Hello!

It's so good to be back! I hope everyone is well!

There is actually a lot about this chapter that I love. We get an adorably awkward Fili and Brili moment and a surprisingly sentimental moment later. I'd love to know what you guys thought of this one! Feel free to share should the spirit move you.

As always, special thanks to RivvyElf over at Ao3 for their fine help as my beta. I cannot thank them enough for coming back, even after all the suffering I put them through chapter after chapter. A true, majestic beta!

Enjoy and I will see you all again on or around the 25th!

Kim

The Midsummer mock tournament was always the highlight of the Midsummer festival. Rounds of the tournament took place during the daytime, giving way to merriment and good fun in the evenings. The night before the semifinals, Rivendell's residents eagerly placed casual bets on who would boast the title of Maethor or Warrior in the common tongue. Aragorn was usually a shoo-in for the title, Brili had learned.

Only that morning, a number of those residents who had placed sure-fire bets that Aragorn would once again be the reigning champion were sorely disappointed to learn that their prized champion was replaced with "the little dwarf that was always pining after Lady Arwen." Brili could still hear the indignant muttering from where she stood just outside the arena. She wished that a few of them would stop calling her dirty. She put a lot of effort into smelling fresh.

It was hardly her fault that fate had put her in a body more prone to musk than theirs might be.

She frowned as she eyed the array of practice weaponry laid out for her. Of course, the tournament forbade authentic weaponry. Still, the game master, likely influenced by Aragorn, did not restrict what type of weapons could be used. Once Brili made her selections, the wooden practice weapon would be wrapped in linen and doused in red paint. The goal was simple: she had to strike her opponent in a fatal spot and leave a clear, unquestionable line of paint. How she got to that point was her prerogative.

From the corner of her eye, she regarded her opponent. Most elves were lean and somewhat lanky, and Algar was no different. Still, his build should not distract her. As one of the upper-ranking members in Elrond's guard, he could easily sweep the floor with her, even on her best day. As a short and stout fighter, she often had to resort to various forms of trickery to take down her prey. This would be no different.

Shields were not allowed. Obviously, they weren't using real weapons. Still, she needed some defense to compensate for her stature. The year before, she'd dislocated her knee trying to trip her opponent. It had taken both Aragorn and the captain of the armed guard to pin her down long enough for it to have been reset. Even then, she'd managed to bite the captain hard enough to leave a neat row of tooth-sized bruises in her wake. She wasn't keen on suffering another injury like that, but the strategy had been pretty sound; her odds of hitting a vital organ were much better if she could bring her opponent down to her level. To that end, she wrapped her left hand around a spear and her right around a knife. With her decision final, she handed the weapons off to an attendant to be prepared for the game.

"You have selected your weapons?" the overseer called out as she approached him in the center of the ring.

She followed his gaze to the crowd where she could see the stands and the lawn beginning to fill out with onlookers. To her displeasure, several shorter, bearded faces were in the crowd this year. If her uncle wasn't there now, then she was confident that someone in the company would be going to fetch him shortly.

"I have," she finally answered. "Spear and short blade."

He regarded her, a sharp eye assessing her. "Different from last year's choice. Your opponent is Algar, a chain mace and a short blade."

She already knew that she'd seen him making his selection. Fortunately for her, she and Algar got on quite well. As if summoned by the conversation, her opponent sauntered over to them gracefully.

"Ah, Ranger, a fine day to compete," he said genially, tying his brown hair into a low knot at the base of his neck.

She nodded, holding her hand out to shake his. "It's a pleasure to test my skills against you, Algar."

His larger hand wrapped around her's. "I am eager to see what the young master's student has in store for me. I've not forgotten when you were so green around your ears that he shut down the practice yard for two moons to sort you."

Brili blushed brightly. "I hope I don't disappoint you."

~o~

"I knew she was lying," Kili grumbled petulantly as he strolled beside Fili. "There is no way she wouldn't have known about this festival."

Fili regarded him irritably; he'd long grown tired of listening to Kili's endless complaints. Ever since they'd discovered that their sister was not dead but alive and well, his brother had become insufferably annoying. On some level, he understood why. Kili had taken Brili's disappearance poorly and had proudly dealt with the mockery that followed his insistence that they would someday find her alive. To find her now and to see that Brili had essentially replaced the family that had searched for her with a group of elves was…

Well, it was an insult, to say the least, but Fili was tired of hearing Kili complain regardless.

"Even if she did not tell you about the festival, you still found out about it," he reminded Kili, nodding his chin to a satchel of candied nuts in his left hand. "You haven't missed out on anything."

Kili huffed out of his nose. "That's hardly the point, Fi."

The two of them strolled towards an area of Rivendell they'd yet to explore but had begun to amass quite the crowd. The village's inhabitants mostly spoke elvish, so it was anyone's guess what was happening over here. However, based on the bags of coin being wagered, Fili figured some competition was going on. Perhaps an extension of the one he'd caught snippets of the past few days.

"I don't like who she's become," Kili continued, not that Fili had asked him to. "Have you seen the way she fawns over these elves? It's like she intends to stay with them."

"She very likely does," Fili answered distracted, attempting to peer around the crowd to see what all the commotion was about.

"And what is Uncle thinking, allowing her to join the company like she's done nothing wrong? I had to work hard to earn my spot."

"We both had to," Fili reminded him. "I'm sure her skills will pass muster once we can test them. They seemed solid enough when she was working with us undercover."

Kili scowled at him. "You still don't get it. She's different , Fi. The Bri, I remember, used to get excited to spend time with us. Now she's kind of a—"

"Lads! Over here!"

Bofur's cheerful call and wave interrupted whatever Kili was about to say, and Fili was too happy to indulge that interruption. With a mumble, he steered his increasingly annoying younger brother towards a corner of the stands where a few company members had taken seats. To Fili's relief, most elves gave them a wide berth. The ones that weren't didn't seem to pay them any mind.

"Ah, Fili, Kili," Balin called out, stroking his fluffy white beard. "I don't suppose you might know where Thorin is by chance?"

Fili shook his head, sliding over to sit beside Dwalin, who glared at the arena in his usual Dwalin-esque fashion. "If anything, I would expect him to be with you."

Balin's expression dimmed. "A shame, I should think he'd like to see this…"

"See what?"

Dwalin grunted loudly before nodding his head at the arena. Fili turned to investigate what " his uncle would have wanted to see " and immediately came to the same conclusion as Balin. Standing in the center of the arena, conversing without a care in the world, was none other than his sister.

Strange, was she filling in for the game's overseer?

"Is she the referee?" he asked Balin, noting with a sigh the way Kili's arms crossed over his chest and the glare in his eye.

"Well, no, I shan't think so… From what I've gathered from the conversations around us, it appears she's a stand-in competitor this year."

Fili's brow raised. Women did not often compete in physical competitions back at home, nor any other dwarven stronghold he knew of, namely because they were treated as preciously as the finest jewel. Allowing an injury to befall a maiden went against the code that dwarves lived by. So that explained why Dwalin looked a bit pricklier than usual.

"You said she was a stand-in?" Kili asked. "For who?"

Balin shrugged, "I do not recognize the name. Only that he was the expected winner. The crowd's not very pleased."

"She's going to get hurt before we can even get out of here," Kili grumbled darkly. "One of us ought to drag her out."

Bofur clapped a hand over Kili's shoulder. "Come on, lad, let the girl have her fun. No one's suffered too much damage from this tournament."

Fili felt that Kili's insistence was less related to Brili's safety and more in punishing her over his numerous complaints. He shot Bofur a relieved glance, who beamed at him from over Kili's head.

After Brili's disappearance, Bofur had become a surrogate brother to the both of them. However, moments like that one reminded Fili why Bofur had been the one to win Thorin's approval for Brili's betrothal. He really would have been an excellent match for their sister…

Movement from the center caught Fili's attention, and he turned to watch as Brili and her opponent, a tall, dark-haired elf, shook hands. The referee had stepped back from the pair and held his arms out wide, gesturing with his fingers as if summoning someone. That action became clear momentarily as two elves entered the arena to give the competitors, who had moved to opposite ends of the ring, wooden weapons dripping thick red paint into the sand.

Brili was handed a spear and a sheathed knife, which she tied to her belt.

"Look," Nori announced excitably, "it's about to begin!"

Kili shifted uncomfortably beside him, but Fili made it a point to put his brother out of his mind for the time being. He didn't have the attention span required at the moment to work on fixing his younger sibling's tattered relationship. He needed to assess whether his sister's skills would serve her well on the road ahead. If, for any reason, they didn't, he had no choice but to follow his uncle's original plan and return home with her and Kili.

For his sake, he hoped that Brili's boasting had some merit behind it.

A loud gong sounded behind him, causing him to startle only because he hadn't been expecting it.

Brili shot forward towards her target, the spear in her grip and determination in her eyes. The elf dodged her easily, but, to Fi's surprise, it looked like his sister had anticipated the move because she swung her spear back to smack him in the hip. The elf grimaced but retained his composure enough to distance themselves and regroup. Grinning widely enough to be seen from where they were sitting, Brili twirled her mock weapon over her head to bring it to the right side of her body.

Well, she always did have a thing for showmanship, as unnecessary as it was.

The fight continued like this, both making moves to attack and the other dodging gracefully out of the way. The elf had taken a couple more thwacks with the blunt end of the spear, and Brili had a splotch of red on her left shoulder from a successful hit from her opponent. Fortunately, the referee did not consider a shoulder wound a mortal blow, and the fight continued.

Her footwork had improved tremendously, Fili noted. The sister he had trained in the Blue Mountains had been blessed in the art of stumbling. The girl who was competing had no such issue. Someone in Rivendell had put a noticeable effort into refining the few fighting skills he had imparted to her throughout their childhood. All in all, she wasn't half bad…

She might be all right with them if they were all careful.

Dwalin let out a frustrated sigh as Brili dodged yet another too-close-for-comfort attack from her opponent and attempted to strike his knees. "Unnecessary risks, that one."

Fili nodded, fingers burrowing in his beard to scratch his chin like he often did when thinking. "You would think that with the spear, she'd be trying to keep her distance."

As if she could hear them from the stands, Brili made another dash towards her opponent. If Fili didn't know any better, he would have sworn she'd done that to spite them. Her opponent swung his mace again.

Only this time, instead of dodging away from it, Brili lurched towards it. In a move that Fili wouldn't have seen if he had blinked, Brili brought her spear, clutched in both hands, up while arching her back away from the smooth, wooden practice mace. The mace wrapped itself around her spear shaft, and Brili yanked her opponent down to the ground with a nasty little grin.

The elf fell into Brili with a notable amount of grace.

A moment later, the referee was waving his arms around, a whistle shrieking loudly over the energetic murmurs of the crowd.

Even Kili, who had been so cross before the match, had stood up in all the excitement. Brili and her opponent were hunched together in a heap, shoulders rising and falling as they attempted to reign in their breathing. Fili could not put his finger on the expression on his sister's face. Of course, he had seen her happy and proud before, but this was a look that he couldn't quite define.

As the ref approached the pair, Brili tipped over to flop onto her back in the dust. Across her chest, just over her heart, was a streak of red paint, standing out brightly against her beige tunic. Fili winced sympathetically. She had lost…

And she was… laughing about it?

The reason behind her laughter became apparent when the other contestant, an equally entertained grin on his face, turned around with a slash of red across his throat just before the official announced that the game had ended. Her opponent won but only just. It was a close match indeed.

"A word," an unrecognizable voice sounded behind him, "if you don't mind."

Fili had one of his many, many knives in his grip within the second as he twisted in his seat. Perched behind him in the stands was a hooded figure with broad shoulders. A stubbled, square jawline quirked as the mysterious man smirked at him. He raised his calloused hands in a gesture of surrender.

"You really are siblings," he mused, his quiet tone not diminishing his amusement.

"I know you," Kili sneered next to Fili. Fili shifted his eyes to look at his younger brother without sacrificing his defensive stance. "You're the one that Brili keeps following around. You're the reason she's like this."

The man's grin grew widely enough to display his teeth. "I would not allow her to hear that sentiment if I were you."

It looked like Kili would say something else, so Fili strategically interrupted. "What do you want, ranger?"

"To discuss my protégé's continued training while she's under your watch."

Fili's right brow quirked upward. "You are the one that taught her how to fight?"

The hooded figure nodded. "She's a fine student. Eager to learn. Still clumsy, so be sure to run some balance-related exercise with her frequently to keep her sharp."

Solemnly—ignoring Kili and now Dwalin's glare—Fili tucked his knife back into its spot. Next, with a firm thump against his chest, he placed a fist over his heart before kneeling into a low bow. Behind him, he could hear Bofur mumbling something meant to pacify Kili, who likely wouldn't understand what Fili was doing. If anything, he was about to piss Kili off.

But this had to be said…

"Thank you," he murmured lowly, sincerely, "for taking care of my sister in my absence."

A warm hand gripped his shoulder, calluses scratching his linen shirt as the stranger offered a firm squeeze. "None of that. Your sister needed no care. Her resiliency and determination are unmatched."

Was that so?

Fili cleared his throat before rising back to his feet. "Thank you, regardless."

The man nodded, but his eyes shifted towards the ring where Brili had excitedly drifted off to chat with a tall maiden with dark hair. Fili had seen his sister with that elf girl before. They must be friends.

"Let's discuss this somewhere more private. I am not supposed to be here... If she were to notice my presence…"

Fili chuckled, lifting a hand. "Say no more. You don't have to explain my sister's wrath to me."

~o~

Brili looked over her shoulder warily, fingertips brushing the key in her pocket. It didn't look like she'd been followed. Still, she couldn't be too careful in times like these. Her brief search confirmed that there was no dwarf, at least none she could see, so she hastily unlocked the door to her chambers and slipped inside.

Lately, it seemed like her room was the only respite available. After her brief stint in the mock tournament, she'd attempted to find a moment of solitude only to find a dwarf everywhere she turned. Brili hoped to avoid the inevitable fact that soon her uncle would be calling for their departure. It was coming soon; she could practically feel it in her bones. The only thing she did not know was when that would be. Or if she would ever be ready for it.

No, she knew in her heart that she would never be ready to leave this place.

She sucked in a deep breath, the summer air carrying the aroma of the gardens nearby, trying to inhale the scent of home , to imprint it to memory. To tattoo it in her mind so that she'd never truly lose it. Opening her eyes, she fondly surveyed her quarters as she shrugged off the decorative outer tunic Arwen had insisted she wear post-tournament.

Secretly, she was happy that Aragorn had requested that she take his place. It had been a good match, and she was pleased with her performance this year. No dislocated kneecaps this time around; she could be happy for that. Arwen had asked Brili if she would like to accompany her to the final match, but Brili had declined, claiming tiredness. But, she wasn't tired; energy buzzed under her skin. No, she was simply not in the mood to socialize.

Maybe she would go to the practice yard for a bit to work out some of this—

That wasn't there before…

She couldn't remember leaving a money purse on her admittedly underused writing desk. Crossing the room, she reached out to inspect the pouch, which jingled as she bounced it in her palm. Unbidden, a smile crept up her cheeks, as one might expect from a dwarf suddenly coming upon a stash of money they hadn't anticipated.

"Now, where did you come from?" she asked.

Her tone was honeyed as if this little satchel would flutter away at the slightest provocation like a sparrow. Brili's eyes drifted back down to the desk to notice a folded sheet of parchment just to the right of where the sack of coin had been. With her left hand greedily gripping her prize, she raised a scrap of paper towards the fading sunlight by the window.

Payment for services rendered. May these funds serve you well on your future travels.

Ah, Gandalf had finally gotten around to paying her after—

Three firm knocks on the door startled her into dropping the note. It fluttered down, scraping quietly against the floor when it landed. She didn't move to answer it, as if she knew what was waiting for her on the other side of that door. Her heart began to pound.

This was it…

The visitor knocked thrice again. She must have been followed after all; if she had to guess, it would be Kili. For someone so boisterous at times, he could be extraordinarily sneaky.

The memory of tackling him to the ground in Elrond's office entered her mind; she could feel her anger burning her ears.

She really didn't want to see him.

More knocking, and this time, Fili's voice, muffled by her door, followed it. "Brili?"

Shit. If it's not one, then it's the other. I forgot how annoying those two could get…

Still clinging to her bag of coin, she shuffled to the door. He'd been tailing her. There was no way he'd be so confident that this was her room if he hadn't been. As much as she'd rather not open the door, he likely had pertinent information regarding their departure.

"Well, this feels familiar…" she heard Fili mumble as she cracked the door open.

To his credit, Fili's expression perked a bit when he saw her. Her eyes scanned the background. He appeared to be alone…

"What?" she asked him warily.

Fili held a bag of candied nuts out. "Peace offering. Can I come in?"

No.

"Just you?"

A nod. "Yeah, just me."

She reached out with her free hand to accept his offer, nudging the door open with her foot and nodding as casually as possible to invite him inside. Fili stepped past her, and, with one more paranoid glance behind her, Brili shut the door. Her brother's head shifted, first to the left and then to the right, as he took in his surroundings. Brili crossed her room to place her money bag on her bedside table before gesturing for Fili to sit on the settee.

"These are your lodgings?" he asked, his eyes roaming as he sat.

"Yeah…"

"They are nice," he offered. "Looks very open… lots of windows…"

"Thanks…"

An awkward silence passed between them, and Brili began to pick at the sugared nuts to fill the lapse in conversation.

"You did well, um"—Fili cleared his throat—"I meant today… during the tournament."

Brili allowed her eyes to meet his for the first time in… Mahal, she couldn't even remember how long it had been. That acknowledgment meant more than she cared to admit, and, despite herself, she could feel a proud blush creep up her cheeks.

"Thank you," she finally said, shifting her eyes back towards the ground and safer territory.

"I never knew you liked the spear."

"I don't," she said matter-of-factly. "Algar almost always goes for the chain mace, so I wanted to try and use it against him. I can use one, but they aren't my favorite."

"Makes sense…"

More silence ensued, punctuated by Brili occasionally crunching on a nut. She was beginning to wish that Fili would just get to the damn point of his visit already. For lack of anything else to do, she slid off of her bed to open the bedside table's drawer. After rummaging, she found a packet of matches and lit some candles around the room. Fili had remained silent the whole time.

It suddenly occurred to her that this was their first time alone together since the night she'd left home.

Things really have changed a lot since then…

"If that's all…" she forced out, looking at him over her shoulder.

He shook his head. "Uncle wants you to join the rest of us for the evening."

Brili's eyes narrowed, and she sighed, "So we are departing."

"I don't know," Fili answered. Upon seeing the skeptical look on her face, he raised his hands in a pacifying gesture. "I don't, Bri. He hasn't said anything to me."

"Quit lying. I am sharper than that now."

"Honestly, he hasn't. But, if I had to guess, we will be soon. I would ready myself if I were you."

"I'm not packed. My pony isn't ready either."

That was a weak excuse. If she wanted, she could be ready within the hour. It was one of the first things that Aragorn had taught her. A true Ranger needed to be prepared to leave at a moment's notice.

"We will be traveling on foot from now on. Don't worry about excess provisions. Uncle will be providing anything you need. Do you know where we've been staying?"

Great, she couldn't even keep Borias…

Her hand brushed the pendant that Aragorn had given her the day before. Soon this trinket and her clothing would be all she had left to remember Rivendell. A mirthless laugh escaped her as she fleetingly thought she'd even be happy to take one of Arwen's dresses with her.

Wait, what was she thinking? She hated being stuffed into those dresses. Perhaps she was being over-sentimental after all.

Sentimentality would get her nowhere. These would not be her last days in Rivendell; this pendent assured that. After her uncle took Erebor, she would return to Rivendell one way or another. Nothing would stop her… Knowing this, Brili would treat this trip just like any other assignment.

Pushing her resolve and professionalism to the forefront, she turned to Fili. "Give me an hour. I'll be ready."

~o~

As it turned out, it was one thing for her to tell herself she was ready to face the company again and another for her to do so.

She knew the location of the dwarves; how could she not? They were so noisy that she'd have to be deaf not to be able to track their location. And, as she'd assured Fili, it had only taken her an hour to gather her things. Most of her supplies, clothing, weaponry, and her bedding had already been packed in preparation for a future assignment. Being busy had helped her take her mind off the discomfort of what was to come, but now that she was packed and approaching where the dwarves had made their accommodations, she had run out of ways to distract herself.

They were chatting merrily, loud laughter interspersed with more subdued muttering. Brili remained crouched by a nearby wall, unable to muster the courage she needed to take those final steps.

Mahal, she'd nearly punched Kili in the face the last time she'd seen him…

It wouldn't be a shock if he attempted to do the same upon seeing her again.

There was a quiet shuffling of booted feet ahead of her moments before Balin's voice called out to her. "Ah! Good evening, young grace."

Brili could go her whole life without ever being referred to under any other royal title and be perfectly satisfied. She peered up at him from where she was leaning against the wall. Balin was a relatively easy place to start if she had to reacquaint herself with the company.

"Please don't call me that," she said quietly. "I'm the same as the rest of you now."

Balin's genial smile did not falter. "I'd say not."

"We'll all taste the same to Smaug."

Balin rocked back and forth on his heels for a moment after that statement. Brili did not know much about Balin outside his role as her former tutor, but she certainly knew he wasn't stupid; he understood the implications of Thorin's plan. If that dragon were still alive in the mountain, there wouldn't be a dwarf left standing when they woke him.

Still, ever the humble loyalist, Balin asked her, "You believe it will come to that?"

She snorted. "I'm no soothsayer… But even I know better than encroaching on a dragon's treasure hoard."

"Your friend, the wizard, seems to think we stand a chance."

Brili could feel her frown deepen. "Gandalf is not my friend. He was my employer. And Gandalf doesn't have to worry about the risk; it's not his head on the block."

"Your uncle will allow no harm to befall you. You needn't worry yourself," Balin said, a gloved hand reaching out and squeezing her shoulder.

Immediately, as if it were a reflex, Brili shrugged her shoulder out of his gentle grip, glaring up at the older dwarf in a warning. "It's not my head I'm worried about or even his. If Thorin is stupid enough to get himself burnt to a crisp, then it's not my problem."

He tucked his thumbs into his belt and rocked again. "You do not fear for your own life, lass?"

A warm breeze brushed between them, shifting Brill's bangs across her forehead, her forelocks tickling her nose. Was she afraid of the threat Smaug posed? She should be… Anyone with half of a brain would know to fear a dragon. So why was it that when she thought of the dragon, she felt nothing while her fear of her uncle and brothers was enough to send shivers crawling up her arms like little spiders? The only reasonable conclusion she could come to was that she was a coward.

And a spineless one at that.

Inclining her head towards Balin, patiently awaiting her answer to his unassuming question, she murmured, "I fear not for my life but Thorin son of Thrain has already broken my spirit once."

Balin nodded, not in agreement if the look on his face was anything to go by, but at least in understanding. The pair stood, or in Brili's case crouched, in silence for several breaths between them. Her hands were clenched into defensive fists, an automatic reflex to the discomfort her words revealed. Why had she said such a stupid thing? Such sentimentality was supposed to be behind her.

More footfalls rounded the corner as she was about to warn Balin to keep his bearded trap shut about what she'd just said. Balin was unfazed by the new intrusion, but Brili's crouch shifted so she could quickly grab her knife. If it was that rat Bofur, then she'd sooner stab him than allow him to—

Bilbo's hairy feet preceded his mop of brown curls around the bend. He startled briefly when spotting them as if he'd expected the path to the dwarves' accommodations to be empty. However, he beamed cheerfully at her once he met Brili's eyes.

"Ah! It's you!" he chirped brightly. "I was hoping you'd be joining us soon!"

Brili blinked at him, a natural response from the time she'd spent in his company in complete silence. The hobbit looked between the two dwarves with remarkable patience for one who expected polite conversation. When it finally occurred to him that Brili had no intention of responding, he wrinkled his nose at her.

"If you've forgotten, we are all aware of your ability to speak now," he tutted. "Your days of silence have come and gone, I should think."

Brili's brow quirked at him. "You think?"

Upon hearing her speak, the hobbit grinned again. And once again, Brili was struck with the unwelcome realization that she and Bilbo might have become friends had they met under different circumstances. She was ill-inclined to befriend anyone in the company she was now uncomfortably forced to keep… But Bilbo might not be so bad…

More footfalls from behind her now interrupted whatever Bilbo had been about to say to her. Looking as scraggly as ever, Bifur shuffled towards them, grunting loudly in Khuzdul about supper. His inability to speak in anything but Khuzdul left Bilbo looking confused. Meanwhile, Balin nodded and clapped his hands together before waddling towards the soft glow of firelight around the bend. After another round of severe grunting, Bifur followed.

Bilbo hadn't caught on to Bifur's message.

Sighing reluctantly, Brili informed him, "That was the supper bell."

The look of confusion lifted to reveal a look of smothered elation. "Oh! I see. Since it's your first night here, I'll lead the way."

Brili shook her head. "I'd rather not—"

"You've arrived," Thorin's voice called from the brush behind her.

Brili grimaced. She should have known Balin would rat her out; it wasn't the first time. Muttering a soft curse in Sindarin, she shifted to address him. Thorin's hand on her shoulder steered her out of her hiding spot.

Just treat this like any other job. I can do this.

"Come, the others have been expecting you. Balin was arranging a plate for you when I left."

"Lucky me," she grumbled, looking over her shoulder at Bilbo and wishing he would find some clever way to rescue her.

"I suggest eating your fill tonight. Once we depart before dawn, we will not have the luxury of such a robust menu."

Her stomach twisted and vanquished any appetite that she might have had. "What?"

Thorin did not look at her when he answered. "We are leaving before dawn. We've wasted too much time. Erebor awaits."

Our doom awaits…