Betta dreamed that she stood on the tall wall beyond her father's fields in Lebennin. She often stood on that wall, holding tight to the branches of the tree that grew nearby and looking east toward the Black Land. It seemed a long time ago that her uncles had gone away with the other men to join the armies of Lossarnach and strengthen the guard on the shores of Anduin. Pirate ships had been seen in the southern waters and men were coming up from the south, perhaps from Harad. The once beautiful city of Osgiliath had been raided so often that the very stones of its walls were crumbling and wild men trespassed through the gardens of Ithilian.

Her mother had hated for her to stand on that wall, and her father would order her down whenever he saw her, but on this day, neither mother nor father had been there to see. They were in the village with the others, watching the bodies of the men being carried home on their shields. Her uncles were dead, but their bodies had been lost to the river; their shields were returned empty to Lebennin, and their broken swords were with them.

In her dream, Betta stood on the wall and looked east, but she did not raise her eyes to the Black Land. She was looking down at the road that wound north from Pelargir in the hopes that she might see her uncles striding back across the fields, tall and proud, and their dark hair blowing in the wind, their grey eyes laughing as they had on the day they had marched away. In her dreams, a wind blew out of the east and shook the branches of the tree. She lost her hold and fell from the wall...

.

Betta felt herself shaken awake. She drew her knife, but a hand was on her wrist before she could use it. "It's time for your watch," Kili whispered.

She blinked and against the light of the fire she recognized his shape. He let go of her arm, and she put the knife back in its sheath. She scowled at him, angry that he had been able to catch her off her guard and to stop her arm so easily. He only shrugged.

"I may not speak to trees," he said, "but I know better than to wake a woman who sleeps with a blade for a pillow. Take your watch."

"Watch?" Betta was tire and felt she was being made a fool for not understanding. If it was so, then Kili was too tired to laugh at her.

"Stand guard," he said, covering a yawn. "Try not to let us be murdered by orcs as we sleep." He stumbled away and lay down beside his brother. He was asleep almost immediately.

Betta sat up and looked around. The night was quiet. She hadn't heard or seen sign of any animal beyond themselves and their ponies. The night was much colder now than it had been when she had gone to sleep, and she shivered as she sat wrapped in her blanket with her hood pulled up over her head. The fire died down to a few glowing embers, but she moved closer to them rather than feeding the flames. She considered cutting a few spare arrow shafts from the sticks at hand, but she knew that her fingers were too cold to safely hold the knife.

.

Morning was long in coming, but when it did, Betta was glad to be awake to watch the sun rise over the gray horizon. The red and gold play of light against cloud warmed her, and though the air was cold, it was clear. She stood up, stretching her aching arms and legs. In the night, she had been able to hear the quiet voice of a stream on the other side of the ridge under which they sheltered and now she took the pan from the ground near Fili's elbow and went to fill it.

The embers from last night's fire were still glowing when she returned, and she fed them twigs and sticks until they were hot enough to warm the water. By the time the dwarves were awake, Betta was washing her face and hands with a cloth that steamed in the cold morning air.

"I thought you two meant to sleep the day away," she said to them.

Fili stared at her. Kili was just as surprised as his brother, but seeing hot water ready, he smiled. "Good morning," he said, and accepted the cloth from her hands to wipe the night from his face and neck. The warmth felt good after the cold, and in no time the dwarves were talking merrily back and forth as they cooked the breakfast meal.

Betta listened as she packed her bag and tied the straps that held her bow and quiver to her pack. She found herself remembering her own brothers and the way they would talk carelessly together, laughing and making jabs at each other in the barnyard as they did their morning chores. She murmured to her pony and patted his neck. He whinnied and nuzzled against her shoulder.

At the fire, Fili had made the morning porridge. He filled two bowls and handed both to Kili. When his brother looked at him curiously, he nodded to Betta who stood apart from them. "I brought her dinner last night," he said. "It is your turn to feed our woman."

Kili did not smile at his joke. "Perhaps, but you have more ground to make up for with her," he said. "She does not like you, brother."

Fili shrugged. "I do not need her to like me, only to bring us both to the treasure we seek. So long as we bring home proof of an adventure to Thorin, she can like or hate us as she pleases."

Kili took the bowls, but he said, "It is not both of us that she will hate."

Fili watched his brother go. From the beginning, he had told himself that Kili was right and that he should try to be more friendly, but his mind was on the goal of their journey, not the journey itself. Now that he had convinced the woman to set out with them, his thoughts had returned to his uncle, and he knew that Thorin was alone in the halls of Ered Luin still staring at his maps. What did it matter to him that he and the woman would never be friends?

Betta stood beyond the ridge, her face turned south east toward the sunrise and the falling stream of the Little Lhun. Many hundreds of leagues beyond that were the flowering fields and white shores of Lebennin. Kili brought her the bowl of porridge, but he had to speak twice before she heard him.

"Thank you," she said, taking the food gladly. She sat down where she was and began to eat.

Kili looked back at his brother. Fili was among the ponies, checking the saddles and arranging their baggage. Kili knew that he should eat quickly and then go to help him, but he sat down beside Betta, crossing his legs under him as she did. He was more used to eating at a table than on the ground, but he was beginning to learn.

She looked at him. "You do not need to pretend to be sociable with me," she told him. "I am used to my own company."

"I begin to wonder," he said. "How did you survive in the wild if you do not know how to make a fire or to keep watch at night?"

"I did not say that I do not know how to make a fire," she said. "I traveled through the south where there is little need for the heat of fire even in the night," she explained. "One person can travel faster and lighter, and will attract less attention than many, or three. With a strong arm and a safe camp, there is little need to set a watch. Also, I am a light sleeper."

"You were sound asleep last night when I woke you," he reminded her. "And the kitchen boy was in your room before you woke to find him there."

Betta scowled. "That would not have happened if it weren't for your brother," she said. "It was he who insisted we stay at an inn, and he was the one who held out my pearl for all to see, practically begging some thief to take it!"

"And he feels the guilt of that mistake. If he will not apologize, and you will not forgive him, then we will all have a miserable journey and we had best get it over with." Kili stood up. He looked down at her and added, "I hope that you are able to look out for more than one. We are certain to meet with some exciting new danger after we enter the barren lands on the eastern side of the river, and you cannot be forever relying only on yourself."

They finished their breakfast, cleaned and packed up the bowls and mounted their ponies. Fili looked at his brother, but Kili said nothing of his conversation with Betta and Fili did not ask. As the three of them rode past the lonely, bare tree, Betta smiled sadly and raised her hand to it. She did not know that Kili had looked back and that he saw her. He did not smile but looked thoughtful. When Fili looked back at them both, Kili had turned his gaze ahead and Betta was looking east again, frowning into the wind.

.

The day passed and they made good time but when night came they once again camped under the open sky. Another fire and another night of watching in turns. And, although they knew better than to speak it aloud, each traveller wondered if, perhaps, the dangerous part of their journey had passed and they would have an easy ride after all.