Chapter 52: Apologies

"We must find a way to warn Gandalf of Saruman's treachery," argued Nori, ringing out his tunic and jumping to the small dock as the raft bumped against it.

"First we must get away from the river," countered Legolas, hauling on the lines of the raft and securing it to the walkway. "Azog will no doubt follow us. We need to get to Lake-town."

"We need to tend to our wounded," interjected Oin seriously, already ordering Dwalin to the shore with a gesture. The healer began to pry open the large wine barrel for his medical supplies as a grumbling Dwalin obliged him. Kili limped past with Fili's help as they made their way to the shore as well.

"We should try to find Ruven's body," said Airidan quietly, standing at the raft's far edge surveying the river as it rushed to join with the lake. "He deserves a proper burial."

Thorin froze halfway out of his barrel and glanced towards Sara as she struggled to extricate herself from her own. At Airidan's words her hand slipped and she fell, banging her arm on the barrel's edge. Hissing curses under her breath she tried again. Quickly Thorin moved to help her, grasping her wrist and pulling her out in a smooth fluid motion, setting her feet on the gently rocking dock.

"Are you well?" he asked in a whisper, painfully aware how woefully inadequate his words were. She gave a small nod, holding her arm. Gently he reached to see but she pulled away slightly. He let his hand drop.

"I just…" she began, her voice quavering. "I need some space for a while." He studied her for a moment contemplating. The elf's death had been a harsh slap of reality and it had left her reeling.

"Alright," he said. "But try not to go out of sight. There may be enemies about." She nodded and set off, leaving the dock and walking north along the narrow rocky beach. He watched her hesitant progress for a moment before turning to help the others unload the rafts, his thoughts wandering back a few hours.

He had been in the midst of fighting Azog when he heard the elf brother cry out in grief and anguish. For one horrifying moment he had feared the worst, but when he turned it had been to see Sara's chalk white face splattered with ruby drops as the elf's, no... Ruven's dead body slid down her front, staining it crimson. His inattention had almost cost him the future use of his right arm. The white warg had taken advantage of his distraction, lunging forward but Legolas had caught the beast's attention, slicing a deep gash and it's white muzzle, sending in whining back a few steps.

Even with Legolas and one of the elf brothers to help they were still struggling to fend off Azog, as the pale Orc was driven by an insane fury to cut them down and claim Sara. They had been working their way slowly towards the shore, doing their best to fend off the orc, but now the urgency to reach Sara and the others had increased ten fold. Thorin had been contemplating simply breaking and running when the low clear note of a horn sounded over the din of the river and clashing weapons. From the tree line burst a group of at least ten well armed elf guards. Upon spotting them Azog gave a cry and the focus of his and his orcs attacks shifted.

Thorin had taken this welcome opportunity to speed for the river, the two elves close behind. The moment Thorin had seen Sara's face he knew this was not something that was going to be easy for Sara to cope with. The Orcs were driven off, the raft freed and soon they were moving away with all aboard. All save one. By the time Thorin or any of the others had reached the raft Ruven's body had already been sucked away by the pull of the river.

Sara was motionless, her face blank and emotionless. Thorin knew that expression well. She was in shock. She did not respond as he wrapped his arms around her in an attempt to reassure her. She stared down at her bloodstained clothes and hands, her tongue licking her lower lip. She looked as though she were about to be violently sick. He was not wrong. He held her firmly as she wretched over the side of the raft, but even when the foul fluids had ceased to come forth from her mouth, her body still heaved with convulsions. He was not sure when exactly those convulsions had turned to tears. All he knew was that one moment she was sick and the next she had collapsed into loud sobs in his arms. She said not a word but there were few words to be said as they rode down the river in near silence, a somber mood settling over them.

The other raft was some distance ahead of them but had tethered themselves to a rocky outcropping to await their arrival. To his relief no one else was missing from the second raft, but he felt a pang as Tauriel, conscious once again, awaited them anxiously. Her face sank into deep lines of sorrow when she failed to find a familiar face among the others. The sun had climbed just past its zenith by the time they had arrived at the mouth of a river leading into the large lake. To their right was a small dock and in the distance to the Northeast they could just make out the outline of what appeared to be a town floating on the lake.

Thorin let the packs in his arms drop into the dry sand at the docks edge to join the others and looked for Sara. She had wandered some 50 yards up the shore and sat on a large piece of driftwood, her back to them. He was not the only one to have noticed. Dwalin watched her as he urged Oin to finish his work on his shoulder quickly.

"We have no way to reach Lake Town except on foot," said Nori, arguing with Airidan, rolling a barrel to the docks edge. "Unless you have paddles or a sail with you."

"Well we can't stay here," said the elf, narrowly missing Thorin's boot with another barrel, bringing him out of his own thoughts.

"I agree, but even if we do manage to make it to Lake-Town, it's only a matter of time until Saruman sends someone after us, or worse yet gets his hooks into the master of the lake," said Nori. "So unless you can best a wizard I still say we need to send for Gandalf."

Thorin could not help but agree with him. As grateful as he had been for the distraction the elf guards had provided, he knew how unlikely they were to capture or take down the pale orc. Now because they had been seen, Saruman was sure to send reinforcements to try and recapture Sara. Not for the first time Thorin wondered what knowledge Sara held of the future. He shook himself. There was work to be done and decisions to be made and at the moment it was clear that Sara was not up to helping in that particular task.

"He has a fair point," interjected Bofur as he passed by, his arms full of the others packs. "But only Mahal knows how we would find him. No one knows where he is."

"Actually, we do," said Bilbo after a moment of quiet. The little hobbit sat on a stone, shivering. They all turned to look at him but his attention was on the huddled form of Sara further down the beach.

"Are you saying you know Gandalf's whereabouts?" asked Balin, from behind Bilbo.

"Well yes," said the hobbit, clearly uneasy with all the eyes on him. He began to run his fingers through the hair atop his large feet, suppressing a shiver as the breeze picked up. "I overheard Saruman say that he sent him away to inspect the ruins to the South."

"Dol Guldur," said Legolas quietly, his hand on his bow.

"Do you have any way to send a message?" asked Fili, tying a bandage firmly around Kili's leg. "A bird or something?"

"I hardly carry a messenger bird with me," scoffed Legolas.

"The message will have to be delivered in person," said Tauriel as Myrin stood over her dabbing at the dried blood on her forehead.

"But that could take weeks," said Nori, leaning against one of the larger barrels.

"Not necessarily," said Lierin. "Myrin and I could go."

"How fast could you be there?" asked Thorin, looking out across the lake, unsure if he could see movement on the waves.

"About 5 days if we meet no resistance," replied the elf.

"You're that fast?" asked Kili incredulous. Lierin nodded.

"Or speed is not much greater than the other races, but our endurance far outstrips them, allowing us to cover ground at a rapid rate. Yes we could be in Dol Guldur in under a week."

"And so you shall," said Legolas. "Find Mithrandir and ask for his aid in freeing my father from the white wizards grasp. We must be prepared for the arrival of war. In the meantime we'll make our way to Lake-town." He turned to Thorin. "What exactly are your aims in Lake-town?"

"We must first warn them of the impending battle. I hope to be able to also strike an alliance with the men for the future."

"And what of your plan in the mountain?" asked Legolas, folding his arms over his chest. "What of the worm?"

"I'm not certain," said Thorin, sighing wearily. "Sara says that a man named Bard is the one to kill the dragon, but only after destroying Lake- town and killing one third of its inhabitants. I seek to prevent that tragedy. We had hoped to convince the people to evacuate. But nothing is clear anymore."

"Why?" asked the elf prince.

"Because according to your father the heir of Girion has been missing for about 80 years."

"What has he to do with the dragon?"

"Bard, the man fated to slay the dragon is supposed to be the heir of Girion."

"I see the problem," said Legolas, nodding.

"Indeed," said Thorin, glancing at Sara again. "Fortunately we still know the dragon's weakness, but who knows how much fate truly controls events. We can only hope."

"You would risk the lives of Lake-town on that hope?"

"Even without my interference in the mountain, the Orcs are a real enough threat to them. IN under two months they will be at war whether they are prepared or not," said Thorin, rubbing a hand over his brow. "Gandalf fears that if not slain, the dragon could be persuaded to join the enemy. That would only amplify our problems. Tell me, what would you do in my place?" challenge Thorin. Legolas was silent for a moment, his light eyebrows drawn together in thought.

"I do not know," he admitted at last. "But it is clear we require the aid of Gandalf. I will send Myrin and Lierin as soon as we have seen you safely to Lake-town."

"It is well," said Thorin.

"Now the only problem is getting to Lake-town," said Bofur, stooping down next to the pile of packs and rummaging about. "It's a sure thing we can't stay here, and it's risky to continue on foot." With a grin he produced a wine bottle and indulged in the long drink.

"Stow it Bofur," ordered Nori, kicking a rock at the toy maker. Bofur made a rude hand gesture before taking another long drink and tucking the bottle away.

"Isn't there supposed to be someone to pick up these barrels?" offered Bilbo hesitantly, appearing silently by Thorin's elbow. Thorin jumped at the hobbit's sudden close proximity. Either he was utterly exhausted or Bilbo was better suited to the silent movements of a burglar then he had previously thought.

"Yes," said Airidan, leaving the edge of the dock. "There should be a bargeman along soon to retrieve them. In fact I believe he is making his way here currently." He pointed out on the water to the North and Thorin could see a speck growing on the horizon.

"What if he won't take us?" asked Bilbo

"We shall have to wait and see," said Thorin.

"Although not ideal we can always make our way to the town on foot," said Airidan.

"But I thought the town was out on the lake," said Bilbo, cocking his head to the side in confusion. "Isn't that impossible?" Airidan chuckled.

"It is entirely possible. You see, while the town is indeed built on the lake as implied by its name, it is not very far offshore. Assuming nothing has changed, there's a walkway built right out to the town's front gate.

"How far?" asked Thorin, glancing at Sara, Dwalin and Kili.

"Perhaps some 15 miles to the North," said Airidan. Unease grew in Thorin's chest. They were sure to move slowly with the injured and with orcs no doubt on their trail...

"We may not survive that trip by foot," said Balin, echoing Thorin's own thoughts.

"Then we tend to the wounded," said Thorin. He turned to the rest of the company. "Stack the barrels ready for transport. It's imperative we barter a ride to Lake-town." He strode over to where Oin was tending to Dwalin. Kili sat on a rock nearby, his head in his hands.

"How is he?" he asked, nodding to Dwalin. Oin looked up from his work only momentarily as he wound bandaging around Dwalin's chest and shoulder.

"He will recover," replied the healer curtly. Thorin got the distinct impression Oin was holding back.

"What troubles your mind Oin," prodded Thorin wearily.

"I don't very much like my patients being paraded around and nearly drowned. His new wound is not the issue."

"Spit it out then," grumbled Dwain, idly cracking his knuckles and wincing as Oin tied the final not with a slight jerk. The healer glared disapprovingly at the warrior before responding.

"You are still mending from the spider attack. Your strength has not yet recovered and if you continue this reckless behavior I cannot say what will become of the strength of your arm in future." Thorin pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Is there anything that we can do to allow Dwalin to reach Lake-town on foot if need be? What of the herbs you gave him to add to his strength for our escape?"

"It is not wise to use another dose so soon after the last," snorted Oin, attempting to help Dwalin into a new shirt. Dwalin pushed his hands away.

"I can dress myself," he groused.

"Why not?" asked Thorin. Oin let out a huff and left Dwalin to his own devices.

"Its effects are quite potent and while it does grant a boost of stamina, it also slows the overall healing process of the body. That last dose will have set him back a few days of recovery already."

"I'll be fine," insisted Dwalin, tugging his shirt into place and rising slowly to his feet. Thorin's own observations told him otherwise. The warriors legs trembled ever-so-slightly and a red flush was creeping up his neck to his pale face. Dwalin moved toward the dock where the others were fishing the last of the barrels from the water.

"You should rest," said Thorin, catching his shoulder. "Let the others do the work. Don't overtax yourself."

"I'll say when I'm overtaxed," growled Dwalin under his breath. "Besides, I was not going to help. I'm going to tend to Sara?"

"Is she injured?" asked Oin, glancing at Sara's hunched form.

"Not in any way you can mend," answered Dwalin.

"She requested some space," said Thorin.

"Perhaps she did, but she shouldn't be left alone with her thoughts too long. If I know her at all she will be blaming herself for the elf's death."

"You think so?" asked Thorin, turning to look at her again.

"Can't ya remember the first time you saw death?" asked Dwalin, his eyes boring into him.

"Indeed I can," said Thorin after a moment, a sick feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. "Let me go to her."

"Nay, I will go. I have some things I must say to her." Thorin watched his friend for a moment weighing his desire with Dwalin's.

"Alright," said Thorin, releasing Dwalin's shoulder and going to retrieve Sara's pack from the pile. He handed it to Dwalin. "Here, she should not sit in those wet clothes too long. And take this as well." He held out his coat which had been spared the wet as it had been stashed in the center barrel of the raft. Dwalin nodded, taking the coat and set off up the beach. Thorin watched his halting step for a few moments before returning his attention to Oin.

"What of the others?"

"I have not looked at them yet," said Oin. "I was about to attend Kili." His nephew looked up at him, face pale and sickly.

"It's just an arrow wound," said Kili, looking away. "You can help the others. Fili already pulled the arrow head out and we cleaned and bandaged it. I'll be fine."

"You don't look fine," said Oin skeptically.

"I have handled arrow wounds before," said Kili, impatiently, sliding down to sit on the ground with his back against the rock.

"You look ill," said Thorin. "Speak truly sister son."

"I don't feel wonderful," admitted Kili leaning his head back on the rock, a hand over his stomach, his eyes closed. "But I suspect that has more to do with the long barrel ride than anything else. My stomach did not agree with the eagles ether." Thorin could well remember his own reaction to the ride upon the eagle back. "Really I'll be fine. Take a look at Ori, he had a gash on his arm." He pointed to wear it when Ori sat between his brothers, Dory fussing over him.

"Very well," said Oin, gathering his bag. "I will tend to him and check on the others. But inform me if you have any untoward symptoms. Understood?" Kili nodded as the healer trudged off.

"Deep breaths through your nose," suggested Thorin, remembering Sara's advice for nausea. Kili did not move or open his eyes but subtly shifted his breathing accordingly. Thorin turned his attention back to the rest of the company, but could not keep his eyes from darting to the figures further down the beach.

The waves washed in and out, in and out, back and forth, gently tumbling the pebbles on the beach, gradually chipping away at them until eventually they disintegrated into the fine sand at her feet. Sara wondered idly if the waves could do the same to the leaden lump behind her breast bone. Her head hurt from all the crying, her face puffy and hot, and the back of her throat burned with the aftermath of her stomach's earlier rebellion. She could hear approaching footsteps behind her but she did not turn to see who it was, simply pretending she was oblivious.

She knew it was dangerous to wander too far from the others, but she could not stand to be around the others right now. After floating down a majority of the river in Thorin's arms, the tears slipping down her face as the others looked on, she needed some space. But apparently she was not even allowed that. A pair of heavy boots came into view to her right and the log beneath her sunk a few more centimeters into the sand. Out of the corner of her eyes she could see her pack slip to the ground.

"I don't really want to be around anyone right now Dwalin." A heavy coat settled around her shoulders and Thorin's smell flooded her nose. She didn't shrug it off, but neither did she pull it further around her body. They sat in silence for several long minutes before Dwalin dug in her pack and pressed a water skin into her hands.

"I imagine the water would be welcome about now," he said.

"I told Thorin I wanted some space," she said attempting to keep the anger from her voice as she squished the water skin in her hands, trying to distract herself from the pressure building behind her eyes.

"He understands yer desire."

"And you don't?" she said dryly.

"I'm not that dense lass," he said snorting. "But it's not safe for ya to be alone right now."

"There are no orcs around."

"Ya don't know that, but even if there weren't I would not want ya on yer own. One's mind is apt to twist into dark paths after events like today. Besides there are some things I need to say to ya."

"If it's more skepticism about the elves, the plan, or how I need to be more careful you can save it. I'm not in the mood."

"Lass, I didn't come over here to pick a fight," he said sighing. "I just thought…"

"What?" she prompted impatiently, her stinging eyes warning her of her tenuous hold on her emotions.

"I still owe you an apology... and an explanation."

"And it can't wait?" she asked, turning her head away and surreptitiously swiping at her wet cheeks.

"It could," he said, running a battle calloused hand over his bald scalp. "But I think what I have to say may be of some help to you at the moment. At the very least it's a distraction."

"Well then you better make it quick. I doubt we will be here for very long," she said.

"True enough lass," he said, looking back at the company. Sara could see Thorin watching them. She groaned internally, knowing she was being unfair to Dwalin. But it was... hard looking at him and not thinking of the way he and Ruven had fought so hard to protect her earlier. She didn't think she would ever forget that the tang of his blood in her mouth or the shocked look on his face as his eyes had lost that spark of life. The silence stretched on for so long that for a while Sara was convinced that Dwalin had changed his mind, but them he spoke.

"I was 27 the first time I saw death saw the death of a companion." She said nothing but looked at her hands, half-heartedly picking at the grime under her fingernails until she realized it was probably Ruven's blood. Queasily she let her hands drop and tried to ignore the red stains on the front of her torn dress and trousers. Even her elven boots were stained a dull rusty brown.

"When the Battle of Azanulbizar commenced I was too young to be considered battle ready, but Balin on the other hand was at the age of 36. I watched my father, uncle, and brother all ready themselves for war that day. Ya see our mother and aunt had both died some years before and we had all been living together for some time since. Did ya know that Oin and Gloin are my first cousins?" She shook her head.

"Aye, they are. We spend many years together growing up."

"I suppose that would explain why they chose to go with you when you left," said Sara, glancing at him. He winced.

"Yes I suppose that's part of it, but none of us were eager to see a battle the likes of which we saw that day ever again."

"But I thought you said you were too young?"

"Aye, and so we were. Oin was 25 and Gloin was a mere 16."

"Well then how did you wind up and battle?" she asked.

"Isn't it obvious lass? The three of us snuck into the army leaving that day."

"But why?" she asked. "That seems incredibly stupid."

"It was, but then I've never been accused of using my head at all times, and as I say, we were young."

"That still doesn't explain why."

"Balin," he stated simply, bending to retrieve a twig at his feet. "Although he is nine years my senior, I have always been more inclined to combat than he." He paused for a moment, snapping the twig into bits as he gathered his thoughts. "I can still see the shear panic in my brothers eyes as he followed my father and uncle out the door that day."

"It's kind of hard imagining Balin suiting up for battle," said Sara, finding that Dwalin's tale had engrossed her. "I mean I know you are all capable in a fight… but I have always seen Balin as more of a lover than a fighter."

"Balin had never had a lover," said Dwalin confused.

"I don't mean that literally, just that he would rather avoid conflict. He's more likely to talk through a problem then start a fight. It's just an expression." He mulled that over for a moment.

"Aye, in that regard I guess ya would be correct. At any rate, Oin, Gloin, and myself stole our way into battle, and what a battle it was. Hardly the time for us three to wet our blades the first time. I saw so many of our people dead or dying that day. We lost our father that day," he said.

"Was he the one you saw die?" asked Sara cautiously. Dwalin shook his head.

"No, he died defending King Thrain. Balin was the one who held our father as he lay dying. The last time I saw my father alive was when he walked out the door."

"I'm sorry," said Sara.

"Nay lass, it was a long time ago. No, the one I saw perish was my third cousin Prince Frerin. But while his death was terrible, it was the effect on those left behind that shook me most. Oin, Gloin, and I soon realized that we were in way over our heads. We were attempting to make our way to the king as that was where our kin would be but we soon met with resistance we were not prepared for."

"What happened?" Dwalin glanced down at her.

"I have fought Bolg before," he said simply. "In the battle of Azanulbizar."

"You mean the orc from earlier today? The one who…" but she could not finish.

"Yes that one," said Dwalin darkly. "He may have grown more mutilated over the years but I will never forget his face, though I did not know his name till today. He and two of his cronies engaged the three of us in battle, but we were woefully unprepared to face them. I'm not ashamed to admit that things were out of hand. Little Gloin had managed to kill his assailant but had also gone down with a severe injury. Oin also overcame his attacker but when he came to my aid against Azog he caught a rather nasty blow to the right side of his head. It's the reason he is hard of hearing in that ear. Thankfully he is not completely deaf." Sara pondered that for a moment and realize that despite Oin having lost his hearing trumpet long ago, he was still able to communicate effectively."

"So he really can hear?" she asked, checking.

"Oh Aye. Ya may have to speak louder if yer on his right side, but he can hear ya. He plays it up a bit more than is strictly necessary." Sara could not help the amused huff that escaped her.

"So how did you get away from Bolg?" she asked, urging him to continue.

"As it turns out we three were not the only ones to have snuck into battle that day. I was probably only a blow or two away from falling under Bolg's mace," said Dwalin, his hand drifting absently to his right ear.

"Is that what happened to your ear?" she asked tentatively. She had often wondered how his right ear had come to be missing such a large chunk, but had never quite worked up the courage to ask before.

"Aye," he said, his hand falling to his lap in a tight fist. "Bolg bit a chunk out of my ear that day."

"Seriously?" asked Sara, her stomach turning over at the thought. Dwalin nodded.

"Pity he didn't choke on it," said the dwarf, spitting into the sand. Sara waited for his ire to fade and his hand to relax.

"So how did you escape?"

"Rescued is more true," side Dwalin, tossing the broken remnants of the twig into the lake. "Just as I was sure I would I would fall, a dwarf step between us. They were so fleet and agile, pushing the orc back. I had soon regained my feet and together we drove him back, but before either of us could deliver the killing Bolg made his escape."

"But who rescued you?" asked Sara.

"You are aware of Thorin's younger siblings Frerin and Lady Dis?" Sara nodded. "Ya see although we do share a great great grandfather, I had not seen much of Thorin and his siblings up to that point. Only at public appearances. It was a very busy time for our people, trying to settle into the Blue Mountains and then the nine years of war prior to the final battle."

"When did you become so close to Thorin?"

"Shortly after the battle, but it was Lady Dis who I befriended first. As I say we three were not the only ones who snuck into battle that day, for no doubt she had been forbidden from the battle as well."

"Wait," said Sara. "You mean lady Dis?" Dwalin grinned.

"Aye lass, Lady Dis was the one who saved us. I had seen her from afar before, but the last place I thought to see her was on the battlefield that day. Thank Mahal she was. She saved our sorry hides but the fight was far from over. After she revealed herself to us I felt honor-bound to see her safely to her kin, not that she needed looking after as she had clearly proven. We got Oin and Gloin to safety and then returned to our search." Here Dwalin's face darkened and he grew silent for a few moments.

"By the time we found Frerin on the battlefield the orcs had mutilated his body, torturing and leaving him for dead. Dis's screams and sobs of agony still come to me in the night at times. It… it took a long time for Frerin to pass into the halls of our fathers and the orcs had made sure it would be a painful process. Dis had to watch it happen. At only 39 she had already lost her mother and grandfather, but that day she lost her father and brother as well. While she comforted Frerin in his final moments and mourned his loss I protected her. It wasn't until after the battle that Thorin found us. It nearly broke them both. So many were killed that day. I'll never forget the other anguish of that day." Dwalin sat in silence for a few moments, letting his mind wander in the past.

"After the battle that day Oin and Gloin's father, Groin, was our only adult living relative so we all moved in together, Oin, Gloin, Blain, Dis, Thorin, myself and Groin."

"But Thorin was the king wasn't he?" asked Sara. "Surely he didn't need a parent figure."

"Perhaps Thorin didn't need one for himself," said Dwalin. "But that didn't mean he was ready to take on the task of raising his sister alongside the duties of a new king. We were all still considered too young to be on our own. Besides which, after that day's losses it felt good to stay close to family. Dain had to go back to his mother and to lead the people of the Iron Hills. All that was left for Thorin and Dis were us. No matter how distantly related kin is still kin."

"I suppose so. So you all grew up together for a time," said Sara, mulling over all this new information. "For how long?"

"We were meant to stay with Thorin and Dis until Thorin turned 65 and became a proper adult, but as the years passed Balin and I grew closer and closer to Thorin and Dis. Eventually Oin and Gloin moved away to follow their own lives but Balin and I had become closer than brothers with Thorin and so we stayed by his side. And Dis," here Dwalin paused and blew out a heavy breath. "Dis... she moved on as well when she found Vili."

"Vili?"

"The lad's father," said Dwalin nodding in the direction of Fili and Kili. She glanced at them, Kili sitting against a rock, picking at the bandaging on his leg as Fili passed him rolling a barrel onto the shore.

"They never really talk much about their father," she said.

"They don't have many memories of him, and in Kill's case none. He died before Kili was born."

"Oh," said Sara, a weight clunking into place in her chest.

"Vili's death was devastating for Dis," said Dwalin. For a long time she was in a bad way. Kili was born early and small, but Dis… well she was still in mourning. I hated seeing her so heartbroken. I would have done anything to take it away." The melancholy in Dwalin's voice was all too clear and it tugged at the frayed edges of Sara's emotions. But as she watched a new expression overtook his face.

"Did you…" began Sara, not sure how to ask. "Did you… care for Lady Dis?" Dwalin glanced down at her, surprise painting his face, but she could tell by his reaction that her suspicions had been correct.

"Balin says ya are intuitive," said Dwalin. "Yes Lass, I did care for her."

"Still?" asked Sara carefully. "Dwalin nodded. "Did she or Thorin ever know?" He shook his head.

"Only two others have ever known and one of them is dead." Sara looked over her shoulder at Balin who glanced up at her as if sensing her gaze. There was concern clear in the set of his features.

"Is Balin the other?" Dwalin nodded. "But... but then why tell me?" she asked.

"Well for one because ya guessed and because I meant to tell ya anyway. In order to make my apology ya must understand my motives or it would be hollow otherwise."

"But what does this have to do with your apology to me?"

"I was there when Vili died," said Dwalin wringing his fingers together. "We had accompanied Thorin on a journey to one of the other dwarf clans but we were ambushed by a pack of orcs in the night. Before we knew what was upon us Vili was struck down. It was a mortal wound and we could do nothing for him. I was about avenge him but he caught me and held me back as the others fought off the enemy. Before he died he made me swear an oath to him. He made me swear to do all in my power to protect Dis, their children and Thorin."

"But why you and not Thorin," asked Sara, but as soon as she had asked she knew the answer. "He knew how you felt about Dis, didn't he?" Dwalin sighed and nodded his head.

"Aye he did, said any husband would be a fool not to notice. He wanted Dis to be happy and the boys to be safe. Said Dis had already lost enough in her life and should not have to bury any more loved ones." Dwalin got to his feet kicking a small piece of driftwood into the waves as he began to pace, his arms folded over his chest.

"Why didn't you ever tell Dis how you felt?" asked Sara, digging the toe of her boot into the sand.

"I hardly realized how I felt until it was too late. By then she had found Vili and I had lost my chance."

"Well why not after?"

"It was not my place," he said. "And she has never shown an interest in more than anything than camaraderie. Over the years my feelings for her changed and I poured more purpose and energy into the oath I took." Dwalin rounded on her. " In many ways ya remind me of her. I suppose that's what I saw in ya from the start that day in Bilbo's kitchen."

"You could tell that about me even then?" Dwalin smiled faintly.

"Aye lass, the way ya scolded the boys for their muddy boots and stood up for little Bilbo. Ya were in a foreign environment but ya never lost yer spark. Ya wouldn't let any of us walk over ya. I could tell back then."

Sara thought back to that day and the first time she had met him. The way he had sought her out after Thorin had stormed off. The help and encouragement he had offered to her from the beginning. The care, tender in his own way, that he had shown her. His protection and teaching. He had been the first other than Bilbo and Gandalf to befriend her, and he had been the first of the company to really trust her. And how had she repaid him?

"Dwalin," she stammered, the memories catching in her throat and causing her yes to sting. "I'm sorry I kept secrets from you. It was no way to repay you for all you have done for me. I never even stopped to thank you. I don't know how I would have made it this far without your help."

"You would have made it the lass. The boys would have seen to it." Sara shook her head.

"No," she insisted. "They were kind to me and good friends, but you were attentive and patient with me from the beginning. When I didn't know how to do something you helped me learn it for myself. You trusted me before any of the others did and you never doubted me. I'm so sorry I betrayed that trust." She swiped her cheeks, trying to hide the tears before he saw. He sat down behind beside her.

"Lass?" She didn't look at him. "Sara," he called. She turned to meet his gaze. "Lass, I told ya this because I need to make my own apologies. Gandalf and ya were exactly right about how I'd react. I was angry and I took it out on ya and that was not right. For years I have fought to keep Thorin, Fili and Kili safe. It's no small feat. Many of my scars were taking in their place. The oath I took has kept me going since that day. It has become my purpose, to keep Dis from heartache, and when ya told me that this quest would end in their deaths…."

"I took all that work and threw it in your face," she said, finally understanding his ire that day. He nodded.

"It enraged me that after years... nay decades of work that I was ultimately fated to fail my oath to Vili."

"I felt the same way the first way when I finished the book," she admitted. "I was so angry with the Valar for bringing me here to be with you, only to lose them."

"I'm sorry for the words I spoke to ya that night," said Dwalin. "I spoke out of my anger and grief. What I said was neither fair nor true."

"I'm sorry for keeping secrets," she said. "And for punching you." Dwalin rubbed at his jaw.

"It was a good blow and well deserved. But I could teach ya to do better if ya would let me." She chuckled.

"You want to teach me how to punch you harder?"

"Well not me in particular, but I would make amends with ya. Also yer training has fallen sorely by the wayside."

"You forgive me then?" she asked.

"If ya can forgive me lass," he replied.

"Can I ask you something? Why did you choose to leave?" Dwalin blew out of breath.

"Perhaps I hoped drastic measures would bring Thorin to his senses." He paused. "When I had a chance to come to my own I realized what I had done and came back. Besides if ya were planning to buck fate and give your all to change the future then ya can count me in."

"Even if it involves elves?" she asked, raising a brow. His face fell and he looked out at the lake contemplating his next words.

"I won't pretend I love elves," he began, absently cracking his knuckles. "And that will probably never change. But after today with that elf…"

"Ruven," supplied Sara somberly.

"Ruven," continued Dwalin, as if tasting the name. "When Ruven did for ya what I could not… well I can't very well hate them either. He gave his life in defense of yers. Had I not been so angry and stubborn I would have never split from the company. It was due to the split and my pride that I was injured by the spider. Had I not been injured I would have had the strength to protect ya today." The pressure was building in her chest as he spoke until at last the memory was too sharp. Her shoulders shook with a sob she tried to conceal.

"Sara," called Dwalin softly.

"It's my fault," she sobbed, hunching over. "He's dead because of me, because I wasn't strong enough. He's gone forever." Dwalin's hand found her shoulders and gently forced her to sit up until he could see her face.

"That's rubbish lass. None of this is yer fault. Ruven made his own decisions. The only one at fault is Bolg. I told ya, he's a menace, an animal who enjoys inflicting pain on any he comes across. None of this is to be laid at yer feet. Don't let yerself go down that path lass, it's a dark place and not one that's easily returned from. Trust me."

"But what if someone else dies while trying to protect me?" She swiped furiously at the tears sliding down her face. "What if it's you or Thorin or one of the others. I'm so scared Dwalin." He sighed and pulled her into a rough embrace.

"Lass," he said over his shoulder. He pulled her back and looked her in the eyes. His were bright and fierce. "Ya listen to me lass, no matter what happens or who dies it's not yer fault. Ya have done and will continue to do yer very best to ensure we have the best chance possible, but nothing is assured. Ya can't stop war or death lass." His shoulder shagged a bit. "I won't lie to you Sara, there are more lives other than Ruven who will be lost before this is over, but none of it is yer fault."

"But my decisions could impact so many."

"For the better lass. Ya have worked hard to instill hope and faith in others, don't go losing it in yerself. Things will work out the way they're meant to." He pulled her close, holding her tight as she rubbed tears from her face. "I promise to have yer back from now on. No matter what."

"No matter what?"

"No matter what."

Thorin stood by the stack barrels on the end of the dock, his arms crossed as they all watched the barge draw closer to them over the icy stood to his right, leaning slightly to ease the pressure on his wounded leg. Up the beach Sara and Dwalin were slowly returning to the group. She had changed from her wet clothes and wore his coat, the hood pulled up over her head. Despite the chill breeze floating to them over the water she looked warm. That was a relief, but despite her relative bodily comfort he could still see the bone-deep weariness in the sag of her shoulders. She glanced nervously at the forest at the edge of the beach. Dwalin reached to rest a hand between her shoulder blades as a bit of the tension melted from her frame. At least the two had made amends.

Behind him there was a sneeze and a sniffle. Bilbo had changed but it seemed that illness was likely to catch the little hobbit. Hopefully they would be in Lake-town before it became too severe. Kili turned and hobbled over to stand close beside Bilbo and they were soon joined by the elf captain Tauriel who produced a damp handkerchief from her pocket. Bilbo took it gratefully.

The barge was nearing them now, but instead of coming straight into shore it turned and floated along the bank. It was the size of two or three large wagons and was equipped with a sail. As unfamiliar with watercraft as Thorin was, the barge appeared to be old but in decent condition, large enough to suit their needs. The man aboard looked less than thrilled to spy a party of strangers between him and the barrels. He was tall and lean with dark hair that fell in stringy waves to his shoulders. Clad in a tattered leather coat and plain woven clothing he watched them warily from the deck of the boat, a bow held loosely in his hands, an iron tipped arrow notched and ready to fly.

"Who are you and what business do you have here?" called the man, the bowstring tensing slightly. Thorin's hand inched subconsciously toward Orcrist at his belt. The man's eyes roved over the group, taking in all the unfamiliar faces. "What are dwarves doing in these parts and in the company of elves no less?"

"We seek passage to Lake-town," called Thorin in return. "We are seeking an audience with the master of the lake. We bring a dire warning and wish to broker an alliance with him." At last Sara and Dwalin reached the group and she came to stand him. She pulled the hood from her face. The man on the barge looked her over and his brows drew closer together in suspicion.

"Why do you travel with a human woman?" He sounded agitated and had pulled the arrow back entirely aiming at Thorin. "What have you done to her?"

"They have done nothing," said Sara, stepping in front of him, her voice strong and clear. "I travel with them of my own free choice."

"Where do you hail from, Miss?" asked the man, not lowering his bow.

"Bree," lied Sara quickly, the truth too difficult to explain.

"That's a long way," said the man. "Why travel with them?"

"As you say it is a long way and a very dangerous road," said Sara. "My friends have seen me safely through it all so if you would please lower your bow. We mean you no harm." The man hesitated before lowering the bow slightly but not removing the arrow from the cord. Thorin pulled her to his side, disliking her acting as his shield.

"What business have you in Lake-town Miss?"

"I too wish to see the master of the lake."

"On their behalf?" he asked, nodding to the others.

"While I share in their purpose, I have reasons of my own to come to Lake-town. I am seeking my family." The barge was drifting closer, now only some 15 feet away from the dock.

"Who are you and your companions?" called the man.

"I am called Sara Miller." She glanced at him and Thorin nodded for her to continue. If a man was more at ease conversing with one of his own race then so be it. She reached for his arm and he took her hand firmly. "This is Thorin Oakenshield, king of the dwarves and his company from the Blue Mountains." The man watched them warily, his eyes lingering on their joined hands longest.

"And what are these dwarves to you?" he asked.

"Friends, companions, brothers, and more," she replied.

"How much more?"

"That I think is none of your business," she replied coolly.

"As you say," said the man, bowing his head slightly. "You will forgive my curiosity. It's not often we see dwarves and never in the company of others, but here I see four races traveling together. The elves I can guess are from Mirkwood, but who is the small fellow there?" he asked, pointing at Bilbo.

"He is my good friend Mr. Bilbo Baggins of the Shire."

"He's rather a long way from home?" Bilbo sneezed again. "And in rather poor health. In fact you all seem a bit worse for wear."

"A state which we wish to remedy," said Legolas coming to stand on Sara's other side.

"And who are you?"

"I am Legolas, son of Thranduil king of the elves of Mirkwood."

"Forgive me," said the man, releasing his hold on the arrow and bowing slightly. "I meant no offence."

"None taken," replied Legolas. "You are right to be wary in such turbulent times."

"Oh come on, come on," grumbled Dwalin loudly, nursing his injured shoulder. "Enough with the niceties."

"What's your hurry?" asked the man, watching Dwalin.

"What's it to ya?" answered Dwalin glibly.

"Everything if you intend to enter Lake-town. The people there have enough trouble without adding more. The state of those barrels would be enough to give rise to anyone's suspicions. What happened and why are you all so uneasy?"

"We have had an encounter with an unfriendly pack of orcs," said Airidan.

"There is no such thing as a friendly orc pack in my experience," said the man, re-stringing his bow, his eyes moving to survey the woods behind them.

"We escaped on rafts made of these barrels."

"Escaped?" echoed the bargeman. "What makes you think I would help you when you are being tracked by a pack of orcs?"

"We can pay," said Nori, withdrawing a fat purse from his pocket and handing it to Thorin. He took it and resisted the urge to shake his head. Knowing Nori this was not strictly speaking their own money to spend. By the look on Legolas face the elf was also aware of this, but he nodded his approval anyway. Balin picked up the conversation.

"Those boots have seen better days, as has that coat," he said in his best diplomats voice. "And no doubt you also have hungry mouths to feed. How many bairns have you?" The man's face softened only slightly.

"A boy and two girls," he replied.

"And your wife I imagine she is a beauty?"

"Aye, she was," said the man, his face falling. "Which is why I know the dangers of an orc pack all too well." The barge bumped up against the dock and the man moved to secure it quickly.

"If you would spare others that same pain," said Thorin, as Fili stepped forward to help the man. "Then you will take us to see the master of the lake. Our warning to him concerns an army of orcs and goblins amassing in the west. They will be here in a little under two months."

"How would you know such things?" asked the bargeman, pausing in his work but not looking up.

"We traveled from the west," said Sara. "We have seen them."

"Have you any proof of those claims?" Thorin fought back his irritation knowing he would have been more than skeptical if the roles were reversed.

"My word as king and the witness of my company."

"And the word of the prince of your allies," said Legolas. "My father has confirmed it with Lord Elrond of Rivendell. Even should you find it hard to believe us, by rights of your agreement with my people we have a right to speak to the master of the lake." The man mulled that over for a moment, his eyes moving from one face to another as he weighed his options.

"Please," urged Sara. The man looked at her, his eyes lingering on her face for a long moment.

"Help me load these barrels," said the man gesturing to the stack. "If you are being tracked we should leave quickly. We will have to stack them if there is to be room for all." Thorin breathed an inaudible sigh of relief and the others moved to load the cargo.

"Just remember," said the man. "Any attack on Lake-town will be on your head."

"I will station two of my guards at your front gate if it will help put you at ease," said Legolas.

"It might," said the man. "But there are many ways into Lake-town."

"Excuse me," said Bilbo politely, drawing them out of the conversion. He was carrying a stack of barrel lids in his arms. "If it's not too much trouble, might we have your name?" The man bent and took the lids from the hobbit.

"Ranson," replied the man.