CHAPTER 38

Kili's skin colour now closely resembled that of a toilet bowl. Fili stood guard while Oin fussed over his little brother, who kept swatting the old healer's hand away and insisting there was nothing wrong with him.

I watched that exchange with narrowed eyes, having learned very early on in my career to take the 'I'm fine' line from a male patient with a large pinch of salt. A perfect example from back home was one patient who insisted that he was only just 'a little sore' when I got called to see him because his heart rate was so high – we had him on the operating table within an hour and spent a great deal of the night cleaning the poo that had leaked from his perforated bowel out of his abdominal cavity.

And when the boat was out of sight and the crowd started to dwindle, and Kili collapsed in a heap on the wharf, supported under the arms by his frantic-looking older brother, I wasn't that surprised. I was more surprised at Bofur's entrance, who missed the boat entirely because he got white girl wasted the night before and didn't wake up in time. Honestly.

Fili and I both pulled Kili to his feet and placed each of his arms around us. Not only did he look like the insides of a toilet, but he smelled like one too. Not good at all. We needed medicine, stat. And we had none – the cordial of Imladris was gone, as were the bunches of healing herbs that we got in Bywater - they didn't survive the journey from Mirkwood to Laketown. I had the elvish healing book at least, although there was sweet F. A I could do with it in the absence of the aforementioned.

We lugged Kili back to the Master's house, and the not-so-subtle way everyone we walked past refused to approach us or meet our gaze was not lost on me. We wove our way in between the guards and stopped at the foot of the stairs, just as the master and his hunchback friend reached the top.

'Please, help us! My brother is sick.' Fili asked, voice all lined with the level of worry appropriate for the situation.

The master promptly jumped backwards a few feet and covered his mouth and nose in a dirty handkerchief, an act disproportionate to the threat, as though Kili had Ebola, or something. 'Is- is it infectious? Stay back!' He yelped.

Ffs. Although I can't honestly say I expected anything different from such an enormous tosspot.

Oin stood in front of us and implored them to provide us with medicine. This was Middle Earth, though, during a time when many people were disenfranchised, displaced and scared, and therefore largely unwilling to help others in need. So I stood there, with Kili's arm over my shoulder and inwardly rolling my eyes as the hunchback refused our pleas for assistance and told us to 'clear off'. They turned their backs.

'Is this where you want to be when Thorin Oakenshield comes back?' I yelled at their retreating frames.

Some neighbours they were going to be. Fuck Laketown.

Bofur turned around to face us. 'What do we do now?' He was an unusual dwarf, very expressive. Dwarrows are not usually that expressive; they are mostly austere and stony-faced, like Thorin.

Focus, Bonnie. Jesus.

'We need to find someone in this godforsaken shithole to help us.' I muttered, turning Kili around to walk away. 'And somewhere warm and sheltered so Oin and I can actually take care of him.' I exchanged a look with Fili, then. His brow was still creased with concern, but he also looked optimistic, eyes bright and mouth just slightly open. That intense expression got me every time.

'Where?' He asked.

'Well, the only person we know here is Bard, so that's where we're going. I hope he doesn't hold grudges, especially considering how you lot treated him.' I snapped, mainly referring to Bofur, Thorin, and Dwalin.

The rest of them said nothing.

Bard's house was a fair distance from the centre of the town, and I was starting to struggle under the weight of Kili, who was growing weaker and weaker with each passing minute. The sun was now well and truly up, which, combined with the effort of supporting Kili, was making my body rather warm. A bead of sweat ran down the side of my face. Ugh, I hope Fili doesn't notice.

For god's sake, Bonnie, like he cares. He's seen you all hot and sweaty before…snort.

Bofur knocked on the door and turned to us, nodding briefly and pressing his lips together in a way that clearly said 'don't worry, I've got this'. If I wasn't so bloody nervous, the look on his face would have been giggle-worthy.

The door swung open and there was Bard. I idly wondered why he wasn't at work on the barge today, before he said roughly, 'no. I'm done with dwarves. Go away.'

'It's dwarrows.' I said quietly, but the others, who simultaneously pleaded and begged for help, drowned my voice out. And it worked. The tough exterior of Bard the Bargeman folded. I was right about him - a nice guy who was hardened by general hardship. He ushered us into his house where Bain, Sigrid and Tilda were sitting at the kitchen table, just finishing their breakfast.

And kudos to them, they jumped up and immediately ran over to help us, Sigrid taking my bag and weapons and putting them in a corner. I kept Fili's dagger on me though, just in case. Little Tilda immediately put water on to boil, and Bain helped us bring Kili to a bed.

I found all that very interesting. Poor and struggling, but descended from a lordly line, and here they were helping us out where no-one else in their town would. How very neighbourly. I made a silent promise to myself to ensure that this family especially, shared in Erebor's treasure. In any case the wealth of Dale lay within the Mountain as well, so they had just as much right as us, their father being heir to the throne of Dale after all.

Kili vomited violently into a bucket and broke out in a sweat. Oin and I began a thorough assessment of him, and his wound. His pulse was rapid and thready, and overall his skin felt hot, but his hands were cold. He was already going into shock – shutting down peripherally. This was really, really not good. The wound itself didn't look too bad – manky and gross, of course, but nowhere near as infected as it ought to have been, to produce such a strong illness.

'The arrow tip carried a poison,' Oin told me, out of earshot of Fili. 'It was shot from a morgul bow.'

I gasped. 'Does that mean he's going to become a… a wraith?' It took a while for me to think back to the Rings films and remember the right word.

Oin looked surprised that I knew of the connection, but shook his head. 'No, lass, only the morgul blades will render the victim a wraith if a shard of the blade remains behind after the injury.

'But this injury is still life-threatening.' He finished matter-of-factly, and began bathing the wound with warm water.

Fili and Bard were sorting through a large assortment of jars and pouches on the kitchen table, looking for herbs that may be of use. I couldn't think of anything else to do at that moment, so I set about brewing some laudanum. If I couldn't do anything else, at least I could take away his pain.

'Here, Kili,' I said a few minutes later, and presented him with a small clay cup. He looked blearily up at me, big brown eyes looking pained and scared. He was too weak to hold the cup, so I held it for him, and lifted his head up off the pillow so it didn't spill. His hair was absolutely drenched in sweat. 'It will help your pain,' I told him quietly, as he gulped it down.

'Thankyou,' he muttered, eyes closing.

After ten or so minutes, he seemed to improve slightly. His breathing and heart rate slowed, and he slept. I breathed a sigh of relief that we were on top of it, at least for now. Inside I was terrified, and despite having Fili and Oin there with me, I felt very alone. I wondered where the rest of the company were, and if they had found the hidden door, and I wondered whether Gandalf had kept his promise and met with them at the overlook. And I wondered where Legolas, Tauriel and the elf guard were now – whether they were safely back within their forest walls, or still looking for us.

But mostly I wondered, and worried, about my young brother, and whether he would live or die.

I cannot believe that Australia has to wait til Boxing Day for BOFA. Not. bloody. fair.
On the other hand, though, I'm really not ready for all this to end :(