As she watched the boat depart, the ice in Bell's heart thickened, deep crystalline shards branching out until it felt that there was nothing left but frost and rime. Gooseflesh pimpled on her arms and she hugged herself tight, her teeth beginning to chatter despite the second-hand cloak she wore against the morning chill.

Someone touched her shoulder and she glanced up to find the silver-haired woman she had spoken to earlier standing at her side, looking down at her with a gentle smile. "Come away, Miss Goodchild. Let's go and get your things."

Bell blinked. "My things?"

"The Master is closing the house now that the company has departed. You'll stay with me."

It made sense, of course. Such a large house was too much for any one person, much less one so small has a hobbit. Bell closed her eyes and tried to focus on the here and now. The woman's name appeared on the tip of her tongue. "Mistress Auda, was it?"

At the woman's nod, Bell continued. "Do you have room for me? You'd mentioned a number of children?"

"I'm the mistress of Lake-town's orphanage," she said. "It's the one place where there is always room for one more, although we certainly hope never to need to have another join our family. I do hope you like children."

Before Bell could respond, heavy footsteps drew near, creaking the planks underfoot. The Master and Alfrid approached. "Mistress Auda has already found you," said the Master, scratching his broad belly. "Good. I trust you'll leave the house as you found it, and will be moved before the noon-time meal."

Had Thorin realized how quickly she would be shuffled into the orphanage, or even that she would be placed there at all? Or had he simply heard what he had hoped for-that she would be cared for by the Lake-men-and not given thought to what that would entail? She expected not. It wouldn't match with his expectation of what was due to a king and the king's family. It didn't matter. Bell did enjoy children, although she had not spent much time in their company, and she expected she could be of use to Auda. It would be good to have something to do to fill the days.

"I'll see to the cleaning at once," she replied.

Alfrid stepped closer, so near that Bell had to tilt her head to look him in the eye. He smelled of fish oil and pipeweed that made her want to sneeze. "Now, Father," Alfrid said, not moving his gaze from her face, "is the orphanage really a proper place for a young woman? She's far from home. We could offer her far more comfort. I have a spare room in my house." He ran a hand over the sweep of her shoulder. "I could keep a special eye on her."

Bell took a reflexive step back, only just refraining from slapping his hand away. "Thank you, I'm sure," she said, "but I will be more than comfortable with Mistress Auda."

"With all those children? You'll not have a moment's peace."

The way Alfrid's gaze slipped down over her body made Bell shiver and she crossed her arms in front of herself.

Auda laid an arm around Bell's shoulders. "The man who will be her husband has only just sailed away, Alfrid. I may not be a boatman, but I have raised many, and not one of them wouldn't go after him if I asked. Bother your fancy ladies in Lowside if you must, but leave Miss Goodchild be. Come," she said, turning Bell away and leading her down the dock through the last remaining Lake-men who had come to see the Dwarves off, "I'll see you to the house."

Bell said nothing, too shaken by the events of the day to do more than allow herself to be shepherded. She felt Alfrid's eyes on her until they turned a corner and slipped out of sight. Auda led her to the door of the house and closed it firmly behind them.

The remains of breakfast cluttered the tables. Bell began to gather dishes in a large basin for washing. The simple, familiar task helped to steady her. When the orphanage mistress added a stack of plates to the basin, Bell gave her a grateful half-smile. A full one was beyond her capability. "Thank you, Mistress. I'm in your debt."

"The Master is trouble enough," Auda said, placing a handful of knives on top of the plates, "but that son of his is twice as bad. Always snooping around, staring at the children when he thinks I'm not watching. And what can I do? Report him? To who? His father?"

Bell pumped the basin full of cold water from a spout that pulled it up from the lake, and set about scrubbing, her hands quickly chilling. "Is there someone with them now? I'll be all right if you need to return."

"We'll finish this faster with the two of us, and I left a pair of helpers to manage breakfast. They'll be fine until we're back."

After that, they worked together in silence, quickly finishing the dishes and gathering bedding into bundles to carry back to the orphanage-who had donated them in the first place-to launder. Bell lingered over her own blankets, pressing them to her face, trying to touch any last imprint of Thorin's warmth, but she was left disappointed, save for the lingering scent of him.

Soon, all was in readiness and the two women left the house, shutting it tight behind them, then Auda gathered up an armful of laundry and Bell followed her away, barely able to see over the top of her own bundle of sheets.

#

The orphanage stood at the end of a dock stretching deep into the long lake. The building had two floors, but had settled so that it stood at a slight cant, the planks black with years of residue from fish-oil fueled smoke. Despite the air of decrepitude, the windows were lined by white curtains that reminded Bell painfully of her own room back in the Shire, and giggles and shouts were audible even from a distance.

Auda led Bell inside and they handed their burdens into the waiting arms of two young women who vanished through a door, leaving them in a wide open room filled with children. Several older boys and girls, none older than fourteen, Bell guessed, studied at desks along the far wall. The younger children filled the rest of the space, some still finishing their breakfasts, others chasing each other in circles in a corner of the room blocked off by low shelves.

The clamor was astonishing. Bell tried to count heads, but they kept moving and she found it impossible to keep track. "How many are there?"

"Seventeen," Auda replied, ushering Bell into a stairway just inside the entryway. "We've had as many as thirty-three, in the year after the blistering fever." On the second floor, Auda led the way to a door near the western wall of the building and opened it, revealing a small room with a single cot, a worn trunk at its foot, and little else. "It's not much," Auda said, "but I thought you'd prefer less space and more privacy. The children stay in the dormitories."

"It's lovely," Bell said, placing her small sack with her Elven travel clothes atop the trunk.

"I'll leave you to settle in," Auda said. "The bell rings for mealtime. We eat in the classroom downstairs."

Auda turned to leave, but Bell couldn't stand to be left alone yet again on this day of departing. "Please," she said, "I'd like to help."

Something crashed downstairs, followed by a low wail. Auda's lips twitched. "Well, I'll never turn away an extra set of hands. Come and meet the children."

#

Author's Note: This one's a bit brief, but hopefully the next will be longer. Trying to get things set up so that I can alternate POVs as needed.