Bell jolted awake with a choked scream from a dream filled with raging flames.

The room was still dark, only pale moonlight filtering in through the shutters. She felt the bed shift beneath her, then Thorin's hand on her shoulder. "Bell?"

Stifling her shudders, Bell blinked away the remnants of nightmare clinging to her vision like cobwebs. "It's nothing," she whispered. "Just a dream."

"You're sure?" Gravelly and worn, Thorin's voice sounded so weary.

Bell tucked her head beneath his chin and nodded. "Sleep," she said, concentrating on taking slow, even breaths. This was Thorin's last night in the relative safety of Lake-town, and she had no desire to disturb it. Nestled close against him, the fiery inferno of her dream slipped away, drowned in the gentle breeze of his breath against the top of her head.

Lake-town was never truly quiet. The splash of water against the pilings, wood creaking with the subtle shifting of the piers, and the thud of boats bumping up against their moorings, never ceased. Fully awake now, Bell listened to the sounds that would make up her world. How lonely. How hollow. The water always pulling-the boats straining to break free from their ties. What would it be like when Thorin and the rest of the company were gone? Would she fashion her own ropes woven of nothing more than the cords of her promise to keep her bound to the city while the current of her heart dragged her thoughts ever northward?

Already she felt ice beginning to form in the shell of her heart. Better to be frozen. Better to feel nothing than the clogging emptiness she knew was coming. To build a fortress, strong as a glacier and deep as the roots of the mountain. Behind her walls she could hide, until the dragon be slain and Erebor retaken.

But not until Thorin's ship had passed beyond sight.

For the moment, however, sleep seemed impossible. Her racing mind would not be stilled. Slipping from under Thorin's arm, Bell tried to leave the bed, but found his hand laced tightly in her long curls. Gently, so as not to disturb him, she loosened his grasp, sliding the pale tresses free. His hand clenched reflexively, as if he longed to keep such a little part of her close even in his dreams.

Bell watched him until he relaxed again, his long, dark lashes resting against his cheeks. So beautiful, her Thorin. Strong even in slumber. And he would need all of that strength for what lay ahead.

Well, and so she would see to it that when he left, he wanted for nothing. On silent feet, she slipped from the room and made her way to the kitchen. If she couldn't sleep, then she could at least prepare a last good breakfast for the company, and maybe lose herself in the familiar comfort of flour and eggs.

#

Thorin woke to an empty bed and the smell of crisping bacon. He rolled to his side, his hand seeking the space where Bell had been. The blankets were cool to the touch. She'd been gone for some time, despite the fact that the first pale glints of pre-dawn were only just beginning to filter through the fog that had settled during the night.

Letting himself relax back onto the pillow, Thorin looked up at the ceiling, tracing the whorls that curved in the grain of the wooden planking. His vision felt clearer than it had in many days. The constant headache that had dogged him for so long he hardly noticed it any more had faded, leaving him aware of what it was to be free of pain. He hadn't realized how much the weight of worry over Bell had haunted him. Now, knowing that she would remain safe in Esgaroth, his thoughts turned north to the mountain. His home, so long denied him.

It wasn't long now until Durin's Day, and still many days of travel before they could reach the hidden door, but with the Lake-men's promised aid, he did not doubt they would reach Erebor's doorstep with time to spare. And within . . . the treasure of his people. The Arkenstone.

A goose honked nearby, bringing him back to the present. Voices and the clinking of dishes sounded from the front room of the house. Over them all he heard Bell's musical voice and he smiled. He would reclaim Erebor, then return to claim his bride.

Filled with a sudden rush of energy, Thorin rose and dressed hurriedly. There was much to see to before the dawn fully brightened the world and the company launched their journey north up the long lake.

He followed his nose to the living room and found it filled with Dwarves at trestle tables loaded with sausage, bacon, and hot rolls, along with pitchers of both milk and ale. Everyone was present, even Bombur. Fili saw him approach and hailed him with a grin. "Look at the feast Miss Goodchild has gifted us with, Uncle!"

"I wish we could bottle the smell and bring it along to hearten us on the days when we have nothing but cram," Kili said, with a twinkle in his eye. Cram was a dense travel bread, good for filling the belly and little else save exercising the jaw when you chewed it, so Bard had told Thorin when he asked about it.

Bell hovered in a corner by the kitchen, flour dusting both her apron and the tip of her nose, with a smile on her heart-shaped face, but the smile did not reach her eyes. She looked pale and gray around the edges and dark shadows hid beneath her eyes. Thorin's lips tightened.

"Has everyone finished packing their belongings? Seen to it the weapons are honed and in good repair?"

"Aye," Dwalin nodded, taking a bite of a roll he'd wrapped around a sausage, and talking around the mouthful. "We've taken care of things."

"You should have woken me earlier."

Bell stepped forward, a laden platter in her hands. "I told them not to. You needed all the rest you could get."

And you did not? Thorin thought, but didn't voice the words.

She handed him the platter, her fingers grazing against his own. "Eat. This may be your last good meal for a long, long time."

He tried to hold her gaze, but she glanced away.

Someone pounded at the door.

"I'll get it," Bell said.

Thorin found a spot between Nori and Bilbo and settled himself to his plate.

Bell opened the door. Outside stood the Master, his bulk nearly filling the frame. He barged his way inside, a younger man, dressed in black and with an ill-favored face, at his heels. Bell leapt back and out of the way. The motion caught the younger man's eye. He glanced at Bell, then back again. A flush rose on his pasty-white cheeks and he nibbled on the tip of his tongue.

Thorin's roll crumbled in his fist.

"Thorin Oakenshield," the Master said, spreading his arms wide, "Son of Thrain, Son of Thror, by blood-right King Under the Mountain, your vessel awaits you! The day will soon dawn, and you must be away to catch the best wind."

Thorin rose to his feet, his gaze still on the stranger. "I don't believe I know this man," he said, crossing the room until he stood between Bell and the pallid man watching her like she was a delicacy for his tasting.

"Do you not? This is Alfrid, my son and seneschal. He has overseen many of the preparations for your glorious return to Erebor."

Alfrid turned his attention to Thorin and raised a knowing eyebrow. "This is the she-hobbit you wished to leave under the protection of the city? I confess, I had not expected her to be so very delectable. The charm of a girl-child and the allure of a woman, yes?"

Thorin's hand was on the hilt of his belt-knife before he could as think. If this Lake-man so much as touched Bell with his fetid breath, he wouldn't live to enjoy the riches of a revived Erebor.

Bell's soft touch on the back of his hand stayed him from drawing steel. She stepped out from behind him. "I am Bell Goodchild."

Thorin stood behind her shoulder, so close her hair pressed against his chest. "She's to be my wife," he said, hardly hearing the surprised gasps of many of his company.

The Master clapped his son on the shoulder. "Come, Alfrid. Let us leave these Dwarves to finish their preparations." He smiled broadly at Thorin, but the corner of his right eye twitched and his voice was too boisterous. "The ship departs with sunrise."

Bofur closed the door behind the departing Men, then looked back at Thorin and Bell, both eyebrows raised. "She's to your bride?"

Thorin released his belt-knife and slid his arm around her waist. She stood very straight, tiny tremors coursing down the muscles along her back. "Do you have an objection?"

"Not if she doesn't." A smile brightened Bofur's face. "Well, then, we'd best be about claiming Erebor so you've a place to bring her home to!"

Suddenly, everyone was talking at once, gathering around and pumping his hand, offering congratulations, asking to kiss the bride, which she didn't allow, save from Bilbo, who gave her a brotherly peck on the cheek. Through it all, Bell seemed to withdraw further and further, her voice quiet, one arm wrapped tightly around her chest.

As soon as he could, Thorin pulled her away from the throng toward the hallway. "Finish up your breakfast and gather your things," he said to the men. "We leave in a quarter of an hour." He had finished his own preparations before leaving the house the previous morning.

Bell let him lead her back to her room and sank down to sit on the edge of the bed while he closed the door. Her face was white, pinpricks of red on her cheeks. She nibbled her lower lip, her hands clasped in her lap, fingers twisting the ring on her left hand.

Thorin knelt in front of her, stilling her trembling hands. "Bell? What is it?"

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"For what?"

"I promised myself I'd be strong. That I'd smile and be brave until you were gone. That you wouldn't see how terrified I am. Thorin, I . . . "

He laid one finger against her lips. "Shh. It's all right." He pulled her hands up between them and smoothed his finger over the twined silver strands of the ring. "This ring is a promise, Bell. A pledge that I will give you my life. A Dwarf keeps his word. I know you're afraid. A dragon sleeps beneath that mountain. You'd be a fool if you were not afraid. But know that I will do everything in my power to return to you, though dragonfire and ruin should lie between."

He wiped the last bit of flour that still clung to the tip of her nose away with the back of one knuckle, not releasing her fingers. "In the moments when the world seems darkest, think on this ring and know that I am with you in my heart. The strand that is you is forever wrapped with my own. You are never alone."

Bell blew out a slow breath and squeezed his hands before releasing them. "I have something for you." She fumbled in the pocket of her apron and extended her open palm toward him. Across it lay a thin braid tied with green ribbons, pale glinting curls at each end.

Thorin looked at her more closely and saw a patch of shorter ringlets on the left side of her head, blending in among the mass of her hair. He touched them with a gentle hand and smiled when the curls seemed to caress him back.

"I have nothing else to give," Bell whispered, "and I wanted you to have something of me, like I have your ring. I'm sorry it's not anything better-"

The enormity of what he was leaving behind washed over Thorin like a flooded river and he silenced Bell with a crushing kiss, burying one hand in her hair, the other pulling her to him until there was no space left between them, and when he finally pulled away they were both gasping for breath.

Fili's voice called from down the hall. "Uncle? It's time."

With a quiet sigh, Bell pressed the braid into his hand. "There is no hiding from what's to come. May this bring you luck, and all of my love."

Thorin kissed the golden braid. The scent of apple blossoms still clung to it. "It will not leave my side." He rose and pulled her up with him. "Are you ready?"

Bell straightened her shoulders and nodded. "Lead on."

#

Despite the early hour, many of the folk of Esgaroth had gathered near the boat that had been designated to ferry the company of Thorin to the mouth of the River Running that led to the mountain. The Master and his son held a place of honor on a raised dais at the edge of the dock, and Bell couldn't help but feel Alfrid's constant gaze following her every move, though she did her best to ignore it.

She stood beside the ramp and wished each man a safe journey when they passed down onto the vessel. Dwalin ruffled her hair and bid her a gruff farewell. Fili and Kili bowed and offered her their service, promising as her soon-to-be-nephews to watch over Thorin. When Bilbo came by, she asked, "Did you remember your handkerchief?" He shook his head ruefully and showed her the tip of it poking out of a jacket pocket.

Thorin came last. He stopped before her and cupped her cheek in one callused hand. She tipped her head into his palm, then grazed her lips over the pad beneath his thumb. He smoothed his fingers over the sweep of her brow. There were no words. Those had already been spoken.

And then he was gone, settled among the rest in the base of the boat. A fanfare of trumpets accompanied the splash of ropes being cast off. Cheers rose up all around her, nearly drowning out the soft splash of the lake against the boat's sides as it slipped away from the dock and out onto the lake.

Slowly, the Lake-men's shouts quieted, turning to murmured conversations as the company drifted northward. The sun rising over the Iron Hills in the distance caught in the tattered clouds, turning them a brilliant pink. Beside Bell an old bargeman shook his head. "Nothing good ever came of a red dawn. It were a red dawn on the day when the Old Wyrm brought down the city of Dale."

By the time the boat vanished out of sight, the sky was as red as rubies.

#

Author's Note: Wow, it has been a long time between updates. I can only apologize and hope that you will forgive me. I've gone through the whole story and made minor edits to places that didn't feel quite right (for characterization or imagery), but there have been no major changes. I also now have an outline for the rest of the story, which should help me to forge ahead.

As most of this fic was written before the release of The Desolation of Smaug, I have chosen to ignore a good deal of what was inserted into that film, but since I had already introduced a son of the Master, I decided to claim Alfrid for that role (although I realize that is not how he is presented in the film). Anyway, I am back. Thanks for reading.