Terribly sorry for the long hiatus. Moved to a new country. Thank you for your continued readership and support. Hope you enjoy the update. It is from yet another character's perspective, as well as a regular.

Fili whirled around, rolling the approaching figure under him, and unsheathed his dagger. Bright eyes filled with confusion and a soft womanly body under him, alerted Fili that this was no Orc scout. Immediately, he sheathed his dagger and pulled himself off Bard's eldest daughter, Sigrid, his face aflame with embarrassment.

"I did not mean to frighten you."

"I did not mean to startle you."

They spoke at once as Sigrid sat up and began dusting herself off and Fili crouched off to her side. As their hushed voices died away, they gave each other sheepish smiles. Fili looked over Sigrid's shoulder and frowned, just noticing that her ever present shadow Tilda was not with her. Bain either.

"What are you doing out here alone?"

After a moment Sigrid shrugged, "I was looking for you."

"Oh," Fili raised an eyebrow, "why?"

"Dinner is ready." Fili ignored the tinge of disappointment that it had not been for some other reason and kept his attention on her words. "Kili sent me to fetch you since he had to help Tauriel move Edwin and Tilda is helping Katun serve up the food. Da is still with the council at the great hall." Sigrid hadn't moved to stand up yet but stayed sitting on the dusty cobblestone alleyway Fili had been sitting in.

Fili looked from her form back out towards the darkened street in front of them when he heard footsteps. He signaled for Sigrid to shift closer to the wall, joining him on the stoop. She quickly did so, just settling herself as two men walked by. They were guard replacements, Fili noted, and his shoulders relaxed. He heard Sigrid sigh out her relief behind him. He and Kili had taken it upon themselves to keep watch of the house from various points of entrance throughout the day and night. While Bain was eager and capable, he lacked the proper training, and their father was too busy with the war council. Though the city had its guard towers, the attacks on Laketown before was evidence enough to the dwarves that Orcs could slip and out undetected. Though they had not wished their present situation upon themselves, makeshift guardians of a strange human family, they would not allow that to dissuade them from doing the honorable thing. This family was obviously a good family, the father a reasonable man, and the children in need of protection. The fact that Alyse had known the human woman, Katun, had further assuaged any fears that these people were not genuine for, although Alyse was a fireball to contend with, would not abide by anyone false.

"Thank you." Sigrid's soft voice drew his attention back and at his look she hurried on. "For helping us, you know. Although you didn't choose to stay behind of your own accord, not really at least, you and your brother have done more than most towards helping us. That's not say that others wouldn't also help but, well, you and Kili, being the only dwarves, and the people of Laketown not having a lot of dealings with dwarves, well we didn't know what to expect. And your uncle wasn't the most pleasant of fellows and yet you," Sigrid put a hand to her mouth and gasped, "I'm so sorry. I'm babbling. And I didn't mean to imply that your uncle is anything but honorable."

Fili chuckled and instead of standing up, resettled himself beside her, careful not to touch her but still very aware of her presence beside him. It was a welcome presence. He waved away Sigrid's apology, "I know my uncle can be surely and obstinate so there's no need to apologize. And while I never knew what it was like to live in Erebor and deal with the men of Dale, I grew up on stories enough to understand why folks around here might not take too cordially to myself or my brother." Fili studied Sigrid carefully. "Neither you nor your family seems to take cause towards us, though. Why is that? I have not met a man, or woman, before who'd not felt some hesitation in association with us."

"I don't know. Perhaps it's because our Da has always been a type of outsider in town, respected enough but never warmly embraced. We grew up recognizing the difference between him and others. Also, what I remember of our mother, and from what Da has told us, she was always a kind and tolerant woman, not given to suspicions or greed. And Da always taught us to measure a man by his deeds not his words." Sigrid seemed to shiver, and Fili noticed the night breeze had picked up. "And both you and your brother have done well by us. You haven't spoken much of course, and sometimes I don't understand what you're saying when you do, but from what I've seen and heard thus far you could be well-measured." She shivered again and ducked her head, as if embarrassed by her honesty.

Fili unclipped his cloak and without preamble leaned over and set about draping it over her shoulders. Her head snapped up in surprise and Fili's movements faltered when their noses bumped. He hadn't meant to lean so close but now that he had he didn't regret it. He had never been this close to a human woman before and, if he was completely honest with himself, never with a dwarf woman either. When he inhaled he could smell a faint floral scent, one unique to soaps, and he knew that it was Sigrid. It was pleasant. Though the moonlight was bright, and he could see the features of her face clearly, including the freckles on her nose, he could not clearly see her eye color—and her eyes had been something he'd first noticed about her. Her breath hitched and in his peripheral vision he saw her hands clench together in her lap, as if she were trying to hold herself back from something.

"What are you doing?" as she whispered, her warm breath fanned across his face and his eyes drew down over her facial features to rest momentarily upon the lines of her questioning lips.

Fili cleared his throat and resumed his movements, pulling his gaze away from her face and instead focusing it upon his hands as they smoothed out the cloak. "You were shivering. Dwarves do not get cold easily and I found the cloak cumbersome." He reached under her neck and clasped the cloak together. He momentarily wished there were more clasps to fiddle with, if only to remain this close to her longer, but he'd lingered longer than was necessary already and with an inward sigh he retreated. Though he made a show of readjusting his tunic and his belt, he could see her grab hold of the cloak as she rolled her shoulders, as if to pull it more securely around her. Something inside him felt satisfied at the image of her wearing his cloak, something he'd not really felt before outside of when he'd won a race against his brother or his mother had praised him in public. It was strange that he'd feel something like that at such a simple image.

"Thank you." She muttered from near buried under its material.

Fili smiled before he stood, "I think we should head back to house before Katun sends out Tilda to find both you and me." He held out his hand to her. When she didn't immediately reach for it he momentarily kicked himself, not knowing if it was customary in her culture for a man to offer a woman a hand up or not—and yet he did remember she'd accepted his help earlier that day without an issue. Her warm hand gripping his, seconds later, had him startled back and his smile grew as he tugged her to her feet. He didn't immediately let go once she stood and he didn't feel her tugging to be set free from his grasp either; this knowledge again made that area of satisfaction inside him warm.

"Are you two done holding hands already?" They both jerked, launching themselves in opposite directions, when Tilda's voice carried down the alleyway towards them. "Dinner is getting cold."

"I wasn't-"

"He wasn't-"

They spoke at the same time but Tilda's snort halted their efforts of explanation. Fili watched as Sigrid's shoulder's slumped and she hurried ahead of him back towards the house. He hid his smile as he followed after her. While they hadn't been holding hands precisely as Tilda had alluded to, the momentarily touch had been pleasant. When he entered the house Kili immediately noticed his smile and gave him a questioning look, having already noticed Sigrid coming in with his cloak on. Fili shrugged as he joined the rest at the table.

They'd only just begun the meal when Bard came in. Fili exchanged a look with Kili and his brother nodded; he too felt the urgency in Bard's movements as he made himself a plate of food and sat down between Katun and Bain.

"What is it, Da?" Sigrid asked first.

"Your friend Bilbo," Bard looked between Fili and Kili, "brought us the Arkenstone," Fili stiffened and he knew he brother did as well but Bard held up a hand to keep them from speaking, "He brought it as a bargaining chip towards your uncle in the mountain, to try to sway him to fight with us since Legolas brought news of a massive orc army on its way to our position." Bard looked towards Tauriel who had also sat up straighter under Bard's attention. "Tomorrow morning, the elves and the majority of the fighting men here will march to Erebor to see what Thorin has to say. Some men will be left behind to make sure everything is secure here," Bard looked to Fili and Kili, "it was decided that you would continue to remain here as collateral just in case Thorin refuses to help."

Bard sounded reluctant to say the last and Fili understood without having to press that it didn't sit right with Bard, keeping the dwarves here as collateral. In all truth, however, Fili was fairly certain that should he and Kili want to leave they'd be able to without much skirmishing on their hands. Kili nodded towards Bard and spoke for them both, "We will stay with your family to ensure their protection while you are gone."

Fili added, "I would like to say that our uncle will listen to your bargain but," he shook his head after a glance at his brother, "I cannot be certain that he will."

"Understood." Bard looked at the other occupants at the table and gave a slight smile. "We should finish as quickly as possible and get some rest. Tomorrow will be quite the day."

Bard had not retired to sleep but had instead sat in the doorway of the house, his eyes on the bright moon, while behind him his family and makeshift allies had situated themselves in various corners to sleep. He replayed the conversations of the past few days in his head, trying to find an angle of some sort that he could use in his conversation with Thorin in the morning to would help them win his favor. His own conversation with the dwarf king had not gone well, as he'd allowed the dwarf to rile his own temper, but that couldn't be repeated. There was too much at stake.

"Do you think he'll see reason?" Katun whispered her question to Bard once the rest of the house seemed to settle into slumber.

Bard smiled to himself as he shifted his position to make room for her. He wasn't surprised that she was still awake or that she'd seek him out to talk. He'd grown accustomed to this: her seeking him out and his knowing she would, as well as vice versa on more than one occasion. He knew it was not appropriate to grow so used to her presence in his life or in the lives of his children, for what was she to them? He knew enough from the dwarves, from her friend Alyse, and from Katun herself to know that she was not only from another land but another world entirely. Should she regain her memories and find a way back to her world, who was he to stop her? What right would he have? Telling her that he felt comfortable with her, that he felt that his children were safe with her, and that he found her attractive were not reasons enough and he felt ashamed that that seemed to be all he could offer her. For his own future was unknown. He had no means of employment now and even without the threat of an orc army, he had nothing aside from himself and his children to offer anyone. No one in their right mind would accept an agreement like that. There would be no gain for the other person, nothing of worth.

Had they not been living in these dark times, the townspeople would've already begun wagging their tongues about the nature of their relationship—and perhaps in spite of the dangers they already were. It actually surprised Bard, when he stopped to think of it himself, that he wasn't more perturbed with the grey area in which their relationship existed. He knew with certainty that she was drawn to him, and he was to her as well, but the question was, what were they going to do about it? Would she be content to be the wife of a man without occupation, suddenly a mother-figure to three children, living in a world not her own? It would be entirely too selfish of him to expect that or ask that of her. And now was most certainly not the time to dwell on it either.

"I do not." Bard spoke only after Katun was settled, leaning herself against the opposite doorpost. There was scant space between them, and he could feel the warmth of her leg against his own on occasion when she or he shifted, but it was not too intimate a space to cause trouble. "I should not have lost my temper with him and it was just the two of us speaking but even then, when it was only me, he had been unstable and unreasonable. I can only assume that seeing two armies, comprised of men and elves, will only serve to further discolor his temper towards our cause." Bard looked over to see Katun rolling her wrists then rubbing at the pads of her right hand. "What is wrong?"

She looked at him in confusion then saw that he was watching her movements, "Oh. All the sharpening and cleaning today had me bending my wrists and fingers in ways that they haven't moved in a while. I think I was a bit over confident in my ability to 'bounce back' from such work."

"Here," Bard held out his hand towards hers. When she hesitated, he gestured with his fingers, "Here." She slowly placed her hand in his and he immediately covered her hand with his other one. He felt around with his fingers, pushing them firmly into the muscles of her palms before smoothing them up the length of her fingers. He remembered doing something similar for his wife during winter nights when her hands would ache from all the mending she'd done during the day. Katun's hands and forearm were stronger than his wife's had been, but just as calloused and warm. He smiled at her continued look of confusion, "I used to do this for my wife when her hands would ache after a day of work. My aches were always in my shoulders while hers were in her hands. It worked well for us to exchange comfort."

Katun nodded and Bard was satisfied to see that she wasn't uncomfortable with the mentioning of his wife. He sometimes worried that he spoke about her too often, but then other times he feared he didn't talk about her enough. His children, Tilda especially, he at times worried that they would lose memory of her and he too would. While it hurt to dwell on her loss, at the same time it would hurt even more to wake up one day and forget completely something about her. He kept his attention on Katun's hand, finding relaxation in his own ministrations.

"You can talk about her more often if you like." Katun's statement surprised Bard in that it was so close to his own thoughts. "Believe me when I say that I understand, to a degree, the fear of losing a memory of someone." She winked at him when he looked up and he smiled at her humor. "I can see that she was a woman of great character in the faces of your children and know that you were a lucky man to have had the time with her that you did."

Bard smiled, "Yes, I was, and my children are a continued blessing from her." He held out his hand for her other one and she obliged after he set her other hand down, resting it on his knee as he'd scooted closer and faced her now in order to have a better angle to massage. "And thank you, for not being perturbed when I speak about her. You are right, in that sometimes I fear losing a memory of her. I fear even more than my children will."

"Then why don't you talk about her more often? Tilda has no recollection of her and I do know from Sigrid that even she and Bain wish to talk about her more often and while they do what they can to tell Tilda about her they find that sometimes their own memories are failing them." Katun sucked in her lower lip then, as if she'd just noticed what it was she was saying.

Bard continued his massaging, "Did they say these things to you?" She nodded. "I'm glad they feel secure enough with you to speak about these things. And thank you for telling me as well." He stopped his massaging, but didn't let go of her hand, as he looked back outside to the moon. "When this passes us by and we can set about making a life for ourselves here, I will endeavor to speak of her more often."

Katun's fingers moved until they were between his own and he looked down to see her holding his hand. When he looked up again she was smiling, "I look forward to that."

Bard was startled by her statement and withdrew his hand because of it, "I had assumed you would leave with your friends once this was all settled."

"Oh," he watched as Katun's warm expression fell into one of dejection and he immediately regretted his words and actions, "I guess you're right. But, I hadn't put much thought in that direction. My only firm memories of life, as of now, are here with you all so it seemed natural to, assume as well, that it'd continue that way. But," before Bard could explain himself further Katun stood, "what you say is true. Once this is all settled, and my friends Alyse and Jaq return for me, it is only fitting that we move on to where we belong." The smile she gave him was sad but genuine and it kept him silent. "I hope you sleep well, Bard, in spite of the uncertainty of tomorrow."

She turned away while he stayed in his silence. He watched her as she settled beside Tilda, between her and Sigrid, and his heart kicked him in the head when he saw through the shadows as Tilda wrapped her body snugly against Katun's and Katun draped a comforting arm over his daughter's shoulders in response. Groaning he turned back towards the moon and cursed. He was an idiot.