A/N WOAH BABY. YEAH. CHAPTER TIME.

When was the last post?

...April.

Shit.

Um.

Few excuses except for life and adult job and responsibilities and so on and so on.

Also the saga of me passing out when needles go into my body for routine things continues and I've yet to wake up in Aragorn's arms. I demand a refund.

It's very humbling when you realize you've written about people with all these horrific injuries and you can't even stay conscious through a blood test.

Aaanyway.

The sun fell and rose again and still there was no word from the mountain. Another council was spent in Thranduil's tent, arguing between her and him, Gandalf and Bard, and Fili and Bilbo about time. Time and trust was what she was begging for but Thranduil and Bard were a hairbreadth away from refusing it.

But what else could she do? Her credibility with Thorin in his current state was completely useless at best and inflammatory at worse,, all she could do was hope he'd come around in time to make a difference in the coming battle.

She, Fili, and Bilbo were helping shore up an exterior wall when Bard came around the corner and cleared his throat.

"Lady Josephine, if I may have a word."

She had a feeling she wasn't going to enjoy this conversion since it was clear he wasn't really asking. Grabbing her set aside cloak she headed over to him, waving Bilbo and Fili off as she followed him. They went up to the high pavilion, where Thranduil had set his tents outside the old citadel. Most of the residents of Dale were down below and only a handful of Laketown guards milled around in the old citadel when she followed Bard inside.

He was silent as they walked, but moving with purpose, like he already knew exactly where he was going and what he wanted. She found it refreshing, at least, that she could trust him enough to not worry about where he was taking her.

Pausing at a set of double doors he held his hand out for her to enter ahead of him, stepping into a dusty, crumbling archive. Coming in behind her he shut the doors and stood in front of them. Feeling the chill of the unused room, she pulled her cloak over her shoulders and faced him.

"Okay, let's have it." She said, settling her feet into the dusty, moth eaten rug.

"Back in Esgaroth I thought the greatest you might bring down upon us was a dragon, but now you beg us stand by while armies of orcs march towards an indefensible city. And somehow, both a wizard and an Elven king listen to your word as if it were a surety."

"Armies are coming from all sides, where would you run to?"

"Had we known by the lake we could have gone elsewhere."

"And starved in the process." She gritted her teeth, wondering if her carefully held even tone was going to be any use here after all. Or if she'd be able to hold back her own frustrations.

"Is that it? Or is it your desire for Dale to be strong before the end of the Third Age, regardless of the cost?" He spat her words from their council back at her. "Are the lives of my children of less importance than your great plan. For they are the ones who will suffer for this plot!"

"Don't stand there and accuse me of not considering their lives in all of this."

"Then do not act as if we are merely pawns to be used!"

"If not for me considering their lives, Bain would have been on that bell tower with you!" She snapped. "And it was a risk to everything! If I hadn't played my part right, if I'd flinched or fallen or slowed you down and you missed the shot then we'd all be more fucked over than we are right now!"

"So you say!" He bellowed. "I cannot raise my children on what ifs, especially not those spoken by a stranger."

"A stranger who looked after your children for weeks while you were in jail, who got them out of the damn town while it burned and sprung you from that same jail. So maybe you can at least try to trust me when I say that the next week has more bearing on the next hundred years than you could imagine."

"That is not enough for me to stand aside and blindly accept that they will see battle."

"If you trust me, there's a good chance they won't."

He paused and looked at her knowingly, fearfully even. "You beg me trust you, when I am not even sure you trust your own words. You make a show of assuredness to get your way but inside you still fear you are wrong. Your words are dangerous with their lies of omission, Seer. We deserve to be led into this without blindfolds."

Josephine looked away from him, agreeing with him to a degree. If she were on the opposite side of a Seer she wouldn't be so keen on them either…in Elrond and Galadriel's case she certainly hadn't been. "Maybe." She admitted, which seemed to garner some points from Bard. "But you also deserve to live your life in blissful ignorance once this is all over. Trust me, you don't really want to know the future."

Silence fell between them and the argument fizzled. They could go around in circles for hours and find little to no resolution. He was, rightfully, focused most on the lives of his children. She couldn't fault him for it, hell she almost envied him.

In the distance a clap like thunder echoed through the hills and across the cloudless sky and they left their argument behind in the archive, bolting out into the courtyard and hearing someone yell that the fires in Erebor were lit as everyone crowded over to the walls to look towards the mountain.

They pushed their way to the front and Josephine felt a spark of hope in her chest again. The recently made wall, craggy and woven like a basket, lay in pieces across the frozen river. A large bell swung slowly out of the opening now and then, moving slower and a shorter distance each time.

Thranduil called out for his steed and Josephine rushed back to the elven encampment as a string of horses followed behind him. She locked eyes with Legolas as he started to ride past her and she held out her arm. Somehow, despite the fact that he seemed to have an ever present frown, it looked more agitated at her request. But he did drop his arm and lean to swing her up onto the saddle behind him.

By the time they reached the gates of Dale, Bard, Fili, Bilbo, and Gandalf had found their own steeds and fallen in with Thranduil's party. They hurried up the road to Erebor and stopped nervously where they had two days before, watching what looked to be an empty mountain.

The fires were lit, the gate was open, but she couldn't see anyone along the parapet.

Was this the surrender she was hoping for? Or had he gone so mad he thought instead he'd lay them a trap?

Then, slowly a dark figure started to appear out of the shadows. Thorin came, stepping into the light and holding a sword in his hand. He avoided her gaze and everyone stiffened.

But his heavy, cloying robes were gone, and his head wore no crown.

He paused, well out of their reach, and flung the sword onto the ground between him and them. "My shame is stronger than any spell that hoard could hold." His voice was low and soft, but sure. "My word will be honored."

Fili jumped down from behind Bard and threw his arms around his uncle.

Thranduil turned to look at her and she did her best to wash her face of emotion except for a very pointed I told you so glance.

From the gate the rest of the company started to cautiously come out, filling in behind Thorin. Kili hugged his brother and laughed and the mood began to lighten. She slid down off of Legolas' horse and went over to them nearly as cautiously as they'd left the mountain.

Josephine was relieved to see Thorin as himself again, thrilled to see the dwarves and know that all her plans could be put into play now, but there was still a twinge in her chest that traveled up to the bruises on her neck which made her uneasy in the shadow of the mountain. Her mind knew Thorin was back, but her body hadn't caught up to that yet.

Huffing, Dwarlin broke from the company and stepped over to her. "Ye look like shite." He grumbled.

"And you look like something a warg coughed up." She sassed back.

He laughed deep in his chest and squashed her against his chest. "We missed ye, lass. Seems between you and the other two deserters ye managed to snap him out of it."

As he let her go, Josephine caught Thorin's eye just past Dwalin's shoulder and froze for a second. He was looking at her like he had back when they'd left for Mirkwood, with guilt as she'd accused him of negligence. Seeing it felt almost vindicating, and she hated the sliver of anger that crept up on her. Josephine knew she shouldn't expect to just move past it like his hand hadn't been the one to break her nose and cut her lip, but she wanted to. She wanted to see him sigh and call her a petulant child again and feel only warmth, but two days of fear and worry wasn't enough time to do that, even if this Thorin wasn't the one she'd run from.

He made no attempt to approach her, seeming to know that it wasn't the time to make any kinds of amends. Battle was on their doorsteps and they had too much to do if they were going to survive it.