Chapter Forty-Seven: This Way Comes

She peered over her shoulder at Derchaladon and sighed. He was staring at her again. She stuck her tongue out and turned away, hunkering down in her spot next to Tilda. She had been in the same spot since Bard left, twiddling her thumbs, figuratively and literally, waiting for something to happen. Anything really, at this point, would be better than nothing. Sigrid hummed on her other side, making faces at Hiron and Galon in a desperate attempt to keep them from thinking about their parents, while Bain sat moodily by his family's makeshift bed, stabbing a dull knife into a moldy piece of wood over and over again. The teenage angst was particularly high at the moment, that even Emelia, who had started to feel less like a teenager as the months being here dragged on, felt depressed. Maybe that was why Derchaladon was so unhappy. Or maybe it was because his parents saddled him with the stupidest name in creation.

"When do you think Da will be back?" Tilda stopped swirling her fingers in the small pile of mud she had found and looked at Emelia, eyes expectant, as Emelia knew anything. "He's been gone for a while."

"He'll be back soon." Emelia said, hoping it was true. She was starting to run out of believable lies to tell the kids and had started to resort to sitting in silence rather than having to tell them over and over again stuff that she didn't mean and excuses that were thin. "He'll start missing your cute face too much."

Tilda smiled and Emelia noticed that it was reaching her eyes again. It had the moment they came back. She was envious of that, of her ability to see the good of the situation when all Emelia could see was the bad. It was probably the fact that, despite her happiness at seeing food in general, it was still way too green for her tastes and her clothes didn't fit and it felt like it had been years since she was able to use the bathroom in private. Her eyes trailed down to the half-eaten apple in her hand with disdain. "Why is the elf here?"

"Ah, a question with many answers. One, he thinks your sister is a babe," Emelia glanced at Derchaladon and smirked when she noticed the incredulous look on his face. "Two, he's pretty bad at being an elf so he is trying to learn about being a human from the best of us so he can blend in better when he decides to convert. And three, the most important of all, he has nothing better to do with his time."

Tilda giggled, throwing a little bit of mud at Emelia. Even Bain, who had been doing his best to look completely disinterested, cracked a smile. Sigrid laughed as well, tickling Hiron while his brother, Galon, crawled over to Emelia, rubbing some snot on his sleeve, and shoved his way into her lap.

"Well hello to you too." She kissed the top of his head. "You come here often?"

The twins hadn't said anything since they got back. It wasn't as if they said much before, but she was starting to get worried. They should say something, anything. Even the usual, and painfully heartbreaking, question about when their parents were coming back would be better than their silence. She settled for shoving as much food as possible at them and singing to them softly. She held the apple down in front of Galon and waited patiently for him to take a bite. It made her feel better when he did.

Emelia could admit that she was a little hyper focused on them, now that she had nothing else to focus on waiting for Bard to get back. He had gone back on his word again and gone to the mountain to speak with the dwarves without her, which irked her beyond belief. It wasn't altogether surprising, however, so she didn't give it much more thought than coming up with a few choice phrases, most of which involved four letter words, to throw at him when he came back.

"I'm surprised you're still here." Sigrid said conversationally, smoothing Hiron's hair down, even though it stuck back up immediately. "We all thought the moment you could, you'd be chasing after those dwarves."

"Interesting assumption." Emelia mused, forcing Galon to eat the rest of the apple. He pouted for a moment, causing her to squeeze him. "Nope. Eat. But, yea, I wish I was wi…"

"Da!"

Emelia trailed off, looking down at the top of Galon's head. Bard was back. And he didn't look happy. He stepped into the small space and bent down, opening his arms to compensate for Tilda wrapping herself tightly around him. He picked her up and pulled her into a tight hug. Sigrid stood up and shifted Hiron to her hip, smiling at seeing her father and walked closer to him. Emelia heaved herself to her feet, legs shaking at the movement, and set Galon down so that he was leaning against her shins.

"Da, where have you been?" Bain asked, nosy as ever.

Bard didn't say anything for a moment. He glanced at Derchaladon, sizing him up, before he looked around at each of his children. His gaze finally settled on Emelia and the look on his face made her entire stomach clench up with panic.

"We need to talk."

"What happened?" Emelia asked, voice rising an octave with panic. "Is it Kili? Is he okay? Is it somebody else? Why are you being so quiet?"

"In private." Bard said pointedly. Emelia felt like she was suddenly in a very tight, very suffocating bubble. She picked Galon up and handed him off to Bain, her limbs feeling like they were pumped full of lead. Bard set Tilda down, patting her softly on top of the head. The movement was stilted and awkward. He turned to Derchaladon, ignoring the look on Emelia's face. "Watch my children."

"I was told by King Thranduil to watch Emelia."

"That isn't necessary."

"I don't take orders from you."

Emelia, feeling the unease building up in her chest to uncomfortable levels, stepped up next to Bard. "They're in the middle of town. They'll be fine. Now can we please talk? You're freaking me out."

Bard didn't say anything. He even went so far as to look away from her, like he would give too much away if he made eye contact with her too long.

"You need to calm down." Bard said and instantly saw his mistake. "I didn't mean that to sound so…"

"Condescending? Patronizing?" Emelia provided.

"I'm so sorry." Bard said quickly, almost as if he was ashamed. She didn't know what was worse; the fact that he was being purposefully evasive, or the fact that he now looked like he had somehow offended her in the worst possible way imaginable.

"Bard, what's going on?"

He grabbed her shoulder and started steering her away from the others, causing a new sort of sick feeling to settle in her stomach. Derchaladon followed them, naturally, like the amoeba that he was, sticking close to them without saying a word. Bard led her up six different flights of stairs, all of which were crumbling in varying spots. He was too distracted to notice and even when Emelia pointed it out, he merely made a noise in the back of his throat. Even that sounded guilty.

In the middle of the courtyard at the top of the stairs was a tent, larger than most, and surrounded on all sides by elves armed to the teeth. She would bet all the lint in her pocket that Thranduil was waiting inside, probably practicing his threats towards her, combing his hair, and being a general nuisance. She imagined there might be part of him that was lovely and decent, but it must be buried so deep even his own son rarely saw it, if ever.

But she could just be making unfair assumptions, once again.

She shrugged Bard's hand off her shoulder and pulled the tent flap aside, not bothering to wait to be invited inside. Bard followed after her, shutting the flap after him, despite the fact that on the other side of the large tent, which was almost blisteringly warm inside, opened up to the edge of the town of Dale and overlooked the large valley in front of Erebor. She could see the outline of the mountain looming in the distance and the desire to start off towards it flared up again.

She shook the feeling aside and turned her attention back to where she was at the moment. And at the moment, she had to deal with Thranduil again.

He turned to look at them with eyebrows raised, mouth twisted upward in a condescending smirk at seeing them both. "Bowman, you've been gone for quite some time. I take it your discussions with the would be king didn't go as planned."

"You knew what he would say."

"I had an idea." Thranduil took a seat in the wooden chair behind him. Frankly it wasn't nice enough for him and it lacked the antler décor that Emelia thought suited him best. "But, I thought I would humor you for the time being." Thranduil waved his hand flippantly.

"You've been very productive in my absence." Bard gestured around the tent, a look of judgement barely hidden on his face. It seemed all the niceties between them were lost, not that there were very many in the first place. "There are women and children who need the warmth."

"And they will have it, once we both reclaim what's in that mountain."

"Aw, that's not completely messed up in the slightest." Emelia said, truly amazed at him. "Like, I think I saw some kittens you haven't kicked yet."

"Ah, you're here as well Emelia. Good."

"You noticed me the moment I walked in the tent, don't pretend otherwise for dramatic effect." Emelia snapped, which caused Thranduil to smirk.

"I never do anything for dramatic effect."

"You're right, you're just dramatic."

"You're still sticking your foot directly in your mouth every time you speak. I would watch that mouth of yours, Miss Montgomery. I've had prisoners and criminals executed for less."

"Well it's a good thing I'm neither a prisoner nor a criminal."

"I think both of you are a bit beyond this petty squabbling." Emelia turned around at the sound of the voice. Despite the slight humor in his voice, Gandalf looked worse than Emelia had ever seen him. His face was covered in bruises and cuts and he leaned more heavily on his staff as he entered the tent. Emelia wasn't sure how she should greet him. She sort of wanted to hug him, but that would be weird, so she settled for waving her hand awkwardly and smiling at seeing him again after so months. Even though he looked haggard he still smiled back.

"Mithrandir, I heard you were skulking around here. I'm surprised it took you so long to find me."

"You certainly made it easy for him to find you. Did you know that there are children around here that are probably experiencing frostbite?" Emelia snapped, earning a reproachful look from both Bard and Gandalf. "Sorry, just thought it needed to be said. I'll be quiet now."

"Wonderful. Although, I'm entirely unsure of why you're even here." Thranduil stood up, pulling his sleeves back.

"Alright, you know what…"

Emelia was cut off by a hand covering her mouth. Bard squeezed her shoulder and leaned down, keeping his hand firmly in place. "This isn't going to help anyone." She mumbled inaudibly in response, although Bard seemed to understand her. "No, you can't."

She mumbled again angrily, narrowing her eyes at Thranduil who narrowed his back. It was all very immature. Bard waited to see if she would say anything else. She shoved his hand off her face, but didn't try and fight it when he placed himself between her and the elf king.

"This squabbling solves nothing." Gandalf gave her a very pointed look, making her feel scolded. He also gave the look to Thranduil, for good measure, which caused Emelia to smirk at the elf from her place behind Bard. "As we speak our enemy is moving against us. Dol Guldur has been emptied."

"What do you mean?" Bard asked, walking closer to Gandalf, leaving Emelia exposed.

"Apparently your dealings with wizards has been limited. Allow me to illuminate. They are like winter thunder on a wild wind, rolling in from a distance, breaking hard in alarm." Thranduil poured a drink for himself before handing one to Bard. Emelia shot him a look for even accepting it, but she wasn't overly surprised. It was probably the good stuff. "But sometimes that storm is nothing more than a little bit of hot air."

"You probably shouldn't make someone trying to help you sound like a fart."

"Thank you, Emelia." Gandalf said, and she wasn't sure if he was being sarcastic.

"Your welcome." She said, maintaining eye contact with Thranduil when he turned his angry gaze on her.

"There are armies of orcs marching for that mountain. They were bred for war."

"Why now?"

"The mountain is vulnerable. Our enemy sees that. We forced his hand when the company of Thorin Oakenshield set out to reclaim Erebor." Gandalf walked out of the tent and Emelia assumed they were all supposed to follow. Thranduil raised an eyebrow, seemingly put out, and glided out after him. Emelia got the distinct impression that he was always put out by something. "They were never meant to reach Erebor. Azog was sent to kill them in order to gain control of the mountain. They're coming for it and they will kill all who stand in their way."

"Where are these armies, Mithrandir?" Thranduil asked. Even though the mocking tone was still there, Emelia could see that fear was bubbling up, expertly hidden beneath the surface, masked well enough that most wouldn't be able to see it. Emelia wasn't an expert at a lot of things, mostly crying and talking too much, but she knew fear. She knew how it felt, burning and biting, how it made the back of her mouth taste like metal and her hands feel tight and bloated. She could see it in his eyes and for a moment she felt something other than dislike for the elf king.

"If they're coming here, we have to leave." Emelia said, feeling very much like she was out of her depth. No one else seemed willing to speak, so she blurted it all out without really thinking. All three of them turned to look at her and she felt very stupid for a moment, as if she was five minutes behind them and about a million times more naïve, before she decided that she was right. She cleared her throat and rolled her shoulders, drawing herself up to her full very less than impressive height. "I mean, if they're going towards the mountain, wouldn't that mean everyone else here is in danger?"

"I know your kinship with the dwarves. Do not think I am deaf to the whispers, that I don't know how closely you are tied to Thorin and his horde of miscreants." Thranduil completely ignored her and turned to look at Gandalf instead.

"What are you proposing?" Bard asked, causing Emelia to look over at him with her mouth agape. "That we march on the mountain and break down the door?"

"That's exactly what I'm suggesting. There's only thirteen of them, after all. My army will leave at dawn after next, I suggest you prepare your men as well, if you wish to secure your portion of the treasure."

Thranduil turned on his heel and walked down the steps, leaving the other three staring after him. He wanted that to happen, Emelia was sure. She turned back to look at Bard and Gandalf, unsure of what just happened. "I'm sorry, I must have just had a small stroke, because I think Thranduil just completely ignored the fact that orcs are coming this way, right now, in favor of a bit of bling."

"Yes, well…"

"How is he even a king?"

Bard rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. "He's thinking of his own people."

"That's not an excuse." Emelia said absentmindedly, eyeing Bard. He had that odd look again. "What's up with you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You've got this look on your face."

"A look?"

"A look. Plus you should be arguing more. Or I don't know, insisting on evacuating."

"We have nowhere to go."

"Fair." Emelia admitted, realizing that he was right. "I guess, we could see if there's room in the mountain. Of course, that would mean elves, men, and dwarves under one roof." She scuffed her boot against a nearby chunk of rubble, turning away from Gandalf and Bard as she continued to speak, voice getting lower and lower as she started muttering to herself. "That sounds like the start of a bad joke. But, if Gandalf is right, not that I'm doubting you, that means orcs will be coming here and I don't think they'll distinguish between dwarves and humans." She turned back around, still speaking softly, and felt her chest deflate almost when she noticed that Bard was gone. Gandalf was still standing there, smiling at her with an almost sad quality. "He left?"

"I'm afraid so."

"That's just rude. Somethings off about him. You noticed it right?" Emelia huffed, collapsing onto a rock, pulling her legs up underneath her. "You're being serious about the orcs?"

"What motivation would I have for lying, Emelia Kinsington Montgomery?"

"Everybody seems to have a motivation lately, I figured you had one as well. Sorry."

"Think nothing of it." Gandalf walked over sat down next to her, turning his body to look at the mountain. "Why are you here?"

"My life has been a series of really cruel jokes. I got separated from them when Smaug attacked, and I haven't found a way to get back to them." She looked up at the back of his head, noticed a bit of blood and rubble in his grey hair, before she stood up. "What happened to you?"

"More than I can fit into a singular conversation, I assure you."

"That's how you found out about the orcs." She walked closer to the edge of the crumbling overlook, blinking rapidly as the wind picked up. When Gandalf didn't answer her, she glanced over her shoulder and noticed he was smirking at her. "What?"

"You are much cleverer than I think even you give yourself credit for."

"Thanks, I think."

"It is most certainly a compliment." Gandalf stood up, laboring for a moment, and came to stand next to her.

It was sort of peaceful for a moment and Emelia couldn't help but glance up and him. It had been months since she had seen him and she remembered the last time he had said he might know something about her being here in the first place and if there was a way to get back. She wanted to ask him again, but somehow the moment didn't seem right. Orcs coming, and whatnot. It was hardly an appropriate time to be thinking about herself. Plus, she wasn't sure if she really wanted to know.

That thought made her uncomfortable, so she changed the subject quickly and ungracefully. "When will the orcs be here?"

"I cannot express how refreshing it is to have someone actually listen to my council and take it seriously."

"What can I say, Gandy, I'm just full of surprises." She realized half a moment too late. "Sorry, Gandalf. I don't even think Gandy really suits you, it just sort of came out."

"Quite understandable. I noticed your proclivity for pet names when we first met."

"We have to warn them, you know. About everything."

"And you intend to do it."

"That's a lot of pressure." Emelia let out a low whistle and turned, unsure of what she wanted to look at. Erebor or Gandalf; they both came with their positives and negatives. For one thing, they both made her nervous. "But if no one else will, I guess I could do it."

This was all getting much bigger than she ever anticipated. She imagined it would be simple to get Erebor back, very stupid of her, and once they were there that would be the end of it. She was obviously quite stupid back then. She rang her hands together nervously, looking everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

"I have complete faith that you will perform it admirably."

"Should I go then?"

"You're very peculiar."

"I've been told." Emelia felt uncomfortable with the way he was scrutinizing her. "The others figured it out ages ago."

"Yes, well, I think they might have overlooked something." Gandalf smiled at her even brighter, a twinkle in his eyes that wasn't there before.

"What's that?"

"We should speak to Bard." Gandalf gave her one last smile before he turned around and walked down the steps, using the wall to his left as a support. Emelia's eyebrows drew together in a line as she stared after him. He was just plain weird, charming, but very, very weird. He also didn't finish his sentences, so he had that going for him. When she didn't follow him, he turned around and looked up at her. "Are you going to ruminate all night?"

"Yes, no. I'm coming." She sprinted down the stairs, tripping over her own feet and practically fell down on her face. She recovered, stumbling forward awkwardly before she managed to right herself. She stood there, very well aware of all the elves and men now watching her. Smoothing her hair down, she cracked a small smile and tried not to look like she was dying inside from all the embarrassment. "Bet you didn't see that coming. I'll be here all week."

"A constant surprise." Gandalf called Bard's attention over to them, winking at Emelia while simultaneously holding his hand up to his mouth that their particular conversation was done, for the time being.

"You're not going to walk away this time?" Emelia asked, glaring at him pointedly.

"Emelia, I..."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Emelia finally snapped, causing Bard to raise his eyebrows. "Walking away while w were still in the middle of conversation is rude. Tell me whats going on with you."

"Emelia?"

"What?" It took her half a moment to realize that it was neither Gandalf nor Bard who had said her name. She turned sideways and froze.

Bilbo looked insane. Or delirious. Or like he was suffering from some sort of head trauma. "Emelia?"

Emelia glanced up at Gandalf, wondering if he was seeing the same look of amazement as she was. She didn't think she was that special, but she didn't want to say anything just in case Bilbo was having some sort of psychotic episode. She did want to hug him however, so she held out her arms and smiled at him. When he didn't immediately respond with the enthusiasm she thought was necessary, she scowled. "Do I have something on my face?"

"How…what…?" Bilbo couldn't get a word out, making Emelia even more concerned. She took a few stops towards him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, hoping that the physical contact with him would break him out of his trance like state. Really, he was starting to concern her.

"Why're you stuttering?" He didn't hug her back. "If you don't start talking I'm going to do something really weird. Like spit in your ear or lick your face."

"I am no…" Bilbo leveled his voice. "I'm not. I'm just a bit confused."

"About what?"

"Did you just threaten to lick my face?"

"Or spit in your ear. I'm not partial either way."

"You're supposed to be dead."

Emelia blinked. "What?"

"You. You're supposed to be dead."

She stared at him for a moment, eyes searching his face for some sign that he was joking. When his face didn't move, not even a twitch, she became concerned. She brought her right hand up to his face and touched his cheek. "Are you feeling alright? Seeing double? Do you have an odd tingling sensation in your butt? You're not feverish."

"Emelia, you were dead."

"Obviously not." She laughed and looked up at Gandalf, as if to ask if he was witnessing the same thing she was. He looked impassive, although there was confusion in his eyes. "Unless I'm a ghost and this is all just a figment of your imagination."

"That's not funny."

"Why not?" Emelia's hand fell off his face, shaking a bit as it went.

Bilbo didn't answer her. He turned to Bard, who had tried to retreat into Thranduil's tent, with a murderous look on his face that Emelia was quite impressed with. He pushed her out of the way, causing her to try and protest. He cut her off, voice seething and hands clenched into fists at his side. "You told us she was dead."

That was a new one.

"What are you talking about?" Emelia stepped forward, touching his arm. "Why would that even come up in conversation? I've been here the whol…" She trailed off, finally putting two and two together after an embarrassingly long time. She looked up at Bard, unsure of whether or not she should cry or scream. Maybe both. Both was good. "You didn't."

Bard, doing an excellent job of maintaining eye contact under Emelia's gaze, held his arms out in a placating way that caused her to scoff. "I thought Thorin might be more inclined to help us if he thought his actions about the death of one of his companions."

Emelia didn't know how reached out to stop her from throwing herself at Bard. She shoved her elbow into their side, catching something rock solid. She was practically clawing at him, screaming every obscenity she could think of and some she made up on the spot, causing everyone in the general vicinity to look over them with their mouths open and eyebrows raised.

"Emelia stop." So it was Bilbo holding her. She didn't even feel bad for driving her foot into his shin.

"You slimy son of bitch!" Emelia tried to push Bilbo aside, just to get a better shot at Bard, but was pulled back roughly by her waist. Bard, and Bilbo for that matter, were lucky her energy level was so low and her protein intake was laughable at best. "I'm going to kill you! You foul, pussing, loathsome, backstabbing little crapweasel. Is everyone around here completely mental?"

"Emelia, if you'll allow me to explain."

She stood still for a moment, causing Bard to visibly relax, before she launched herself at him again, twisting out of Bilbo's arms, fists flying at every inch of Bard she could reach. She must look like a crazy person, screaming and crying and hitting, but she didn't care. Bard allowed her a few solid hits, including one that landed on his jaw with a loud smack, before he finally wrapped his arms around her and pinned her flailing limbs to her side so she couldn't hit him anymore. "I'm not a fucking chess piece that you can push around when it suits you. My death is not a bargaining chip."

She tried to dislodge one of her arms, letting out a loud groan at Bard not letting her go, before she started kicking haphazardly, energy diving with each passing moment. She kicked twice more before giving up. Her hands stung and she noticed, as she looked down to avoid seeing even a part of Bard, that the knuckles were split.

"Emelia, listen to me. You need to calm down." Emelia gave Bilbo a look that he clearly understood to mean he might get punched next.

"What a charming display of human aggression." Thranduil said, obviously growing tired of watching them fighting. Emelia had almost forgotten he was there, which was a feat considering he never let anyone say anything without making a sassy comment, or like a thousand.

She hated him in that moment.

"I'll rip your ey…" Bard shoved his hand over her mouth, wrapping his other arm around her body to keep her from hitting him, or anyone else.

"This must be the Halfling that stole from my guards." Thranduil said, seeming very unhappy to see so many people in his tent uninvited. He shot a look at Emelia, making her want to hit him even more. She could feel herself shaking, hands clenched into fists so tightly she felt blood dripping down her fingers and onto the stone.

Bilbo glanced at her before he looked at Thranduil, hands fidgeting nervously at his sides. "Yes, sorry about that. A bit necessary, you understand."

"I assure you, I do not."

Emelia scoffed, squirming her way out of Bard's grasp, as Bilbo took a step further into the tent. "Get off me." She hissed, using all of her willpower to keep from laying into him again.

"I came to bring you this." Bilbo reached into his coat, digging around for a moment, and pulled out a small bundle. He placed it on Thranduil's table, a look of regret on his face that Emelia could see he had to fight to keep from controlling him fully. He unfolded it and thought she saw his chest visibly constrict, even underneath all of his clothes. It was as if he was trying to draw in a deep breathe but his lungs had other plans.

The rest of the tent was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. "The Arkenstone?"

"Worth a king's ransom." Bard said, breathing out quickly. "This isn't yours to give."

"I took it as my share of the treasure." Bilbo said, hands still twitching. Emelia knew that it was bad that he had it, even without really understanding what she was looking at or why it was important. "And now I'm giving it to you."

Definitely not good.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Yea, Bilbo, why are you doing this?" Emelia asked, trying to get him to look at her. He hadn't since Thranduil had interrupted her little WWE Smackdown with Bard. Maybe she scared him. She supposed she had looked a little insane.

"It's not for you." Bilbo said, glancing at Emelia despite his best efforts. "Especially not after what you did to Emelia. I'm doing it for them. I know they can be disagreeable at the best of times, but they're good and decent and at this moment, they're in need of a little help. I would save them if I can."

"And you think this will save them?"

"From themselves, I do. Thorin values that stone above everything else. In exchange, I think he will give you whatever you ask for."

"This just might work." Bard sounded like he actually meant it and there was a bit of a smile on his face, although it was almost unperceivable. Emelia snorted again, louder this time. She thought she was conveying her emotions well enough with just snorts. That and a constant stream of steadily increasing livid glares at Bard.

"Well it better, considering you already exhausted your other options of faking peoples' death."

"Emelia, I'm…"

"If you're going to say sorry again, I don't want to hear it. What I want is for you to never speak to me again." She decided, in that moment, that it was stupid that she was still standing in the tent. She turned and marched out, head held high, shoulders back. She was halfway out before she turned back around and walked back in and grabbed Bilbo roughly by the shoulder, pulling her with him. "We need to talk."

Bilbo smartly declined to protest.

Emelia walked almost as far as she could get on the stone overhang before she stopped, hand firmly clenched around Bilbo's shirt sleeve. She struggled for a moment with what to say. Part of her wanted to yell more, but the other part wanted to cry. She was more hurt than angry, she realized, and she didn't quite know how to express that beyond hitting something. She breathed deeply for a moment, chest achy and arms limp by her sides, before she opened her mouth, words fighting to come out. She snapped it shut again.

"You're coming with me." Bilbo said when he saw her struggling for words, voice quiet enough that Emelia didn't think even the elves would be able to hear her. They tended to overhear everything. She thought they would make the best spies in the world, if they weren't too distracted by looking at themselves in the mirror.

"You aren't the only one who thinks I'm dead?"

"Bard told them all, yes."

"Well isn't that just shitty." Bilbo shifted uncomfortably in his spot, probably noticing her hands clenching and unclenching at her side. She could feel the pain coming back, but she didn't pay it much mind. "How did they take it?"

"Not good."

"That's a bit like wanting to go to your own funeral isn't it, just to see what people think of you?"

"A bit."

She bit her lip and looked up at the sky, feeling tears pricking her eyes once again. She reached up a hand and wiped them away furiously, scrubbing her cheeks until they felt raw. She wouldn't cry because of something Bard did. Her tears were better used on someone, something else. "Bilbo, I'm so terribly sorry."

"For what exactly."

"I don't know." She admitted, looking over at him. "It just feels like the right thing to say."

"How did you get separated?" Bilbo asked, his voice even and cautious. "If you don't mind me asking."

"I don't. I was trying to help Tilda, Bard's daughter, and I found two other little boys. I couldn't leave them, obviously, so I got caught up trying to get them to shore and by the time we found our way back to camp, the dwarves were already gone."

"You were saving three lives?"

"Not really. They helped." Emelia said. "They're fine, I'm fine, Bard's a bastard."

Bilbo laughed lightly and Emelia found she couldn't help but giggle a little as well. It was so tragically awful, it was funny. And then she couldn't stop laughing. It bubbled up as a series of chuckles before it grew louder and more boisterous. "It's all so awful. And it's not funny." She couldn't seem to control it. She covered her mouth, trying to push down the laughs, only to cause a chocking sound instead. "This is really bad, Bilbo. Really, really bad."

"And what pray tell, is so amusing, Emelia?" She couldn't even stop laughing when Gandalf walked up to them. "Surely not what just happened with Bard?"

Obviously he disapproved of her methods.

"Nothing." Bilbo tried to help her, but even he couldn't cover up the sound of her incessant chortling. "I think it's exhaustion."

"Then the both of you should get some sleep."

"No." Emelia said, laughter finally dying down enough for her to say something. "We're going to Erebor."

"Not tonight."

"They all think I'm dead, I just punched Bard repeatedly, and there are orcs coming. I'm going to that mountain and Bilbo's coming with me. You just said someone needs to warn them." Emelia said forcefully. "Just imagine all of that in a respectful tone, of course."

It was now Bilbo's turn to stare at her with his mouth open. "What she said."

"It isn't safe for you, Bilbo, and not you either Emelia, now that you know Bilbo stole the Arkenstone." Gandalf said, being the literal needle to her balloon. "Stay you here tonight and we'll talk about it more in the morning. You there." Gandalf called over to a man skulking around and Emelia was upset to see that it was Alfrid. "Find them food, water, and a place to sleep next to a fire."

"I really don't…"

"No arguments. We'll speak more in the morning."

Alfrid's mouth was hanging open, the desire to protest clearly written all over his face. Gandalf stood in his spot and gestured with his arm, obviously intent on watching them to make sure they were following his instructions. Alfrid rolled his eyes and started walking down a side path, grumbling to himself. "Come on!"

"Like that'll make us move any faster." Emelia said, resentment at the entire situation building up.

"We should follow him." Bilbo said quietly, threading his arm through hers.

"We're seriously staying here? We have to warn them. Orcs are coming this way."

"Of course we do."

"So why are we following…"

"We'll leave as soon as he isn't looking." Bilbo said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Emelia smirked, pulling him closer, keeping her gaze on the back of Alfrid's head. "You evil little genius."

"I have moments."

"You know what this means right?"

"No, I don't."

"Coming to theaters this summer, Bacon and Eggs: The Sequel. I've heard it'll be a real hit with families big and small."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Bilbo." Emelia whined a little too loudly, pulling on his arm. Alfrid glanced back at them, mouth curling. Emelia glowered at him and squeezed Bilbo's forearm. "Humor me. I'm tired of being pushed around like I don't matter. I saved his daughter's life, and obviously I would do it again, but that's how he treats me, like the only thing about me that's important is the fact that I'm tangentially related to the Thorin. Its bullshit and I'm not doing it anymore. I matter and my opinions matter and I'm not going to let it happen anymore. I'm not going to let any of this happen. So I need you to humor me, for a little while, because all of this has just gotten really serious and I need to laugh about something to keep from crying. Because I'm really freaking tired and someone I just thought was my friend tried to exploit me like practically everyone else I've met and I miss Kili. That sounds pathetic but I don't care. The way time works here just confuses me also. Like one minute Bard was leaving to go talk to the dwarves and he was gone for hours and then he comes back and its like nothing has changed, except Thranduil has apparently had time to build a little tent city like so homeless transient living on skid row. And I've just had more conversations where people walk in and out in not logical order than ever before in my entire life. So Play along for just a little bit because I really need it after the shit stain week I've had."

"Fine. Yes, alright, Bacon and Eggs: The Sequel."

"Thank you. I'm sorry for freaking out on you."

"You're important, Emelia. You should know that." Bilbo placed a hand on her arm. "Don't let Bard or anyone else make you think you're not. We can change this, all of it and I know I can't do it without you."

Sorry for the extra bit of cussing. Emelia's had a rough week, obviously.

I hope everybody is enjoying their summer so far. I know I am. These last two chapters went together, in case you guys didn't notice the titles. I think all of this was a really important culmination for Emelia to realize that her voice, her agency matters and that she has to power to change things (cough cough, wink wink)

Thank you all so much for the reviews! They've been truly inspiring. I know you're all getting quite tired of them being apart, but it is important for the progression of the story in order for Emelia to have the power to change things. She needed to form the bond with those in Lake-town in order to care enough about them to try and save them, as well as realize that she is capable of forming her own opinions away from the dwarves. I think she needed this time to decide, so thank you all for sticking through this heavy Emelia section.

Gimli, Legolas, and Wenny are back next chapter! (with added bonus of Eldarion, Aragorn, and Arwen) Also, all the reunions! It will be happy, I promise!

REVIEW! Being so close to 800 is mind boggling!