In her dream, Ella waded through a sea of gold.

She was in a great hall filled with thousands upon thousands of golden coins and goblets, glistening gems and jewels that shone bright enough to make up for the absence of any other felt cool beneath her bare feet and jingled with her every step.

She didn't know when or how she had come to this place, but she was in search for something, if only she could remember what it was. It was very important, that much she knew, although not for herself, and she couldn't leave before she had found it. But the hall was huge and it could be anywhere -and anything.

I will know it when I see it, Ella told herself.

And just when she had thought it, she saw it indeed- a faint glimmer in the distance. A large, perfect gem that outshone all the others around it.

The King's Jewel. The Arkenstone. Of course!

In her haste to get there, Ella tripped over her own feet, slid down a pile of gold and landed hard on her bottom. The tremor caused an avalanche and the Arkenstone got buried in a million coins.

Oh nononono, Ella whispered frantically and rushed to the spot where she had last seen it. It was only when she got there that she saw what the golden torrent had exposed.

A pile of bleached bones sat right in front of her, and in the middle of it, a grinning skull with a crown on its head.

And while Ella still stood and stared in horror, a shadow emerged from the darkness behind it, the gigantic, scaly head of a serpent. Its reptile eyes flew open and they were of the same colour as the gold around them, and just as cold.

"I am FIRE!" the dragon roared and emphasized his words with a fiery breath in her direction. "I am DEATH!"

Ella awoke with a stifled cry and to the sight of a very grim looking Bard bent over her bed.

"What happened?" she croaked out, still trapped in her nightmare. "Has the dragon come?"

If even possible, the face of the man in front of her darkened even more. "No," he replied harshly. "Or should I say- not yet? I had a suspicion concerning your friends, and you have just confirmed it."

"What? No," Ella struggled to sit up. "I don't know what you're talking about. I had a bad dream, that's all."

She looked around and saw Bard's children stand at the doorframe, their expressions frightened and oddly reproachful. She shook her head in order to shake off her sleepiness and the remnants of her nightmare. "Where are the others?"

"You tell me." Bard retorted. "Where would your dwarf friends possibly want to go in the middle of the night?"

Oh damn. Ella remembered the glance that had been exchanged between Thorin and Dwalin earlier. She knew where they were. They were going to get themselves "real" weapons. And without taking their official burglar with them, if that wasn't ironic.

"Wait," Ella blinked incredulously. "They're all gone? Kili, too?"

She couldn't believe Thorin would have taken his nephew on such a dangerous undertaking, not in the condition he was in. But like uncle, like nephew- as far as stubborness was concerned, the princes were in no way inferior to the dwarf king. Kili had probably refused to get left out, just as she would have done had she not fallen asleep-

"The city's armory-" she said with a sigh.

Bard nodded grimly. "That's what I thought. And something's telling me this isn't going to end well."

He should be proven right.

As soon as they had opened the front door it became clear from the hectic activity on the streets despite the late hour that something must have happened. And whatever it was, it wouldn't be much to her liking, that was certain.

Ella didn't wait for Bard, but stormed down the stairs and followed the townsfolk hurrying by her to what must be the town square.

And there they were, standing in the light snow that had begun to fall, once more surrounded by guards in heavy armor with their weapons directed at them.

It really should be a familiar sight by now, but it still made her heart flutter with fear for them every time.

Ella scrambled through the crowd of curious spectators towards her companions until a spear barred her way.

"Stay back!" the iron-helmed guard commanded, which made Thorin lift his head and turn it into her direction.

"What happened?" she whispered.

"Bad luck," he shrugged his broad shoulders. "Kili stumbled on the stairs and dropped the weapons he carried."

"Oh no," Ella's eyes searched Kili who looked even paler than before- and like he would fall over any second were it nor for the tip of the lance in his back.

"Why have you taken him with you anyway?" she hissed back. "He's much too sick, don't you see that? And why have you left me behind?"

Thorin's lips curled into a faint smile. "You were asleep, I didn't want to wake you," he said softly, only answering her second question.

And then the doors of the big townhouse before them swung open and out came Laketown's master, a corpulent and very irritated elderly man, accompanied by his much smaller but no more friendly looking second.

He had visibly just been jolted from his sleep- he still wore his nightclothes under a fur-trimmed coat.

"What is the meaning of this?" he barked out.

"We caught them stealing weapons, sire." one of the guards replied.

"Ah! Enemies of the state, eh?"

"A desperate bunch of merceneries if ever there was one" the spitfire next to him confirmed in a contemptous tone.

"Hold your tongue!" Dwalin hissed through clenched teeth "You do not know to whom you speak. This is no common criminal, this is Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror!"

Thorin stepped forwards and briefly laid his hand on Dwalin's shoulder in a mollifying gesture.

"We are the dwarves of Erebor," he proclaimed and his sonorous voice carried far across the marketplace. "And we have come to reclaim our homeland."

An excited murmur rose among the crowd. Those people might not remember the times when there had still been a king under the mountain, but each and everyone of them had grown up with the old tales of better times.

And Thorin was a brilliant speaker, effortlessly capable of conjuring up colourful pictures before their minds' eyes.

Of a once more prosperous city, where everyone would profit from the riches the Erebor had to offer.

And the crowd cheered him, that was, until Bard barged in to screw his performance up.

"Death!" he yelled. "That's what you'll bring upon us. Dragon fire and ruin. If you awaken that beast, it will destroy us all."

"You can listen to this nay-sayer," Thorin said, unimpressed. "But I promise you this. If we succeed, all will share in the wealth of the mountain."

An anew wave of cheers showed clearly whom Laketown's inhabitants were more inclined to believe, and Ella could hardly blame them.

They were desperate enough to grasp at any straw that promised them a better future, and even without a crown on his head, Thorin was visibly a born king, a born leader.

A man who would stand by his word no matter what.

Even with the frightening pictures of her nightmare still vivid in her head, she, too, believed every word he said. She wanted to.

And that was why she did not hesitate for a second when the master's dummy asked if someone would vouch for Thorin's character.

"I've travelled far and through great danger with these dwarves," Ella heard herself say in a firm voice. "And I know, if Thorin Oakenshield gives his word, then he will keep it."

The grateful look he gave her after her words warmed her all over. She should remember this moment often in times to come.

Bard did not give in so easily. "Have you forgotten what happened to Dale?" he asked the audience." All those who died in the firestorm? And for what purpose? The blind ambition of a mountain king! So riven by greed that he could not see beyond his own desires!"

But Laketown's master had already made up his mind on the matter.

Gold and treasures were to gain here, and he didn't even have to lift a gouty finger for it. Not to mention the fact that he was no big fan of Bard anyway and suspected him to fuel riots in his city.

"Let's not forget it was Girion, Lord of Dale and your ancestor who failed to kill the beast!" he said with ill-concealed malicious glee.

Bard stepped towards Thorin and looked down on him. "You have no right." he hissed. "No right to enter that mountain!"

The dwarf king held his angry stare with a steady eye. "I have the only right." he countered quietly, but with cold finality.

And so it was decided.

Durin's Day

By the first light of dawn the company set out to the final stage of their journey, in boats the master had generously provided.

All the dwarves now carried the weapons they had originally planned to steal, and were clad in shiny new armor (and how come the armory contained dwarve-sized battle gear? Ella couldn't help but wonder. Had Laketown prepared for a moment like this for all these years? )- all, that was, but Bofur, who had taken a cup too much and was probably still sleeping it off.

And all, as it seemed, except for Kili as well.

"Not you," Thorin said firmly when Kili got ready to enter the boat and reached out his arm to bare his way. "We must travel at speed and you would slow us down."

"What are you talking about?" Kili's look was one of utter disbelief. "Of course I'm coming with you. I'm going to be there when that door is opened. When we first look upon the halls of our fathers-"

"No Kili," Thorin said softly and laid his hand on the tousled hair that framed the prince's pale face. "Stay here. Rest. Join us when you're healed."

None of them had been willing to admit it to themselves, least of all Kili himself, but it was painfully clear that the prince was much too sick to make it to the mountain. The accident in the armory had proven it, and Ella had told Thorin so herself. Still, the devastated expression on Kili's face tore her heart apart.

And not only hers. "Uncle," Fili implored Thorin. "We grew up with the tales of that mountain, you told them to us yourself. You cannot take this away from him. I'll carry him if I must!"

But Thorin remained adamant. "One day you will be king and then you will understand," he replied stonily. "I cannot risk the fate of this quest for the sake of one dwarf. Not even one of my own kin."

His words sounded selfish and cruel, but Ella knew enough about the ways of dwarves by now to know they were not; it was the only thing he could have said to convince Kili to stay here.

Gladly as the young prince would meet his death to be with them in the great moment, he would never allow the quest to fail because of him.

Kili hung his head in defeat and Ella stepped forwards to pull him into a tight embrace. Despite the chilly morning air she could feel the feverish glow of his skin beneath his clothes.

"Thorin is right," she whispered into his ear. "You need rest to get well. This mountain's going nowhere and you'll be there with us in no time."

"But I won't will I?" Kili whispered back in a shaky and bitter voice. "I won't get better and he knows it. He's leaving me here to die."

"No!" Ella grasped his arms and made him look her in the eyes. "No Kili, that's not true! You're not going to die, you hear me? No one is."

Ella wished she was as confident as she tried to sound. She forced her lips into an encouraging smile. "We'll be together again soon, I'm sure of it," she repeated. "But until then, you need to take care of yourself.

"And I'll stay here and see to it that he will." Oin, the company's healer, was apparently much better of hearing now that he had his new trumpet. "My place is with the wounded."

"As do I," Fili announced. Ignoring Thorin's protests, he climbed out of the boat as well. "I belong with my brother."

Accompanied by the cheers of Laketown's people, Ella and the remaining nine of her companions made their way towards the Erebor.

The dwarves smiled and waved, and Ella looked at all the happpy, hopeful faces around her. By Eru, she swore silently to herself, she would do all in her power to make sure they would not be disappointed again.