It's been a dreadfully long time since I've published a chapter. Spring has been exciting but busy, and I haven't had much time for anything of this sort...but, I'm back anyway.

Chapter 38

"Aria? Fili? Which one of you is in there?" called Ori from the other side of the door.

"It's Aria," I called back, waking with a start to find my head resting on a pillow and the comforting weight of a bedspread over me.

"Good. The boats will be ready in fifteen minutes, so you'd best be ready to go by then," he said.

"Thanks, Ori," I yawned, sitting up, much as it pained me to leave the warmth of drowsiness and slumber behind.

"Hurry, please. Thorin will leave you if you aren't there," he warned.

"Okay," I said, my eyes drifting closed.

When I heard his footsteps retreating down the hall, I sighed. There was no point in trying to stay in bed any longer. I was not going to take a page from Bofur's book and sleep in, so I swung my feet over the side of the bed.

To this day I don't know if it was very comfortable, but from the perspective of a traveler used to sleeping on the ground it was perfect and I was remised to slide out from beneath the covers and stand.

I stretched for a moment, wishing the aches would disappear from my back and feet, but dismissed the complaints in the end and crossed the room to collect my pack. As I did this, my memories of the night before began to surface. I had no memory of climbing into bed or of Fili leaving, so I assumed that both events had taken place after I had fallen asleep.

As far as I was concerned, I hadn't done anything to deserve someone so kind.

I tossed my backpack onto the bed and opened it. I had been wearing the same thing since Rivendell, and I intended to change.

While it was not made to be waterproof, the pack had done a good job of keeping my clothes dry, and once it was open I didn't hesitate in my choosing of a new tunic. There were only two clean ones left, and I had promised myself that I was saving the final one for later.

That tunic was white with encrustations of diamonds and bright blue sapphires around the neckline, the hem, and the cuffs of the sleeves. I wasn't going to touch that one yet...and I wasn't going to stain it either.

The outfit I chose for that morning was black with tiny jade embellishments. Putting on a fresh tunic and pair of leggings, and washing my hands, face, and neck in a basin of freezing water, all in record time, had me fully awake and ready for any challenge thrown my way within minutes.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. As I left the room behind, I realized that he same worries that had crippled me the night before still coursed through my mind. The only difference was that now I could process them. My first order of business was finding Thorin. I had to convince him to leave Kili behind. If he tried to make it to the mountain on his leg, his would miss Tauriel and surely die.

I felt guilty to pursue this course, but I knew that in his greedy state, Thorin wouldn't need much persuading.

It didn't take me long to find our leader. He was pacing back and forth impatiently at the bottom of the steps while supplies were being carried out of the hall by servants and guards alike.

"For once you aren't missing or late. I'm impressed," he greeted me as I hurried down the steps.

"Good morning to you too," I said.

"It won't be a good morning until we have left for the mountain. At the speed these men are going, we won't be on our way until noon," Thorin retorted.

"I wholeheartedly agree. But if it's speed you want, you aren't going to get it anytime soon," I said, choosing my words carefully.

"Why is that?" he asked.

"Kili's injury is getting worse. If his condition continues to progress, he won't be able to walk, let alone keep a good pace," I said.

"You suggest I leave him here?" Thorin asked.

"I'm not suggesting anything. I'm just pointing out the fact that if you aren't at the door for sundown, that's it. Your one chance to retake the mountain is gone," I said.

There was a silence between us that seemed to last forever. I turned back to the hall, anxious for Thorin to reply. I didn't want anyone overhearing our conversation.

"We do what is best for the mountain. If he must stay then so be it," he said, before continuing to pace and ignoring me entirely.

I thought a moment, before deciding that I felt no guilt for what I had just done. I repeated to myself that Kili would die if he went to the mountain.

Of course, unless I could do something, he didn't have a much better chance of survival than he currently found himself in.

The boats were loaded, and we were ready to set off. The crowd of people that had formed along the channel parted to let us through in a single file line. Each member of the company sported a new cloak, helmet, or both; gifts from the Master.

I had politely declined the old brown cloak I'd been offered and was now back in my slightly wrinkled red one, the clasp done up as loosely as possible. I knew it was unlikely that I'd be choked by it, but the scars on my neck were still too new, and I wouldn't forget my run in with the troll anytime soon.

Up ahead, I could see the icy water lapping against the docks.

I had a decision to make, and I had to do it quickly. I had come to a fork in the road. One path would lead me to Erebor. The other would lead me back to Bard's house.

All of a sudden, we stopped moving.

"Let us through," Thorin ordered from up ahead.

"Sorry, not till the Master's band is in place," drawled a nasal voice from up ahead.

Fili, who was further towards the front of the line, glanced back in my direction, hesitated, and then pushed back through the crowd to me.

I smiled as he reached me. I hadn't gotten the chance to speak with him all morning.

"We have to talk before this goes any further," he said.

"I don't understand," I replied, noticing the worry etched into his features.

"I want you to stay here," he said.

"What?" I asked, baffled.

"I won't try to force you, and it's ultimately your choice, but you would be much safer in this town. If we failed...If I failed, then I would do so knowing that you were safe. If we succeed, then you can come straight to the mountain," he reasoned.

I listened patiently. I understood his concern perfectly. If he died, he didn't want me anywhere near the thing doing the killing. I made my decision and the fork in my road evaporated.

"Okay," I said simply.

"Good...hang on, what?" he asked, frowning.

"I'll stay," I said, smiling cheerfully.

"Really? Just like that?" he questioned.

I nodded.

"Well, in that case, this could be the last time we-" he began, but I cut him off, placing my forefinger over his lips.

"It won't be," I said.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," was my assured reply.

He sighed and appeared visibly more relaxed. The line began to move once again, and I stepped aside, letting the dwarves file past me towards the boats.

I had no desire to see Thorin reject his nephew, the evidence of the dragon sickness conspiring with my own suggestions would save Kili, but it was just more proof that the treasure of Erebor was at work within Thorin, warping his judgment.

For these reasons, I turned away from the channel as the last dwarf passed, and made my way back into the streets of Laketown. I wanted to get as far away from the departing company as possible, but though my legs carried me into the crisscrossing maze of docks, walkways, and rickety buildings, I could hear the off-key band of horns and trumpets heralding the beginning of the king's final journey towards the lonely mountain.

I paused half way across a small bridge and turned in its direction, a plan beginning to form in my head.

I had to find Bard's house.

I wasn't sure of just how this would get done, but I was determined to try. I remembered vaguely what the waterway in front of the house looked like, but not well enough to recognize the house.

I wandered through the streets, now with a mission. More than ten minutes later, I was still walking aimlessly.

"I don't believe it. I give you one suggestion, then get up the next morning to see you waltzing about outside my kitchen window," said Albriech's disapproving voice from an open first-floor window.

I ignored has manner and asked, "where's Bard's house?"

He didn't hesitate for of second before replying.

"Take a right, then two lefts. Try not to get killed on the way," he said.

"Have a good day," I answered sarcastically.

He scoffed.

"How did she fall in love with you?" I asked as if completely baffled by this occurrence.

"Well, if you're referring to Sigrid, she doesn't hate a soul. Why me? I'm still asking myself that question," he said, the frown on his face easing.

"Yeah, it isn't because of your manners," I said, before turning and walking away.

"Hey, you!" he called.

I just turned around, not saying a word.

"Right is that way," he said, nodding his head in the opposite direction to that which I had been headed in.

I rolled my eyes and turned around.

Minutes later, I was able to find the house in question, though I had been extra sure to check which directions I turned to get there.

I walked up the stairs in much the same manner as I had the day before, noticing the absence of spies from the boats in front of the house.

I knocked on the door and heard scuffling from inside and something that might have been the drawing of steel.

The door opened to reveal a stern-faced Bard.

"What, now? Am I going to have the entire company of Thorin Oakenshield back under my roof by sundown?" he asked.

"No, everyone else went to go reclaim a mountain," I said dismissively.

"A quest that could not bare worse fruit for this town," Bard said.

"That, I agree with," I said.

"I find that hard to believe, seeing as you came along with them," Bard retorted.

"They're stubborn to a fault. I'm only here to make sure that trait doesn't backfire on them too badly."

Lowering his voice, Bard said, "I'm afraid that for one of them it already has."

I gulped. I knew what he said was true, and that only directed me to thoughts of a second backfiring. One I had yet to halt.

"He's getting worse," I acknowledged.

Bard nodded and opened the door to me. I walked over the threshold and into the house, where I was greeted by Bain, who stood just inside.

"I'll be back tonight," Bard addressed his son, before hurrying out the door and down the steps.

Bain closed the door behind me and I surveyed the living area. The dining room table still took up much of the room, and I could see that a curtain along the wall. It usually would have separated the three beds beyond it from sight, but now it was drawn back, and the smallest of the three beds had been drawn out and now bore a fevered looking Kili. Oin sat on a stool beside him bathing his brow with a cloth dipped in a bowl of water that Fili was holding. Bofur had fallen asleep again and now sat on the floor, head drooping.

Not one of them noticed my arrival, and I didn't attempt to make it known, instead, I walked across the room and asked Oin if there was anything I could do to help but he shook his head.

I deposited my pack on the floor and sat on the next largest bed, and looked on in helpless worry.

Around a half hour later, Oin retired the towel and the bowl, saying that Kili's fever wasn't high enough to need a cool down.

"Well, that's good to hear," Kili said weakly, wincing as he attempted to reposition his head.

Oin went to clean the cloth in a pot of boiling water over the fire, and Fili and I followed him.

"I knew you'd never really let us leave you behind so easily," Fili whispered as we walked.

"It's true, I wouldn't," I said.

When we reached Oin, he straightened from his task and spoke to us in hushed tones.

"I don't understand this. I've treated many an arrow wound but never have I seen a case like this. Only a fraction turn nasty, and none as bad a this," Oin said, shaking his head.

"I'll bet you the arrow was tampered with," I said.

"Aye, I can't think of another explanation than that myself," Oin agreed. "I'll take another look at it to be certain," he said, before leaving Fili and me to stand by the fire and returning to Kili's side.

"That wasn't a guess, was it," Fili said.

"No," I confirmed.

Silence.

"Aria, is he going to die? Am I going to lose my only brother to an orc's arrow?" he asked.

I made eye contact and saw the desperation of one helpless to stop the inevitable reflected in their depths.

I shook my head, voice catching in my throat as I tried to answer.

"I-I can't tell you," I said.

"Why not? You've told me everything else," Fili demanded, anger finding its way into his demeanor.

"Because your reactions to events need to be genuine. I'm sorry, but I refuse," I said.

Fili sighed and tried to run a hand through his hair, stopping when he reached the clip holding it in place.

We didn't talk much over the next couple of hours, even when Bofur woke up. Kili just kept slipping further and further away from us.

I could tell that Oin, Fili, and Bofur knew Kili was sicker than they had ever seen him, but I sensed that I was the only one who could see the light leaving him, everything that made him the person he was slipping away into nothing. It was more than an infection, more than a wound, and it was growing more deadly by the minute.

Bard was still gone when Sigrid said that she was going to start on dinner. I was bored out of my wits by then, but moreover, I was terrified. It was for that reason that I volunteered to help. Sigrid accepted, seeing that Tilda had dozed off, and I joined her at the counter, by then I regretted my decision to be anywhere near preparing food.

"Could you start by peeling some of those potatoes?" She asked, pointing to a basket of them tucked under the table.

I nodded and worked through the task without causing havoc.

"Anything else?" I asked when I had finished.

"Could you grab the salt for me? It's below that cupboard," she said, gesturing.

I saw it and moved to hand it to her, having to lean up on tiptoe to reach it.

"Why do you have so many spices and herbs?" I asked. I could guess why, and easily too, but I wanted to know more about what had happened to Bard's wife.

"Oh, my mother was the best healer in Laketown. She always had a full store handy. After she died, I couldn't bear to let it run low. That is all I have to remember her by," Sigrid said, smiling sadly.

"Albriech said she healed him when he was young," I said.

"She healed many people that year. There was a sickness that spread through the town killing young, old, and frail people. My mother...she was protected from the sickness and that let her help a lot of people. That winter, after the sickness had all but vanished, Tilda was born. It was then that my mother decided her family meant more to her than the gift that protected her and prolonged her life. She gave up the gift, and I never remember her being so happy."

Here Sigrid paused, and I took that opportunity to ask a question. I knew where this was headed. It sounded too similar to the story that Albriech had told me about the elf that had ended elven visits to Laketown.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Well, Al got sick. He got very sick. The only way he would survive was with my mother's treatment, and since she had healed so many, we thought nothing of her visiting one more case. We didn't take into account the fact that she was no longer protected and while she was healing Al, she was taken ill. She wouldn't let any of us near her after that. She didn't want us getting sick. The Elvenking made an attempt to save her, thinking that he could provide her with healing care back in the Woodland Realm. She never made it there," Sigrid said, her voice reduced to a whisper, and a far off look in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," I said lamely, unsure of what other consolation I could give.

"Why? You did nothing wrong," she said, shaking her head and turning back to a fish she was descaling.

"I shouldn't have pried."

"Really, it's nothing to worry about. Salt?" she asked, and I handed it to her.

Nobody ate much for supper, though it was well prepared, and Sigrid didn't seem surprised by this at all, telling me that it was no accident that the portions had been undersized. Fili ate nothing at all but knelt in ashen silence beside Kili.

After the plates were cleared, there was nothing left to do but wait.

The sun went down.

Somewhere out there Thorin had unlocked the secret door.

I felt my nerves awakened. I had always known that this would be a night of close calls and danger, yet somehow, I had become so preoccupied with Ravenhill and the battle to come that I had completely overlooked Smaug. I tried to doze off, but every time my eyes fell shut, I could see a dragon imprinted on my lids. Wreathed in flame and drawing ever closer to Laketown.

Bard arrived home shortly after sunset and apart from his children's relieved greetings, the mood was no less grim.

My companions grew more uneasy.

Kili worsened.

The moon climbed skywards.

The pain was becoming too much for Kili to bear. He moaned, in distress, and with every movement he made, another jolt of pain shot up his leg.

I poured scalding water from the kettle into a bowl, which Bofur rushed to Kili's bedside. I felt useless, helpless, and all prior knowledge of what was to come fled my mind. All I could think was that Kili was growing closer and closer to death, and there was no sign of reprieve.

"Can you not do something?" Fili asked. He was doing a poor job of concealing his panic, and now it saturated his voice.

Oin shook his head to this. "I need herbs, something to bring down his fever."

At this, Bard took a bag down from the medicine cabinet and began to rummage through it.

"I have nightshade, feverfew-" he began but was cut off by Oin.

"They're no use to me. Do you have any Kingsfoil?" the old healer asked.

"No, it's a weed. We feed it to the pigs," Bard answered, confused.

Bofur seemed to perk up at this. "Pigs? Weed? Right," he said.

Pointing at Kili, he said "Don't move," and with that he was off, leaving the house behind.

I hoped for his speedy return, but he did not come.

Back to waiting it was. Only, this time, Kili was sweating and groaning and deteriorating before our eyes.

I was shaken from panicked shock by a quaking and reverberating. It was coming from the mountain.

"Da?" Sigrid asked though I could see from the fear in her eyes that she knew exactly what was going on.

"It's coming from the mountain," said Bain.

I turned to watch Fili as her left Kili's side for the first time in hours and spoke to Bard.

"You should leave us. Take your children; get out of here," he advised the bargeman.

"And go where? There is nowhere to go," Bard said in defeat.

"Are we going to die, Da?" little Tilda asked, her voice shaking.

"No, darling," Bard assured her.

"The dragon, it's going to kill us," Tilda persisted.

Bard gave his children a concerned look, and I could see wheels spinning behind his eyes. Another moment passed, and he reached up into a plant drying rack suspended from the ceiling and produced the black arrow.

None of Howard Shore's music blazed in the background, but it didn't take music to send a monumental shiver up my spine. That arrow was destined to seal the fate of the entire region and bring to a close, the chapter of exile in the lives of all Erebor's dwarves. Such an important piece of metalwork and it was mere feet away from me.

The sight of this arrow pulled me back from the story, and I was suddenly able to remember that the arrow was nothing compared to the people I shared this room with. Three members of the company of Thorin Oakenshield, two heirs of Durin, a dragon slayer, and a future king of Dale who would one day fight in the War of the Ring.

I was rooted to the spot, for it was only then that I was struck with my situation. Though I would not be heralded in the tales recalling this time, I was as much a key player in these events as any of the others in the room. It was time that I started to act like one.

These thoughts, that seemed to halt time had bombarded my head over the course of only a few seconds, and with my final resolution came Bard's words, echoing through my head and resonating about the small house.

"Not if I kill it first."

And he was gone into the night, with Bain close at his heels.

I snapped into action, hurrying back to the spot where I had dropped my pack, and I opened it quickly.

I had to think.

The leaves were the only part of the puzzle that had clicked into place. They could be used to make the one who consumed them fall into a death-like slumber, only awakened by the sunrise of the next day.

I mentally thanked my torn copy of Romeo and Juliet for aiding me with this bit of knowledge. So, how did it become useful?

I tapped the bottle with my fingernail until the answer came to me.

Of course.

These leaves were meant to ensure that the dwarves assumed their princes and king to be dead. They would bury them before sundown, and rise the next morning to find the three dwarrows among the living.

Or not.

They had all sustained mortal injuries, received on screen. If the trend continued, then I couldn't change a thing that was on the screen like their deaths had been, and making them fall asleep wouldn't help.

I had to find a way to change their deaths without actually changing their deaths. It had to be possible.

Think.

Think.

Think.

And think I did. For quite some time. I explored every possibility, but each failed.

I couldn't replace Azog's and Bolg's weapons with fakes. That was ridiculous.

I couldn't manipulate steel to be malleable and soft. That was impossible.

I couldn't let the orcs take their course. That was unthinkable.

Bain returned and paced the room in impatience.

Eventually, I heard a thud outside, and without really thinking, I asked, "Is that Bard? He couldn't be back already, could he?"

"I'll check," Sigrid volunteered.

"Oh, hell on earth," I groaned as I realized what I'd just said.

I stuffed the vial back into my pack only second before I heard Sigrid scream. She pulled herself back inside the house, struggling to shut the door on the orc that had dropped from the roof to land beside her.

I shoved my pack beneath the largest bed and stood, drawing my dagger from my waist. It was the first time that this had ever been my instinct.

"Stay down," Fili called to me as Sigrid's orc managed to bust its way into the house. At almost the same moment, two more orcs burst into the house, one through a small back door, and another through the ceiling.

I ducked back behind the bed, dagger still in hand. Everything in me was screaming to help, to get up, to move. I had to remind myself that my death ensured Fili's and Kili's. It was only that thought that kept me on the floor.

Then, through the screaming, crashing, and thudding, I heard a new sound. The sharp draw of steel.

I breathed a sigh of relief. No orc blade made that noise when pulled from its sheath. The screaming subsided and the thuds and thumps became more calculated, now accompanied by the sound of steel cutting cleanly through flesh.

Tauriel and Legolas had easily tracked the orcs to Laketown, biding their time, waiting for the perfect moment to announce to the filthy beasts that the hunters had become the hunted. Tauriel had looked forward to this more and more as the day progressed. Tauriel was ready for the announcement, and she was perfectly ready to let her blade do all the talking.

The elves plan had been interrupted when Bolg and his foul battalion made their way into Laketown. Ideas of an ambush had been pushed to the back of Tauriel's thoughts. The only thing that mattered now was protecting the lives of the townsfolk that were now in danger. When a small bunch of orcs had detached themselves from the main band, Tauriel and Legolas had followed, until they were lead to a house.

The orcs had attacked and Tauriel could hear screams from within. Anger boiled within Tauriel's blood at the thought that these creatures were willing to attack completely random targets. Fueled by the noises of a scuffle emanating from the house, she made her entrance, thrusting her dagger into the chest of an orc that had been about to skulk through the door to join the fight.

Tauriel could see immediately that this was no random attack. She caught a glimpse of one of the older dwarves from the company, standing in the rubble of what once had been a kitchen table. This was all she had time to survey, before engaging. Tauriel made quick work of the first two orcs she could get her blades into and had time only to notice Legolas slipping through a hole in the roof before joining a third in battle. As

Tauriel gained the upper hand against a fourth opponent, she heard a shout of pure agony from some ways across the room and turned both out of instinct and in terror.

Her throwing arm acted almost of its own accord, hurling a knife into the chest of the orc that was standing over Kili.

The sight of him in pain but alive lent energy to her next movements as she dodged the sword of an attacker and used the wall behind her to get a running kick at the sword's owner, throwing it to the ground. She quickly dispatched yet another orc attempting to enter the house before dealing with the one on the floor and turning to deal with an opponent that had begun to cause Legolas trouble.

Tauriel began to wonder when they would stop coming as she knifed an orc attempting to kill Fili and a human boy. Her thoughts distracted her long enough that she let her guard down. This gave the orc behind her time to raise his sword. She whirled to stop the creatur and would have failed had Kili not taken that chance to stab the orc between the ribs.

Tauriel watched, shocked, as they both fell to the ground. The orc was dead, but for the first time, she could see Kili clearly, and she knew that he wasn't much better off than the orc beside him.

As the last screams died off, Tauriel breathed heavily.

Hmm, I bet we can think of an elf who fits the description of Sigrid's mother.

Tik Tok, Aria, time is slipping, and you need a final solution!

Tauriel seems to be attracting problem after problem. Kili's healing will come at a cost, and on top of everything else, the dwarves woke up a dragon.

Oh, and brownie points to those who know where Tauriel's father got his advice from.