"Bard?"

"Hmm?"

"Is there an easy way to get iron powder anywhere?"

Bard sighs, and shakes his head at my question.

"In my world, iron hurts magical creatures. If Smaug is a magical creature, maybe iron can hurt him in this world."

Bard looks intrigued by the thought, and when Mphatso comes for dinner, Bard asks them about it as soon as the meal is served.

Mphatso looks thoughtful. "There's a supply of iron powder in the master's storerooms, and some more I think by one of the blacksmith shops."

"Can we get some?"

"It's expensive," Mphatso says. "In the quantities I think you're looking for it will be more than we can afford."

"Is that blacksmith in the network?" I ask Mphatso.

They shake their head. "I don't think so." They look at Chiko and say, "We could work on that though, if we needed to."

Chiko shrugs. "You can try, but I don't know what difference it will make. It may not even be the blacksmith's iron powder. It might be better just to buy a small quantity and use it sparingly."

"We can look into it in a couple of weeks," Bard says, and my heart squeezes in my chest. Chiko can barely afford the groceries. I've done nothing but cause trouble since I arrived, and Chiko and Bard are paying the price.

I tune out the rest of the conversation, wondering how I managed to screw things up so badly. I can't afford to make any more mistakes.

"Aspen?"

I jump, my eyes meeting Bard's.

"Mphatso says they have found a place for a camp south by the Forest River. We can start sending supplies there until we're ready to move them."

"But not so many that the guards will notice. Only a few at a time, until Aspen's dwarves come and we can move everything to Dale," Chiko adds.

"Wait, what are we doing in Dale?" I ask.

Chiko raises an eyebrow. "I just said that we need a place to spend the winter, preferably where we can defend ourselves. The river camp is temporary, and good for avoiding suspicion, but Dale is our final goal."

"Oh. Of course."

Chiko, Dolgoon, and I spend the next two days moving barrels of salted fish, root vegetables, and quilts from our community centers onto Mphatso's barge. It's not enough for an entire town, but none of us mention that particular fact.

Chiko has me gather as many herbs as I can, to either go into salves or compresses, or to hang from the ceiling rafters to dry in bundles. I harvest large quantities of mint, comfrey, and kingsfoil, aided by a basket Mphatso gave to me with a broad smile.

When he can, Bard comes with me on these harvesting trips, lingering nearby and keeping his eyes on the forest around us. Sometimes he brings his oud and keeps us entertained with bawdy fishermen's songs, and sometimes after I finish my work we'll spar. He tells me stories about growing up with Chiko in Laketown, and how he joined the citadel, and I tell him stories about my life. He seems intrigued by the idea of a university, especially by the idea that people can go just to study literature or music.

One day when I'm gathering by the lakeshore, I ask him about sending letters, and how much it costs. If we could afford it I would have sent letters to Rivendell and Beorn's house a long time ago, asking for whatever supplies they could spare. Bard shakes his head and confirms that it's expensive, even for the merchants, to send a letter that far.

He tsks when he sees my disappointment.

"There is still a little time. Ahmad is making extra blankets and hats, and everyone I trust is working on defense plans. Dolgoon and Chiko are working to source more supplies, and you are helping to make sure we will survive the winter." Here Bard smiles, a tiny reassuring smile meant to comfort. "We are doing well."

I stab particularly hard at the dirt surrounding a late-growing ginger plant. "No thanks to me," I grumble. "I've done nothing but cause trouble since I arrived, and Chiko won't say it, but I know she's upset that she had to sell your mother's things for my bail and jail fine."

Bard grabs my hand from where he's crouched beside me, bringing my gaze up to his face.

"That was not your decision to make. It was our choice, and we would do it again. Not many people would do what you did, and that shows that you care about us. A lot more than some other people I could name," he says with a grin, and I laugh.

His smile grows bigger and he squeezes my hand. "Would you like to see the people you are helping?"

"I see them every day at the community center."

He shakes his head again. "I mean outside of the community center. I'm delivering food tonight."

"After the curfew?"

"Aye, of course."

"I would like to, but we need to be careful. I don't want to cause any more trouble for you, or go to jail again."

Bard laughs. "One afternoon in jail was enough? You don't want to see Alfrid again?"

I throw a clump of grass and wet dirt at him, which he easily dodges. He throws one back, and for a few minutes the two of us run around on the bank, ginger forgotten, as we throw dirt and insults at each other. Some gets in my mouth, and Bard bends over with laughter as I spit and cough, trying to get it out.

I shoot him a dark look and smooth down my skirt, pretending to be mad. He grins apologetically, then says, "Just follow my lead, and everything should be fine."

He helps me gather my supplies and collects his oud, and we make our way back to the house, the air growing colder with the setting sun. Fall came upon Laketown quickly, faster than I expected. From what I've heard it's a short season, and winter will be here soon.

Chiko turns around from the fireplace when Bard and I enter the house, and immediately wrinkles her nose. "What is that smell?"

"I was gathering down by the shore today," I reply, setting down my basket while trying not to look at Bard.

Chiko takes in our appearances, and the little bits of dirt still clinging to Bard's hair. She eyes the mud staining my skirt hem, and she huffs as she crosses her arms. "You look like you were throwing mud at each other. Or mud-wrestling."

I hear Bard's stifled snort, and my eyes meet his, which is a huge mistake. We break into laughter, collapsing at the kitchen table when our legs give out on us. Chiko stands with her hands on her hips, scolding us for ruining our clothes so soon after wash day. One look at her disappointed face sets us off again. My stomach and cheeks ache from laughing so hard, and I can't remember when I last felt this way.

Chiko hauls me up by the arm, making me stumble over the bench. "You two can stay outside until you behave. I won't put up with your antics like this." She drags us to the door and shoves us into the stair railing, still ranting about us stinking up her kitchen and behaving like children. She slams the door shut with a final insult that has Bard in stitches.

We sit on the top step and take deep breaths, eventually growing calm in the cold air.

"Hypocrite," Bard murmurs, his voice affectionate. "I've been putting up with her antics for years."

I hum in agreement, looking towards the last bits of sunlight lingering in the west. "We should get water for the wash," I say, helping Bard get to his feet.

When we've pulled up a few buckets we go back into the house, filling up the wash tub that sits by the fire. I add the hot rocks while Bard fetches more water, and wait for the water to heat. Chiko emerges from her room with a towel.

"Are you and my brother ready to join polite society?"

"Aye, we're ready."

After we bathe and eat Chiko's almost edible grilled fish, we wait by the fire. I work on a new knitting project while Chiko works on Bard's hair, twisting his roots so they'll lock up properly.

Eventually there's a knock on the door, and Bard stands.

"It's time," he says.

We quickly change into dark clothing, and Chiko sends us out with a warning to be careful.

A basket sits outside the door, and after a glance around shows the walkways and canals are empty, we are off.

We don't speak, communicating through silent signals and soft touches on arms, slipping through the shadows and hiding in alleys to avoid patrolling guards. Our breath puffs in the air, and occasionally our boots squeak on a board, but no one is around to notice. We reach our destination, and Bard taps lightly at the door.

The door swings open to reveal a teenage girl with limp hair, two small children huddled together by the sputtering fire, and a woman lying on a pile of rags a little further away. I move towards the woman while Bard goes to work on the fire.

"Can I help you with anything?" I ask. The woman's skin is flushed, and sweat beads on her brow.

"No, unless you have something for pain." Her voice is tense.

I rummage through the basket, looking to see if there's anything I can use. The only herbs I find are used for colds, and when I tell the woman she just shakes her head.

"That's alright love. You're doing more for my family with this delivery than the master ever has with his aid program."

"What is his aid program like?"

The woman attempts a smile, but it comes out as a grimace. "Lots of interviews. And moldy grain."

Bard appears on the other side of the woman, the fire now burning steadily. I focus on the cracks in the wall stuffed with dried mud as Bard gives the woman a small pouch containing a few coins to pay off the interest on her debt. Where the money comes from I don't know.

I go to sit by the children as Bard and the woman talk quietly, and I try to distract them by combing their hair. The girl comes over with a loaf of bread, and the three of them tear off small pieces that they chew slowly, trying not to eat too quickly. I take in their scrawny arms and rounded stomachs, and smell their unwashed bodies, and bite my lip.

Bard places a hand on my shoulder, and when I look up he says, "It's time to go. We will come back soon."

"Keep a cold cloth on her forehead. It should help with her fever," I instruct the girl, and we leave. I breathe deeply, trying to suppress the nausea building in my stomach.

"Aspen, we must go," Bard whispers urgently, and he takes my hand to lead me back. I keep my other hand clamped firmly on my mouth.

We creep through the streets, sneaking through the city like we did on our way out. I estimate we're about ten minutes from home when we run into trouble. First we hear the shouts. About two blocks ahead, some figures careen around a corner and run our way. Bard reacts before I can, holding tight to my hand and sprinting for the next turn. We take the turn so fast I slip, banging my knees on the wood and wrenching my arm.

"Come on," Bard urges, half dragging me. I regain my feet and follow after him. Shouts echo from behind, and the pound of feet comes closer.

A boat is tied to a post on our left, and Bard lifts back the tarp, waving his hand for me to climb in. He climbs in after me and pulls the tarp over our heads. We curl up in the spaces between the benches, the lap of water loud in our ears and partially blocking out the sound of shouts up above. After a few minutes running footsteps come our way, followed by a cry of pain.

"Get up! You're under arrest!"

"Let me go!" someone shouts.

I can't see Bard in the dark, but I can hear him curse under his breath. We hear the sounds of a struggle and several grunts and thuds. Then we hear nothing.

We wait for what seems an eternity before Bard finally whispers, "Wait." He moves slowly, barely pulling back the tarp before raising his head just high enough to see outside. He spends another minute looking and waiting for someone to appear, but all is still and silent. Finally he climbs out of the boat, turning to help me out.

I brush myself off as he replaces the tarp. "Home. Now," he whispers. He grabs my hand again and we hurry through the city, going as fast as we dare, before finally stumbling up the stairs and spilling into our house. Bard shuts the door with a thud, still tightly gripping my hand. He visibly relaxes, and shares a long look with me before pulling me into a hug.

"We're moving those children into a community house soon," he says, his voice partly muffled by my shoulder.

The image of the three children breaking off pieces of bread, clutching them to their concave chests, fills my mind, and I shiver in Bard's arms. "They're starving. They should have been moved sooner."

Bard sighs. "Aye, but we promised their mother they could stay with her until…" He trails off, looking to the door and clenching his jaw.

"Until she's about to go." I finish, and Bard nods.

"Is it wrong to hope that she dies before the dragon comes?" Bard's voice is so quiet I can barely hear the question, and I squeeze him a little tighter.

"No, I don't think so."

"That's what Mphatso said."

I chuckle. "Mphatso's right. They seem to give good advice."

Bard takes a deep breath and finally releases me.

"Aye, they do. Are you feeling alright?"

"Aye. My knee will just be a little sore tomorrow."

"No nausea?" Bard asks with a slight smile.

"Not anymore," I say, before being interrupted by a huge yawn. I grin sheepishly. "I should get to bed."

Bard smiles again. "Goodnight Aspen. Thank you for coming with me tonight."

"Goodnight," I say as I slip into Chiko's room. A grin lingers on my face as I push Chiko over to her side of the bed and slip between the covers, falling almost immediately into a dreamless sleep.

Two days later the children move into our community center, wide-eyed and silent. I hug them close and tell them to cry as long as they need. For the first time, I spend the night at the community center, piled on a spare bed with the two smallest children latched onto my arms, the teenage daughter in the next bed over. When I get back to the house the next night I collapse on Chiko's bed and cry.

The days slowly pass and it gets colder and colder. I continue to go with Bard on late-night missions, sometimes to steal supplies, sometimes to deliver food. Mphatso continues to smuggle goods out of Laketown, and when they come by to deliver the latest inventory numbers, I allow myself to hope for a moment that we have a chance to survive.

And then one morning there's a frantic pounding on our door. Chiko answers, and Ahmad pushes his way in, panting for breath. His gaze settles on me as he gasps out, "There's a group of dwarves that just passed through the market. They were escorted straight to the master's hall."

The bench topples over as I push away from the table and out the door, almost tripping down the steps. People yell and scold as I sprint past, my lungs and throat aching from the cold air.

My dwarves! My dwarves are here!

I round a corner and promptly run straight into someone's back.

They curse and spit at me. "Watch it, dock brat!"

I send one of Bard's rude gestures their way and continue on at a slower pace to the master's hall, wedging my way in between people and squirming as close as I can to the voices I hear in the middle of the crowd.

My dwarves are right here! Just a few more feet—

"I speak to the Master of the town of the Men of the Lake," a voice says.

"Fili!" I gasp, my heart pounding in my chest. I try to push my way through to the center, saying I'm their friend, but the townspeople push back, some telling me to shut up and jump into the nearest canal.

I stop pushing for a minute, focusing on my options. The crowd is too loud for me to try calling out for them. If I push to the front, there's only a slight chance one of the dwarves will notice me. And if I try to run to them, it would raise a lot of questions I'd prefer not to answer. Questions about my true identity, and why I've stayed with Chiko and Bard for weeks, rather than look for accommodations more befitting my status as a friend of princes. If I ask to see them later, it would be the same. More questions.

I make a noise of frustration. I can't even tell how many dwarves there are!

The master says something indistinguishable, and the townspeople cheer and break out into song.

I sulk my way back to the house.

Chiko and Ahmad look up when I enter, and Chiko pats the space across from her. "How did they look?" she asks.

I sit with a huff. "It was so crowded I couldn't even see them. Did you see how many there were?" I ask Ahmad.

"Maybe ten," he says with a shrug. "I came here as fast as I could."

"I need to talk to them," I say. "We need to know what they're planning so we can adjust accordingly. We should start getting as many people out as we can."

"That is the plan, yes," Chiko says. "But now, we need to tell Dolgoon, Bard, and Mphatso, if they don't already know."

The three of us split up, with Ahmad going to track down Mphatso and Chiko to find Bard, which means I get to tell Dolgoon her world is about to change.

When I make it to the community center, I am quickly swarmed by bunches of children of various sizes, showing me a new gap in their teeth or their new knitting project. I smile at them, though it comes out strained at the edges.

I find Dolgoon upstairs, nursing a sick girl hunched over a bucket. Dolgoon looks up with worried eyes. "She has food sickness."

I think for a minute, distracted as I am. "Try to get her small sips of clean water. She's likely dehydrated."

Dolgoon calls for another girl, and soon the sick girl is slowly sipping at some water. When she's sure that the girl will be fine, Dolgoon pulls me down the hall. "I assume something has happened," she states.

I take a deep breath before diving in. "My company is here. They're staying with the master."

Dolgoon nods, apparently only slightly surprised. "How do you plan to contact them?"

"I'm hoping that tonight I'll be able to go see them in person."

"At the master's house?"

"Aye, but it's not like I'm going to knock on the front door. I'll probably just find a window or something."

Dolgoon grimaces, probably imagining me falling to my death from the master's roof, or worse, getting arrested again.

"You should take Bard with you. He knows how to get around. And how to improvise," she finishes with a smirk.

I flush. "The boat mission only went slightly wrong. All the others have been fine."

Dolgoon looks unconvinced, but drops the subject. "If I'm going to be overseeing operations at the camp, I need to start getting ready to go. Will you send Chiko when you see her?"

"Aye, of course."

We hug tightly, and I leave her to her work. I take my time going back to the house, passing by the master's hall and lingering like many others, hoping for signs of the dwarves. Only I'm looking for ways inside. I eye the pillars and low-hanging roof, and count the guards standing watch by the door.

The basics a plan forms in the back of my mind, and I grin.

Tonight, for the first time in over a month, I could see my dwarves. I could introduce them to Bard and Chiko, and all the others.

A happy future, filled with friends and family and laughter, flashes before me, leaving a burning ache in my heart.

Be more, a voice whispers in the back of my mind.

The minute Bard arrives home that night, I immediately ask if he can accompany me to go see the dwarves. He smiles and says, "Of course."

Two hours after the curfew begins we sneak out of the house, flitting from shadow to shadow like we have so many times before. It takes no time for us to reach the master's hall and find our best point of entry, a second-floor window furthest from the entrance, left slightly ajar, directly above a supporting pillar. After a few minutes of discussion to decide the best way up, and a further few minutes of observation to make sure we won't be seen, we approach the hall out of the guards' line of sight, hugging close to the edge of the walkway, the marketwater on our right.

Bard squeezes my shoulder before he crouches down, and I climb up to sit on his shoulders. I wobble a little as he rises, his hands tight around my calves. When I tap his shoulder, he shifts his hands, guiding my feet to his shoulders as I get a better grip on the roof's edge. I clamber my way up, my shoulders burning and everything freezing from the wood.

I take a second to look around for a place to tie my rope, then crawl up the slick roof, peering through the window. The room is empty and dark, and even the hallway beyond appears to be deserted, since there's no light slipping from under the closed door. There's no sound except for the marketwater below. I slip into the room, and use one of Mphatso's knots to secure the rope to the bedpost, then dangle the end over the roof to help Bard climb up.

As soon as I can reach him I grab hold of his shoulders and pull, my heels bracing against the roof as much as possible. With one final push, Bard hauls himself up and over the edge, taking a couple deep breaths before he sits up and gestures for me to follow.

We creep to the window, collecting the rope as we go. I sling it back around my body as Bard tiptoes across the room to the door leading to the hallway, peering out. I follow, looking at the desk to see if there's any trace of the person staying in the room. Stacks of papers cover the surface, and maps and books of letters lie open, scraps of cloth marking the pages. A letter with scratchy handwriting addressed to Alfrid lies on top of it all. I wrinkle my nose, but restrain myself from touching anything and trail after Bard into the hallway.

The master's hall is silent and still, most of its occupants asleep this late in the night. Bard and I slowly make our way down the hall, easing open doors to make sure they don't squeak. I keep a mental tally of the dwarves in each room, grinning each time a door opens to reveal their snoring forms.

We reach the last door, all the way down the hall from where we started, just a few feet away from a balcony overlooking the entrance below. Bard looks at me and when I nod, he opens the door.

We enter, and Bard shuts the door as I move towards the dresser, searching for a candle.

Eventually I find what I'm looking for. I take a deep breath, and light the candle with a smoldering ember from the dead fire.

The flickering light reveals the forms of two sleeping dwarves, and I smile, moving towards one to shake his shoulder.

The second my hand touches him he jerks awake, sitting up so fast I have to jerk back to avoid a collision.

His eyes are wild, but within seconds he settles and focuses on me, his eyebrows creased with confusion.

"Aspen?"

I smile and hold my arms out.

"Kili."