Chapter 59: The Return

"Quite the undertaking," said Balin.

"Indeed it is," agreed Thorin, watching the string of carts, animals, goods, and people march past them toward the mountain and Dale. They stood together on a rocky outcropping near the edge of the lake surveying the barely contained chaos as people of Laketown evacuated north. It had been three days since the attack on Laketown and with the combined urging of Bard, Eric, and Talson the town had been emptied and the slog north begun. Several large boats and barges were situated at the northernmost mouth of the lake where the River Running emptied into it. Thorin chafed at the slow progress of people and goods but knew it was pointless to urge them faster. It was not easy to pack up your life and leave behind prized possessions while trying to plan for the necessities, especially when one was unsure what the future would hold. The people had been encouraged to bring only what was necessary and all the food they could carry. Unfortunately, there had been little food to be had and even less of it which was travel-worthy. This had been a real concern discussed in the past few days.

How were they to feed these people? Both Erebor and Dale had clean springs so long as the water had not been fouled by the dragon. But the food was going to be an issue. According to Legolas, there was enough food stored in his father’s kingdom to see them all through the winter, but with no sign of Gandalf, Thranduil was still under Saruman’s spell. Thorin snorted. No doubt by this time the wizard was struggling to maintain his hold on the elf king. The elf scouts and soldiers had ceased to appear from Mirkwood and Thorin strongly suspected that the fog had taken its toll on the wizard. The letter to the master had felt like a final desperate attempt at recovering Sara before his hold on the elf-king finally broke. With the orcs attacking Laketown, Legolas had at last been able to sway the elves he previously had been forced to hold hostage, and they had added their strength to his. But even with the help of the additional elves, there were still five new graves left behind in the cold ground. Four townspeople and one elf. The most heartbreaking of the graves had been the child-sized one.

"It will be a close thing if we are to find the hidden door by Durin’s Day,” said Balin. "It will take us at least two more days to see these people safely to Dale and another two to find the entrance."

"We can only hope that the book’s description of the door’s location is accurate," said Thorin.

"Might we send one of the company ahead to scout out its location?" Thorin mulled that over a moment.

It was a good suggestion. According to Balin’s calculations, Durin's Day would be here and gone in five days. They cannot leave it to chance, too many lives road on the necessity of finding a way into the mountain to kill the dragon. Then there was the issue of the Dragon. How were they to go about slaying it? Despite the book’s description of a missing scale, Thorin was well and rightly leery of simply relying on that information. Even if it were true, how did one get close enough to exploit such a weakness without fatal consequences? It seems that even if Bilbo were not needed to locate the Arkenstone, he would be invaluable in ascertaining the truth about Smaug. Was he indeed alive? How big? For it was a sure thing that if he still lived he had grown in the past 174 years. And most important, was there indeed a weak chink in the dragon's armor? On this count at least, Gandalf had been right. A human or dwarf could not approach the dragon, but little Bilbo with his ring of invisibility and unknown scent could. Still, Thorin disliked putting Bilbo in harm's way, even if it was the reason he had been included in the company. But all this would be all for naught if the door was not found by Durin's Day.

"Bring Nori and Bofur to me," said Thorin, pulling the leather cord from beneath his shirt. Balin nodded and then was gone.

The key was heavy in his hand as he watched a wagon passed by, the sick, injured, and old carried inside. He turned his gaze further upstream to where a ferry was passing people across the river. The west side of the river along the edge of the forest was rocky and uneven making it difficult to travel over but the east bank was much more accessible, the remnants of an old road twisting through the hills. Bard was using his barge to pass people over to the other side of the river, his children waiting for him on the far bank. Eric and his wife along with Airidan and a few of the town's loyal guards led the string of people northward. Most of the rest of the guards were either strung out along the forest’s edge or guarding the rear against attack. No sign of orcs had been spotted since the attack but no one was taking it for granted that they were truly gone.

Talson passed by, raising his uninjured hand in greeting. He pulled a small wheeled cart, a rope tied around his waist. In the cart sat a woman Thorin could only assume to be his wife. Her face was round and plump to match the swell of her belly full of the promise of life.

Thorin’s eyes swept the throng searching for Sara only to find her helping to push a cart through a patch of mud. He frowned. She still ought to be recovering but he knew she would not listen to him. Since she had learned of her past, Sara had been... off. Despite his repeated attempts to give her time to recover or reunite with her new family, every time he turned around she had found another task to occupy herself. From washing clothes to scrubbing floors, tending displaced children, or even trying to help in the kitchens, she was never still. Sara was generally a helpful person but this was different. From waking in the morning to sleeping in the evening she found ways to occupy herself. She didn't even seem to have time for him, Fili, Kili, or indeed any of the company. He had tried to talk to her but she had insisted that there was simply too much to do, but Thorin suspected it was her way of avoiding anything to do with him or her family. The only one she would stop for was Bilbo. Thorin climbed down from the rock and was about to make his way to Sara when Balin reappeared followed by Nori, Bofur, and little Bilbo.

"You wanted to see us," said Nori, strolling forward, his hands deep in his pockets.

"Yes," said Thorin, fingering the key. "I want you two to scout ahead and find the secret door. This procession moves too slowly and we cannot afford to miss our window of opportunity.”

"But even should we find the door, we cannot open it," said Bofur, pushing his hat further up his brow. "We need the..."

“Key," finished Thorin, holding it out to Nori.

"But surely you want to be there," said Nori, taking it.

"Indeed I do, and I mean to be there with the others, but I will not leave it to chance."

"But how are we supposed to find the door without the map," asked Bofur.

"The past three days Ori has been copying out pertinent details from Sara's phone in regards to the mountain and the battle. The book describes where to find the door, but in the event the book is once again mistaken, I want you to find it. Have Ori give you a copy of the directions. When you have found the door, light not one but two different fires to let us know. Mahal willing we will be close behind you."

"But what of the dragon?” asked Bilbo. "Won't Smaug notice the door being opened?"

"Only open it a crack, enough to keep it from closing again. Who knows that we won't be able to open it again from the outside till next year. And under no circumstances are you to enter the mountain. Simply find a door and open it. If we don't reach you in time do not enter. Understood?" The pair nodded.

"When do we leave?" asked Nori.

“Immediately. Make all haste to the mountain."

"It will be done," said Nori, and together he and Bofur and Balin turned to go, Bilbo following them. But Thorin called after the hobbit, halting him.

"This task is not yours Mr. Baggins," called Thorin. "But I do have need of you."

"Me?” squeaked the hobbit, returning to face him. "What can I do?"

"Much, if my suspicions are correct. It's about Sara." The little fellow’s shoulders sagged. "She has told you what happened three nights past, yes?"

"A bit," said Bilbo. “Though I have learned more from the others."

"She has not been herself these past few days.”

"How can you expect her to be herself when she only just found out who she is? She's not even sure which name she ought to go by."

"And that is understandable," said Thorin. "But it is not just a matter of confusion." Bilbo sighed.

"No, it’s not."

"She is still running. If she chooses to accompany us to the mountain she must be of sound mind. It need not be fully resolved, but she must not be divided."

"Then talk to her," said Bilbo.

"I have tried, but she is avoiding me. She keeps herself busy and has hardly spoken to anyone save you. I do not wish to force her, but this must be dealt with. Do you not agree?” Bilbo tipped his round face to the sky and let out a long sigh.

"No, you are right. What do you wish me to do?"

“Speak with her. Please. “

"Very well," said Bilbo. “I will speak to her."

The sun was hot on the right side of Sara's face as it began to sink below the horizon. Beads of sweat dripped down her face as she hitched her pack further onto her back. In the distance, the mountain loomed above them all, tall, dark, and barren. The closer they drew to its shadow the less life they saw whether it be vegetation or animal life. Even along the river, the greenery was minimal. Ahead the terrain was a chard gray landscape.

"Quite a dismal view," said a voice at her elbow. Sara jumped and stumbled only just catching herself. Bilbo walked beside her.

"Goodness Bilbo," she said, relaxing. "You startled me."

"Sorry. I couldn't help but notice you were walking alone."

"I just wanted to think," she said, casting a glance ahead to where most of the company marched. "Where is Bofur?"

“Thorin sent him and Nori ahead to the mountain to find the door." He glanced over at her. "Sara are you well?"

“Thorin asked you to talk to me didn't he?" she said, looking ahead. She had seen the two talking earlier when she had passed.

"Yes," he admitted, his cheeks blushing pink.

"I'm just not ready yet," she said.

"Ready for what?" Her shoulders sagged.

"I'm not sure. I just don't know what..." She petered off when Kili turned to look back at her.

"They are worried for you. We all are,” said Bilbo.

"I'm fine," she said, ignoring the second sharp pang of guilt when Fili turned to look back at her as well.

"If you are well, why are you avoiding everyone?" countered Bilbo. "What holds you back?"

She was quiet for several long minutes, thinking. What was she afraid of, for there was a niggling whisper of fear in the back of her mind. More than a whisper if she were honest and only some of it caused by the prospect of a dragon and an impending battle. She had been avoiding everyone, but especially Bard and Thorin. Bard. It was still odd to think of him as her father. That night he had been so ready to welcome her back as though she had never been gone at all, as if he had always known her. She had always imagined that when she found her family she would fit right in with them, that the gaping hole in her heart would magically feel. But thus far all she had felt was a mixture of uncertainty, confusion, and anxiety.

She had little in common with Bard and his children. They had always lived here in Middle Earth with magic and dragons while she grew up with convenience stores and cars. The two worlds were hardly compatible. She had tried not to dwell on it after she had found out her origins lay in Middle Earth, but she had no idea how to get along in this world. Once the quest was done what would she do? She felt helpless and clueless when her thoughts turned to after the quest. Sometimes she still secretly wished she could just go back to earth when all was said and done. Return to college, get a job, and just be normal... But that was unlikely to happen. Meanwhile, what was she to do now? She felt she could overcome the difference between Bard and her given time. He seemed to have sensed how startling his eagerness had been. He had not pushed the few times he had sought her out only for her to insist she was busy.

The guilt of pushing him away grew each day, but so did her fear of her sibling’s reaction. Neither Bain nor Sigrid had appeared thrilled by the prospect of having an older sibling. She had been avoiding Thorin as well. Although he assured her she was welcome, he kept pushing her to spend time with her family. She felt like a guest who had outstayed her welcome. She shook her head trying to rid herself of that thought. That was not true. She tried instead to call up memories of Thorin’s insistent kisses. She would not let herself fall down that dark pit of thought again... though she could not entirely eliminate it either. What was wrong with her?

"Just know that I'm here should you wish to confide in me," said Bilbo, breaking the silence. She glanced down at him, a smile pulling out her lips. Sweet, soft-hearted, insightful little Bilbo. Perhaps talking to him would help. He would offer an honest opinion and sound advice.

“I... I would like that," she said. She talked for many long minutes, telling him of her fears and disappointments. At last, when she had confided in him they fell into a thoughtful silence.

"I can't say as I know exactly what you should do,” began Bilbo. “But I do know one thing."

"And what's that? " she asked, warily.

"It will only get harder the longer you wait." She sighed.

" I know." She snagged a tall piece of grass and began to rip it into pieces. "But I have no idea how to even begin."

"But begin you must. Start with Bard."

"But it's so awkward," she said, leaving a trail of grass pieces as they walked down the faded road. "I feel like he has all these expectations for me, but I only know of him as the guy we met a little while ago."

"You must talk to him. Next time he approaches you drop what you're doing and give it an honest try. And that is another thing, you must be honest."

"But I have been honest," she said, throwing the remaining chunks of grass into the air. "He knows everything about me, more almost, than I know myself."

"That's not what I mean," said Bilbo. "You must be honest with him in regards to your feelings. You are anxious. Tell him so. You are unsure of your siblings and your place in your family. Confide in him. Just as you have me.” She blew out of breath.

“You make it sound so easy."

“It's not. It will be difficult and perhaps awkward at first, but with time will come easy. He is your father and has already demonstrated that he cares deeply for you. Do not pressure yourself to immediately reciprocate. It will take time, but nothing will happen save estrangement if you do not try. You wanted to find your family and now you have. Now you must fight for them."

She was silent for a long while. She had known Bilbo would not hold his punches and he had not disappointed her. It was easiest to talk to him. He was the only person who she felt expected nothing from her save friendship. They may not have always spent all their time together, but she could always return to him and he was eager for her company.

"Thank you, Bilbo."

"I only said what was true."

"No, I mean thank you for taking me in that day. I was a strange intruder in your home but you never once thought to do anything but help me."

"Any hobbit would have done the same." She shook her head.

"I don't think so. Not only that but you have been my constant friend through everything. Never once have you left my side, even when you knew I was keeping secrets. Even though you know there is still more I can’t tell you."

"That is what friends are for," he said.

They fell into an easy silence, walking side-by-side as the sun sank lower and the breeze picked up. She looked ahead to the mountain and the long string of people ahead of them.

"You think we're doing the right thing? That we made the right choice?"

"I think we made the best choice that we could," said Bilbo. "Many things are still unknown, but we can only prepare the best that we know how."

“Are you nervous?" she asked.

"About what?" hedged Bilbo, scuffing his hairy feet through the dirt.

"About Smaug? In the book, you are the first to meet him."

"Yes, of course I'm afraid. But how does one even approach a dragon? My mother used to tell me about them. They are cunning and ruthless."

"Not to mention huge and toothy with a side of fire breath." Bilbo scowled.

"Now you sound like Bofur." She laughed.

"Sorry. At least you can become invisible."

"That is some small comfort," he admitted, his hand automatically drifting to his waistcoat pocket. She watched him, wondering. Amazing and terrifying to think that the thing that had all of Middle Earth in such upheaval was tucked into her friend’s pocket. She frowned. Of all the people she had to protect, Bilbo would be in the most danger if it was discovered that he carried the ring of Sauron. More even than her.

"Bilbo?”

"Yes, Sara."

"I want you to make me a promise." He looked at her, sobering.

"What troubles you, Sara?"

"I want you to keep your ring a secret."

"My ring, a secret?" he asked, confused. "But several of the others are already aware of it."

"Who exactly?” His step paused a moment as he thought, others passing them by on the road.

"Yourself, the company, Gandalf, and a few of the elves."

"Don't let anyone else know about it, and ask the others to keep it a secret as well."

"But why?" Now she paused. What excuse could she give that would not alert him to the true nature of the gold he carried in his pocket. He would still need to bear the ring for over 50 years. If he knew of its true nature might it corrupt him as it had Frodo in the end? Even in the story, Bilbo had difficulty passing the ring to his nephew. No, he must remain ignorant.

"Well, it could be dangerous for you if it becomes known that your ring makes you invisible. Someone may try to take it and they won't care if they hurt you in the process."

"Take... Take my ring?" he stammered, stumbling forward. She caught his elbow studying him. "But it's my ring!" There was panic in his voice. "It's mine!" And possession.

"Are you still afraid of it?" she asked, remembering how he had felt after fighting the spiders with the ring on his finger.

"No!" he snapped, ramming his hand into his pocket, then paused a moment. He took his clenched hand out of his pocket. He relaxed his grip and the gold glinted up at her.

"Yes," he admitted after a moment. "I fear the effect the power of invisibility has on me. I am not quite myself when I wear it, bolder, more reckless than any hobbit has a right to be. Once I have taken it off, it frightens me to think what it has enabled me to do." Sara chewed her lip. That was not a particularly comforting thought.

"All right then, I want you to make me another promise. Promise me that you will avoid using it as much as possible. Only use it when your need is truly dire." Bilbo shoved it back in his pocket.

"Oh, be bother the whole thing. It's a useful skill to be invisible, but I have half a mind to throw this ring away."

"No!” she said, catching his arm. "No. You cannot let it out of your possession Bilbo. Promise me you will never give it away unless Gandalf or I tell you to."

"Alright, Sara,” he said looking startled. "If it's that important I will keep it."

"It is. Just keep it with you and try not to use it. Promise me!" He searched her face for a moment.

"Alright, I promise." She let go of his arm and after an awkward moment, they began to walk again. They had gone on in silence for several minutes when Bilbo spoke.

“You know, you really ought to talk to Thorin. He worries for you." She smiled

"I know."

Sara could not sleep that night, and it was becoming a depressingly familiar occurrence. The place they had stopped for the night was not much of a camp, hardly more than a bare patch of ground to stretch out on, but though they had stopped to rest hardly anyone was truly asleep. Perhaps it was the foreboding promise of the mountain that frustrated sleep, visions of dragons and war making any true rest impossible. Sara had given up quickly and instead went in search of Thorin. She had not seen him since passing him earlier in the day. At first, Fili had insisted that he would come with her, but when she told him who she was looking for he relaxed. She headed to one of the few tents that had been erected, this one was still busy with activity and chatter, people coming and going. The lantern creaked, swinging to-and-fro in her hand as she approached the entrance of the tent. Before she could reach it, however, it opened.

"Looking for someone Ms. Sara?" asked Airidan, holding open the flap of the tent, acting as sentry just inside.

"Sort of."

Her eyes roved over the crowd of familiar and unfamiliar faces inside. Legolas and Tauriel stood together near the back with Talson and Balin, deep in discussion. Off in one corner, Ori sat hunched over the blue glow of her phone, papers strewn about him, his fingers black with ink. Several guards from Laketown conversed with the elf guards to her right. To her left, she could see the three sleeping forms of her siblings. She did not however see Bard or Thorin. Opting for the easier of the two she turned to Airidan.

"Have you seen Thorin?"

"I have," said Airidan, a faint smile on his lips.

"Where?" she asked, eagerly.

"Here," said a voice in her ear. Airidan let the tent flap fall closed and a hand slipped around her waist spinning her around. Thorin kissed her forehead. "You were looking for me?"

“Yes.”

“You are no longer avoiding me?” She sighed.

"No. I want to talk to you."

"I see Mr. Baggins has accomplished his assignment then." She scowled.

"That was a cheap trick." His face sobered and he held her at arm's length.

"I was concerned for you and you would not speak to me."

"I still say it was a cheap trick... But you were right to send him after me. He is very easy to talk to."

"I do hope that someday you might turn to me in times of crisis."

"I know, but you can hardly blame me when you and Bard are at the crux of my problem."

"No, I suppose not," he said, letting his arms drop. "But it need not be a problem, at least not from me. No lasting decision needs to be made until after this is over." He reached for her hand, drawing her gaze up to him. "I do however need to know that you are of sound reason and judgment should you choose to proceed to Erebor."

"Are you calling me crazy?" she asked, trying to pull her hand away. “Because I have been feeling a bit crazy.” He held fast to her hand.

"I am not calling you crazy and you are not.”

“Then what do you mean about sound reason and judgment?”

“I mean to say that you cannot afford to have your attention divided. You must be in the here and now and have a clear understanding of what you desire. It could be fatal to you otherwise. The upcoming confrontation will be very real and I won't have you in harm's way if it can be helped. You cannot be distracted by other matters." Her shoulders dropped.

"That's reasonable and rational... Just much harder done than said."

" I understand, but it is necessary."

"I know, Bilbo pretty much said the same thing.”

“And he is right. We want you as safe as you can be made.”

“I'm sorry for avoiding you before."

"I know it was not your intention to injure me, and if we are not going into peril soon I would have let you come to me in your own time. But time is running short."

"I just don't know how to deal with everything. It's not at all the way I had expected it would be. Bilbo's right though, I need to quit running because it will only get harder the longer I ignore the situation."

"What do you intend to do?" asked Thorin quietly.

“Bilbo suggests I begin with Bard. With my father," she corrected herself.

"He is on patrol tonight on the west side of the camp,” said Thorin. "Would you like me to take you to him?" She was silent for a moment, grappling with the uncertainty growing in her chest. "Sara?" She looked up at him, and he drew her closer, cupping her cheek with a large hand. "You do not have to do anything."

"Maybe not," she said, turning to kiss his palm. "But I should do this at least. If anyone has been in as much suspense or uncertainty as me then it would be my father. And it is not fair to keep him at arm's length now that we have found each other again."

"If you are certain that is what you wish," he said, kissing her brow again. "Come, I will take you to him."

He took the lantern from her in one hand and gripped her hand tightly with his other. They walked in silence for a few minutes, the lantern high so she could see the way across the makeshift campsites. Children lay huddled with their parents among the few belongings they could carry. Many of the people were underdressed, their clothes worn thin and patched. Many did not even have a decent coat.

“Is it warm inside Erebor?" she asked. Thorin came to a halt.

"Are you cold?" he asked, reaching to remove his fur coat.

"A little," she admitted, feeling the chill breeze brush past her. "But I was not asking for myself." He draped his coat around her and followed her gaze to a family of four huddled together asleep.

"You asked for their sake." She nodded.

"So many of them are not equipped to deal with the cold and they may wind up homeless when this is all said and done." He took her hand and resumed leading her on past the last of the campsites, heading for the river.

"The halls of Erebor are vast and extensive, but generally they are of a temperate climate. You need not worry for them. The lower halls near the forges were very warm, almost unbearable at times. As long as we can obtain the mountain, all will be well with them."

"That's good," she said, feeling a little relieved. He led her toward the river winding between large boulders that dwarfed them in size.

"I am sorry, I had meant to tell you, but the tailor from which I ordered your coat was one of the buildings that was burnt in the attack three days prior."

"It's all right," she said.

"In the meantime, keep mine."

"But don't you need it?" He chuckled.

"Have you already forgotten our time is spent in the Misty Mountains in the rain and snow? It will take much more than these insubstantial gusts to make me or any dwarf cold. Besides, it pleases me to see you wear my coat, as I cannot yet put a bead on your hair." She felt her cheeks heat and her heart skip a beat.

"Well, I won't complain," she said, drawing his coat around her more closely. She buried her face in the fur, taking in a deep soothing breath. "I still love this smell." He chuckled.

"One might wonder if you like that coat more than me," he said, shaking his head.

"Oh, the coat definitely," she said, grinning. "It's not stubborn unlike somebody else I could name."

"Perhaps," he said, drawing them between two large boulders. He lifted the lantern and blew out the flame before turning to face her. "However, there are many things that coat cannot provide that I can."

"Like what?” she asked, cheekily. Thorin stepped closer to her in the dark, pinning her to the rock behind her. He pulled the generous hood of the coat up over her head, the fur tickling her cheeks and ears.

"Like this," he said, gently tugging the hood forward so her lips met his. She melted into him, the fire in her belly rising to flood throughout her body like a fever, keeping her warm better than any coat ever could. He deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding into her mouth, teasing hers. He let go of the hood, instead reaching to hold the back of her neck with one hand, the other slipping down to her lower back, pulling her against him. The hand at her waist slipped under the hem of her shirt, his strong fingers gently massaging her hip bone. The kiss broke and she had to grab his arm to steady herself. He pressed his face to her neck. She could feel his grin.

"Better than a coat?” he whispered, his voice husky. She gave a breathy laugh.

"Yes. Definitely! Better than a coat." He pulled back, the moonlight glinting in his dark eyes.

"Good," he said, taking her hand and drawing her through the dark towards the river. "Your father is there," he said as they rounded a boulder. She could see the lone figure sitting atop a jutting rock and recognized Bard. A dim lantern sat next to him.

"Will you be alright?" whispered Thorin. She nodded and he swiftly placed a kiss on her cheek. "Remember, I am here no matter your choice. I always want you." And then he turned and was gone.

She stood there for a few moments in the moonlight, gathering her courage before closing the distance between her and her father. Her foot kicked a loose stone, sending it clattering across the ground and Bard turned, raising the lantern, making its light shine towards her.

“Who's there?" he asked, one hand on the hilt of the new sword at his hip.

"It's me," she called, raising a hand to shield her eyes from the light. Bard visibly relaxed.

"Sara," he said, lowering the lantern. "What brings you all the way out here? You should be resting."

"I wanted to talk to you," she said hesitantly. He seemed taken aback but pleased with her reply.

"Come then," he said, holding the lantern so it showed the way to him. Carefully, she picked her way over the stones and clambered up to sit on the boulder beside him. They fell into an awkward silence and Sara struggled to know where to begin.

"I want…" she began.

"Sara I..." he said at the same moment. They both stopped.

"What were you going to say?" she asked, deciding it was easier to let him speak first.

"I wanted to apologize," he said. She frowned.

"What for?"

"Many things," he said, his shoulders sagging slightly. "But first and foremost for having sprung all this on you the other night. I was hasty. Hasty in my telling and hasty... well hasty in trying to be your father."

"But you are my father," she said, reaching to pull the chain that was no longer around her neck.

"But I did not stop to ask what you want, to see things from your perspective. The last I remember of you, you were a bundle in your mother's arms. But you, you have no memory of me at all. To you, I'm simply a man you met a few weeks ago who suddenly claims to be your father. I have always loved you, as a father will always love a child, but my memories are of loving a baby and not an adult and I failed to treat you as an adult. I apologize."

She was quiet for a long while, mulling over his words.

"I'm sorry I ran. I was overwhelmed. It's true I always hoped to find my family, but until two months ago I never expected to find you here. Heck, less than half a year ago I thought Middle Earth was just a place in a book. Now, not only do I find my father, but three siblings as well. I find I was not abandoned like I had always believed, but lost."

"All this time you believed you were abandoned?" he asked, pain gouging deep lines across his face.

"What else was I supposed to think? Clarisse found me on her doorstep and no one ever came for me."

"Who is this Clarisse?" he asked.

"The woman who took me in, who raised me all those years. She was my grandmother."

"Was?"

"She... she died last year."

"I am sorry. I owe her a great debt," he said soberly.

"She lived a good life. She was 87 when she died."

“There is much I do not know about you," he said, his eyes flicking over her. "And much you do not yet know about us.” She nodded, picking at the lichen growing on the rock beneath them.

"I'm not honestly sure where to begin except that I want to say I'm sorry for avoiding you for the past few days. I wasn't sure how to approach you and worried about how Tilda, Sigrid, and Bain would react."

"Well, I can tell you Tilda is quite enthusiastic. She has been asking after you." She smiled.

"That doesn't actually surprise me," said Sara. "She is very vibrant." Bard chuckled.

"Yes, she is. Something she got from your mother."

"What... What exactly happened to her? To my mother?" asked Sara hesitantly. Bard's expression grew sad.

"An illness six winters ago. We tried all we knew but in the end, she slipped away. It was one of the primary reasons why Sigrid has chosen to pursue healing."

"I wish I knew what I wanted to do as much as Sigrid does."

"What did you do before you came here?" he asked. She looked at him and smiled.

"I was a college student who jumped from one temporary job to the next as often as the semesters changed."

“A student?" asked Bard, confused. "You mean to say you have higher learning?"

"If you want to call it that," she said, shrugging. “I'm not sure how much of it is actually useful to me now. I suppose the math is still good and the language arts as long as we're still talking western or English. Science is probably still somewhat useful, although I don't remember much of it and who knows how magic fits in with all of it. Geography is moot as is anything technology or computer-related. And history is probably no use either and... and... I'm rambling," she said. "Sorry."

"Don't be," said Bard. "You sound very well schooled, certainly more than myself."

"But only in some aspects. There are some... many things about Middle Earth that I don't know. Basic simple things that you wouldn't even think of. I have almost no idea how to live here. Traveling with Thorin and the others has been like a really long cross-country hiking trip albeit a very dangerous one. I had to ask Sigrid very basic questions about feminine hygiene in Middle Earth. She was very gracious about it, but it was still kind of humiliating."

They were silent for a long while, and she wondered if perhaps she had shared too much again.

"It seems," he said at last, "That we both have a great deal to learn about each other." She nodded. "Much more than we'll be able to learn before the upcoming battle."

"That's for sure," she said, dropping the bits of lichen to the ground.

"What would you like to do in the upcoming days? You are welcome to come with your siblings and I, but... I understand if you wish to continue with the dwarves. It may even be for the best in some ways."

"How do you figure that? We are going to fight and hopefully kill a dragon."

"You would be surrounded by dwarves, who, if you hadn't noticed, look after you better than many families look after their own. Not only that, but I think you would be most comfortable with them, less awkward, less distracted. Besides, you would not have to pine after Thorin if you were with him." She felt her face heat, and Bard chuckled. "I will admit I find you an unlikely pair, but it is plain as day that you care for each other. It’s odd to see a dwarf wear his heart on his sleeve as much as Thorin does for you… but only when it comes to you."

"You're not against it?"

"No," he said. "So long as he treats you well, what more can a father ask? Although a father typically has more say in a daughter's relationships here in Middle Earth, it seems to me that your previous home did not operate that way. Besides, even if I were so inclined it would be a little late for intervention it seems.”

"In some parts of the world parents still choose your spouse," she said. "I had a roommate from India who was like that. But you are right, that's not something I grew up accustomed to. It's been a bit odd and irksome actually to have Fili try to step in and fill that role."

"Is he still going to try and make you his sister?”

"Heartsister, and yes. Apparently, there's no way for him to get out of his offer. Not that I think he would.” She launched into a more detailed explanation of Fili’s offer, how that was complicated by both Thorin’s desire to court her and Lady Dis’s letter.

"Sounds rather complicated," Bard said when she had finished.

"No kidding. I arrived in Middle Earth alone and now it seems I will have two families.” They fell silent once again, both thinking.

"I think," she said after a while. "I think I would prefer to go to the mountain with the dwarves, even if it means going to face Smaug."

"Then take this with you," said Bard, pulling the leather cord and ring from around his neck. She took it examining the ornate ring. The crest was different from the one inside the locket. “It’s the crest of the Lord of Dale. This ring would have gone to Bain in another year or two but you are my true eldest." She felt her stomach drop and she shook her head, handing it back to him.

"No, you should give it to Bain. I already lost the locket. I would not want to be responsible for losing two family heirlooms.”

"Are you afraid Bain would resent you for it?"

“Yeah, a bit,” she said, rubbing the back of her neck. If she were honest she knew that Bard would go on to be King and she didn't want to steal that from Bain. “He has grown up thinking he is the eldest. I’m not sure how being the eldest works in Middle Earth, but if it’s like Earth then you should keep treating him as the eldest.”

“But there is much that should be yours.”

“That’s what I mean. I don't I didn't come looking for you so I could get things. I only wanted a family and I found you. That's all I want. All I ever wanted."

"Is there nothing I can give you?”

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Not really. Give the ring to Bain. You will need it again.” He looked at her oddly.

“What do you mean?” She smiled.

“If this ends well, as I hope it does… Dale will be rebuilt and it will need a King.”

“King?” She nodded.

“King Bard… If we make it out of this alive that is.”

“And yet you wish me to pass the ring to your brother?”

“Please. I have enough going for me with this mark of the Valar business.” It would make it difficult to keep my secret."

“I see,” he said, frowning. “Truly you desire nothing from me?”

“I just want a family. I would however appreciate it if you would help teach me how to navigate life in Middle Earth. Thus far I have really only seen how dwarves and elves do it."

"Then what can I teach you?"

"Teach me... Teach me about myself." He looked confused. "When was I born? What's my birthday? I didn't even know my given name until three days ago."

"I see," he said. “You were born in the spring. April 17th."

"Then we were pretty close," she said. “We always chose to celebrate my birthday on April 26th. That was what the doctor estimated.”

"You were named Sigrid as was your sister.” He was quiet for a moment. “I can understand if you do not wish to go by Sigrid."

"I think… I think that would probably be for the best if only to avoid confusion. I have grown up my entire life as Sara."

"Very well, Sara, my eldest who doesn't wish to be my eldest. Who only wishes for knowledge. What else would you like to know?"

“Tell me... Tell me about my mother."

“Ah,” he said with a sad little chuckle.

“You... You don't have to if it's too painful."

"No," he said, placing a hand on her forearm. "No, she would have wanted me to tell you. I only wish she could have been here to meet you again. She always hoped you had somehow managed to survive."

"What did she look like?"

"She was short, perhaps an inch or two taller than you, although she was plump."

"I always wondered why I was so short," she said with a snort. "Clearly, that was not from you." He chuckled.

"No, and your siblings seem to take after me in stature, save perhaps Tilda. Only time will tell."

"What else," she pressed.

"She was blond like Tilda, but you have her green eyes. She was quick to laugh and quick to anger as well but had the biggest heart of any woman I've ever known. She wore her heart on her sleeve and always had a ready ear to listen to the woos of another. And she... she would have given anything to get you back," finished Bard. His eyes were soft with memory and sorrow. Sara tried to imagine her mother from his description but can only conjure a vague character.

"I wish... I wish I had met her," she said at last.

"I wish you could have as well," said Bard. “She would have wanted me to tell you..." But he paused, looking over her shoulder with a frown.

"What is it?" asked Sara, sensing his unease.

"That's precisely what I would like to know. Look." He pointed to the south where two figures approached on horseback. “They are not orcs, for orcs do not ride horses."

“You're telling me," she said. The figures were enveloped in bright white light and the longer she looked the more familiar one of them became. They were coming fast, the horses running full out. She could tell the figure on the white horse was an elf, tall and straight, his gold hair trailing behind him. The figure on the second horse, a gray stallion, was clad in gray as well, the end of his gleaming staff held high above his gray pointed hat.

"Is that…" began Bard. Sara's heart leaped when she recognized the gray figure and she felt hope and relief flood through her.

"It’s Gandalf!"