Sara gritted her teeth turning her face away as Oin tugged a stitch closed on her arm. She leaned back against the wall and surveyed the small room, trying to distract herself. Moth-eaten drapes hug across the boarded-up window and dust lay like grey snow over everything. The floor sagged beneath her chair setting it off-kilter. Thorin leaned in the empty doorway watching the townspeople milling about in the large gathering room just outside.

With the Master’s mansion in a charred heap under the surface of the lake along with several homes and buildings, it had been necessary to find an area large enough to tend to the wounded and house those who were without. Eric had suggested they come to the abandoned inn. Surprisingly it was not in total ruin. Besides organizing a revolution Eric and his men had been repairing the inn in secret to use as a base. Several of the larger key rooms were in good enough repair to be serviceable. They had also collected a small stockpile of supplies and weapons which they volunteered.

“Why can you never resist the urge to injure yourself?" asked Oin. Sara hissed, as his needle and thread bit into her arm before he tied off the last stitch.

"I don't do it on purpose," she said, her voice rough.

“I know," he said, patting her arm gently. "I just dislike seeing you injured constantly."

"You and me both," she said, wheezing. Oin pulled the herb pouch from a bowl of hot water where it had been steeping. He wrung it out lightly and then held it out to her.

"Hold this to your face," he instructed. "It will help clear out your lungs." She took the damp pouch and held it over her nose and mouth with her good hand. As he began to bandage her arm a pungent bitter odor filled her lungs sending her into a coughing fit.

"Is it supposed to do that?" she rasped, once she had finally caught her breath.

"It is, so just you do as you were told.” He tied off her bandage. "That's your arm done. Any other injuries to report?"

"A few bruises and some minor burns," she said from behind the cloth. He snorted.

“You’re quite lucky that’s all. By rights, you should be covered in injuries.” He frowned as he dug in his pack again. "Apply this to any burns," he said, handing her a familiar jar of salve. "Alert me if the burns persist or worsen. Understood?" She nodded, slipping it in her pocket.

“How long do I use this?” she asked, holding up the herb pouch.

“Until it dries three times a day. I will replenish it every day for a week. Avoid overexerting your lungs and use your voice sparingly until then.”

She nodded, rubbing a hand over her chest. Her lungs ached with every breath that she took and her voice was a rasp at best. The steam from the pouch was pungent but had an odd soothing quality and she held it gratefully to her face.

“Thanks, Oin." He waved a hand and stood to usher her from the small room. She snagged her pack from the floor, struggling to sling it over her shoulder with her good arm while she held the pouch to her face with the injured.

"Just don't make this a habit."

"I'm afraid the regrettable habit has already formed," said Thorin, shouldering off the door frame and catching her pack just before she dropped it.

"Then keep her out of trouble," said Oin scowling. “Is anyone else injured?"

Sara grabbed for her pack but Thorin held it out of her reach before tossing it easily over a shoulder. She shook her head. Let him have it. She was just glad that Thorin had insisted that the packs be restocked earlier that day and thus had not been in the Master’s mansion when it had gone down into the lake. She didn’t much like the idea of losing all her possessions once again.

“Dori’s leg needs your attention though he will insist it’s nothing,” said Thorin.

"Pig-headed old goat, fussing over everyone but himself,” Oin grumbled under his breath. “Well come on, show me where he is."

Together the three of them made their way from the small room out into the larger main area where the injured and displaced guards and townspeople were gathered. As they crossed the uneven and unnervingly creaky floor Sara could feel many eyes on them. She hastened her step drawing closer to Thorin. He looks over at her.

"Are you well?" he asked. “In any pain?" She shrugged.

"I've been better. My arm is pretty sore and my lungs..." She broke off into a fit of coughs. "It's hard to talk.” He nodded.

"Dori is there," said Thorin, tapping Oin on the shoulder and pointing through a doorway to their left.

"Right," said Oin, hoisting his bag further onto his shoulder. Sara made to follow but Thorin caught her elbow.

"We have business elsewhere.” She frowned behind the herb pouch confused. "We need to speak with Ranson and Eric about what happened and I would like to know more about the guard Talson. We need to know where we stand in this town and if we can urge an evacuation."

“That makes sense. Where are they?" He led her around a hole in the floor and down a hall to a closed door in front of which stood Fili and Legolas.

"Uncle, Sara," said Fili looking up and then frowning as he eyed Sara. "You look rough." She shrugged, not wanting to speak and lapse into another coughing fit.

“What news?" asked Thorin.

“We slew another six orcs when we made our search of the Town," said Legolas grimly. “That makes 38 in total."

"Did any escape?"

"Who's to say in this fog? We found two more rafts made from stolen barrels. One near the front gate and the other to the South. We did not however find one near the burnt mansion, nor did we find any sign of Alfred or the Master."

"The mansion probably collapsed on the last raft taking Alfrid along with it," said Fili.

"What of the fires?" asked Thorin.

"The one near the main gate was stopped before it could do any real damage but Dwalin and the others haven't returned from the fire to the north yet."

"Have you reported this to Ranson and the others?" Fili nodded.

“They sent out a group of men to help put out the fires and Talson sent the uninjured guards to patrol the town in shifts. Apparently, some of the guards fled the town." Thorin frowned.

"Where is Kili?"

"He and Balin are inside,” said Fili, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder.

"Then let's waste no more time. We may not have as much of it as we thought."

Fili opened the door behind him. The room looked like it had once served as a storage room. Dilapidated shelves had been pushed back against the wall and old empty crates dragged forward to service chairs. The room was dimly lit with candles that flickered as Sara passed them and made her way to the empty crate beside Kili and Balan. Thorin and Fili sat on her other side. Opposite them sat Ranson with his children and Eric. Off to the side, Bianca was finishing the bandage on Talson’s shoulder.

"Don't use this arm if you can help it," she said tieing a rudimentary sling over his shoulder.

"For how long?" asked Talson.

"Until it's healed over. Perhaps two weeks, but I wouldn't expect to properly use the arm again for two to six months." Talson glanced at Sara.

“When did you say this war of yours begins?"

"A little over a month," said Thorin. Eric snorted.

“Don't use this arm," reiterated Bianca."If you do, you risk crippling yourself." She turned to Ranson, all business. "You’re next. Shirt off," she ordered.

"I'm fine," he said, holding his left arm close to his chest. "There are things we must discuss."

“Then discuss them while I stitch up your side. It needs tending to, or do I have to appeal to your children to secure your cooperation."

“She’s right Da,” said Sigrid, from where she and Tilda were washing clothes in a basin of hot water. “You need to be tended to.”

“You may as well give in now," said Eric from beside the closed door. “You know she will win in the end." Ranson sighed.

"Very well.” He loosened the ties to his shirt, favoring his left side as he gingerly pulled the garment over his head and handed it to Tilda. Something fell out onto the floor and bounced through the dust towards Sara’s boot, but Ranson did not notice as Bianca began to clean the cut over his ribcage. Sara bent to pick it up. It was a heavyset silver ring on a leather cord. There was an ornate emblem etched into the silver that she did not recognize.

"Take care," hissed Ranson, jerking out of Bianca's reach.

“I'll tend to you. You continue your conversation," said the woman slapping away his defensive hands.

"Well I for one have questions," said Talson, looking at Sara expectantly. “You asked me to trust you and I have. But now there is time, explain how you know the future. You said the Valar sent you, but from where?"

“First I would hear your tale,” said Thorin. “How is it that one of the Maters guards failed to carry out his order and arrest us.”

“Agreed,” said Eric, watching the guard. “Why should we trust you? Many of the other guards fled the town when the orcs attacked. Why did you and the others remain?”

“I supposed that might come up,” said Talson, rubbing the back of his neck. “Very well.” He repeated the story he had told Sara only hours ago.

“I can only assume that once they suspected the Master’s demise the mercenaries abandoned the town.”

“Good riddance,” said Eric.

“I understand your reticence but know that I and the remaining guards are committed to the safety of this town.”

“Even if it should come to war?” asked Thorin. Talson nodded.

“But now tell me more about yourselves, this quest, and especially Ms. Sara.”

“Sara is from another world," said Kili. "In her world, our story is written down in a book. That is how she knows the future. Only she doesn't really know it all. Not everything that's written down happens exactly as it says. It's all rather complicated.”

“You’re forgetting the further complication of her vision in the mirror of Lady Galadriel," said Fili.

“Lady Galadriel allowed you to look in her mirror?" asked Legolas, his attention snapping to Sara. She nodded.

"Hold on," said Talson, holding up his good hand. "You mean to say you are from another world entirely?”

“Yes," she said muffled by the herb pouch.

"And we are just meant to believe this is?" asked Eric skeptically. Sara shook her head.

"It's never enough just to just believe is it?" she grumbled.

She looped a foot through the strap of her pack pulling it closer. Passing the ring to Thorin she fumbled with the fastenings before retrieving the puzzle box. She pulled the pin from its place and slid the box apart, pleased to see that the inside was still bone-dry despite her dip in the lake. She pulled out the tooth from Beorn, Fili’s bead, the hairpiece from Thorin, and his folded letter before finally retrieving her phone. Handing the rest to Kili she pressed the power button and then held the phone out to Talson. He took it and then promptly dropped it when it chimed and the screen lit up.

"Careful," said Sara, giving into another fit of coughing. Fili snagged the phone.

“What is that?" asked Bianca, her work on Ranson’s side forgotten mid-stitch.

Fili raised the phone and snapped a picture, the flash illuminating the room briefly and startling the townspeople. He held out the phone for Talson’s inspection. Eric came to peer over the guard’s shoulder and together they studied the image. After a long moment, Talson looked up at Sara.

"Explain... In detail," he said. She opened her mouth, but as she took in a breath she coughed again.

“Let me," said Fili. She nodded gratefully. Kili had restored everything save Fili’s bead to her puzzle box. He tugged on the hair by her ear and held up the bead. Relenting she turned so he could better reach her hair as Fili began to tell their story from the beginning. Fili explained how the quest for Erebor began and that night in Bag End.

“You say you came through a door?” asked Talson. “How?”

“No idea," she said from behind the moist pouch, her voice scratchy. "I had known how at the time I would not be here today but back on earth. Gandalf just said that the Valar sent me and it was here I was meant to be.”

Fili continued to tell of their journey to Rivendell, their encounter with orcs and goblins in the mountains, and of meeting Beorn. He told of finding out that Sara knew the future and had a copy of The Hobbit, their struggles through Mirkwood, and finally their recent encounter with the elves.

"But I still don't understand," said Ranson, looking at Thorin and wincing as Bianca pulled a stitch tight. "Why would you accept her into your company? I have always understood dwarves to be a very private and reserved race."

“We are," acknowledged Thorin. “And at first I was against the very thought of Sara joining the company. Even the mark of Mahal on her hand would not sway me. The only reason I allowed her to …”

“The mark of who?” asked Talson, confused. Sara realized that throughout Fili’s retelling of their story he had been very careful to skirt around the fact that she carried the mark of the Valar on her hand. She peeled the glove from her hand.

“The mark Mahal,” she said, flicking the braid Kili had just finished over her shoulder and holding her hand up for all to see. There was no flurry of movement, no gasps of surprise, or nods of understanding. Instead, they were glances of confusion shared between Eric, Talson, and Bianca. Ranson fell oddly quiet, studying Sara with his grey-green eyes.

"And just what does the smudge on her hand matter?" asked Eric.

"It's not a smudge," said Kili defensively. “It's a birthmark."

Sara pulled her hand down into her lap. She found it strange that the people of Laketown had never seen the mark. Then again the few people who had seen the mark since her arrival in Middle-Earth were generally those with protracted lifespans and in positions of knowledge and power. Why should these people know this mark when they were struggling to simply put food on the table.

"Because of the time and place of her arrival and because of this birthmark on her hand Gandalf said we were to bring her. He insisted that she was sent specifically to aid our quest," said Fili. “He threatened to quit the quest if we did not bring her.”

“What’s so special about this mark?” asked Bianca as she wrapped the bandaging around Ranson’s chest.

"It's the mark of Aule," said Ranson. His voice was quiet but he easily caught their attention.

“Who?” she asked absently, her fingers quickly tying off the bandage.

“Aule and Yavanna.” His expression was masked by the shadows cast over his face by his hair which hung loose and free from his usual half ponytail. Perhaps not everyone in Lake-town was clueless then. He even knew the names of the Valar whose mark she carried.

“Who are they?" asked Bain, looking up from the sword he was sharpening.

“Two of the Valar, the ancient gods of our world. Aule, the master crafter, creator of the vessels for both sun and moon, and father of the dwarves. His mark is the hammer. His wife is Yavanna, the queen of earth, giver of fruits, and singer of the two trees. Her mark is the vine barring both a single fruit and flower.”

“You seem very familiar with these symbols,” said Balin. “Have you seen them before?”

“Only once before.”

"When?" asked Sara, watching the bargeman. Ranson's gaze was fastened on her, but though his face was slack and tiered his eyes held something she could not quite pinpoint. Sorrow? Regret? Hope? "Where have you seen it?"

"Once about 24 years ago.”

“And how did you know their meanings?” asked Balin.

“The wizards taught me and my wife.”

“What wizards?" asked Fili suspiciously.

"Blue wizards away to the southeast near the Sea of Rhun."

“And what business did you have with them?” asked Balin.

“I..." began Ranson, but Thorin got to his feet, cutting him off.

"Before you explain that, explain this." He dangled the ring before Ranson's nose. “This fell from your shirt. Tell me, how are you in possession of the ring of the Lord of Dale?”

Ranson studied Thorin for a long moment before holding out his hand for the ring. Thorin let the cord slip from his fingers and into Ranson’s before returning to sit beside Sara.

“It has been passed down in my family for over 150 years,” said Ranson.

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“Who are you really?” pressed Thorin. “Why are you in hiding?”

"How did you know?" asked Ranson, rubbing a thumb over the ring.

“Before Smaug attacked Erebor and Dale were close neighbors. I met Lord Girion long ago and that ring was on his finger. That crest was the same as on the banners of his household. You know our story. Now tell us yours. Who are you?"

“I knew the time was close the day you spoke my name though you did not know it belonged to me. I am the man you have been searching for. I am the heir of Lord Girion. I am Bard.”

“Da? What are you talking about?” asked Sigrid, her washing forgotten as she dried her hands on her skirt.

“If you are the missing heir to Dale," said Fili. "Why did you not reveal yourself? King Thranduil told us the line had vanished."

"It was meant to vanish.”

“Why?” asked Thorin, his eyes never leaving the bargeman.

"But if you are here, why did you never step forward and lead these people?" asked Eric, his fist clenched. "Why did you leave it to others? These people are your responsibility."

“I am not the Master of the lake,” snapped Ranson.

“Da?” asked Tilda, going to her father and touching his hand, her little brow pulled low in confusion. "Isn't your name Ranson?"

“No love, it isn’t. My name is truly Bard. We are descended from the Lord of Dale. For the past 24 years, our family has been in hiding. Dead to the rest of the world.”

Bard. Ranson was truly the bard from the book, the man fated to slay Smaug and become king of the newly restored Dale. What was he doing here and in hiding no less?

“In hiding from what?" asked Bain, his voice angry and shaky. “Why did you keep this from us? Why have you lied to us our whole lives?"

"Because it's easier for children to keep secret what they do not know. I already lost one of our family to this and I was not about to risk that again." Bard stood abruptly and strode to the far side of the room running his fingers agitatedly through his dark hair.

"I knew this would come to the surface one day.” He rounded on them, his eyes locking onto Sara's. “I should have seen it sooner, should have guessed before now. Somehow you knew my name. Your questions when we first met. Your eyes, and now it all makes sense. But I never would have guessed.”

"You said we already lost a family member to whatever this is,” said Sigrid. “But mother died of sickness. Didn’t she?"

"Not your mother," said Bard, shaking his head.

“But then… who?” Bard drew a long breath and sank to the nearest crate.

"Sit,” he said to his children. “I have much to explain… to you all.” He cast a glance at Sara.

Hesitely Bain, Sigrid, and Tilda sat waiting for their father to speak. It was silent for several excruciating moments as Bard gathered his thoughts. Thorin reached for her hand but when she looked up at him she saw an odd mixture of grief and joy in his face. She cocked her head to the side as if to ask why. He only squeezed her hand gently with a small smile on his lips.

“I did not grow up in Lake Town,” began Bard at last. “Long before I was ever born my grandparents left this town behind and moved South to a port city on the Sea of Rhun."

"But why?" asked Bain. “If we are descendants of the Lord of Dale, why did they leave?”

“Because Dale no longer existed,” said Bard. “The city lay in ruins beneath a dragon’s feet. The people who once looked to our ancestors were taken in by the people of lake town and were soon assimilated. There was nothing to hold them here and times were hard even then, or so I was told.”

“So you were told?” questioned Sigrid.

“You are not the only one who grew up without knowledge of your ancestry. When your great grandparents moved south they in essence started life anew. The only thing they kept from their past was this ring which they passed down to my father and my father to me at the age of 16 when I was told of our history. My grandfather established a shipping and fairy business which was also passed down through the years.”

"I was 19 when I met your mother Hilda and after a year she agreed to be my wife. Life was good. My family had a well-known and thriving business, I had a beautiful wife, and we were happy. The first year was so wonderful. We decided to have a child but after two years we came to the painful realization that Hilda could never carry a child. It was... A devastating blow for her. She longed for a child with all her heart. We both did, but eventually, we accepted it. My parents died leaving the business to me and for a while. It was a struggle to make ends meet but we managed one day at a time.”

"As we could not have children that left Hilda free to accompany me in my work and she often did despite the dangers of the sea. The Sea of Rhun and its surrounding area we're not known to play host to the most savory of characters, but if one kept their head down and their nose clean and didn't offend the wrong person it was possible to make a decent living and thrive. If you were smart.”

"Then why did you leave?" asked Kili.

"We were forced to.”

“Who did you offend?” asked Fili.

“No one,” said Bard.

“But you just said mother could not have children,” said Sigrid. “How did we come to be?" Bard gave a sad smile.

“She did have a child, but not without help. It was to save our firstborn that we were forced to flee."

“Because of me?” asked Bain, surprised. "But..."

"No, not you," said Bard. “You... You were not our firstborn child. Long before you were born, Hilda gave birth to a daughter. You had a sister. Long ago."

Sara listened as Bard told his children of their past. What she wouldn’t give to know the truth of her past. At least this explained Bard’s sad look when she had asked about children missing from long ago. He had lost a daughter.

"What happened to her?" asked Sara softly, unable to stop the question before it tumbled from her lips. Thorin squeezed her hand gently.

“Up to this day, I could only assume she was dead. We searched for months for years for her but finally, we had to conclude that she was taken by orcs."

"What was her name?" asked Tilda.

“Actually,” said Bard, looking at his eldest daughter, a little pink in the ears. “Her name was Sigrid as well. Your name means beautiful victory and after all the heartache we went through that’s what you both were to us. Daughters born out of hardship.”

"But why would orcs take a baby and why did that force us into hiding?" asked Bain, ever pragmatic.

"That has everything to do with how your mother became able to carry children. About three years after our marriage we were approached by two old men who desired passage across the sea to a place near the burning mountains. They insisted we leave immediately and carry no other cargo. They kept their hoods up and only spoke when necessary. Well as I say, it was a wilder country and they were not the strangest passengers we had ever transported. We took the job.”

“One thing you must understand about the Sea of Rhum... it’s inhabited by ancient creatures all of which are violent and aggressive if disturbed. I had never encountered one before but there were ships that simply went missing and I had seen the damaged ones who managed to limp back to port. As we set off with our peculiar guests your mother and I could both feel that something was different."

“Did you see a sea monster?" asked Tilda.

"We did."

“And that’s why dwarves don't belong on water,” said Kili. Fili smacked the back of his head.

"What was it like?" asked Bain, now fully engrossed in the story. Bard glanced at Tilda and shook his head.

"I will not describe it in detail now for I wish Tilda to sleep tonight. Sufficeth it to say that it was the largest creature I had ever seen. Large enough to rival old Smaug himself. Your mother and I were sure we were about to be reunited with our ancestors. Just as all hope seemed lost, our passengers stood forth to do battle."

“But how could they possibly hope to win?" asked Bain.

"Ah," said Bard, tapping the side of his nose. "You see they were no ordinary men. They were in fact the wizards I spoke of earlier.”

"Did they kill the creature?” asked Tilda.

"Who's to say for certain. It was an immense and formidable foe and our passengers seemed taxed to their limit but we did manage to escape. Whether or not the creature died from its injuries I cannot say. We were just thankful to be alive to tell the tale."

“But what about mother?” insisted Sigrid.

“Upon realizing that our passengers possessed magic, your mother became obsessed with the idea that they could help us conceive a child. I was more reticent for we did not know where these men got their powers but your mother would not be swayed. She so wanted a child. Just before we reached our destination she finally convinced me and together we approached the men with our query. They revealed themselves to be Alatar and Pallando, two of the Istari tasked by the Valar with the keeping of Middle-Earth. Hilda begged them for their help and they consented to examine her.”

"What did they find? "asked Sigrid.

"A small interior defect was all that stood between us and the children we so ardently desired. Your mother pleaded with them to help. They relented to try and correct the defect but before they proceeded they warned us of the potential effects it could have.”

"Effects?" asked Kili, wrinkling his nose. "What affects?"

"It was not in their power to heal such a thing but that they could petition the Valar for help. They warned that once the Valar consented to help there was no telling just how far-reaching their powers could be. The Valar do not help idly or without expectation of a return.”

“A return?” asked Fili. “Like a trade or bargain?”

“Yes,” said Bard, nodding. “Hilda was so desperate for a child. She agreed and submitted to their spell work. We accepted, prepared for what would come… or so we thought.”

"Did it work?" asked Tilda.

"You’re here," said Sigrid. “It must have."

“It did indeed. We delivered our passengers to their destination and nine months later Hilda was ready to deliver our firstborn child. A strong and healthy baby girl lay cuddled in your mother's arms that night. It was the happiest moment of our lives together..." His face grew somber, his gray-green eyes misting over. "It... It did not last."

"What happened?" asked Kili.

“Two months later we were attacked without warning. Orcs set upon our house. Soon we realized that they were after our newborn daughter. We narrowly escaped with our lives and did the only thing we could think of. We fled across the sea on one of our ships. Hiding the ship on the far shore we made our way west only to run across the same two blue wizards. After explaining to them what had happened they insisted we show them our daughter.”

Apprehension swelled like a balloon and in Sara’s chest. But why should Bard's story affect her so? She felt the sorrow for him as he spoke of his lost daughter. She could not shake the sense that as he spoke something inexplicable was closing in around her as if his words were drawing her closer to some unknown destination. His story was sad and intriguing but Sara felt she was hovering at the edge of a precipice.

"Da," said Bain, watching his father intently, his fingernails absently digging into his arms. "What happened to our sister?"

Bard rose and came to crouch in front of Sara looking at her hand clasped in Thorin’s. He held out his hand to Thorin as if expecting him to hand over a precious possession. Thorin stiffened beside her momentarily. Bard did not budge.

“You are certain?” asked Thorin.

“There can be no doubt,” said Bard.

“Very well then.”

Thorin squeezed her hand one last time before placing her hand in Bard’s. Sara looked at Thorin confused. What was he doing? Bard’s anxious eyes found and held her as he rubbed a calloused thumb over the mark on her hand.

"I have seen this symbol only once before, and I thought I would never see it again after that day. When the wizards inspected our daughter they immediately found out why we had been attacked. Our daughter bore this same symbol, in the same place.”

Tears glistened in the corners of his eyes. She pulled her hand from his, uneasy. What was he saying? It was not possible, was it?

“Sara,” said Bard, his voice gentle and soothing. “You are my daughter, born with this mark on your right hand and lost me these many years."

Her brain was in freefall. Bard her father? Her... She had a father? Her eyes drifted to where Bain, Sigrid, and Tilda sat, their eyes wide with surprise. She had a family. Siblings. A younger brother and two younger sisters.

"Sara?" asked Fili, resting his hand on her shoulder. "Are you all right?"

She looked at Fili and nodded numbly. She was okay wasn't she? Thorin stood moving back, his warmth suddenly gone. In an instant, Bard's arms were around her. She sat frozen. What..? Why..? When..? She glanced at Fili, unsure why she felt this sudden panic. When she did not reciprocate, Bard released her and drew back to study her face.

"You have her eyes," he said, smiling gently. Who's eyes? Her mother's? A million questions flashed through her mind but only one found its way to her tongue.

"What... What happened to me?” Grief washed over Bard's sun-weathered face.

"I'm not certain."

"How did you lose me? Why was I sent to Earth? Why were the orcs after me?" He shook his head.

"I don't know everything," he said, pulling Thorin’s empty crate towards him to sit facing her. “But I will tell you what I do know. You were born with this mark on your hand but your mother and I had no idea what it meant until we met the wizards once again. It was they who taught us about the Valar whose mark you bear. We can only surmise that your mark was seen by a servant of Sauron for it was his orcs who attacked us, or so the wizards said. The wizards surmised that Sauron knew of your mark and feared you, though you were an infant. It was easier to deal with you now rather than later. We had always known the orcs were bad news but never to whom they reported. One thing was clear, we could not return to our home. Your mother begged the wizards to help us, to protect us but they would not.”

"But why?” asked Talson. “It was their doing."

"They said it would have been more dangerous should we follow them for they were going into the lands of Mordor.”

“Why?” asked Kili.

“All they would say was that they were tracking something. A great evil. Instead, they urged us to seek refuge in Rivendell. They assured us that Lord Elrond would hide us and insisted it would be the best place not only to raise you but also to seek answers."

"Then why are you here and not with Lord Elrond?" asked Legolas.

"We never made it to Rivendell," said Bard darkly. "We thought it best not to travel through the open so we went north following the river and then took the Old Forest Road across the Greenwood intending to then take the high pass into Rivendale. We were ambushed near the far end of the forest. The orcs came at us from nowhere in droves. I told your mother to take you and run but she wouldn't abandon me. She was fierce despite her small stature. We tried our best to protect you but it was all for naught.”

"We were on the brink of being overcome and it seemed we were doomed to die, but as the largest of the orcs raised his weapon to deliver the killing blow a deafening clap of thunder ripped through the air and lightning struck. We were knocked unconscious. When we came to the orcs were gone... And so were you."

Bard was quiet for a moment, his head hung low as he paused to collect himself. Warmth caressed Sara's cheeks, tickling as tears slid unbidden down over her lips and dripped off her chin. When had she begun to cry? Oin’s cloth pouch lay forgotten in her lap. Bard’s voice cracked and wobbled when he continued.

"We searched for you for days, months but never found a trace or hint of where you or the orcs had gone. At last, we had to assume you were dead. We abandoned our attempts to go to Rivendell and made our way back East. We could not return to the Sea of Ruin but I felt the desire to see the ruins of Dale. We explored the old city before turning south to Laketown. I saw the pitiful state of the people here and I could not abandon them. We changed our names and settled down.”

“Why change your name?” asked Sigrid. Bard turned to face Bain, Sigrid, and Tilda.

“Your mother and I feared that if we were to have more children that they too would be in danger, that perhaps Sauron would seek you out. That is why we were in hiding and why you could not know.”

“Did no one suspect who you were?” asked Legolas. “Surely the ring drew attention. Why did the servants of Sauron not trace you back to Laketown.”

“There was nothing to trace. As I said, my grandparents left behind everything save this ring,” said Bard, holding the ring aloft. “And even that they kept a secret from all but family. We did not wear it openly and no one knew where we originated from.”

“That’s why you never fought the master,” said Bain, watching his father.

“I had to preserve our cover, and leading a city into rebellion is hardly inconspicuous. It would no doubt have drawn unwanted attention. But now it seems we are the focus of all the unwanted attention in Middle Earth.”

"And what do you intend to do now?" asked Balin.

Sara's mind was ice... sludge... a bundle of wires frying all at once. How had this happened? Years, years she had been searching for her family. Dreaming of this moment. A thousand thousand times she had imagined what she would say, what she would do when she met her family. She would rage at those who had abandoned her, she would weep and cling to them. She would...

"I never thought I would be in this position," admitted Bard, sitting back and running a hand through his hair. "But it seems we can no longer hide. If as you say the orcs are aware of Sara's presence here in Laketown and they have seen the mark on her hand then it is only a matter of time till they return for her."

Sara leaned forward, elbows on her knees, face in her hands. She had dug through stacks and stacks of file folders back on Earth, spent countless days buried under proverbial mountains of information staring blearily at her computer screen. She had torn through the Master’s records for days now and all the while there had been no clue to lead her forward. Yet here in a matter of minutes, without any warning, the answer had been unceremoniously dumped in her lap.

"Will you urge the people to evacuate the town?" asked Legolas.

“It would seem we have no other choice," said Bard, glancing at Talson. "It's been clearly demonstrated that this town is not defensible and…"

Sara massaged your temples. This was happening so fast. She had a family. She glanced at her siblings... younger siblings. Tilda looked curious and eager and Sigrid surprised and anxious. Bain's eyes kept darting back and forth between her and his father, a frown on his lips as if trying to spot the similarities in their faces.

"Are we truly thinking of evacuating the town?" interject Eric. "Just before winter is upon us no less"

“What other choice do we have,” countered Talson.

"And what of the Dragon?"

"That's easy enough," said Kili. "Now that we found Bard he can kill the dragon."

"Kili," snapped Thorin, speaking for the first time in minutes.

Had Kili really just suggested that she send her newfound father to face Smaug? Even if Bard was supposed to slay the dragon according to the book, Kili could not honestly expect her to allow that. She was not about to place her family in jeopardy. The weight and worry of keeping four more people alive and well hit her like a sack of sand. Panic pumped like pricking ice through her veins, numbing her brain. What would she do? How could she…?

"What are you suggesting?" said Bard, shooting Kili a glare. "I agree to the evacuation and to being ready for war, but I did not say I would fight a dragon."

“And we don't expect..." said Balin.

Sara's hands, feet, and face felt like thousands of needles were pricking her skin. Her whole world was shaking in her own personal earthquake. She looked down at her knees only to find her calves were trembling. Her breath was short and quick. She had always pushed forward to this moment, to reuniting with her family but now that she had found them... what happened next? Did she have a home with them? Would she have to make her own way? What about the company? What about Fili, Kili, and Thorin? She sought his comforting face in the crowd but he would not meet her eye.

"Where are we even evacuating to?" shouted Eric. "We have no shelter and yet you want us out in the open while you antagonize a dragon! Are you mad?"

"We can use the tunnels under Dale," said Bard.

“What Tunnels?” asked Talson.

“There is a network of tunnels under Dale. They remain largely undamaged by the dragon.”

“That could work,” said Fili.

“It can provide a temporary refuge while the dragon is dealt with,” said Bard. “But we will have to move to the mountain quickly after. The tunnels would be a death trap should the orcs attack."

“Will you insure us shelter inside the mountain once the dragon is dead?” asked Talson, looking to Fili.

“Unkle, Balin, and I have already discussed this,” said Fili. “We shall provide a refuge for your people until summer should you require it in exchange for your help restoring Erebor before our people arrive.”

“The details can be worked out another night,” said Balin. “We should be able to come to an agreeable arrangement. What say you? Will you evacuate and fight in the battle ahead?”

“I will urge my men to follow me,” said Talson. “What of the people of the lake?”

“My children and I will follow you to the mountain,” said Bard. “But I think Sara should stay with her family"

The use of her name brought Sara back from her thoughts and into the present.

“What?” she asked.

“I want you to travel with us,” said Bard. “I lost you once and I will not risk that again.”

"What are you talking about?" shot Kili. "Sara belongs with us. She signed a contract. We need her. Our quest is not finished yet.”

"Is that all she is to you?” snapped Bard. “A means to an end? She is my daughter."

"He didn't mean it like that,” said Fili. “Kili is a dunderhead at times but he means well. We have claimed her as our sister and I swore to protect her. I don’t intend to let her out of my sight.”

“I appreciate all you have done up to this point,” said Bard firmly. “Truly I do but Sara belongs with her family. Surely you can see this.”

“But she and uncle...” began Kili.

"What does Sara say?" asked Talson, cutting across Kili and addressing Bard. "Surely she is old enough to speak for herself. She is an adult."

“She will of course choose to come with us,” said Bard. “She has even admitted she has been searching for us for a long time. What other choice is there?”

“Still let her say it,” said Talson.

In a moment all eyes were on Sara, willing her to speak. So many eyes expecting her answer, certain she would choose them. How could they ask her to essentially choose between them? How could she simply walk away from the company now? True she had never been thrilled with the idea of them marching on the dragon, but she had always expected it. For some reason, it was an infinitely more comfortable idea than separating from her friends to go with Bard and his children. She could not imagine huddling in some dark tunnel waiting for news of the dragon and the fate of the company. Despite having finally found her family she could not bring herself to leave the dwarves.

Bard would welcome her back but what of her siblings? Would Bain chafe at suddenly no longer being the eldest? Would Sigrid hate her for returning to claim the name from her? Did she even want to be called Sigrid? The only name she could remember was Sara. On the other hand, she knew for certain that she had a place in the company. She had friends in the dwarves and Bilbo, brothers in Fili and Kili, and Thorin… She glanced at him but he still would not meet her eyes. What was wrong with him?

“I...I want…"

"Sara," said Thorin, cutting across her. “Go with Bard. I release you from your contract, you need not fulfill it.” His voice was flat and devoid of emotion. He stood looking into the empty corner, his arms crossed over his chest.

“But I…” she began.

“Uncle,” said Fili, hastily getting to his feet.

"She belongs with her own kind," said Thorin. "The mountain is no place for her. I...” He paused for a moment. “I don't want her there.”

His words acted like a sucker punch to her gut. She sucked in a harsh breath fighting the bile that was clawing up her throat. What was he saying? How could he...

“Thorin, I…”

"This is for the best,” he said, his words punching her again. “You belong with your father, with your kin. You are no longer obligated to follow us."

"Uncle,” shouted Fili. “How can you say that to her after all we've been through? How can you…”

Sara did not hear him finish. She bolted. The door banged the wall behind her as her feet pounded a tempo to match the rapid heartbeat pulsing like a strobe light in her chest. She sprinted past the people milling about in the large room not caring as Bofur and Bilbo called after her. Bursting through the door she stumbled out into the night air. The cool air chilled the wet tracks on her cheeks as her feet fairly flew over the boardwalk. She careened around a corner only to crash into a broad figure.

"Lass? Whatever is the matter with you?" asked Dwalin, his soot-covered hands wrapping around her biceps.

Her lungs were burning from her exertion but she pushed away from him and ran. She ignored his calls and dogging footsteps running until her lungs forced her to stop. She turned into an alleyway. Her legs gave out and she collapsed under the lee of an overhanging balcony coughing and wheezing. She pressed herself into the shadows among boxes and crates, hugging her knees to her chest and ignoring the goose flesh on her arms and neck. Dwalin’s thudding footsteps came to a halt at the end of the alleyway.

“Sara, I don’t know what happened. Speak to me lass. What's wrong?” She didn't look or speak. He didn't approach. “Alright lass, if that's the way ya want it,” he said after several long silent minutes. He retreated just out of sight and sat.

Sara's mind was in a spin, her heart in tatters. So much has happened in the last 12 hours alone. She had eavesdropped on the Master and his letter from Saruman, confronted Alfred yet again and successfully fought him off, injuring herself in the process. She had discovered the truth about Talson and the Master’s guards and narrowly escaped both an orc attack and raging inferno only to be attacked again. In just the past hour she had not only found the lost lord of Dale but come to know that he was her father and discovered the truth of her past. She had found her family. But now Thorin... Thorin did not want her anymore. Why? What had changed? He had said he wanted to court her but now somehow thought it best that they parted ways.

She dug the heels of her hands into your eyes. What had she done to change his mind? Had he just felt sorry because she had no family and now that she had finally found them he could be rid of her? He should never have gotten her hopes up to begin with. It would have been better if he had just continued to ignore her as he did from the start.

She sat shivering in the dark, her clothes soaking up the damp from the wet boards around her as her thoughts grew darker, spiraling further and further out of her control. Boots approached and then stopped around the corner.

"She's back there," said Dwalin.

"I thought as much when I spied you sitting here," replied Balin.

“What's happened to make her cry so?”

“A lot, though I suspect that Thorin’s tackless words were the final coin that toppled the stack.”

They broke off into a quiet conversation in dwarvish that lasted for a few minutes. Although she could not understand what was being said she listened to their voices rather than remember Thorin’s emotionless face.

“He truly said that?” hissed Dwalin, returning from dwarvish.

“I’m afraid so,” sighed Balin. “Seems Kili is not the only one who could use lesions in tact."

“I’ll knock his teeth in,” growled Dwalin.

“It would not help,” said Balin. “Go tell the others we found her. No doubt they're half out of their minds with worry. Let me talk to her.”

Dwalin's footsteps retreated as Balin sought her out in the dark. He sank to the ground beside her letting the silence envelop them. The waves lapped gently below them as the lingering smoke drifted on the breeze sending her into yet another coughing fit. Her lungs ached.

“You dropped this,” said Balin, holding out the herb pouch.” She took it without saying anything and they sat there for what felt like an eternity.

"You have been through a lot today. I imagine your mind is all a dither after what just happened."

She nodded.

“It was hardly fair to spring so much on you all at once. It can't have been easy,” said Balin. “But try not to read too closely into what Thorin said earlier.”

“How am I supposed to read anything into clear statements? Thorin wants me gone,” she said bitterly. Her shoulders slumped and she fought back tears for what felt like the millionth time.

“I’m certain he didn't mean it like that.”

“That's exactly what he said,” she wailed, unable to keep the emotion from her voice. “I don't know what I did. I can't believe that after all this time, after all that we have done together he would just throw me aside.”

“Lass, you're emotionally overwrought after everything and he was careless with his words. Thorin is not throwing you aside. He just…”

“No Balin. You heard him. He said it's better if I just leave. He clearly doesn't care for me anymore.”

"When did I ever speak those words?" said Thorin, his voice cutting through the dark. He stood leaning against the building at the end of the alleyway, panting, a dark smudge of soot on his left cheek. She scrambled to her feet, fist clenched by her side, backing further down the alley. Balin stood brushing past Thorin to disappear quietly around the corner leaving them alone.

“Sara,” said Thorin, approaching her. “When did I ever say that I don’t care for you?” Anger rose like a bubbling mire inside her. How could he ask her that?

"You literally just told me I should go with Bard. You said I don't belong with you.”

"You misunderstand me. I..." He drew closer but she backed away until she had nowhere else to go.

"You said it was for the best if we said goodbye. You said..."

"Sara, let me…"

"You told everyone in that room you didn't want me around anymore.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he said, his voice growing in volume to match hers.

“They why say it? I finally found my family and maybe they didn't throw me away like I always thought they did. Maybe they actually wanted me but now that I’ve found them you…”

"Sara, you are hysterical."

"Why shouldn’t I be? It's like you said in the beginning. I'm not wanted. I have no business in your dwarf quest so just…"

"Sara," shouted Thorin, closing the distance between them and seizing her upper arms, the glint in his blue eyes bringing her tirade to a halt. Before she could react he drew her body to his and kissed her soundly. She pushed against him and he pulled away. She glared up into his face.

"You… you said…” she stammered.

He pulled her back to him, kissing her and sending her heart into a tailspin to match her racing mind. She pushed away again, confused.

“What… what are you doing?"

Again he locked his lips over hers. By the time he pulled away she was limp in his arms, her breathing labored. She gazed up at him with half-lidded eyes.

"Thorin? What are you..." He pressed the soft kiss to her neck below her ear.

"How many kisses will it take Sara?” he whispered into her ear.

“How many kisses will what take?” He caught her lips in a soft slow caress.

“How many kisses to convince you my feelings for you have not waned in the slightest?"

"But you said all those things…”

“Did I ever say I no longer cared for you?”

“But…”

“Did I?”

Had he actually ever said those words? She tried to remember and found she could not.

“No.”

“And you never will.”

“Then what was all that about? Why did you say all those other things?”

“Will you listen to me now? Or are you going to yell at me some more?”

She huffed. He waited. She sighed.

“I will listen.”

“Very well.” He sank to the ground with a groan and pulled her down to sit beside him.

“I didn't mean to imply that I no longer want you near me, that you were unwelcome in the mountain. Farthest from it. I want to be with you every moment of every day and indeed I someday hope that Erebor will be your home, but can you find fault in me for wanting you safe with your family until Smaug is slain?”

“You don't get to make that decision for me.”

“And I hadn't meant to. I assumed that you would prefer to go with your newfound family, not only to reunite with them but avoid facing Smaug. I did not mean to make your choice for you but to make it easier for you to choose. I did not want you to feel obligated to stay if you wished to go with Bard and his children. I am sorry. I should have been more clear, more careful with my words.”

Viewed through this lens everything made so much more sense. How had she come to the conclusion that he... She was an idiot. A tired keyed-up idiot but an idiot all the same.

“I thought you were just throwing me away.”

“I am sorry,” he said, reaching for her hand. “I should have been more sensitive. I was not thinking clearly.”

“Why?”

“I was distressed. I was certain you would wish to abandon the quest now that your family is found. I thought for sure you would choose them.”

“I don't want to make a choice at all,” she said. “This has been so much for me to take in."

“That's understandable. We should not have pressured you to make a choice so soon after."

“But I can’t just stay back while you and the others are in danger. I need to be there. If you left me behind I would go insane with worry and grief.”

“You may do as you wish as far as I am concerned. I may not want you in danger but I would be lying if I said my heart would be at peace with you anywhere but at my side.”

"I'm sorry,” she said. “I shouldn't have run off.”

“It’s alright,” he said, reaching to cup her cheek in his rough hand. “I understand by now that when overwhelmed you flee. But know that I will always come after you to bring you back.”

“But how am I supposed to choose,” she asked, leaning into his touch. “It’s impossible.”

"The choice is not permanent. You are not choosing between us. You are free to come and go as you please.”

“I...I don't know what I want."

"It's all right,” he said, pulling her close to place a kiss on her brow. “None of it need be settled tonight. It’s best you think on this a while. You need to rest. You've been injured and under a lot of pressure and stress the past few days. Particularly today."

She rubbed her hands over her face trying to soothe the muscles. She looked up at him. His face was lined and there was soot smeared over his left cheek. His beard and hair were all a tangle and his shoulders seemed a little less square. Guilt flashes through her, constricting her chest.

"I'm sorry I haven't been more help to you." He shook his head.

"There was nothing you could have done and it seems to slowly be falling into place regardless.”

“I suppose so,” she said. In truth, her mind was too tired to think at this point. She just wanted to sleep. He must have noticed.

“Come back with me. We are all tired and while things may have finally taken a turn for the better there is still much work to do. We have a town to evacuate, a dragon to slay, and a battle to prepare for. You have a family to acquaint yourself with.”

“I don't even know where to sleep,” she said, leaning against him.

“Well I would not advise out here in the open,” he said, wrapping an arm around her waist. She sighed.

“Can I just stay here with you?”

“I told you,” he said, pulling her into his lap. “You are welcome at my side anytime you wish.”