Rhavaniel woke with a start. She had not intended to fall asleep - she had promised to take watch through the night. She had merely closed her eyes for a minute, listening to Kili's heartbeat while he slept. She had not realized she was so tired, and now her stomach was growling with hunger. She quietly slipped out from the bedroll, half dressed. A tug on her hair yanked her back. Kili had rolled over on the end of her braid. She gently pulled it out from under him.
She crept to the back window and looked all around. She then checked all of the cracks in the walls, and the broken doorway. There was no sign of anyone else on this peak, and no one on the ground below. She heaved a sigh of relief. She would have to be more careful.
She judged that is was past midnight. She decided to wake Kili a bit before dawn, and ask him take watch so that she could nap. She did not want to push herself so hard that she made another dangerous mistake.
She found another small jar of honey in the dark, and drank it down. She was still hungry. There were more jars in their packs, and plenty of cooked petty-dwarf roots, but she knew they needed to ration the food.
She looked up at the spiral staircase leading to the top of the tower. The wooden steps were rotted from rain and harsh weather, but the stone support column was undamaged. She had promised not to leave the tower, but they had not discussed staying on the ground level. Rhavaniel thought she might get a much better view from higher up. She put her bow and quiver over her shoulder, and began to climb.
Her eyes had adjusted to the dark, and there was a bit of moonlight coming in through the hole in the tower roof. She was able to scan each level quickly, with its open floor plan. It looked as though each level had a purpose - sleeping, pantry and kitchen, storage, and a little library that stank so much of mildew she was not tempted to reach for any of the books. The level that had once been the armory was stripped bare. Floorboards on every level were missing or rotted through.
The roof of last level was different. The boards were thicker here, and appeared to have been treated with some sealant. She tried to open the trap door, but it was locked, or covered with debris above. She would have to make a bouncing jump against a wall and crawl up through the gap made by the collapsed roof. She adjusted her bow and made the leap. When she emerged at the top level, she understood why that floor had been so sturdy - it was sound insulated to protect the rest of the tower residents. A great carillon hung from the top level of the tower. The residents of Dale and Erebor had timed their lives around these bells.
Rhavaniel cautiously examined the bells. The Men of Dale may have played them, but Dwarves surely crafted them from the ore in Lonely Mountain. Dwarf runes and spirals decorated them. They ranged from fist-sized round bells to a heavy bronze upside down tulip bell in the center of the room.
Rhavaniel walked to the tower opening that faced the City of Dale. This view was better. She thought she saw a flicker of light in an abandoned building. She moved close to take a second look. One of the small bells on the end of the carillon was tenuously hanging from the most rotten portion of supporting wood. Rhavaniel's bow tip grazed it as she leaned out over the window sill, and that was enough to break the bell loose and send it hurtling down the cliff.
Rhavaniel tried to catch it before it fell, but she was too late. The bell fell straight and soundless while Rhavaniel held her breath.
"May it land in a little pool of water, or soft grass," she prayed, "and not make a sound."
The bell struck rock, and rung with a delicate but unmistakable chime. It bounced, and bounced, and bounced again, making music as it rolled all the way into a side street of Dale.
"Did you hear that, Mister Dwalin?" Bilbo asked anxiously.