Chapter Eight

The hallway was clogged with dwarves when Kili reached the sick room at Erebor. He ignored the speculative looks cast his way and shouldered his way through until he reached the door. Oin was there waiting for him.

"He's asking for you, lad."

"Why is everyone out here?"

Oin shrugged helplessly. "He said he wants to speak to you and Fili alone. He sent everyone else out to wait."

"Is he going to be all right?" Kili asked, battling a thread of guilt that he had not been here when Thorin awoke. He hated being torn between Tauriel and his kin. Especially now, when she felt close enough to him to share the story of her lost family. He wanted to make her smile, wanted to tell her he could be her family now. But any time he spent with Tauriel meant time away from Fili, away from Thorin. How was he supposed to reconcile these two parts of his life?

"He is weak yet," Oin said. "His body suffered tremendous wounds. By all rights he should not have survived Azog's attack, but I have never met a dwarf as stubborn as Thorin. I think he survived by sheer force of will."

"And Tauriel," Kili said. "Tauriel helped him."

"Aye, she did."

Kili opened the door and rushed into the room, then stopped in front of the cot where Thorin sat. He stared at the man who had been like a father to him for most of his life. There were cuts on his face that had not healed, and a weariness in his eyes.

"Thorin, I—"

Before he could work out what he wanted to say, Thorin wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him into an embrace. For a long moment they were silent, the three of them. "I failed you both," Thorin said.

"No," Kili denied immediately.

"Never," Fili said from beside his brother.

Thorin leaned back and looked from one to the other. His sister's children, but they had been like his own sons for as long as he could remember. He had watched them grow from boundless children into impetuous but strong and loyal men. There was nothing he would not do for them, no sacrifice he would not make, even unto the end of his life.

"I brought you on this quest with me, and I nearly brought us all to ruin."

"You could not have stopped us from coming," Kili said, and looked over at Fili.

Fili nodded. "We would have followed you anyway. You know that."

"All those many years ago I watched my grandfather succumb to madness brought on by the treasure he hoarded," Thorin said. "And then Azog the Defiler slayed him before my eyes."

Kili and Fili shared a glanced, and waited while Thorin went on.

"When we set out from the Shire I made a promise to myself. When we reclaimed Erebor, I would not let the same thing happen to me. I would not be taken by dragon sickness, and I would not watch my kin slain by Orcs." He looked at them both, his eyes haunted. "The madness gripped me before I knew it was happening. I betrayed you all. I doubted your loyalty, and I nearly brought about your deaths."

"Thorin, you fought the dragon sickness and won," Kili said. "You were strong enough to defeat it."

"The Orc armies were always going to come," Fili said. "The danger we were in was not of your making."

Thorin blew out a long breath. The guilt and battle-weariness he felt was still too great for him to believe he deserved their unwavering loyalty, but he was going to treasure it nonetheless, and he was going to prove to them, to everyone, that he deserved it.

They would build a new Erebor, and how they did it would define their legacy to their descendants. But what, he wondered, did he want that legacy to be?

Whatever it was, it would start with his nephews. He looked at Kili. "It seems you've created quite a stir in the last few days."

Kili sighed. Here it was, the conflict between heart and duty that had been raging inside him since that conversation a lifetime ago in the Mirkwood dungeons. He was afraid, so afraid, that he was going to be forced to choose between Tauriel and his kin. And how could he do that? How could he give up either, when they both felt so vital to him?

"Thorin...I can't apologize for how I feel. I feel alive when I'm with her. I know that we all have reason to hate elves, but…Tauriel is different. You have to see that." There was pleading in Kili's eyes as he looked at his uncle. "She would not have come here to help us if she was like the others. I hate Thranduil as much as you do." More, he thought, now that he knew the story of Tauriel's lost family, and how much finding her place at Mirkwood had meant to her. "But Tauriel is not like him. You have to know that."

Thorin saw the passion and the pleading in Kili's eyes, and it worried him as much as it cheered him. Cheered, because here was his nephew passionately defending what he believed in. This was not the immature dwarf who had set out from Bag End. This was his youngest nephew grown into a man. But he worried as well, because while he had obviously matured, Kili's recklessness was always close to the surface. And loving an elf…was that not the height of recklessness for a dwarf?

"I remember the day Smaug came here," he said. "I remember our people fleeing in panic, in terror. Dale was in ruins, and there in the distance Thranduil sat with his army, doing nothing but watching us suffer. We pleaded for help and he turned away. Took his army and went back to his kingdom. We were left to wander, to scrape out a living and whatever dignity we could manage. Yes, I despise Thranduil." He took a deep breath now, remembering the old hatred, the old fear. Remembering the pain of fleeing from his rightful home and the uncertainty of life in exile.

He looked at Kili. "I have to ask myself now, would I rather have died than owe a debt to one of Thranduil's elves?" When Kili opened his mouth to protest, Thorin held out a hand to stay him. "It is a question I have asked myself many times in the years since we were forced to flee this place. But I look at the two of you now and I have my answer. Your lives are worth more than my hatred."

Kili held his breath. "Are you saying that you support my relationship with Tauriel? That she is welcome here? Could you find a place for her here?"

Thorin shook his head, wishing he could give Kili what he was seeking. "I cannot do that."

Kili's heart dropped, and he frowned at Thorin. "But—"

"Kili, you must understand. As King I have to find a balance between my own desires and the needs of our people. Even if I can admit that she has done more for us than I ever imagined an elf would, if I walk out there and tell all of our kin that Tauriel has a home here, it could start a revolt. We have only just regained our homeland. We need time to heal from our wounds, time to rebuild this place, restore it to the glory it once held."

"I will not walk away from her," Kili said. "I can't."

"I know you believe you love her—"

"I don't believe it, I know it. And I am not afraid for everyone else to know it. She has earned our gratitude."

"And she will have it." Thorin gripped Kili's shoulder, hoping his nephew could understand the conflict taking place inside him. "This is not an easy path you are choosing," he said. "You may win some supporters, but there will still be those who think you a fool for this choice. You have to be prepared to face that."

"I am not as young and foolish as I once was," Kili assured him. "I want to be a part of building a new legacy here. But do you want that legacy to include old hatred? Why not show the world we can move beyond that? Show them we can change."

"How do you propose we do that?" Thorin asked.

"We start by honoring our word to Bard. We give him the gold we promised him for his help. We help him rebuild Dale for his people. And we give Thranduil the jewels." Now it was Kili's turn to hold out a hand to stay Thorin's protest. "If we want the elves to leave us in peace, I think we have to. How can we rebuild our lives if we are under constant threat of attack from Thranduil? Give him the jewels so he will leave us be."

"And do you also hope that doing so will help Tauriel regain his favor?"

"No," Kili said. "She does not believe that would ever happen. She has accepted that her home is gone. We know what that feels like."

Thorin tipped his head in acknowledgment. He looked at Kili, so earnest in his conviction but yes, a little afraid at the same time. However much his young nephew had grown during their journey, Thorin knew he did not fully understand the threat of scorn he faced for continuing his relationship with Tauriel. But at the same time, Thorin understood unconventional friendships. More than once since awakening, his thoughts had turned to Bilbo. He would never have expected to make friends with a hobbit. A dwarf and a hobbit, he thought. A dwarf and an elf. This journey had conjured strange friendships, strange consequences they could not have anticipated at the outset.

"I cannot offer her a home here," Thorin said. "Our people are not ready for that. But I want you to go and invite her here, so that I may thank her formally for the aid she has given to us. We can give her that much."

Kili nodded. It was not all that he had hoped for, but he supposed it was the best he could expect. He had seen the resistance of the other dwarves already. Tauriel had warned him that this prejudice could not be conquered in a day. But this was a start, he thought. Thorin was voluntarily inviting an elf to Erebor, and that would mean something to the others. Little by little, they would come to see that she was different. It had started already, with Fili, with Bofur and Oin. The rest would eventually see her for what she was. They had to.

The sounds of townspeople moving through the gates brought Tauriel to full wakefulness in seconds. She had slept under the portico just inside the city gates, not having wanted to move the chest of her belongings up to the tower she'd found the night before.

She stood, stretched out the aches brought on by sleeping on the hard ground, and stepped out into the open.

"Da, we want to go with you," Tilda stated.

Bard stood near the gates with his children gathered around him. Several men walked through the gates and headed away from the city as Tauriel watched.

Bard ran a hand over his daughter's hair. "It is too dangerous, darling. You stay here with your sister and brother."

"I could help," Bain said, clearly not for the first time.

"I need you to stay here, look out for your sisters," Bard said with a hand on Bain's shoulder. "We will only be gone for the day."

Sigrid turned and saw Tauriel standing nearby. "Good morning," she said with a soft smile.

Tilda saw her, and the girl's eyes lit with pleasure, which baffled Tauriel just a little. "Tauriel!" The girl skipped over, looked up at her with avid interest. "I saw you kiss a dwarf yesterday."

Tauriel, smiling in response to Sigrid's greeting, froze, went blank for a moment. She opened her mouth, but found she had no idea what to say. She had been so wrapped up in Kili that she'd had no idea anyone was watching. She, who always knew what was going on around her, had let a little girl slip past her guard. She shook her head inwardly.

"Tilda," Bard said, his voice quietly scolding. "It is not polite to spy on your friends."

"I was not spying, Da. I was by the gates and I saw them. They were throwing knives, and then they kissed by the tree."

"Tilda, when you watch someone and they do not know it, that is spying." He pulled the girl against his side in an affectionate but exasperated hug. He shook his head and looked over at Tauriel. "I am taking some men back to what is left of Lake-town to begin salvaging what we can. We could use your help, if you are willing."

"Of course. Give me a moment." She went back to the portico, opened her chest and retrieved the sword that Feren and Elros had brought to her. She fitted the leather rig that would hold the sword in a sheath along her spine, and slid her daggers into place at the small of her back. She preferred a bow over a sword, but in the unknown environment of Esgaroth's ruins, the sword would be easier to carry.

"I apologize for Tilda," Bard said as they left the city. "She is a very inquisitive child."

"There is no need for apology," Tauriel said. "She is a lovely girl." The open affection might continue to surprise her, but she found herself fond of the girl, and in some small way felt herself connected to all of Bard's children after stopping the Orc attack and getting them out of the burning wreckage of Esgaroth.

A dozen or so men made the long trek through the valley and toward the lake, a couple of them pulling carts that had been salvaged from Dale. One rode a horse, the same horse she had ridden to Erebor. Tauriel wondered how much they would be able to save from the wreckage.

"If you do not mind my asking," Bard began when they took to the water, "why would King Thranduil banish you from Mirkwood? It seems to me he would value strong warriors in his army."

Tauriel was quiet for a long moment. There was a part of her that did not want to answer, but the people of Dale already knew she had been banished, so there was not much point in hiding the reason, she supposed. "I left Mirkwood without his permission," she said. "He saw that as a betrayal, and that is something he could not stand for."

"But such a harsh punishment when your actions saved lives…"

There was no humor in the slight upturn of Tauriel's lips. She remembered Thranduil telling the Orc they had captured that he did not care if Kili died. "If he had known that I left Mirkwood not just to hunt down an Orc pack but to save Kili's life, his punishment likely would have been harsher."

"Yes, you cannot live in these lands without knowing of the rift between elves and dwarves." Bard shook his head. "You have a connection to both now. Tell me, will Thranduil regroup and come back to Erebor if he does not get what he wants from the dwarves?"

"Likely, yes," Tauriel said. "Although Kili is going to do his best to convince Thorin to not only give Thranduil what he desires, but to give you and your people what was promised to you."

"There are rumors that Thorin Oakenshield is dead, or near death."

"He was near death," Tauriel confirmed. "He awoke only last night."

"And will this dwarf of yours be able to convince him to reach into his treasure hoard to ensure peace?"

"I do not know." Tauriel thought of Thorin as a difficult man, one scarred by old wounds and hard to predict. He had lashed out at her in anger, but he had also risked his own life to ensure the welfare of his nephews. She knew from Kili that he had been taken by dragon sickness before the battle, and did not know what sort of scars such a thing could leave on a person's soul. "I hope he can."

The ruins of Esgaroth were haunting when they reached the town. Charred shadows and skeletal remains of what had once been shops, homes. Lives. Though the smoke had long since dissipated, the air still smelled of burning. It was different, so different than it had been when she had come here in the dark, Tauriel thought. The night had hidden the sheer scale of the devastation, as had her own emotional nightmare.

The small procession of boats was quiet as they rowed their way deeper. They were somber, mourning the loss that was sharply glaring in the cold and hazy winter sunlight. Tauriel thought she smelled snow on the air, though she hoped it would hold off until this grim business was completed.

Many of the waterways were clogged with debris, and going was slow. "Be careful, be vigilant," Bard warned everyone. "Spread out, and salvage anything we can use. The long winter is only beginning."

Bard eased their boat to a stop several minutes later, and they both climbed out onto the walkway outside his former home. There were scorch marks on the walls, but the fires had somehow avoided the building before burning themselves out.

Tauriel stood still, frowning, looking all around, and Bard stopped when he was halfway up the staircase. "What is it?"

She thought of Erebor's treasure hoard, and the possibility that Kili would not be able to convince Thorin to dip into it to aid the people of Dale. She shook her head. "As we were rowing through the town, the night the dragon came, we were hit and nearly run over by another boat, a barge overweighted with gold. I suspect the large man with the elaborate robe onboard it was none other than the so-called town master."

"Fleeing to safety with the wealth of the town," Bard said bitterly. "No doubt he will have a comfortable life wherever he goes, if brigands do not find him and take it from him first."

But Tauriel was not so sure of that. "They were carrying so much weight they were barely afloat. Moving slowly." She brought her memory of that night back into her mind. She tried to picture which direction the gold-laden barge had been going. Tried to visualize the movements of the dragon. But she did not know the town well enough. She needed a better vantage point.

She looked up toward the roof of Bard's home. With a nod to herself, she hurried up the rickety steps. She gripped the railing and leaped up onto it, then reached for the edge of the overhanging roof and swung up onto it. She climbed the slope of the roof, nimbly avoiding the large holes the attacking Orcs had dropped through.

The height gave her a panoramic view of the devastation. Her breath caught. The destruction was nearly complete, so stark and colorless under the hazy gray of the sky. And yet there in the distance, on the other side of the lake, was the green of Mirkwood. The good green that had not yet succumbed to the spreading darkness. Her home.

Or at least it had been.

She looked away. There was no use longing for something that was no longer hers. She had a purpose now, to help the people of Dale rebuild. And she had Kili.

She wished for him suddenly, and wondered what he was doing. She wondered at Thorin's condition, and when she would be able to see Kili again. She supposed things would be different now that Thorin was recovering. He would lead the effort to rebuild Erebor, and how he led his people would color the entire area. The demands on Kili's time would be greater, likely making it harder for them to spend time together.

She shook her head. She needed to focus on the task at hand. She had possessed a great focus once; deserving the rank of captain in Thranduil's guard had demanded it. She could not forsake that skill now that the landscape of her world had changed. She needed her focus, perhaps even more than she had before, because now she did not have an army of elves to back her up.

She turned her attention back to scanning the ruins. She concentrated on the waterways, and retraced the path they'd taken that night, as best as she could remember it. She located what she thought was the spot, or near to it, where their boat had collided with the gold-laden barge. But she could not see far enough down the waterway to see if any evidence of its passage had been left behind.

She looked to her left. The structure next to Bard's home was still partially intact. If she could make it to the portion of the roof that still stood, she would have a clear view down the waterways and into the open lake. She stared at the charred, partially caved-in expanse of wood and slowly backed up along the length of Bard's roof.

"What are you doing?" he called up to her from the walkway below, craning his neck to catch a glimpse of her.

Instead of answering, she took a deep breath and ran swiftly to the edge, pushed off from the balls of her feet, and leaped across the expanse. She landed and felt the charred wood begin to give way beneath her feet, so she pitched herself forward and rolled twice until she came back to her feet. She let out another breath and took in her newly unobstructed view.

And she saw the prow of the barge emerging from the water at an odd angle.

Bard had gone back inside his home and was gathering clothing and supplies when Tauriel dropped back down onto the walkway and went inside. "Why did you do that?" he asked. "You could have fallen through."

She shook her head. "I found your golden barge, but you are going to have a difficult time recovering any riches left behind."

Bard frowned. "And why is that?"

"Because it was driven to the bottom of the waterway when the body of the dragon fell on top of it."

The work of recovering anything useful from the wreckage of the town was arduous and went on throughout the day. Aside from Bard's home and a few other structures that had survived relatively unscathed, there was little that could be salvaged. The mood was somber as they headed away from Esgaroth and back toward the shore. Tauriel felt the loss almost as keenly as the rest of them. She had never seen that sort of total devastation before. The chilled winter air was not the only reason she felt cold.

She looked up as they neared the shore, and her breath caught. Kili stood on the shore, watching the approach of the boats. She hadn't realized until that moment just how much she had needed to see him after the long and strenuous day. Her hand drifted to the pouch at her waist, and the rune stone still tucked inside.

When they hit the shallows she hopped out and helped Bard drag the boat up onto the sand. And then she went to Kili. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I came to find you, and they said you had gone to Lake-town. I was there as well. I watched it burning." He looked toward the ruined town in the distance and shrugged. "I waited for you to come back."

Her lips tipped up in a shaky smile. She walked a short distance down the beach and sat down on some washed-up debris. She looked up at him. "It looks worse in the daylight. The wreck and ruin of it. There is no life there. I spotted the body of the dragon, where it fell in one of the waterways when it died," she added.

He stepped up to her, took her face in his hands. She closed her eyes when he tipped his forehead to hers, then simply wrapped her arms around him and held on. "I have lived more than six hundred years, and I have never seen the like," she murmured. "And then I saw Mirkwood in the distance."

He brushed the backs of his fingers gently down her cheek. She looked up at him. "However long it takes, we will all rebuild. We will find our places in this world."

Tauriel leaned in and touched her lips to his. For all his youth and claims of recklessness, there was a streak of compassion and wisdom inside him. They would all rebuild, but she had needed to hear the words aloud. The images of Esgaroth's wreckage were burnt deep into her, but here was Kili, good, alive and whole. Here was a man who loved her, and proved to her that though she had lost a great deal since leaving Mirkwood that last fateful time, she had perhaps gained even more.