Chapter 55: Poison

"What's wrong with him Oin?" asked Sara, almost shouting as she fought down the panic rising like acid in her chest. Kili jerked under their hands again, his spasms growing stronger. The moment she, Thorin, Fili, and Legolas had arrived back at the bargeman's home it was clear that Kili had taken a fatal turn. There was panic in Ranson's face as he ushered them inside and then shewed Bain and Tilda to the back bedrooms.

Sara had never seen these kinds of symptoms before outside of movies and television, and seeing them now in person was terrifying. Despite Kili's extreme temperature, his face was drained of all pigment save his bloodshot eyes, which were rolled back in his head. His hair lay plastered to his face amidst the perspiration that drenched his entire body and the black veins that had covered Kili's outer thigh earlier in the day had crept around to his inner leg and were now spreading over his hip and up to circle his navel. Not only had the veins spread, but they were also noticeably raised above his skin, like small tentacles that had wound their way under his skin. Sigrid had backed off, utterly exhausted and at a complete loss of what to do. Oin didn't appear much better as he answer her.

"I don't know lass," he said, wiping his brow. "This illness is unfamiliar to me, and it doesn't act like any other I have encountered. It doesn't respond to anything I do. It's not natural"

"You have to do something!" urged Fili as they held Kili down lest his spasms cause him to jerk and fall off the table.

"I am aware of that," snapped Oin. "But what?" Kili flailed again, his head bouncing on the table before Sigrid came and held it down, grunting with effort.

"Isn't there anything we can do?" asked Sara, her eyes searching the faces of her companions. She was met with fear, and more terrifying, resignation. It wasn't until she looked to Legolas that she found a modicum of hope. "Legolas?" He stepped forward, a thoughtful frown pulling at his lips.

"Hold him as still as you can," he instructed.

"What do you think we're doing?" asked Fili, gritting his teeth as Kili jerked once again. Legolas ignored him, bending over Kili's leg and placed three fingers over the wound, muttering something in Elvish. Kili let out a strangled cry of pain and fell limp, his breathing ragged and short. Legolas's cheeks paled as he pulled back.

"What happened to him?" demanded Fili, watching his brother with frantic eyes. "What did you do?"

"It wasn't him Lad," assured Oin. "It was the end of the fit."

"How many has he had?" asked Legolas?"

"This has been his third one thus far, and so far, the worst.

"What do …" began Thorin.

"I will return shortly," said Legolas. "Your healer is correct. This is not a natural illness. I can not believe we missed this before, but I have only ever heard of such wounds, never seen one in person."

"What does that mean?" asked Thorin. "Where are you going?"

"Not now, time is short," replied the elf, and with that he turned and fairly fled out the door. Sara just stared after him, trying to squash her frustration and fear. Two more of Kili's fits had come and gone by the time the elf prince returned clutching a handful of green leafy plants in one hand, Tauriel trailing after him. The elf captain looked confused. Oin spotted the leaves.

"I have already tried Kingsfoil, but it had no effect," said the healer, sounding exasperated and a bit offended.

"I know," said Legolas. "But if we are to purge him of the poison then we will need this. This is no ordinary wound."

"What do you mean?" asked Thorin. Legolas said something to Tauriel in elvish and she stepped forward to place her hand over Kili's wound, muttering as Legolas had. She jerked her hand back as if stung. Their conversation continued on in elvish back and forth for a moment.

"It doesn't matter," argued Tauriel, at last breaking back into the common tongue. "If we do nothing he will die, or suffer a fate worse than death."

"Then I should do it," argued Legolas.

"No," said Tauriel. "I will do it. We both know I have a greater affinity for this type of magic than you or Airidan. Normally it would be Myrin, but he's not here. It must be me if any. He will not live to see the morning."

"What are you talking about," growled Thorin impatiently as Ranson returned from the back rooms.

"He's been poisoned by a Morgul weapon," said Legolas, shortly. "Or, at least something very akin to it." Sara's heart skipped a beat.

"Morgul?" asked Fili, confused, but Sara could see the blood drain from Thorin's face

"Yes," replied Legolas. "Morgal weapons are said to be wielded or cursed by the nine servants of Sauron himself." A hush fell over the room.

"The Nazgul?" asked Sara, closing her eyes, dreading the confirmation.

"Yes," said Legolas. Her heart stalled altogether as dread flooded her lungs like ice.

"It would seem you have very powerful and dangerous enemies," said Ranson quietly as he regarded the group just outside the ring of candle light, Sigrid by his side.

"You have no idea," said Fili.

"Don't be so quick to judge," replied the bargeman. "I was not always as I am now." There was a strange resignation on the man's face as he said this, and Sara wondered not for the first time what secrets lay behind those grey eyes. Even Sigrid seemed confused by his comment. But the moment was broken as Kili began to writhe once again, requiring them all to grab a limb. As quickly as it came, it went and Kili was still once more, his breathing now hardly perceptible at all.

"It's now or never," said Tauriel.

"What?" asked Fili.

"There is said to be only one cure," said Legolas. "But since most had assumed Sauron to be defeated, the practice has slipped into the past, mostly forgotten."

"We must fight magic with magic," said Tauriel.

"It is dangerous," asked Sara.

"Can you save him?" asked Fili, watching the elves, hope not quite daring to creep across his face. Tauriel met his eyes unblinking.

"We can try," said Tauriel. "But I will not proceed with your consent. It is quite dangerous." Fili looked to Thorin.

"You believe this will cure him?" asked Thorin.

"I do. And even if I should be wrong, it is clear that if we do nothing it will be too late for another to try." Sara watched Thorin's face twist in worry as Kili began to writhe beneath their hands once again. His cries were getting weaker.

"Do it." Thorin's voice was on the edge of cracking but he did not take his eyes from his nephew. "Do whatever it takes to save him." He looked up at Tauriel. "Please."

It was as if a switch had been flipped in Tauriel as she took charge. Taking the plants from Legolas she handed half to Oin before rubbing the rest vigorously between her hands.

"If you would please grind this Athelas or as you call it Kingsfoil into a paste." She looked around at the rest of them. "There are two spells he requires and I'm afraid the first is reported to be quite painful, but we must work to keep him as still as possible. If he thrashes about it will only cause the poison to spread more rapidly throughout his body. You must hold him down. Once I begin the spell I may not stop until it is complete." Fili and Ranson each took a leg as Sara and Thorin reached for his arms, nodding their understanding. Oin worked the tender plants into a paste and in a few moments he handed the little bowl to Tauriel. She wiped Kili's exposed leg with a rag dipped in the paste before looking up at them.

"Ready?"

They nodded, reaching to hold Kili down as Tauriel pressed her hands firmly to his injury. Kili jerked so violently at her touch that it was all Sara could do to hold onto his arm. She had almost lost her grip when Sigrid leapt forward and together they pulled his arm down to the table once more. Thorin had a firm grip on Kili's bare shoulder and wrist while Ranson and Fili had all their weight pressed into his legs to still him. Legolas stood opposite Tauriel and had his hands on Kilis hip and the middle of his chest. Even with all their combined effort it was difficult to hold Kili down, but at last he was contained. Tauriel began to chant, the elvish words flowing from her mouth with power and authority, sounding more like and order than a spell.

At first Kili was still, only his face showing pain but as Tauriel continued he began to spasm and cry out. Kili's agony sent equal measures of fear and grief throbbing through Sara. She could not stand to see his face contorted in agony as she and Sigrid held his arm down, but it was seeing Thorin's reaction that did her in. His face was white, true fear marring his usually stoic features as he watched Kili struggle under his grip. She could only imagine what must be going through his mind. Were they fated to lose yet another of their own? She dreaded Kili's dead eyes staring back at her, and suddenly as is struck by deja vu she remembered the vision in Galadriel's mirror. She squeezed her eyes shut, tucking her head to the side, trying to block out the memories and Kili's screams, but to not avail. She had seen this very scene in the water; this and many others. Unbidden, other images surfaced, images she had been so sure at the time spelled the end for her companions, and yet they had made it through. Situations that had seemed impossible, and yet they had lived to meet the next, despite all odds. This would be just like the others. Kili would be fine. They would not lose him. She had to believe it. Anything else was unbearable. Tauriel's voice grew louder as Kili's thrashing became more frantic.

"What's happening?" asked Sigrid, her voice cracking with fear and alarm. "What's happening to him?"

Sara raised her head to see the girl's wide eyes fixed on Kili's abdomen. The black veins that encircled his navel were visibly creeping upwards, worming their way under his skin like dark maggots burrowing their way towards... towards his heart, she realized with dumbfound horror. Kili's back arched, his mouth wrenched open in agony so acute his scream was silent.

"What's going on?" asked Fili, watching his brother, his knuckles as white as his face as he worked to hold Kili down.

"Be still," admonished Legolas quietly, watching Tauriel with concern.

"It's moving?" cried Sigrid. "What is it?" Sara watched as the tendrils inched higher, now only a handspan from Kili's heart. They moved inexorably upward, bit by painful bit, pulsating, burrowing ever closer to their vital target.

"Tauriel," called Legolas, his gaze now tracking the veins progress. Tauriel must have heard him for her voice grew louder still, her Elvin words more demanding, filling every crevice in the room, pounding in Sara's ears, assaulting them. The veins were mere centimeters from where she guessed Kili's heart to be, and she silently urged the spell to work faster, whatever it was doing. Kili's back arched again, his muscles strained to the max, unyielding as stone and she and Sigrid could no longer hold his arm down as it pulled toward his chest, his fingers rigid and curled in on themselves. He let out a strangled scream and collapsed to the table with a shutter, completely limp. Panic jolted through Sara's chest like icy needles. Kili was not moving. Why wasn't he breathing? Tauriel's chant came to an abrupt end and Sara looked frantically between the two elves.

"What happened?" asked Thorin, his voice cracking as he watched Kili's lifeless face.

"I… I'm not certain," she said, quickly leaning over Kili, delicate fingers pressing under his jaw. They waited, breath frozen in their lungs. Tauriel looked to Legolas, ashen. "He has no pulse."

Blood pounded in Sara's ears. She had not heard right.

"What?" croaked Fili.

"He… he's gone," said Tauriel.

No. No! This could not be happening. Not again. Not so soon. Not to Kili. Not to Kili! Greif like a black tidal wave threatened to push her deep into oblivion where she would sink… sink… forever sink into the crushing abyss. She was only just called back from the brink by Legolas's voice.

"Wait," he said, urgently shunting Tauriel out of the way.

"What?" asked Tauriel, but Legolas did not respond. He placed one hand over Kili's heart, the other over Kili's face with his thumb and forefinger each on his temples. Closing his eyes he muttered something unintelligible. All was still. Nothing. Legolas spoke again, more forcefully and Kili jerked under the elves hands and began to breath raggedly again. Sara's knees went weak with relief and she had to catch herself on the table to keep from collapsing to the floor. He was breathing. Kili was breathing.

"What happened?" asked Oin, coming to examine Kili's chest. Legolas caught Oin's hand before he could touch the black veins that had stopped a hair's breadth from Kili's heart.

"Tauriel nullified the magic that was driving the poison throughout his body," replied the elf prince.

"Is he okay?" asked Sara, lowering herself to sit on the bench before clasping Kili's limp hand in hers.

"He is not healed yet," said Tauriel, collapsing to the bench as well. She looked drawn, her shoulders sagging. "Although it is no longer seeking Kili's heart I must still purge the poison from his body."

"How?" asked Oin, offering Tauriel a mug. She took it without question, sipping gratefully.

"Another spell," said Legolas. "A very lengthy one. The poison has spread quite far. It will require much time and effort to draw it out of him." Sara glanced at Kili's chest, relieved to see that the creeping veins had not moved. "It was a close thing," admitted Legolas.

"Why did he stop breathing," asked Thorin, his face hidden behind his clenched fists, his elbows propped on the table.

"His body was taxed to the limit of endurance and shut down to protect itself. It occurs in rare cases of very painful magical healings. He was not truly dead, only gave the appearance of being so." Oin nodded in understanding.

"I am relieved it occurred to you to try and revive him," said Tauriel.

"What about the second spell?" asked Fili.

"Will it hurt him?" asked Sigrid, shuddering. "Purging the poison I mean." The teen looked visibly shaken, her hands trembling as she pushed a loose strand of hair back behind her ear. It did not go unnoticed by Ranson.

"Perhaps you should retire and leave this to the others," said Ranson, coming to place his hands gently on his daughter's shoulders. She shook her head.

"No. I want to finish."

"Are you sure? You don't look well."

"I'm alright Da," she assured. "I want to see this through till the end. When will I ever be able to see Elvin healing again."

"Very well," sighed Ranson.

"At least his fever has passed," said Oin, resting a hand in Kili's brow. Sara brushed a hand across Kili's cheek and was relieved that his skin no longer burned her under her fingertips.

"What can we do for him now?" asked Fili.

"Pray to the Valar that he remains unconscious," said Tauriel.

"What can we do for you then?" asked Thorin, still behind his hands. Tauriel's eyes flicked to him.

"Keep the candles lit," she said. "It is a long process and I will require help. As the poison is drawn from his body it must be handled with care and disposed of. You mustn't let it touch any open wounds or your eyes, ears, nose, or mouth. It may no longer be driven by magic but it is still a virulent toxin. It must be burned."

"I will aid you," said Oin.

"I will cut more rags," said Sigrid, standing.

"That would be well," said Tauriel. "I will not be able to stop until the purging is complete. I must warn you, the spell I use, the words I speak will most likely cause you to sleep. It is not harmful, but can have a tranquilizing effect. Legolas may be the only one able to withstand it. We should prepare all before beginning."

They nodded and in a few minutes fresh rags were cut, bowls of clean water set aside and the fire stoked. Tauriel took a long drink before placing her hands on Kili's leg, her long delicate fingers making a triangle around the wound. Kili remained still, save for his shallow ragged breathing. Slowly Tauriel began to chant, her words and tone entirely different from the spell she had used before. Instead of the powerful command her words had been, this new chant sounded as though she were trying to coax a small child. They watched in awe as her fingertips began to glow with a soft white light. Sara looked up and was surprised to see Tauriel's face was also radiated a soft glow. It reminded her of old paintings of saints, their halos set about their heads.

They watched anxiously for many long minutes as Tauriel chanted rhythmically. So entranced and soothed was Sara that she almost didn't notice the first drops of poison seeping from the puncture in Kili's leg. It was a dark viscous substance that strung from Kili's flesh to cloth in Oin's waiting hand. Gathering the cloth Oin carefully wiped the wound before dropping the rag into the waiting fire.

Tauriel did not so much as miss a beat as she continued to work. On and on she spoke, her words repeating again and again until they were a constant and familiar drone in the back of Sara's mind. She struggled to throw off the heavy slumber that pressed in on her. She did not realize that she had fallen asleep until she woke with a start some time later. Her heart hammered from the remains of yet another nightmare. She had not meant to sleep, fully intending to remain awake until Kili was well, but as she looked around the room she saw that Ranson and Sigrid had also succumbed to the spell. Sara rubbed her face trying to erase the remnants of sleep, but Tauriel's words were already taking affect again and she slipped once again into sleep. Despite the soothing quality of the healing spell Sara's sleeping mind continued to plague her with visions of violence, death, and blood. She woke a second time, clutching at her chest, trying to drive back the tears of grief and panic that threatened to spill from her eyes. As the tension eased from her she spotted Oin fast asleep in a chair near the fire and Fili on the floor beside her. Legolas and Thorin remained at the table by Kili's side. Thorin looked up and caught her gaze on him. His bloodshot eyes blinked languidly as he rose from the bench and came to drape a blanket over her.

"How is he?" she asked, unable to stifle a yawn. Thorin sank to the floor beside her.

"I'm not sure," he admitted in a whisper, rubbing a weary hand over his face before letting it fall into his lap. He glanced at the elves. "Legolas speaks very little as she works, but there has been a large amount of poison drawn from his wound, and the veins seem to be receding somewhat." Sara nodded, the spell once again beginning to pull her under.

"You should sleep," she said between yawns. He shook his head.

"Not until he wakes and I am sure he will survive, but you should return to your rest." She yawned.

"I don't really have a choice," she said, her eyes already closing like dark shutters.

Roaring water, clashing metal, splattering blood. Sara woke with a jolt from the dream. Residual grief and fear welled up inside her like black water bubbling forth from her navel. She sat up, hands over her face as she tried to regulate her breathing. She was really beginning to hate sleeping. The night before had been much the same and even with Thorin nearby the dreams had still come. Slowly the immediate fear and panic began to recede and the effects of the dream faded like a bad aftertaste.

The room was quiet. Raising her head Sara spotted Sigrid standing beside Kili, dressing his wound. All the others were asleep, even Thorin who lay beside her, his dark hair streaked with silver spilling onto the floor. She looked around for Legolas and Tauriel but neither of the elves were to be seen. Did that mean Kili was well? Careful not to jostle Thorin or Fili Sara stood and silently made her way to the table. Sigrid looked up from wrapping Kili's leg.

"Where are Legolas and Tauriel?" whispered Sara.

"The elf prince took the lady back to the Master's house to rest. I don't know that I've ever seen someone look so utterly exhausted, he had to carry her. You only just missed them, but before he left he woke me and instructed me to bandage the wound."

"Were they successful? Did they heal him?'

"I suppose so," said the girl, washing her hands in a bowl. "They said little before they departed, but he looks much better to me."

And indeed as Sara observed Kili's sleeping form he did seem greatly recovered. Gone was the fever, much of the color having returned to his face and skin, and his breath was smooth and deep. She traced one of the dark veins on his side with a fingertip frowning. Though they had faded to a light purple in color and were no longer raised above the skin, they we're still plainly visible. But other than the remnants of the veins and the bandage on his leg there was little else to give away how close he had been to death hours before. Sigrid finished drying her hands before retrieving a blanket and with Sara's help they tucked the cloth around his body.

Sara sank onto the bench, her back to Thorin and Fili as she took comfort in Kili's chest as it rose and fell. After a heartbeat Sigrid sat beside her. She looked at the girl of fifteen, pretty in her own way, dark hair and blue grey eyes. So young. Sara tried to remember what she had been like at fifteen. Had she been as mature or confident in any skill as this girl was? Probably not. Probably too busy with surviving high school, hanging out with Nathen, and being a goofy teenager in general. But this girl already seemed like an adult in many ways. She tried to imagine Sigrid in a high school setting but couldn't quite manage it. Sara had, in most respects, come to terms with the idea that she would never return to Earth, but it never before struck her to question what she would do once the quest was finished, if she lived. She doubted that Fili or Thorin would wish her stray far, but what would she do? How would she spend her days? What did she have to offer? Sigrid yawned loudly.

"Thank you," said Sara, being called back to the present.

"I'm hardly the one you should thank. The elves did all the work. It was truly amazing to watch what little I saw before I fell asleep. I thought for sure your companion is doomed to an early grave."

"Thank you for caring for him all yesterday," reiterated Sara. "You were here tending him when we could not be. Truly I think you." Sigrid looked at her thoughtfully.

"You're welcome," she said finally. The pair fell into a long silence observing the others as the slept, stifling their own yawns.

"What time is it?" asked Sara, glancing out the windows to see the sky was still dark.

"Early," said Ranson, appearing suddenly from one of the back bedrooms. "Perhaps five or thereabout."

"I'm sorry we have intruded on you again," said Sara, turning slightly to face him. "Thank you for your hospitality." Ranson watched her pensively for a moment.

"Though I am unsure of your purpose here in our town," he said hesitantly, "You are still welcome in my home."

"Thank you," she said, nodding.

"Are there really orcs heading towards us?" asked Sigrid seriously, catching Sara off guard.

"Yes. There is an orc army headed this way," said Sara pausing for a moment. "In some ways I'm relieved that we got moved to the Master's house even if he is a vile man."

"Why?" asked Ranson.

"Because it's safer for us to be with the Master," said Sara, picking at the edge of her gloves. "Safer for you."

"How so?" Sara rubbed the white scars on her wrist with a finger.

"The orc general, Azog, has a particular grudge against Thorin. There is little, if nothing, he wouldn't do, no one he wouldn't hurt or exploit to get at Thorin. This way the danger will fall on the Masters head and not yours, at least as soon as Kili is moved." Ranson frowned as he sat at the table opposite them.

"I believed that you were indeed being hunted by an orc party, but I did not however realize that it was so personal."

"What happened to your wrists? Can I do anything?" asked Sigrid, watching Sara's fidgeting fingers. "That looks recent." Sara glanced down and pulled the glove back into place.

"No. It's okay. It's already healed as much as possible."

"What happened?" asked Ranson, after several heartbeats. Sara looked out the window not wanting to meet the man's eyes.

"Let's just say that I found out how personal the feud between Azog and Thorin really is."

"He hurt you to get at your companions," said Ranson quietly. "Tried to kill you."

She nodded. His steady gaze drew her own and he studied her face with an expression that was familiar and yet foreign at the same time. His grey eyes held hers and there was a concern there that went beyond the customary protective nature. It was odd, for there was certainly no lack of concern shown to her from the dwarves, but this man's attention was different. Perhaps it was because he was a man and not a dwarf, perhaps it was because he was a father, or perhaps it was simply wishful thinking or a hollow longing on her part, but his concern felt like what she had always imagined a fathers care to be. She heard herself speaking before she had consciously decided to.

"He was going to kill me in hopes of driving Thorin and the others into a grief stricken rage."

"They care for you that much?" asked Ranson, his eyes flicking over her shoulder.

"We do," said Thorin, suddenly behind her. She looked up at him. She hadn't heard him stir. "Is Kili recovered?"

"As far as we can tell," said Sigrid, yawning and stretching. "The elves left without saying much."

"He looks much better," said Thorin, lifting the blanket to see Kili's chest.

"You should get some sleep," suggested Sara looking at Sigrid. "You look exhausted."

"She is right," said Ranson. "I already moved Tilda in with Bain so you can rest uninterrupted."

"But I…"

"No," cut in Ranson. "You have done all you can. I would guess he will remain asleep for some time to come. You should rest."

"Alright," said Sigrid before disappearing into one of the back rooms. Thorin sank to take the girls place, his arm brushing Sara's as his large hand found hers beneath the table. Ranson watched them.

"You really do care for her don't you," said Ranson at length, watching Thorin. The dwarf king simply nodded, and Ranson's brow furrowed.

"Is that really such a strange thing?" asked Sara, a bit exasperated. Thorin looked at her.

"In a way," admitted Thorin. "It is unusual for Dwarves to form close attachments to those not of our own. Almost unheard of."

"Not only that, but you seem to have charmed the elf prince as well," said Ranson.

"Well it's not like all that came easily," said Sara. "We were the elves captives when we first met Legolas, and Thorin and most of the dwarves wanted nothing to do with me at the start of our journey."

"Then how did you come to travel with them?"

"Gandalf insisted," said Thorin.

"That cannot possibly be all," said Ranson cautiously. "A simple woman would never have caught a wizard's eye, to say nothing of traveling with dwarves and elves together. I feel there is much more that you have not said."

"Perhaps," she admitted. Ranson sat up straighter, his arms folding over his chest. He looked between the two of them, assessing. Finally he relaxed.

"Did you have any luck getting access to the town's records?"

"Actually yes," said Sara, gladly seizing on the change of topic. "Thorin made arrangements at dinner just before Fili arrived." She wrinkled her nose remembering the arrangement.

"What?" asked the bargeman.

"Apparently a woman can't be trusted to file anything back in its proper place. I have to have Alfrid with me while I search." Ranson glanced to Thorin and then back at her.

"Be wary of that man. He has been known to abuse his power when it comes to women."

"He actually manages that with his looks?" asked Sara incredulously.

"Do not forget that he is the Masters right hand man. In many real ways he is more dangerous than the master as he has the masters ear. Be on your guard." She hadn't thought of it in that light.

"I will," she said. "Thank you." Somewhere outside a rooster crowed as the sky began to lighten to a pale pink.

"Did the elves say anything about returning?" asked Thorin, watching Kili.

"I'm not sure," said Sara. "Sigrid was awake when they left. Apparently Tauriel was so tired that Legolas had to carry her."

"Rightly so," said Thorin nodding. "Kili appears to be much recovered. That would not have been achieved without much effort and magic from the elf captains part."

"Her name is Tauriel," reminded Sara, stifling another yawn.

"Yes Tauriel," he amended. "Did they say anything about Kili's condition?"

"I didn't see them before…"

But at that moment they all turned to the door. Someone was climbing the stairs outside and moments later the door swung open to admit Legolas. He met their waiting gaze unsurprised.

"How's Tauriel?" asked Sara.

"She will require rest for a few days," said Legolas coming to collapse into a chair, his head falling back with a gentle thump. Even he looked exhausted. "The spell is a difficult one to work in the best of circumstances and it took much of her strength. Almost too much."

"Too much?" asked Ranson. Legolas sat up, more alert.

"She did not want to worry you at the time."

"Worry us how?" asked Thorin. It was a moment before Legolas replied.

"Kili's life was not the only one that hung in the balance last night. Had the spell required more magic than she possessed then it would have begun to draw on her own life force. Once begun the spell cannot be stopped until it is complete. As it was I had to lend her some of my own magic, but even then it was almost not enough."

"Why?" asked Thorin. "Why would she risk that peril for Kili?" Legolas watched Thorin for a long moment.

"Why would Sara jump in front of a spider to save me?" he countered. "It is simply who she is."

"Then we owe her a great debt," said Thorin.

"Indeed," said Legolas seriously. "Kili should recover in a few days, though I fear he may carry the scars of those dark veins for years to come if not the rest of his life. If one such as Lord Elrond had been working the magic it may not have been so but…"

"It is a small price to pay for his life," said Thorin. "What matters is that your captain risked herself to restore my nephew to me when he was beyond all others' help."

"When can he be moved to the Masters house?" asked Sara, looking to Ranson.

"Perhaps later today, tomorrow at the latest," said Legolas. "I would wait until he has awoken however briefly. He will be weak for quite some time to come."

"I'm just glad he and Tauriel are okay," said Sara. Thorin turned to Ranson.

"May we intrude on you until my nephew wakes? I know our presence here is not convenient, and it is a potential risk to you and your family."

"So Ms. Sara was telling me," said Ranson. "Still it seems a bit late for that to be taken into consideration."

"Then you at least believe us?" said Legolas.

"Yes," said Ranson. "I saw the damage to the barrels the day before last, and I have never seen a wound or sickness like this. At the very least, I believe you are who you say you are and that you are being hunted by orcs."

"Then you believe more than the master," side Legolas, his brows drawing together in anger.

"That does not surprise me," said the bargeman sardonically. "What will you do if you cannot convince him?"

"I did not think it would be a pleasant task to persuade him," said Thorin. "But I admit, it is proving more difficult than expected."

"We came here to spare as many lives as possible," said Sara. "I suppose we will take all those who will come, all those who can be persuaded to leave."

"You would go behind the Masters back?" asked Ranson, raising an eyebrow. "That may prove more dangerous than you think. The Master has spies everywhere. Eric and I are under constant surveillance."

"Why?" asked Sara, leaning forward on her elbows.

"He suspects us of inciting the people against him," said Ranson simply.

"And are you?" asked Thorin. Ranson snorted.

"The Master is a fool. His actions alone are enough to incite the people ire against him and his guards."

"I had noticed the people resent his guards," said Legolas.

"He has stripped the townspeople of all their weapons," said Thorin.

"All of the conventional ones. All the ones he could find," said Ranson. "But that is not the only reason the people are unhappy. He taxes the people exorbitantly and some of his guards have been known to take liberties both with the citizens and their goods. It used to be much worse before the death of the last head guard."

"What happened to him?" asked Sara.

"He was found floating face-down in the town square."

"Murdered?" asked Legolas.

"It would seem so, although no one was ever convicted of the crime. When Talson took over as head guard he had more success at keeping the other guards in line but by then the damage had been done and the Master only scrutinized Eric and I further after."

"He thinks you did it?" asked Sara.

"Perhaps," said Ranson, shrugging. "But he would use any excuse to get us safely out of the way if he thought he could."

"Are you that much of a threat to him?" asked Legolas. "He does seem to feel you are a poor influence over us." Ranson snorted again.

"My opinions on the Master are no secret, but I have never spoken of rebellion or Revolt."

"And what of your friend?" asked Thorin shrewdly. Ranson hesitated.

"I have never heard him speak of treason," replied Ranson cautiously. "But I would not claim to have heard everything Eric has ever said."

"Treason being defined as having a poor opinion of the master," said Sara sarcastically, flicking a crumb from the bench.

"Indeed," said Ranson.

"Then why does he fear you so much?"

"He believes we, I in particular, have the people's favor."

"And do you?" asked Thorin, watching the bargeman with calculation.

"I do what I can to ease the burden of those most affected by the Masters leadership."

"In other words you care for the people where the master does not," said Legolas. "And for this the people look to you."

"I suppose one could claim that."

"If you believed the people were in danger would you use your influence to protect them?" asked Thorin after a moment of silence. Ranson looked at him knowingly.

"You wish to have me urge the people to follow you to the mountain." Thorin nodded.

"If we can not convince the master to do it himself." There was a long pause before the bargeman spoke.

"If I truly believed it would be for their benefit, then yes, though I fear I don't have as much influence as you would need. The Master is paranoid." Thorin waved this away.

"Do you believe they are in danger?"

"I admit I am not wholly convinced that this battle you claim to have knowledge of is real. And even if it were, there are flaws in your plans. I would require more assurance than you have provided before I would be willing to risk their lives." Ranson's eyes flicked between her and Thorin. "If the time came could you provide such assurances?"

"We might," said Thorin, warily. "If the need arose." Ranson studied them for a long moment.

"Even with my help you would still need to contend with the Master and his guards. He will not let you simply leave with a large portion of the population of the town. He would be ruined."

"How many guards does he have?" asked Sara.

"About 80," said Legolas.

"Closer to 100," corrected Ranson.

"And the population of Lake-town?"

"Including the women and children, about 1,500. Only about 230 fighting fit men, and few of them with much training; all of them with rudimentary weapons and loved ones to protect."

"That would be difficult," admitted Legolas.

"I would hope it won't come to that," said Sara, worry turning in her stomach. "You really cant afford to be fighting each other when there are enemies marching this way."

"Nevertheless the master would do all in his power to prevent your departure," said Ranson. "It would inevitably come to a battle."

"That should be avoided at all costs," said Legolas frowning.

"Then your only hope is to persuade the master."

They fell quiet for several minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. Sara's eyes drifted to Fili's sleeping form. Even in slumber his face was lined with worry. She tried to hide an enormous yawn but caught Thorin's attention.

"You should retire to the Masters," he said. "You had another troubled night." She shook her head.

"I don't want to sleep."

"Sara you need rest else you shall be the next one to occupy Oin's time. We cannot have you getting sick."

"I don't want to sleep," she said again.

"We will speak to Dwalin. He may have something to help you sleep without dreaming."

"The leaves he gave me as we crossed the mountain?" she asked. Thorin nodded.

"I might have given them to you before, but they can be habit-forming and when used over a period of time can affect you in other ways. But you have slept so little in the past three days. You need to rest."

"Alright," she surrendered. She could tell she was losing and she had to admit she was exhausted. If she could sleep without dreaming then perhaps it would be good.

"Come, I will take you back," said Thorin, standing to leave, but Legolas beat him to it.

"Let me take her," said Legolas, straightening his tunic. "I need to go relive Airidan anyway and I can take her back first. You should be here in the event that one of your nephew's wakes. Trust her to my care once again and I will see her back to the Masters safely." Thorin looked between Legolas and his nephews, torn. Sara stood.

"I'll go with Legolas," she said, pulling her messy hair out of her face. "Stay here. Fili is going to have a lot of questions when he wakes up and you should be here for them both."

"Are you certain?" he asked. She gave him a look.

"It's not as though Legolas is untrustworthy," she said, smirking. "I'll be fine. But I make no promises about actually sleeping."

"Very well," surrendered Thorin. "But speak to Dwalin before you retire."

"I will," she assured.

"You are welcome here at any time," said Ranson, standing to see her off.

"Thank you," she said, bending to place a quick kiss to Kili's forehead.

"Rest," insisted Thorin, catching her hand and squeezing it briefly. He draped his coat over her shoulders. "And take this, it's cold."

The walk back to the Masters was uneventful if not dark and cold. The Eastern sky was just beginning to turn orange, the sun peeking up over the horizon as Legolas bid her farewell just inside the Master's house. She sighed, rubbing a tired hand over face as the heavy doors thudded closed behind her. She moved forward into the house but tripped over her own feet, only just catching herself before she plummeted to the floor.

"Are you well?" asked a voice from the left. She jumped, only just stifling a scream. She had not seen the man standing in the dark entryway. He stepped forward, empty hands raised. It was the same man who had come to retrieve them from Ranson's house early yesterday morning, the head guard. Ranson had called him Talson. "I'm sorry to have startled you."

"Don't worry," she assured. "I should have known the doors will not be unguarded."

"You are well?" he repeated.

"Well enough, just tired."

"And your ailing companion?" She looked at him surprised by the concern in his voice.

"He's recovering. Thank you," she said.

"That is good then," he said, stepping back to his place in the shadows. He said nothing else so Sara moved on into the house, making her way to the rooms. She passed a hall at the end of which must have been the kitchen. Maids and cooks bustled past the open door. Sara's stomach protested as her nose caught the scent of breakfast being prepared, by she quickly lost her appetite when she spotted Alfrid. She darted away and in moments was in front of Dwalin's door. Not wanting to wake him if he were sleeping she opened the door quietly and peeked inside.

"Come in lass, we know it's you," called Dwalin's familiar gruff voice. Sheepishly she slipped inside.

"What news of Kili?" asked Balin from his chair between the two occupied beds. Bilbo sat in one, blowing his nose loudly into a handkerchief and on the other bed Dwalin sat atop his covers his face pinched with worry.

"How is he?" asked Dwalin, patting the end of his bed. She sunk gratefully onto the mattress and in a few minutes had relayed all that had happened the night before.

"They will probably move him back sometime later today or tomorrow," she finished, flopping back on the bed.

"Ya look tuckered out," said Dwalin, plucking at the front of his shirt. It was still a bit odd for her to see him without his thinker clothes that passed as armor. Even now he had not recovered his usual bulk and his clothes hung loosely on him.

"How are the both of you?" she asked, looking between him and Bilbo.

"Bilbo's fever broke in the night," reported Balin. "Though I'm afraid he will be sniffling for a few days to come."

"Rather a nasty cold," said Bilbo in a nasally voice from behind his handkerchief. "But I will recover. I am rather hungry though, I am sure a good meal would work wonders." His stomach let out a low growl and she couldn't help but laugh.

"And you?" she asked Dwalin.

"Don't fret yerself over me," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm fine." He studied her face for a long moment. "Ya have bags under your eyes, lass. Trouble sleeping?" She nodded, looking away.

"It's understandable," said Balin.

"I actually came to ask if you have any more of those leaves you gave me when we were in the mountains after Rivendell." Dwalin's face fell.

"I'm afraid not. When I fell in the river my stash was ruined, and while the plant itself is common enough, I have not had the chance to gather or buy more. Sorry lass."

"It's okay," she said, picking at the blanket on his bed. "I just told Thorin I would ask. I'm sure I will manage." How she wasn't sure, but it wasn't Dwalin's problem to deal with. She stood up. "Well I don't mean to keep you from your rest."

Calling goodbye she slipped back out into the dim hallway. In the rooms further down the hall she could hear the sounds of the rest of the company stirring from their slumber and readying themselves for the day. She tiptoed up the hall, trying her best to be silent. She didn't really want to face them at the moment. They would inevitably ask about last night's events and she didn't have the mental energy to rehash it all again. Let them ask Bilbo and the others.

So focused was she on the rooms behind her that she didn't notice the figure step out of the shadows to her right as she rounded the corner until it was too late.

"Ah! Ms. Sara," called Alfrid. Crap, where had he come from? She closed her eyes and willed herself patients.

"Hello counselor," she greeted dryly, remembering that that was his official title. Her steps came to a halt, her arms instinctively folding over her chest.

"No need to be so formal," he said. "You can just call me Alfrid." She grimaced. Even his voice was oily.

"Oh no, I couldn't do that. It wouldn't be proper respect for your title," she said, trying to keep the sarcasm from her voice.

"Well then perhaps I might call you Sara. After all we shall be spending many hours together in the next few days," he said, stepping toward her, his greasy hair falling into his face.

"No, I don't think so. Only my friends call me Sara," she said flatly. "If you'll excuse me." She moved to the side intent on getting around him. Her door was only feet behind him.

"Oh, that's a shame," he said, stepping back, trying to block her way with an arm, but she nimbly ducked under it. Being shorter had its advantages at times. He spun towards her, his face flashing surprise and irritation before smoothing once again.

"Still, I was wondering if you might like to begin your search through the records after breakfast?"

"I'm afraid I will have to pass. Last night was rather stressful and I'm quite tired."

"Maybe later then," he said, stepping closer again. "Perhaps I might be of some other assistance."

"I'm fine," she said, her hand closing around the doorknob behind her. He moved closer. This guy couldn't take a brick to the head let alone hint.

"I might bring you breakfast... in bed," he said. She gagged internally.

"No thank you."

"Are you sure?" he asked, leaning over her, one arm on the wall above her head to the left. She glared up at him. She hated when guys tried to use their height to her disadvantage. His breath was as foul as his manners and his rotting teeth made her sick to her stomach. Her fist clenched behind her back. She didn't want trouble between her and Alfrid. She didn't want to ruin her chances at searching the records, but if he didn't back off this bozo wouldn't have any teeth, rotten or not. "Come now Sara…" he began, reaching a hand toward her.

A voice cleared loudly from their left and Alfrid froze. Talson stood at the end of the hallway, his brows drawn together in a deep scowl.

"Counselor Alfrid," he called meaningfully.

"What is it?" said Alfrid, not taking his eyes off Sara, still leaning over her.

"The master is looking for you."

"I was just with him," said Alfrid impatiently.

"I am aware," said Talson. "Nevertheless, he requires you once again." Alfrid still did not move.

"I would make haste. The Masters gout is acting up and he's in quite a foul mood." Alfrid's eyes flicked between her and the guard, before he shoved off the wall and stalked past the guard, ramming his shoulder into Talson's. Alfrid bounced off the larger man who didn't so much as budge, and cursed as he disappeared around the corner. Sara was only too happy to see the back of him disappear as she relaxed.

"Thanks," she said, looking to the guard. He shrugged.

"Don't worry about it."

"Was the Master's gout really acting up?" Sara asked, raising an eyebrow. Talson smirked.

"It's always acting up," he said, turning to leave. "Rest well and lock your door."

"I will. Thank you," she called after him. He raised his hand in farewell, not turning around. Relived, she slipped into her room, locking the door and collapsed onto the bed. Thorin's coat was warm and she buried her face into it trying to drive away her revulsion with Alfrid. Thorin's smell soothed her, her muscles seeming to melt into the bed. She tried not to replay what had happened in the past few days, praying that for once she could just sleep like the dead. Despite the waiting dreams it was only a mater of minuets before her exhaustion caught up to her and she was dragged once again into slumber.