Author's Note: I've done it. They're finally out of Thranduil's Halls. And now it's on to Lake-town! I can't believe this is already the tenth chapter, it has been such fun writing this story. I want to apologize in advance for how this chapter ends, as it's a bit abrupt, but I didn't want to get too far past my usual word count and I figured it was as good a place to stop as any.

I had a lot of fun with this chapter mostly because of Bard. He is one of my favorites, especially after I've watched the third movie. I hope that I've done his character justice as I'm a little nervous about his interactions with Laura, since she can be different in her way of approaching people and problems than Bilbo.

I am so grateful for all of your favorites, follows, and reviews. I know I keep saying it, but it bears repeating: thank you all so much. I love hearing from all of you.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except Laura.

It was E-Day.

Escape-Day. Or Escape-Night, E-Night, whatever.

I shouldn't have been so stuck on the semantics, because whatever it was called, we were leaving. And I couldn't have been more thrilled.

I was so tired of the dark dungeons, of our guards, of the anxiety of plotting. I wanted out.

After the unexpected success, and outright relief, of my last excursion, I returned to Thorin with the news. And he actually smiled and said, "Well done, Master Baggins."

I was elated, though only for a short time. Soon I was back in the company of anxiety as we had to wait. Thorin was able to track the days and nights in a way I couldn't – according to Thorin, dwarves didn't need the sun to know the time of day– and insisted that we had only two more meals: a "breakfast" and a "dinner."

Thorin was a blessing, though I'd come to find after our weeks together that it no longer surprised me. As we waited during the final stretch between our last two meals, Thorin reminisced on how he and Dwalin had gotten into their first bar fight- black eyes, unsurprisingly, were in abundance that night – and told it in such a grave way it made me laugh. Thorin did surprise me then by looking pleased at the sound.

When our two elven guards came with our meal, it was obvious they were in a rush. They didn't speak at all, didn't stop to give me the usual assessing looks, and didn't wait for us to rise to take our food, instead leaving it in front of our doors.

I was unable to eat much, and so waited for Thorin to finish. Once he had, I broke down the order of freeing the others and we both agreed that I should wait a bit longer to make sure the elves left the dungeon. When Thorin gave me the go-ahead, I didn't hesitate to wedge myself through my cell bars with only a bit of a wheeze. I shared one last look with Thorin and ran.

It didn't take me long at all to find the armory-office, now that I knew where it was. There were no voices, no sound at all when I reached it. The keys were exactly where they were the last time. And so were Orcrist and Sting. The only hiccup was trying to juggle all three and I ended up tucking Orcrist and Sting together awkwardly under one arm before making my way back down through the dungeons, though this time a little more slowly. I refused to consider that it was too easy, or to spiral into worry. I was going to take this success happily.

I only dropped Sting once and Orcrist twice on my way back to Thorin, wincing each time. By the time I reached Thorin's cell door, I was glad to be rid of them and leaned them up against the wall to turn my full attention to the keys.

"Well done," Thorin said, low and pleased.

I let out a breathy sigh, almost a laugh, but kept my focus on the key ring. All of them looked too alike to me, so it would have to be a roulette to get the right one.

It took only four tries for me to find the key that matched Thorin's cell door. With an ominous creak the door swung open, allowing Thorin to step out of his cell for the first time in weeks – maybe even months.

I beamed up at Thorin, thrilled, until suddenly, Thorin was even closer, his arms coming up to envelope me. I froze, almost limp as Thorin's arms tightened, pulling against his chest, cheek pressed against his collarbone. The cold that had stayed with me all throughout the dungeons was washing away, leaving only warmth from Thorin's embrace.

Oh. My. God.

This was a hug. Thorin was hugging me. We were hugging. Well, not quite. I realized that my arms were still limp by my side but without another thought I reached up to return it, hands grasping tightly at his coat. I was even warmer now, and could feel Thorin breathing, deep and even.

How long had it been since I'd hugged anyone? Touched anyone for much longer than a few moments in passing? Definitely not since I arrived here, all those months – God, it had been months now- ago.

It was the best I'd felt since I arrived here, even better than when Thorin had offered an olive branch at the Carrock, and I hadn't thought that would be possible to beat.

Thorin still hadn't moved, hadn't made any indication that he waa ready to pull away so I selfishly held on. I pressed my face deeper into his shoulder. I was startled to find my eyes were beginning to sting, my shoulders shaking, even as all I felt was relief.

It was great reluctance that I finally pulled away, but I knew we couldn't stay like that forever. Thorin followed, one arm dropping when mine did, but the other shifted, holding on to my forearm, broad and warm. Thorin's eyes were soft when I met them, stepping back so we could look at each other fully.

"Thanks to you, Master Baggins," Thorin said, low and rumbling, "there is hope again."

I felt my throat close up, my eyes stinging again but I was able to offer a shaky smile. Thorin's words touched me deeply, burrowing next to my heart.

Together we took our swords and began our work to free the others.

Balin came first, joy dawning on his face as soon as we stepped into view. I fumbled with the keys for a bit but was able to get him out in a matter of minutes. Balin beamed at me, placing a hand on my shoulder in thanks before moving to greet Thorin with a gentle tap of their foreheads.

I waited until they both turned back to me before leading them off down the corridor to our second cell.

Kili's expression was one of abject shock. I hadn't risked circling back to him, the sight of Tauriel had been too surprising. I bit my lip to keep from laughing as he cried out, "Bilbo? Uncle?"

"Hush, nephew," Thorin said lowly from he'd stopped next to me, his tone equal parts affection and exasperation.

Kili grinned sheepishly, his eyes moving to me, then Thorin, then Balin then back again, "How in the world did you manage all this?"

"I'm as surprised as you are, Kili," I said, shaking my head as I tried the first key. Kili laughed.

Kili lunged at me as soon as the door swung open, crushing me tightly against his chest with a laugh. Before I could even think to reciprocate, Kili was already moving on to Thorin and then Balin, throwing his arms around each of them in turn.

I motioned for them all to follow and together we made our way quickly to Nori's cell.

I shook the keys at Nori as soon as we came into sight, and Nori to grin slyly at me through the bars where he was waiting.

"Any chance I might be able to get my hands on those when you're finished?" Nori asked as I found the correct key and unlocked his cell door.

I shrugged, hooking my arm through the keyring and pulling the cell door open. I didn't see the harm.

"Perhaps," Balin interjected, sounding amused, "It would be best not to incur any more ill-will from the Woodland folk after this business."

Nori's face fell as he stepped out but it quickly smoothed out as he touched a hand to his chest in Thorin's direction before letting Kili shake his shoulder, both of them grinning.

The dwarves still seemed content to follow my lead and there were no questions through the dark passages as we made our way to Oin and Gloin.

When I stepped into the light in front of their door, Kili eagerly close behind, they were wearing matching expressions of disbelief.

Gloin recovered quickly, letting out a booming laugh that Balin, Kili, and Nori all shushed. "By my beard, now if this isn't a sight to see!"

Oin wasn't smiling, exactly, but his expression was eager as he held up his ear-horn. Either he or Gloin had managed to mostly straighten it out back into a close approximation of its original shape. "What's this now?"

I tried not to let my irritation at the fact I was on my fifth try of a key for their door show. "We're leaving."

Oin frowned, unimpressed. "What does the time matter?" Gloin said a word in dwarvish, which I took to mean was a translation because Oin said, "Oh aye, leaving? Why didn't you say so laddie?"

It was a miracle that I stopped myself from rolling my eyes. The sound of Kili stifling a laugh was almost covered by the squeak of the cell door's hinges as it opened. Oin was absolutely messing with me for the fun of it, surely. My suspicion deepened when both of them stepped out, laughing as they each shook my shoulder before moving to the others.

We were becoming less discreet as we continued down the hall, the others were whispering behind me, only silenced by the occasional hiss from Thorin before starting back up again. If I hadn't seen for myself the lack of elves on my many laps around the dungeons, I would've snapped at them too.

When his cell door's lock clicked, Fili didn't even wait for it to finish swinging open to throw himself into Thorin's arms for a long embrace before moving to Kili for an even longer one. I'd accepted that the dwarves would want to do the rounds of reuniting with each other with each new dwarf, so I contented myself to wait, pushing the cell door shut and leaning against the bars.

Fili, once finished, turned to me and asked innocently, "What did I say?"

I didn't deign to answer, mostly because I didn't have one and my annoyance was flaring because of it. It flared again when I heard Kili whisper as we were moving up the staircase, "What did you say?"

Dwalin was, thankfully, much more efficient, and much more tolerable, when we reached him a minute or two later.

He was as impatient as Fili when I finally got the door open, already out punching Thorin in the shoulder while the door was still swinging open before turning to headbutt Balin so hard that I could hear when the bone collided. As I suspected, Dwalin didn't mind at all when I started down the hallway, though the dwarves were significantly louder as Dwalin continued to greet them all in turn as they fell in line behind me.

Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur were the furthest out of the way, but freeing them next meant we would be able to swing by for Dori and Ori on the way to the storeroom.

When we arrived, they were almost as sedate as Balin. Bofur grinned and shook my shoulder in delight before throwing himself at Fili and Kili, but he kept his laughter quiet. Bombur bowed shortly to Thorin, who nodded. Bifur merely nodded, saying something quietly to me in dwarvish as he passed me to join the others.

And then, finally, we all found ourselves crammed in the corridor that held Dori and Ori's cell. Ori was elated while Dori began tapping his foot after my third key attempt.

I grinned at them as I unlocked the door, stepping aside to allow them out. Dori bowed shallowly to Thorin and went to stand, arms folded, in front of Nori, surveying him. Ori quickly joined him, but pressed a hug onto Nori who returned it quickly.

If the dwarves had thrown discretion to the wind when there were only five of them, with all thirteen behind me it was an entire parade. While they did all seem to heed Thorin's warning to stay quiet this time and kept their voices low, with a dozen of them speaking to each other at once, it hardly made a difference.

So, when we finally reached the corridor with the sliver of warm light that signaled we'd arrived at the storeroom, I sighed in relief. I pushed the door open and the others didn't hesitate to follow. It was only after I passed the first shelf of wine bottles that I realized how large of a mistake I had made.

Elves. There were elves. Three of them, sitting at a table that I hadn't been able to clock from the doorway when I first found the room.

I froze, then stumbled slightly when Kili ran straight into me. To his credit, his arm came around my waist immediately, keeping me upright before he pulled away. I felt more than saw Kili shift next to me. It was probably a gesture to the others because they all fell deathly silent.

I didn't dare breathe, my mind reeling. What if they woke up? We wouldn't have to fight them, would we? Or, what, kidnap them?

Thankfully, after a few more seconds I was able to determine that the three elves were, at least by all appearances, passed out. There were several empty wine bottles littering the table, one even upended on the floor. Well, that explained it.

Once I was sure they weren't going to wake up, I turned to take in the rest of the storeroom. Down a small flight of stairs that looked hewn into the cave rock, were barrels. They were positioned on their sides and stacked neatly in an almost pyramid way. I narrowed my eyes, searching further, before honing in on what looked like a lever, as tall as I was, a few feet away from the barrels. That must be what the elves used to drop them into the river.

Everything felt like it was lining up into place, and I gestured to the dwarves to move down the staircase. They all complied, still very quiet, and I waited patiently for my turn once Kili had moved to join them.

Together we all stared at the barrels for a long moment.

"What shall we do," Dori finally whispered. "Cling to them like infants to their mothers?"

Next to me Bofur looked doubtful. "Aye, and the river is not kind. We're likely as not to be battered and bruised by the end."

A few of the dwarves murmured in agreement. Only Thorin and Nori looked unconcerned. I narrowed my eyes. I had, to be fair, left out the finer details of what the escape route would entail but I thought it would be obvious when I told them we'd be leaving via the river.

When the murmuring didn't stop after a few moments, I asked mildly, already knowing the answer, "Do any of you have a better idea?"

And then I waited. There was a long stretch of silence in which the dwarves exchanged whispers, heads bowed, for a few moments then looked at each other, then Thorin- who looked wholly unconcerned which was gratifying - and then back to me. I stared, resisting the urge to narrow my eyes in satisfaction as many of them started to squirm.

I turned away, just barely refraining from rolling my eyes once I was sure that, no, none of them didn't in fact have a better idea, and took a step closer to the barrels. I gave them a onceover, considering, as the next step of the plan began to form in my head.

After counting the barrels – there were, perfectly, fourteen, one for each of us- I extracted Sting from its sheath, moved towards the closest barrel, wedged my sword in between the lid and the barrel and used it as a makeshift crowbar. After only a bit of effort the lid popped cleanly off and clattered loudly to the floor.

I froze at the sound. Oops. The dwarves, meanwhile, turned to the three elves in panic, breathing a collective sigh in relief when the elves didn't stir.

Satisfied, I moved on to the next barrel and did the same thing. This time the dwarves were prepared. Kili darted forward hurriedly, snatching the barrel's lid out of the air.

"Bilbo," Kili hissed desperately.

I ignored him and moved on to the next barrel and then the next. The dwarves were quick on the uptake as Bofur, Fili, and Dwalin moved forward to help Kili catch the lids as they were extracted from the tops of the barrels.

Finally, the lids were neatly piled up to the side, leaving each barrel opened and ready.

I turned to the others. "Get in."

This time there wasn't one protest as the dwarves dutifully did as I demanded. Dwalin and Dori both helped the others climb into their barrels, particularly Ori, Balin, and Bifur, all of whom had claimed the top most barrels.

Once every dwarf was safely inside, I began my work of replacing each of the lids. Luckily the barrels were all the same size and the lids seemed to fit as easily on one as another. Using the hilt of Sting as a hammer I quickly wedged the lids back into place, stopping at Kili's barrel, incidentally the second to last one, who was staring out at me worriedly.

"What about you Bilbo?" Kili asked urgently.

What about me? I let my gaze drift over to the last barrel to my left. I wouldn't be able to secure my lid from the inside, and I didn't like the idea of floating down the river in an open barrel. It seemed too risky for it to capsize or sink.

I tried my best to smile reassuringly even as I dreaded my decision. My journey down the river was not something I was looking forward to. "Don't worry about me. I'll see you all soon, alright?"

Kili chewed on his bottom lip before nodding resignedly. I carefully replaced his lid, knocked it in securely with Sting before moving on to the last barrel. Once finished, I sheathed Sting and stepped back to survey my handiwork.

They were as ready as they ever would be. I only hoped that we wouldn't drown.

I moved away from the barrels, sliding the keyring off my arm, and tiptoed towards the comatose elves. I bent down and gently placed the keyring on the floor next to the closest elf. Good enough.

Hurrying back to the barrels I made my way towards the lever and wrapped both hands around the handle. With one last deep breath I pulled as hard as I could, thankful that the lever gave way. At once the barrels began to roll down the mechanized ramp and I hurried after them. After the last barrel hit the water with a satisfying splash and the ramp began to retract, I jumped.

The water's coldness took me by surprise. I knew that summer was over, that the weeks in the dungeons had been enough to take us well into fall but it was still a shock and it knocked the breath out of me. Sputtering, I surfaced, treading water gracelessly and tried to get my bearings. My eyes locked on to the nearest barrel, floating about a dozen feet away from me and already caught in the river's current. I swam towards it quickly, effective though probably very inelegant, and latched onto the barrel's side. It didn't seem to sink much with my added weight which probably meant it was the empty one. To be safe, I knocked on the lid, like I would a door, but there was no answer.

Satisfied, I let out a deep sigh as the river washed us away downstream under the stars.

We had done it.

We were free.

What joy that had come with our escape quickly turned to bone-deep exhaustion, and no small degree of frustration, in no time as we continued our way down the river.

The river couldn't decide on a temperament. There would be stretches of time where it would pull us along gently, slow and sedate, and then just as I finally relaxed it would turn into rapids and rocky waterfalls. I very quickly regretted closing up my barrel and decided that it may have been worth the risk of sinking if it meant a buffer between me and the river. I would inevitably hit a rock or knock into another barrel which left me gasping in pain.

It was like a waterpark ride from hell, quite honestly.

I clung to my barrel, unable to do anything else, and kept my eyes on the sky watching as the deep black-blue of night and the stars faded while soft stripes of pinks and purples began form on the horizon. The sun rose slowly and with its light I began my new task of making sure every barrel was in sight as much as possible.

It wasn't easy. The river twisted and turned and when it wasn't doing that, it was dropping off into rapids that would cause every barrel – including my own which was terrifying every time- to disappear under the water for a few heart-stopping moments before bobbing back up and continuing their way downstream.

Eventually, when the sun had climbed more than halfway into the sky, I caught sight of it: a lake into which the river emptied. According to Thorin, that was where we wanted to be.

Elated that we were nearing the end of this particular leg of the journey, I kept my eyes glued on the river in front of me, hoping to find a safe point to get the dwarves out before we were all dumped into the lake. It appeared after another sudden drop from a waterfall: the river became shallow and the current began to push the barrels near a pool along the bank that looked out of reach of the current.

I took my chances and let go of my barrel, submerging myself in the cold water for a moment before I grabbed hold of the next closest barrel and began to awkwardly swim it to the rocky shore. After an exhaustive struggle, and once I was sure the barrel was not likely to float away, I moved on to the next and then the next. After far too long, I pulled the last barrel to where the rest were bobbing serenely in the calm water. The river, I found, was shallow enough here for me to reach the bottom, and I used that as leverage to push the nearest barrel up onto the shore, wincing at the sound of wood scraping against stone. After the barrel was halfway out of the water and wedged on the rocks, I waded with great difficulty out next to it. I resisted the urge to collapse, but gave into the urge to tuck my fingers into my waistcoat pocket to confirm my ring was safe.

Then, I drew out Sting, and pried the barrel's lid off. It was a lot harder than the first time, removing the barrel lid. The wood had swelled from the water and I was infinitely more exhausted than the time before. Using my weight as leverage I was able to pop the lid off, causing a fair amount of water and a soaking wet dwarf to spill out onto the stone.

I watched as the dwarf pushed himself to his knees, eyeing his tangled dark hair. To my great amusement, I realized after a moment that it was Thorin.

"Oh, good," I gasped out between heaving breaths, "You're alive."

Thorin actually growled at me as he stumbled to his feet. I watched as he pushed his hair away from his face with one hand, his other holding tightly to Orcrist, showing me a truly impressive glower. I beamed back, pleased that he looked to be unharmed.

Once I was sure Thorin would be alright unattended, I waded back into the river to grab the next barrel. I'd only just managed to solidly entwine my fingers through the ropes wrapped around it when Thorin came to my rescue. His arms moved over mine and using his superior strength, which meant he took on the brunt of the work, we pushed the barrel up next to his empty one.

"Go," Thorin said with a nod to the rocky shoreline, "I'll bring them in."

I was absolutely not going to argue. Thorin turned to the rest of the barrels and I steeled myself before scrambling shakily up out of the water. I used the new barrel to pull myself to my feet and after taking a few moments to steady myself, popped the lid, allowing Dori to tumble out.

I offered him a hand once he was done coughing, which he dismissed with a weak wave of his own. Dori crawled higher onto the rock, away from the river, and promptly collapsed onto his back. I watched his chest rise and fall for a few moments to make sure he was breathing, before I turned to where Thorin had already brought up the next barrel.

The lid popped and out came Bofur, spluttering and heaving, his hat askew but he looked unharmed. That time when I offered my hand it was accepted, allowing me to help him to his feet. I left him where he was, hands on his knees and wheezing with a pat on the back, to pop open the next barrel that Thorin brought ashore. To my left, I could see Dori wade into water, looking resigned.

I took a step back as the next dwarf poured out of his barrel. Fili.

"Wine," Fili gagged at me once he had gotten his bearings. He looked nauseous. "My barrel stank of it. No more. Not ever. If I should even smell a whiff of it I'll be sick."

I offered a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before turning to the next barrel that Thorin brought to me, Dori close behind with another.

Next came out Balin, his hair wild and beard without its usual style. Then there was Bombur, who needed Fili and Bofur's help getting out of his barrel. Bombur was followed by Ori, who looked green and a little more dazed than the others. Gloin was next, his beard an even deeper red thanks to the water. Then Dwalin, whose expression caused Bofur and I to back away immediately and leave him be. And then came Nori, who was surprisingly unruffled by the whole thing, easily pulling himself to his feet and straightening his soaked clothes. Oin was freed shortly after, looking supremely unimpressed, but steady on his feet. Then there was Bifur, who came out shouting what sounded like battle cries. And, finally, Kili emerged and promptly threw up water all over my feet.

"Sorry, Bilbo," Kili said weakly as Fili pulled him to his feet.

I offered him an understanding smile before backing away, leaving the dwarves, in varying states of dishevelment and water-logged, to look over their brothers and cousins in peace. I climbed up a few more rocks, moving away from the sounds of the river and talking dwarves and took a look around.

The forest was at our backs, no longer deep greens and blacks but instead yellows and oranges and brilliant reds that came with fall. Before us were thinner trees and beyond that I could see a stone peninsula surrounded by a lake of grey that seemed to stretch on forever.

I took a deep breath, removing my jacket and throwing it into a soaking pile to my right. I tilted my head up and eyed the soft blue of the sky with relief. I turned my face towards the sun, tuning out the dwarves, and absorbing the light like a plant. This was what I had missed the most during our time in Thranduil's Halls.

Sunlight.

Letting out a long sigh, I closed my eyes and stayed where I was for a long time. The sun was a little too weak to offer much, and the wind was just shy of being chilly, but stone beneath my feet was already warm from the sun. I could feel my clothes slowly drying against my skin as goosebumps covered my arms.

Then I heard them. The dwarves were all calling my name. Frowning I turned away from the sun, wondering what in the world they wanted now. As my eyes adjusted, I could see that there was real fear on their faces and they were all frozen in place. And then I realized that their eyes weren't on me but instead on something over my shoulders.

I turned slowly, unsure, and found a rough pair of boots a dozen or so feet away. I followed them upwards and took in an overly tall figure looming over me. An overly tall figure who had a bow drawn and pointed directly at me.

Oh.

I eyed the stranger, trying to push down the terror that was crawling up my throat. He was tall – too tall like Gandalf - and dressed in browns and blacks. His hair was shoulder-length and dark and his face looked stern and unmoving. His ears were rounded, though, I could see even with the distance between us, and he didn't seem to have the same aloofness that all elves seemed to possess. Was this what I would have been if I'd arrived in my body? What had Gandalf called humans here? Men?

I cleared my throat uncomfortably, trying to ignore how hard and fast my heart was beating. Trying to ignore the spike of hobbit-adrenaline and the instinct to run, "Hello."

The man's eyes narrowed at me. "Who are you?"

My mouth opened to answer, but behind me Balin called, "Excuse me," I turned my head just enough to see Balin moving towards us in my periphery, his hands raised, "But you're from Lake-town, if I'm not mistaken?"

The man, without hesitation, turned his arrow from me to Balin. That really wasn't any better. "What of it?"

"That barge over there," Balin gestured in the direction of the lake. "It wouldn't be available for hire by any chance, would it?"

I risked turning my head enough to see where Balin was pointing. Sure enough, along the stone peninsula I'd seen before was a large boat moored alongside it. I glanced back at the man, unsure.

The man seemed to have come to a conclusion about us. I wasn't sure what exactly, but it was enough to make him drop his bow and put the arrow back in its quiver. "The barrels first."

The dwarves and the man moved the barrels down along the shore - while I, on the other hand, tried not to stumble along the rocks or collapse from the adrenaline crash of having an arrow pointed at me- down to where his boat was tied. It seemed that the peninsula I saw was, in fact, a stone dock. Go figure.

It was only after the last of the barrels had been placed safely on the dock did the man deign to speak with us again. "Why should I help you?"

He brushed past Balin, who bravely stood next to the man's loading ramp, and began lifting the barrels one at a time to stow them away on the deck of his boat.

"Those boots have seen better days," Balin said knowingly, the rest of us huddled a fair distance behind him, watching. "As has that coat. No doubt you have some hungry mouths to feed."

At this the man hesitated and Balin pressed his advantage. "How many?"

"A boy and two girls," the man admitted, which surprised me. I'd have betted he wouldn't even answer.

Balin smiled widely, either in an attempt to endear himself to the man or because he had found an avenue to try, "And your wife? I imagine she's a beauty."

"Aye," the man said quietly, "She was."

I winced. Shot down. Balin visibly backtracked and said, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean."

"Oh, come on," Dwalin snarled behind me. "Enough."

The man also appeared to have enough. As he hauled another barrel onto his boat, he said, "Whatever it is that you need, I cannot help you."

"We only need," Balin began only to be cut off brusquely.

"I cannot help you," the man repeated, slower and bit menacing.

"Let's just knock him into the lake and be done with it," Dwalin suggested as soon as Balin retreated to us, accepting defeat. Over Balin's shoulder I could see the man tense and turn to stare at us. Dwalin either wanted to be overheard or didn't care. It was honestly a toss-up.

"No," I told them all immediately, hoping to cut short that suggestion or any similar ones, "Absolutely not."

Dwalin muttered something under his breath that I didn't catch. It was probably for the best.

"You said he needs money," I said slowly, turning to Balin, "Do we have any to offer?"

The dwarves all shifted uncomfortably around me. I knew exactly what that meant. Before I thought better of it, I held out my hand towards them and open and closed my fingers a few times in the universal 'gimme' gesture.

There was a long moment of silence. It seemed that my gesture was universal even in Middle Earth because Thorin declared, "Turn out your pockets, all of you."

The dwarves grumbled to one another but did as they were told.

"If you can," Balin said, voice low as he fished out his own coin purse, "Do try to procure some weapons out of the deal. We'll take whatever we can get."

I blinked, a little stunned. I didn't remember being the one to volunteer for this.

Balin wasn't done. He leaned in closer his voice dropping to a whisper. "And if he asks, make no mention of the quest. We are simply visiting our kin in the Iron Hills."

"Iron Hills," I repeated on instinct. I resisted the urge to wince. Why did I have to be the next spokesperson? Surely we could send - well. Okay, this was making more sense now that I thought about it.

"Good lad," Balin said approvingly. "I have every faith in you."

Thorin approached me, arm outstretched to deposit a full coin purse into my hands. "Be very careful, Master Baggins."

I resisted the urge to glare at them both. This was not at all what I envisioned.

When I turned back to the man, to my dismay I saw that he had loaded the last barrel into his boat and was leaning down to remove its ropes from the docks.

I moved quickly, though not quite a run because I knew I wouldn't be able to manage that, and cleared my throat as soon as I was close enough, "Excuse me."

The man straightened and eyed me with no small amount of suspicion.

"I'm sorry we go off on the wrong foot," I told him apologetically. "It's been a long few days for us."

Few days. Few weeks. Few months.

The man's eyes narrowed but he didn't answer. Great.

"I'm Bilbo Baggins," I offered a hand to him.

The man stared at me for a long time, his eyes moving between me and my hand and then back. Finally, arms crossed, he offered, "Bard."

I took the hint and dropped my hand back to my side, "It's nice to meet you."

Bard made a small noise but said nothing more. God, he was giving Thorin a run for his money in the charm department. But, as we entered what felt too much like a staring contest, Bard's eyebrows rose, his mouth smoother out some, and his head tilted in consideration. He eyed me for a long moment and I resisted the urge to shift underneath the weight of his gaze. As uncomfortable as his scrutiny was, at least he had stopped preparing his boat to set sail.

Finally, Bard broke the silence and asked, "You are not a dwarf at all, are you?"

"No," I admitted cheerfully, grateful that he was the one to prompt conversation this time. "I'm a hobbit. I've heard some call me halfling but I don't really appreciate that. Makes me feel like I'm being called half of a person."

Bard's lips actually twitched at that. "I've never heard of your kind before. Where do you hail from?"

"I'm told not many have," I replied easily, surprising myself by remembering what Gandalf had told me. "We don't venture out much. We're quite west of the mountains, past," I paused, wracking my brain for the town we hadn't been allowed to stop at, "Bree."

Bard's eyes lit up in recognition and I resisted the urge sigh in relief. I'd gotten something right, at least.

"You have come a long way," Bard said, looking almost engaged. I had a feeling he was a lot more interested than he was letting on. Excellent.

"Yes, further than I'd thought." Or wanted. Or dreamed. I smiled wryly. "Sort of an odd twist of fate, I guess. My friends," I gestured towards the dwarves and watched as Bard's eyes flitted over to them briefly before returning to my face. "Have been kind enough to allow me to travel with them. They're going to the Iron Hills, you see, and I've never seen a dwarf kingdom before."

Bard's face went blank, "Interesting that they would do such a thing. I've only known dwarves to be selfish and mistrustful."

I felt a flicker of irritation in my chest and resisted the impulse to glare. Elves were one thing, but Beorn and now Bard? I truly didn't understand their dislike. Even at their most standoffish the dwarves had never been anything other than polite to me, as a whole. Well. They hadn't been rude at least. Whenever I had spoken to any of them individually, they were – barring Thorin in our early days – cordial if not a little distant.

"I disagree, I've been lucky to have meet them. They've been kind friends to me if not a little," I paused to think, letting out a soft hum, "stubborn."

Bard was watching me curiously. His arms were still crossed but he was leaning closer now. I decided this was the opening I needed. I didn't think Bard would give me an opportunity for a second chance.

"I'm afraid we haven't had much luck, recently," I told him carefully, slowly. I waited until Bard raised an eyebrow, signaling for me to continue. "We ran into a bit of trouble in Mirkwood and lost the path and nearly all of our belongings as well. It was only thanks to the river that we found our way out and to you."

"I see," Bard replied blandly.

This time I did sigh. "I understand that you don't trust us. I don't blame you, really, we haven't given you a reason to. But please, at least, believe me when I say that all they want is to go home. And so do I."

I pulled out the purse of money that I'd stuffed into my jacket pocket. Behind me I could hear the dwarves muttering, though why I couldn't fathom. I resisted the urge to turn and glare at them. "This is all we have to offer. For safe passage across the lake and any supplies you might be willing to part with."

"And weapons," Gloin hollered over to us, unconcerned that he had revealed them to be eavesdropping.

"And weapons," I repeated, annoyed, before meeting Bard's eyes hopefully.

Bard stared at me for a long time, eyes dark and assessing. Then, just as I was beginning to think that he was going to refuse, his large hand wrapped around mine, extracting the purse from my fingers. "Mister Baggins, you have a deal."

I beamed up at him. "Thank you."

At once I turned to the others and grinned.

What a win.

It seemed that day was one of fleeting joy. What little pride I felt at my success was swept away as soon as we set sail. I'd never been particularly interested in sailing, canoeing, kayaking, boating of any kind really. I lived in west-central Kansas, where large bodies of water weren't exactly in abundance, which gave me little opportunity to experience this particular method of travel.

I wouldn't recommend it.

The boat rocked precariously, making me feel unsteady in the way the barrel I'd clung to hadn't. As soon as we reached open water, a white fog engulfed us. The sky became overcast and the wind had picked up considerably. I refused to glance at the water because when I did, I saw literal ice chunks.

I took up position leaning against the left side of the boat, in an effort to be out of the way as much as possible and to keep my back firmly to the water. To my surprise, Thorin settled in next to me. I would've guessed he'd had enough of me in the dungeons, but he looked content enough. He stretched one arm out behind me while the other hung loosely at his side with Orcrist in hand. His face was impressively blank as ever except for when he would glance at our rescuer which would cause a wrinkle between his eyebrows. And he made no indication that he wished to speak with me- or anyone really- which was exactly what I wanted.

Bard seemed to have a similar idea and hadn't spoken to any of us since we boarded his boat. Instead, he stood at the stern, using the rudder to guide us easily through the waters, his eyes dark and watchful.

Occasional shivers turned continuous the further into our journey we got. The wind made my damp jacket feel icy and my fingers were aching. And my feet, well, I had lost most feeling in them during our river-ride and hadn't regained it since.

I crossed my arms in a futile effort to keep warm and, as subtly as I could, leaned into Thorin's side in a desperate attempt to steal his body heat. Thorin shot me a look as I burrowed closer. I had a hard time reading it. He didn't look annoyed, thankfully. More exasperated, if I had to guess, with an undercurrent of amusement. Thorin didn't move away, either.

The quiet that had settled over all of us broke when Bofur shouted, "Watch out!"

My head shot up at once from where I'd tucked my chin against my chest. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Thorin do the same. Looming above us were great jutting pillars of stone, half-submerged and crumbling. My eyes widened as our boat came perilously close to one behind me, so close that I probably could've stuck out my arm and touched it, before Bard easily maneuvered us away in between the next two outcrops.

"What are you trying to do, drown us?" Thorin growled, turning his head to glower at Bard.

Bard made a small noise that could almost be called a laugh. However he meant it, it certainly wasn't doing Thorin's temper any favors. He was outright scowling now. "I was born and bred on these waters, Master Dwarf. If I wanted to drown you, I would not do it here."

I could feel my eyebrows climbing towards my hairline. I couldn't decide whether what I was feeling was a rush of fondness for this man for talking to Thorin that way, or pity him for the very same reason. I wondered if this was how Gandalf felt watching Thorin and I in the early days of our travels.

"I've had enough of this lippy Lake-man," Dwalin muttered crossly, glaring mercilessly at Bard who looked unconcerned. I felt a laugh beginning to bubble up in my chest, though that probably wasn't Bard's goal. "I'll say it once more: we should throw him over the side and be done with it."

"His name's Bard," I said wearily, laughter gone and replaced with familiar exasperation, "And I've already made a deal with him, you can't expect me to go back on it, can you?"

Dwalin didn't appear to be impressed by my argument. Instead, he seemed to take it as an opportunity to bring up another grievance, "And I cannot believe, Burglar, that you paid him already."

Quite a few of the dwarves perked up, turning to look at us. Nori and Gloin were even nodding. I could not believe this.

I rolled my eyes as Thorin settled back in next to me. I immediately pressed my shoulder against his to suck up whatever heat I could. "Why wouldn't I? I offered, he accepted. Done."

Dwalin opened his mouth to argue but I cut him off, "Dwalin, please."

"I don't like him." Dwalin snarled, looking almost put out.

"You've made that very clear," I assured him. Dwalin's eyes widened in surprise for a split-second before his brows returned to their furrowing.

"We do not have to like him," Balin interjected, taking up the admirable task of trying to soothe our ruffled feathers, "We simply have to be sure he will hold up on his end of the deal. Need I remind you, brother, Master Baggins brokered this bargain when we could not, even if the details are not what we would prefer. Have a little patience."

Dwalin growled out what I was sure was a dwarvish curse in response, turning his head to glare out at the lake before going very still. Then he straightened, arms hanging loose at his sides.

My eyebrows furrowed, wondering what it was that had cause Dwalin's demeanor to take such a sharp one-eighty. And then I saw it, looming through the fog. I straightened up instantly, following Dwalin's example and stared. Thorin was shifting next to me now, too. The rest of the dwarves stood slowly, their quiet chatter gone.

Erebor.

It was even more beautiful up close. Huge in a way I hadn't realized back on the Carrock. With the sun just above it, it almost glowed. There was something about it, something that reminded me, of all things, of Rivendell. There was a magic to it I thought, and I suddenly understood how it had been a kingdom, once.

My stomach dropped, sudden and sickeningly, as I realized now it was something else. That there was something else that had claimed it.

A dragon.

To my right, there was a sudden creak of wood and heavy footsteps. I turned to look, even as I elbowed Thorin, and saw Bard had abandoned the rudder and was joining us. Thorin, to his credit, reacted quickly. He took a step back and turned, effectively blocking my view of Bard. And Bard's of me.

I stood on my tiptoes to peer over his shoulder anyway.

Bard didn't seem to notice the wondered hush that had fallen over us and said quickly, "All of you into the barrels. Quickly."

Oh, no, I thought with dread. Not again.

"Why?" Thorin demanded, frustrated. Whether it was due to the interruption or because his thoughts were close to mine, I wasn't sure.

Bard's face was grim and, if I wasn't mistaken, a touch worried. "There are guards ahead."

At once there was a flurry of movement as we all turned to the barrels. Even as I tried to heave myself over the lip, I could see several of the others already in their own. I struggled for another painful moment before giving up.

"Here Bilbo," Fili whispered, coming up behind me, looking harried. He laced his hands together and turned them upward in a way that meant he was offering me a boost.

"Thank you," I told Fili gratefully, allowing him to push me up into the barrel as if I weighed nothing.

There was a steady, almost rhythmic, scraping of wood on wood, and it struck me as I glanced up to meet Bard's eyes, that he was sealing us in. I nodded faintly, and before he settled the lid over me, Bard returned it. It went dark, and I only barely heard Bard hiss out, "Quiet."

We all fell silent. I curled my knees up to my chest, anxiety mounting. I heard the boat move closer to what could only be docks, the sounds of ringing bells, the lapping of the water, and men's voices growing louder. The boat came to a stop and I heard Bard moving along the deck.

Above me I heard him say so quietly I strained to hear him, "We've come to the tollgate."

Another man called out, so sudden and so close, I flinched, "Halt! Goods inspection, papers please."

Bard spoke to the man amicably enough and with more warmth than I'd heard from him yet or even thought possible from him. But then the conversation was quiet, muffled by the wood and the pounding of my heart. I was only able to make out their voices, only able to tell when one of them was talking but not what they were saying. I couldn't decide whether to hope one of the others could hear. If Dwalin heard a single word he didn't like I knew it'd be trouble.

Neither man's tone changed throughout their conversation, nor did I hear any more boots or the voices grow closer. It was only after the man's voice lilted upward in what I guessed was farewell that we began to move again.

Our boat continued through the water for a few more minutes, and then I heard Bard again, "We're clear."

I sighed, grateful. I liked Bard.

The sound of people shouting, bells ringing, and the creaking of wood grew louder as we continued to move. Then we stopped once more.

I froze, listening as Bard's footsteps grew close and then stopped. Weak light, which felt blinding after the near-darkness, suddenly appeared and I felt more than saw Bard reach down into my barrel and pull me out easily.

"Alright, Master Baggins?" Bard asked me, settling me gently onto the deck, as if this sort of thing happened every day. Bard seemed as unflappable as Gandalf.

"Yes, thank you," I gasped out.

I glanced up at the sky, only now realizing how late in the day it had become. The grey of the sky had grown even darker during our time in the barrels and the water surrounding us was an inky black. Meanwhile Bard moved to the next barrel, kicking it over easily, causing Nori to come sliding out. The next one he tipped over revealed Dori. When Bard went to the next barrel, the lid flew up and landed on the deck with a clatter, Dwalin pulled himself out snarling, "Keep your hands off me."

Bard, smartly, moved away quickly and I watched as the rest of the dwarves joined us, emerging from their barrels.

By the time the last dwarf, Bifur, was out, Bard was already off the boat, moving towards an old man who was watching us with amazement. I suppose we did look fairly ridiculous. I could hear, vaguely, Bard speaking to the man and as he did, I took in the sight of my first city of men.

What had Thorin called it? Esga- Esgar-? I decided to stick with Balin's name: Lake-town.

It was breathtaking in the same way Goblin Town was breathtaking: it was something that I could never have possibly imagined and yet, somehow, it was true to its name. It was truly a 'lake town' in every way. The town itself was actually built over the lake; the buildings seemed haphazardly thrown together and jutted out over the water like great towers. Fishing nets were used as sheds. Rope ladders looked to be just as common as stairs. Docks were their sidewalks and roads. The sound and smell of water were inescapable. The air was cold and damp and the whole town seemed to creak with every wave and gust of wind.

"This is," I breathed out, more to myself than anything.

Thorin moved to stand next to me, "This, Master Baggins, is the world of men."

Well, damn. Color me impressed.