Chapter Five: Pleases and Thank You's

Bard had not expected to see Bluebell again after that last night. He certainly hadn't expected to find her waiting outside his house still wearing Tilda's nightgown, with Sigrid's shawl draped around her shoulders. She looked up at him hesitantly, through downcast eyelashes.

Clutching the shawl tightly, she murmured. "Hello, Bard. Good morning."

A slight scoff escaped Bard's lips. This was not a morning he would consider to be good. To his surprise and confusion, though, Bluebell started to giggle at his reaction to his words. Bard stared wordlessly at her in confusion for a moment. "I seem to be missing to something here."

Bluebell smiled apologetically. "Sorry, it's just saying good morning is what got me into this mess in the first place. If I had just done the sensible hobbit-like thing and ran back into my smial without bothering with social niceties, I probably wouldn't even be here to have this awkward conversation."

Bard felt himself softening towards her again. Despite being a part of Thorin Oakenshield's Valor forsaken quest, she was not a dwarf, nor was she someone who would've understood the vaster implications of the undertaking. She was still Bluebell, the woman (or hobbitess maybe he wasn't quite sure what hobbit females called themselves) who had accepted his help gratefully and in return did her best to comfort the hearts of both his children and himself. By some twist of luck or fate she had got roped into this quest, but he had no doubt it had been with motives as selfless as any she had revealed since he met her.

Bard quirked an eyebrow at her, smiling gently to try to reassure her. "Now that sounds like a story. Why don't you come inside and you can tell me us all about it. I'm sure my children would be interested in just how you wound up so far from home."

Bluebell's shoulders relaxed, and the utter trust and relief in her eyes made him positive that he had made the right decision. She was not someone who would ever intentionally put someone in harm's way. "I'd like that a lot."

Taking her hand, Bard assisted her up the tall steps. He wondered absently how she had managed them last night when she had disobeyed his instructions and raced after him to the town square. If somehow the dwarves succeeded safely or gave up before it was too late and Bluebell decided to stick around, adding more slats wouldn't be a bad idea. That way Bluebell would have less barriers to visiting. Bard shook the thought from his head. That was a big if.

Sigrid looked up from the basin of dishes she was washing as they entered. Her eyes lit up as she dropped the pewter mug she was holding back in the water. "Bluebell!" Sigrid moved excitedly towards the hobbitess, stooping down to embrace her. "I hadn't thought we'd see you again, not after last night."

Tilda, apparently having heard the commotion, came walking through the doorway from the other room, dragging a more reluctant Bain behind her. "Miss Bluebell, are you here to stay?" she asked eagerly. "Instead of going after that nasty dragon?"

Bluebell smiled almost bitterly. "I'm sorry, Tilda, but I can't leave them. Even if I hadn't signed a contract, I'm probably the member of the company with the best chance against the dragon, at least if Gandalf is to be believed." Bluebell muttered the last bit about Gandalf, but they all heard.

Bard crossed his arms. "Gandalf? Is he the man who's responsible for sending you on this—" the only right descriptions weren't fit for present company, "—quest?"

Bluebell smiled weakly. "Gandalf is a wizard—"

"A wizard?" Tilda's eyes widened.

Bluebell's patted Tilda's hand. "Yes dear, he was, you might say, an old family friend. He was a good friend of my late husband's grandfather. Earlier this year he came back for the first time since Bilbo and I were children. He wanted a hobbit to go with him and the dwarves on their quest—"

"If I may ask, where is he now, then?" Bard queried. It seemed strange that he was not with them now that they were nearing the most dangerous part of their journey.

Bluebell frowned, looking almost annoyed. He wondered if he had overstepped. "No, I don't mind you asking. He was with us for most of the journey, but some sort of business came up for him outside Mirkwood, and we had to part ways. He told us to wait for his return before going inside the mountain."

Bard scoffed. "What kind of business could possibly be more important than keeping a group of reckless, greedy dwarves, don't doom themselves, you, and Laketown?"

"Bard." Bluebell's voice was low and even, but still dangerous, surprising from a woman of her stature from a neighborhood as peaceful as she had described. Bard was suddenly of the grief that had shaped her, and wondered just what her journey to Laketown had been like to sharpen her.

"Children, would you mind giving us a moment to talk?" Sigrid nodded with a concerned frown, and ushered her younger siblings downstairs to give a bit of privacy.

Once they were gone, Bard sighed. "I'm sorry, I didn't invite you in to fight."

"Why did you, then? To convince me to stay? To stop me from following reckless, greedy dwarves to my doom?" Bluebell looked down at her hands, refusing to look at him.

"Am I wrong to wish I could?" Bard brushed a curl back from her face gently as he spoke, shamelessly trying to manipulate her. He didn't imagine the shudder he saw pass through her at the contact. Not for the first time he imagined a future without dwarves or dragons or wizards. One where he and she could enjoy simple companionship with only ghosts to contend with, not a living, breathing dragon. "Am I wrong to wish you could stay here, safe, unharmed, far from a fire-breathing dragon with none but the dwarves who left you alone last night to protect you."

Blue eyes flashed at him. "You can't protect me, Bard. If I don't go, there is no doubt that they will wake Smaug. I have a chance at least."

Bard closed his eyes against her beautiful fury. It was far too easy to imagine her sparks clashing with a dragon's… and losing. "Why do you care so much about this? I saw how your so called leader treated you. Why are you wiling to risk your life for him?"

Bluebell stilled. "I'm not risking my life for him." She took a large breath before continuing. "I'm risking my life for every man, woman, and child who has grown up in Smaug's shadow. Breathing in cold, damp air that slowly drains the life from their breath. Depending not not he bounty of the earth, but fish from the lake and the generosity of a corrupted elf king. Living in constant fear that the dragon will wake and remember, remember the few that eked out a survival in spite of his wrath." Bluebell bit out a harsh, broken laugh. "Is it any wonder that no one listened to you when you warned them against Thorin. For the first time in decades, your town has some hope of being freed. I was willing to risk my life to give the dwarves a home back, but now I am determined to give up my life if means you and yours can grow up in any portion of the peace and safety I had in the Shire."

Bard coughed rather than let a sob escape him. How was it possible for her to be so selfless, so beautiful? She hardly knew them but spoke of their experience with such passion and fervor. He wished he could convince her she was wrong, convince her that Laketown would be fine without her. But she was right. The people of Laketown were never truly safe, not while sickness robbed them of people like his wife, not when children went hungry, not as long as the threat of dragon fire dogged their every day. Weakly, he pleaded, "Please don't." She pulled him to his knees to cup his cheek, and he held back a sob as he leaned into the contact. "Please don't go. Forget about us, go back to your Shire where you're safe."

Bluebell smiled wanly at him in response. "I can't."

That was the problem, Bard thought darkly. She couldn't leave them, forget about their suffering. It was also probably why he was in danger of falling in love with her, this hobbit from the Shire with kind eyes that matched her name and soft brown curls that bounced around her shoulders as she moved and wrapped around his fingers as he brushed them back to lay a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"Please," he breathed, "be careful." He stroked her hair. "I do not trust these dwarves you travel with." He sighed. "I do trust you, however."

Bluebell smiled up at him before leaning up to brush her lips against his cheek. "Thank you."

Bard tried hard to imprint the feeling of her lips into his memory. It was all too easy to believe it would be the last he would feel of them.