A/N: Just want to say a little thank you to everyone who's been leaving comments and who've been sending me really sweet DMs~ I haven't really had the spoons to reply very much of late thanks to everything that's going on in my personal life, but I do read them and appreciate them all. They're a lovely little bright spot amongst the chaos of Real Life. ❤️❤️❤️

The people of Laketown were full of optimism as the majority of Thorin's company sailed away from their city the next morning, but for the others, it was a more somber event. The princes, Oin, and Baylee had remained behind, having already said their goodbyes. They would have gone out and joined the throng, but they all agreed that there were just too many people there for it to be safe for them.

"Everything's going t' be alright," Fili said, breaking the silence between them. His eyes were fixed on Kili's wound, which Oin was cleaning. "Uncle and Balin know that mountain like the back o' their hands. Even if anything happens, they'll know where they could hide or where they would be able t' get the advantage over Smaug."

"If Smaug even lives," Kili said through clenched teeth. He looked worse than he did the previous day, his skin being pale and clammy. As Baylee held the bowl of warm water for Oin, she stole a glance at the wound; little black lines that she could only assume were veins branched out and away from the hole in his flesh.

She hoped the healer would arrive soon.

"If Smaug doesn't live, then they may have quite an easy time o' things," Kili continued, unaware of the worry filling the little hobbit's mind. "Even if there were bands o' orcs or goblins for them t' contend with, I'm sure they'd be able t' crush them with ease."

"Ah, don't get cocky on your uncle's behalf, laddie," Oin gently scolded. Though it was still quite hard for him to hear what was being said even when he was so close to the prince, he was able to just barely make out the conversation without his ear trumpet thanks to how quiet it was in the room. "It's one thing t' have pride an' faith in people, but when you start gettin' cocky, that's when you're settin' yourself up for disappointment."

Kili pursed his lips in a small pout. "But it's true—if there are just orcs or goblins in the mountain, then uncle an' the others will be able t' handle them."

"But even that depends on how many there are," Fili reminded him. "A couple dozen? Aye, then it'd be no problem for them. But a couple hundred?" He shook his head.

"Well, depending on the terrain—"

"Where is everyone…?"

The three dwarves and hobbit exchanged confused looks with one another, confusion on their faces. Looking around, they saw no one—until, that is, they saw a familiar hat poking up overtop one of the tables near the corner of the room.

"…Bofur?" Fili questioned, his voice betraying his befuddlement. His eyes widened slightly as Bofur stood upright, looking like he had just woken up from the most pleasant of naps.

"Mornin', lads, lass," he said, a sleepy grin on his lips. "Quite the party we had last night, wasn't it?" His cheeks were still slightly flushed from all the alcohol he had ingested the previous night.

Baylee cleared her throat; she wondered how she failed to notice that Bofur hadn't been with the others. "Y-yes, it was, but—"

"Where're the others?" he interrupted. While yawning, he also asked, "Are they still in bed?"

"N-no, they're not. They left nearly an hour ago," she answered. Then, shaking her head, she asked, "How were you able to sleep through all the noise they made when they got ready to leave?"

Any amusement he had felt at being up 'early' left Bofur's face and his eyes widened. "Y-you're serious? They left?"

"Aye, they did an' I have t' agree with the wee lassie: How did you not wake up durin' all the commotion o' them gettin' ready t' leave, lad?" Oin questioned, having grabbed his trumpet and put it to his ear. "I'm nearly deaf an' I was able t' hear them just fine!"

"I think the question should be: How did we not notice that he wasn't with the others?" Kili grunted, shifting his position in the chair slightly.

Bofur swore in Khuzdul and started to lightly smack himself on the forehead—luckily, his hat cushioned the blows. "Ooh, Bilbo's going t' be so upset with me…" He looked quite disappointed as he walked towards their table. "Do you think there's a chance I could catch up with them?"

"Not unless you can swim very fast," Fili told him, his voice a bit dry. "Just how much did you have t' drink last night?"

"Far too much for his own good from the looks o' it," Kili snickered. Closing his eyes, he let his head fall back against the chair. "Ah, well, it might be for the best. He can keep us entertained with his singing." A soft hiss then left his mouth as Oin went back to cleaning his wound.

Fili watched Baylee set the bowl of water down on the tabletop before she headed into the kitchen to get Bofur some breakfast. "I guess what Bombur told us about you being able to sleep through anything after a night of partying was true," he chuckled as Bofur took a seat at the table. "Don't be too upset at yourself, though, Bofur—at least you didn't get left behind all by your lonesome."

Sighing, Bofur nodded. "That's true…I don't know what I would have done if I had woken up an' there was no one here." He shook his head. "Still feel like a fool, though…lettin' myself get that drunk when I knew we were leavin' in the morning. I didn't even think those weak human brews would get me drunk!"

Fili reached over and patted his shoulder. "I think you're mostly just sad because Bilbo's with the others an' not with us," he gently teased. He couldn't help but grin when his friend pouted. "Ah, so that is the main reason you're upset."

"When you get yourself a lover, lad, then you'll know what it's like t' be unwillingly separated from them for any length o' time," he said, shaking a scolding finger at the prince. Then, letting out another sigh, he slouched back in the chair. "I didn't even get t' say goodbye t' him."

"You'll get t' see him again before you know it," Kili assured him, though his voice was a bit strained. His knuckles were white as he gripped the edge of the table and his face was contorted in pain. Combined with his pale skin, he did not look at all well. "Mahal help me—that healer woman better get here soon or else I might just chop off my leg."

Fili frowned, worry coming to his face; that was the first time he had heard his brother say such a thing since receiving the wound. "I'm sure she'll be arriving soon," he said, managing to keep his voice neutral. Though he was filled with nervousness for his brother's health, he knew he had to remain the calm and collected one. His uncle had put him in charge, after all. "We've been assured time and time again that she'd be coming to town today, after all."

Kili nodded, though it was clear that the pain was becoming unbearable for him.

"Here, lad," Oin said, pulling a little bottle out from his medicine kit. "Chew on this for a while. It should help ease up the pain a bit." From the bottle, he pulled out a chunk of tree bark.

"You want him t' eat bark?" Bofur questioned, his brow rising.

Oin looked confused. "No, it won't leave any marks."

Shaking his head, Bofur raised his voice so Oin could better hear him as he repeated, "I said, 'You want him t' eat bark?'"

At that, Oin rolled his eyes. "I want him t' chew the bark," he corrected. "Willow bark has properties that'll help relieve the pain a wee bit."

Kili hesitantly took the piece of bark from him and looked it over. "…What's it goin' t' taste like?" he asked, speaking loudly.

"Hm? Oh, not too bad. It's a wee bit bitter, but it reminds me a bit o' beer." Pulling out a roll of cloth bandages, he started to wrap Kili's leg up again. "You need t' chew it until it basically turns into pulp t' get the full effect out o' it, though, so your jaw may get a wee bit tired."

"I'd rather a tired jaw than an aching leg…" Sighing, he popped the bark into his mouth and started to chew. His nose scrunched up slightly; it not only felt odd to be chewing a piece of bark, but it tasted strange, too.

"What did Oin give him?" The dwarves looked over to find Baylee sliding a bowl of porridge onto the table beside Bofur, along with a mug of weak beer.

None of them had seen her enter the room.

"Willow bark," Fili answered with a small chuckle. "I see you're still up t' your Mouse-Lass tricks."

Her brow rose as she let Bofur pick her up and set her on the chair beside him. "What do you mean?"

"None o' us saw you come into the room," Kili grunted, his speech slightly impeded by the bark in his mouth. "I don't think I even saw you leave, t' be honest."

"She's a sneaky one, even when she doesn't mean to be," Bofur chuckled, reaching over and patting her atop the head. "By the way, thank you, lass, for fetchin' me some food. I appreciate it."

She gave him a small smile; despite his cheery voice, he looked both hungover and depressed. "It's no trouble. I figured you probably don't want to be doing much walking around just yet, given the hangover you must have."

He couldn't help but laugh at that. "You're right about that, lass…My head's poundin' somethin' fierce right now. But it's nothing some food an' weak drink can't fix." Leaning forward, he rested his arms on the table and brought the bowl of porridge closer to him. It had some bits of dried fruit in it that had become plump from sitting in the porridge for some time. Scooping up a spoonful, he popped it into his mouth.

"Do you want Oin t' give you some willow bark, too?" Kili asked, some humor in his voice. "I'm sure it'd go lovely with the flavor o' that porridge you're eatin'."

"What was that, lad?" Oin questioned, putting his trumpet up to his ear. "You want some borage for your fever? I'm afraid I don't have any on me at the moment."

Fili shook his head. "No," he said, voice loud. "He was asking Bofur if he wanted some willow bark for his hangover and that the flavor would go nicely with his porridge." He felt a bit bad for speaking so loudly when he was sitting right next to the hungover dwarf, but the only sign of discomfort Bofur showed was his eyes closing and his brows furrowing slightly.

Opening his eyes again, Bofur looked over at Kili only to wince again; he did not like how the prince was looking that day. He managed to bite his tongue and keep himself from commenting on it, however, given that he was positive Kili had heard enough from the others already. "Was it you or Bombur who made the porridge, Baylee?" he asked, scooping up a spoonful of it and shoving it into his mouth.

"A joint effort. Bombur did the stirring and seasoning while I chopped up the dried apples and cranberries while also fetching him the ingredients," she answered. Using the back of her hand, she covered her mouth as she yawned. She hadn't slept very well the previous nightly—partly because of the party that took place and partly because of nervousness about the others leaving. Judging by the tired looks on the others' faces, they, too, hadn't slept very well.

"Well, it tastes mighty good," he complimented. "You an' Bombur make a good team."

"Don't they?" Fili agreed with a small laugh. "They've certainly managed t' keep us well-fed on this journey." Picking up his own mug of beer, he took a long drink from it. "Luckily, you've only got four o' us to worry about feedin'—for now, at least."

"Yes, but the four of you still eat quite a bit," she reminded him. "Luckily, over the course of this journey, I've learned how to cook for large groups of dwarves. In fact, I think I might've forgotten how to cook in normal sized portions at this point."

"I don't think Uncle Thorin would mind," Kili tiredly teased. "Especially if it meant you making more of that chicken and dumplings…How many bowls did he have of that, Fi? Three? Four?"

Bofur and Fili snorted. "Five," they chorused.

"Now, carefully fold them in like I showed you."

"Like this?"

"Yes, just like that."

"How long do I have to fold them in for?"

"Just until you can't see any more streaks." Baylee smiled as she sat on the counter in Bard's kitchen, watching as Sigrid carefully folded together a combination of whipped egg whites and some sort of batter. "This is a lot easier than having to do all that whisking for the egg whites, isn't?" she joked.

Sigrid nodded, letting out a small laugh. "It is. My arm isn't getting the least bit sore from this."

"I'm afraid you might be feeling the effects of that whisking tomorrow, though," Baylee warned. "But it'll be worth the pain, I promise."

"I trust you," she smiled. "I'm not seeing any more streaks of egg white—what do I do now?"

Baylee nodded to the little table behind her. "Get your buttered cooking pot and carefully pour the mixture into it. After that, you'll want to make sure the lid is also well buttered, since this cake may rise a bit. Then, you'll put it over that cooler section of coals for three quarters of an hour. Be sure to put some coals on the lid as well. That way it gets even heat."

"How will we know it's done?"

"You'll poke it in the center with the paring knife. If it comes out clean or with just a couple of crumbs, it's done." As Sigrid started to pour the light and fluffy batter into the cooking pot, she smiled. "You'll want to remember to take the lid off the pot while the cake cools, by the way. That way it won't keep cooking."

Sigrid tilted her head slightly and Baylee watched a hint of mischief come to the girl's eyes. "Couldn't I just dunk it part way into the lake a few times to help cool it off?" she asked. "Like when you're boiling eggs and you put them into cold water when they're done?"

"Truthfully, that thought never occurred to me," she chuckled. "I'm not so sure cooling a cake down that fast would be a very good idea, however."

"Hm? Why is that?"

"I'm not sure. I was just always told to let a cake cool down in its pan until you can handle it without burning yourself—then you can put it on a plate and let it finish cooling before decorating and eating."

Nodding in understanding, she used the spoon to scrape as much of the batter from the bowl as she could. "That makes sense. Cakes are quite a bit different from boiled eggs, after all." After buttering the lid, she placed it on the cooking pot before carrying the whole thing over to the hearth.

When she turned around to go clean up the small mess she had made, she found that Baylee had slid off the counter and, mixing bowl in hand, was making her way to the wash basin. Her brow rising, she put her hands on her hips. "Miss Baylee, da' said that, as our guest, you're not allowed to clean up." She glanced at the far end of the dining table when she heard a snicker and saw Bain trying his best to hold back an amused grin.

The hobbit lass smiled innocently. "I'm just…gathering up the dishes into one place for you. That's not really cleaning, is it?"

"Then why're you heading over to the washbasin?" Bain questioned, his voice betraying the amount of amusement he felt.

Baylee pursed her lips in a small pout. "I'm gathering them up in the washbasin for her."

"The washbasin's full of soapy water! That counts as cleaning!" Tilda chirped as she came bouncing up the stairs from their 'basement'. "And papa said we're to make sure you don't do any cleaning." She wagged a scolding finger at the hobbit; in reality, it was more amusing to Baylee than it was reproachful.

Unable to keep herself from laughing, Baylee shook her head and held up her hands in a defeated fashion. "Alright, alright—I won't put anymore dishes into the basin," she promised. "Even if I don't think it should count as cleaning."

"Good," Tilda said. "Now, you should sit back down so that—" She was interrupted as the door to the house opened and Bard poked his head in. "Papa!"

Bard smiled tiredly at his youngest. "Hello, my little one. I'm afraid I'm not here for long—I'm here to get Miss Baylee."

Her head tilting, Baylee gave Bard a confused look. "Is something wrong?"

Shaking his head, Bard gave her a reassuring smile—though, Baylee couldn't help but notice that it didn't quite meet his eyes. "No, nothing's wrong. In fact, something quite good has happened: The healer's arrived."

"Oh, that's wonderful!" she chirped. "Has she seen to Kili yet?"

"She's actually waiting for you and me at the bottom of the stairs. I thought it would be best if you explained the situation to her instead of one of the others."

She nodded in understanding before turning to look up at Sigrid, who was in the process of wiping some flour from the counter and into her hand. "Don't forget: Let the cake bake for three quarters of an hour and then check it. If it's underdone, I'd put it back on for just five or so minutes, alright?"

The teen nodded, an amused smile on her lips. "Yes, Miss Baylee. Thank you again for teaching me this recipe."

Before Baylee could say anything, however, Tilda pointed up at Baylee. "We stopped her from doing any cleaning up, just like you told us to do," she proudly stated.

Bard couldn't help but snort at his daughter's declaration. "Did she do any sort of work at all or did you make her sit back and relax?"

"I had to do just a teensy bit of work at one point," the hobbit lass admitted, "but I assure you, that was it. It was easier to show Sigrid how to fold whipped egg whites into the batter rather than tell her."

"I suppose that can be allowed," he chuckled. He watched as Baylee brushed the front of her dress off while crossing the room to the door. "I'll be back soon," he told his children, "so continue behaving for one another, alright?"

A chorus of 'Yes, da' followed Baylee as she stepped out onto the landing. She looked down at the bottom of the stairs only for her eyes to widen and for her body to freeze up.

Standing at the bottom of the stairs was Tauriel.