. If only I had the time to kick your ass.

There was only one other place they could possibly turn to for aid, even if he was not currently well-disposed towards them. Soon they were on Bard's doorstep again. As predicted, when he flung open the door, he was not happy to see them.

"No, I'm done with Dwarves." His eyes flicked to Moira, and hardened. "And you're a liar. Go away."

Moira plunged forward and held open the door. "Yes, I lied to you. I'm sorry. I was trying to protect my friends." Bard looked unconvinced.

"Please!" Bofur begged. "No one will help us. Kili's sick. He's very sick."

Bard turned to where Oin and Fili were holding the dark-haired prince between them, and there was indecision in his eyes. Kili had gotten exponentially worse in a short time. He was panting with the effort it took to breathe. He was now so pallid he looked like a ghost, the whiteness of his skin a stark contrast to his dark hair and stubble. He sagged between his brother and the healer, not having the power to hold himself up anymore.

Bard acquiesced. "Bring him inside. Quickly." Apparently he had a soft spot for strays.

"Thank you." Moira was genuinely relieved, and she was sure it showed on her face and in her voice. For a moment she had thought that Bard's confusing anger at her would lead him to turn them away. Bard nodded, a strange expression on his face, and held the door open for her.

Soon Kili was laid in a bed, where he was writhing in agony, his moans of pain having gotten louder. Fili clutched his hand tightly, hovering protectively. When Moira returned to the bedside with a small bowl of cold water and some scraps of cloth, Fili met her eyes, and the desperation in them broke her heart.

"I can't lose him." he sounded strangled.

"You won't." Moira knew he wouldn't believe her, but she had to reassure him anyway. "I promise, Fili, you won't." Moira handed him a wet washcloth, and he drew it tenderly across his brother's forehead, whispering something to him in Khuzdul as he did so.

Bard was searching through his small cache of (mostly empty) glass jars filled with herbs, searching for the appropriate medicine to administer. Oin, unsatisfied with his selection, asked for kingsfoil, drawing a confused look from Bard.

"Kingsfoil? That's a weed, we feed it to the pigs." he responded. Bofur rushed out, looking for pigs he could steal their meal from. That was when the rumbling started. The room shook, causing dust and debris to fall from the ceiling. And even though Moira had known it would be coming, sweet Odin, it was terrifying. All movement in the room froze, as everyone looked at each other. They were all thinking one word: Smaug.

Sigrid called to her father for reassurance, but Bain stated what everyone was thinking, "That came from the Mountain."

Fili jumped forward then, taking on the commanding tone of Erebor's Heir Apparent, as he addressed Bard. "You should leave us. Take your children, get out of here."

"And go where?" The bargeman responded, despairingly. "There is nowhere to go."

Bard's youngest was terrified. "Are we going to die, Da?"

Bard smiled comfortingly then, his fatherly instincts taking over. "No darling." Moira knew that he was projecting a confidence he didn't feel. She had been a parent many times, and any parent would lie to protect their children from the horrible truth of life at times. You never show your uncertainty to a child during an emergency such as this.

But Tilda was not reassured. "But the dragon, it's going to kill us."

Bard reached up into the rafters of the house and pulled down something that shocked everyone in the room (except Moira): A black arrow. Bard's lips were set into a line of grim determination. "Not if I kill it first." Moira had to admit that he struck quite a heroic figure at that moment. Bain followed his father out the door and down into the town, but it wasn't long before he returned, reporting that Bard had been arrested. Lovely.

Sigrid was standing outside on the balcony when the Orcs came, literally dropping down from the sky (or more accurately, the rooftops) and then there was no more time to think. All there was now was survival and fighting. Fili threw himself at the Orc nearest to the human girl with no weapon but his hands, desperately holding it back as Sigrid and Tilda hid under the table. Moira ran to the kitchen. She had made a point to memorize where Sigrid had put the kitchen knives away. She pulled three of them out of the drawer, tossing one to Oin as she did so. The old Dwarf grabbed it in midair and stabbed the nearest Orc, first slashing at his thighs and then cutting his throat when he collapsed. When it fell he had the opportunity to take his sword. Crudely-made it may be, but it was better than any kitchen knife.

Moira brandished the two knives left as if they were her daggers, and rushed to where Fili was engaged in a barehanded wrestling match with one of the larger Orcs. She silently thanked Odin that she had received trousers from the Master and wasn't tripping on that horrible dress as she did so. The Orc saw her coming, but he was so busy with Fili had he couldn't mount a successful defense, and she cut him down easily. Foul-smelling black gore rained down on both her and Fili. There were so many of the Orcs, and they had no real weapons. It wasn't looking good. Hela, the best Bain could seem to do was to throw plates at the Orcs, but at least it was something.

Just then, Tauriel came rushing through the door, quickly dispatching three Orcs in a row. An Orc fell through the ceiling, with Legolas right behind him. The blonde Elf-Prince landed on the table in a crouch, his cat-like reflexes clearly still intact. Between the two Elves, the room was soon completely clear of Orcs.

"You killed them all." Bain's voice held obvious awe. Hey, pretty sure me and Oin took care of a few! Moira couldn't help but think, slightly miffed that Bain was giving all the credit to the Elves.

The Elf-Prince merely responded coolly "There are others." as he moved to the door of the house. He never looked at the human children who had addressed him, his mind set only on hunting down the rest of the Orc pack. His tone was commanding as he called his companion to him."Tauriel."

But Tauriel was looking at Kili, laying on the ground, writhing and moaning in agony, seemingly unseeing to the world around him. Oin looked up at Fili, desperation and despair written all over his graying face. "We are losing him." Legolas called Tauriel's name again, and then exited swiftly, not looking behind him this time. Looking regretful, Tauriel followed him to the door, right as Bofur rushed in, a small, flowering, leafy green herb in his hands.

"Athelas!" Tauriel snatched the herb from his hands and clutched it as if it were a life-raft. Bofur, confused, stared at her open-mouthed for a few seconds, before managing to gasp out "What are you doing?" There were almost tears in the red-haired She-Elf's eyes as she answered him. "I'm going to save him."

~000~

Tauriel was washing her hands, probably worn out from the effort of the magic she had just used to save Kili, who was delirious and more-or-less passed out on the table. Moira and Fili stood off to the side of the kitchen, Moira leaning on him for support. Oin soon came to join the couple."I've heard tell of the wonders of Elvish medicine. That was a privilege to witness."

Fili grunted noncommittally, keeping an eye on the She-Elf from across the room.

"Are you going to thank her?" Moira asked him. Fili gave her an incredulous look, as if the answer should be obvious.

"What?" Moira asked innocently. "She's not Thranduil. And she did just save your brother's life."

Fili just scowled in response, and for a second, he looked like Thorin. Only blonder. "Well, if you're not, I'm going to." Before he could protest, she pushed herself away from the counter and went to the She-Elf – no, Tauriel, Moira corrected herself. Her hazel eyes regarded her curiously, but guardedly, as she approached.

"Hey," Moira said softly. "I just want to thank you."

Tauriel looked surprised, but Moira continued. "Kili isn't just my friend. He's Fili's brother and they mean the world to each other. I don't even want to even think about what it would have done to Fili if we lost him."

Tauriel's face softened, and she smiled gently. She really was beautiful when she smiled. "You love him very much."

Moira nodded. "I do."

"I am glad to help." Tauriel said. "It is the least I could do, after ..." she didn't need to finish her sentence. They both know what she was referring to. Both women looked to the other side of the room now, where the two Dwarves were watching their interaction carefully.

"He's still mad about what happened." Moira said.

Tauriel nodded. "He has every right to be. I cannot ask for forgiveness for my part in it."

"Well, you should know, I don't blame you."

Tauriel looked shocked for a moment, before she lowered her eyes, avoiding Moira's gaze. The redhead murmured what Moira thought was a thank-you, or maybe another apology. But she just nodded and returned to Fili, who wrapped an arm protectively around her.

~000~

Four Dwarves, three human children, a Ranger, and an Elf are all packed into one small boat. Sounds like the start of a very bad joke. Moira thought to herself as Tauriel steered their little craft through the suddenly crowded Lake, as the inhabitants of Laketown all attempted to evacuate. But it was no joke. Their rag-tag little group was trying desperately to escape the Dragon that flew and swooped and dive-bombed the little town, bellowing out threats in Benedict Cumberbatch's voice. I'll never be able to watch Sherlock again without having a panic attack. Moira found herself thinking.

"Look out!" bellowed Bain. Their boat actually ran up against the massive barge that Master was on, laden down with gold, and they were nearly capsized by it. After the Master's boat powered past them, they heard Alfrid comment that they were still too heavy and would need to lose some weight. Predictably, it was Alfrid that the Master threw overboard. Unfortunately for them.

As the nearest boat in sight, it was to them that Alfrid paddled desperately. He gripped the edge, trying to climb in, and nearly upset the the vessel again. Most of the craft's occupants flung themselves to the other side, attempting to balance the weight. "You have to help me!" he shrieked, clinging onto the side of their boat. Moira finally got to vent her anger at him, landing a hard punch on his nose. Alfrid shrieked again but didn't let go, so she hit again, and again. On the third punch she felt rather than heard a sickening crunch, and he finally released his hold on them. "You can't!" He howled angrily as he bobbed in the water, holding his bloody and probably broken nose. "You wouldn't!"

"Oh yes I would." Moira hissed back. "I'm just a Dwarf's whore, remember? I'm no hero." I hope you drown, she almost added, but thought better of it when she saw the look on the faces of some the others in the boat. Thankfully there was soon a distraction.

Bard's only son let out a shout. "Da!" Everyone in the little watercraft turned and looked where Bain's gaze was focused. Illuminated by the fire of the town burning all around him, the outline of Bard fitting his arrow to the bow and taking aim was plain. He stood in the tallest tower of Esgaroth, and his bell-tower was aflame, like the rest of the little town on the lake. He was in danger of it collapsing around him, but he was ignoring his own peril in order to focus on firing at the massive dragon that was swooping down for another fire attack.

"He hit it!" Kili bellowed joyfully. "He hit the dragon!
Tauriel let out a little gasp of disbelief. "That's not possible ..."

Kili was more boisterous than usual (understandably, considering their circumstances). "He did!" he practically crowed. "Bard hit his mark, I saw!"

"It does not matter." Tauriel's face was grim. "His arrows cannot pierce it's hide. I fear nothing will."

SHIT! Moira had completely forgotten about that. Then she saw the look on Bain's face, and she remembered that he had chased back after his father. She grabbed his arm. No way she was letting a kid do this. This wasn't a movie anymore, this was real life. Her life. And Moira would not allow a child to face such terrible danger on her behalf. Not happening.

"Bain, where is it?" the boy looked at her with wide, confused eyes."The black arrow! He would have told you to hide it, before the guards came!"

"How did you – "

She shook him a little. "Not important right now! Where is it? I'll take it to him, I promise!"

He told her. She nodded, and before she could change her mind, Moira leapt into the cold water. After the heat of the fires raging around them, it actually felt amazing. She heard Fili scream her name, but regretfully, she ignored it as she swam towards the nearest wharf. When she climbed up onto it, she crouched, staying low in hopes of avoiding Smaug's gaze. She spared one look back and her eyes locked with Fili's. He was clearly panicked, and looked almost ready to jump into the water and follow her.

"We cannot go back." She could hear Tauriel saying.

"Go!" Moira yelled to Fili. "I'll be fine, I'll catch up!" Not waiting for a response, she turned and ran into the inferno that Laketown had become.

~000~

Author's Notes: Okay I went full evil-author and left it on a cliffhanger. Sorry, not sorry! And maybe leaving Alfrid to drown isn't particularly heroic, but I enjoy writing her as being just a little bit morally ambiguous. That's what happens when the very first world she ended up in was Westeros.