Daughter of Starlight

Chapter Thirty Four: Preparing for War

It had been hours since Bard had come and gone from Erebor, and I hadn't moved from the ramparts. While the company had gone inside to arm themselves for the coming battle, I remained outside, nearly frozen from the cold wind biting at me.

Although Kili had urged me to come with them, I found it impossible to go and join the company. I couldn't bring myself to face them. I didn't know how they could still see me as one of their own when they knew my father was coming for them.

I had paced along the length of the ramparts until my feet ached as I searched my mind for some way to fix this. It was my fault all of this was happening. I would not allow them to suffer the consequences of my actions. I had to set things right. But how?

"Laerornien?" It was Bilbo, coming from the stairs that led up to the ramparts. "Shouldn't you come inside?"

I shook my head silently, remaining in my spot as I turned my gaze back to Dale, watching the Mirkwood soldiers as they marched across the ramparts of the city.

Bilbo came to stand next to me, his head barely rising above the rampart.

"This isn't going to end well," he said, his voice somber.

"No," I murmured.

We stood in silence for awhile before the hobbit spoke again.

"Laerornien, there's only one way Thranduil's mind can be changed," he told me.

I looked down at him and gave him a questioning glance, to which he replied, "I'm going to go to Dale tonight and I'm taking the Arkestone with me."

"What are you going to do with it?" I asked him.

He sighed and gave me a grave look. "I'm going to give it to them."

"No," I immediately said. "You can't do that. That stone means everything to Thorin."

"Exactly. If he were to discover they had it, he would give anything to have it returned to him."

I opened my mouth to argue some more, but that was when I realized what he was saying. He was going to give Bard and Thranduil the Arkenstone so they could exchange it for what Thorin owed them.

As I looked upon the hobbit before me, I knew there was no talking him out of what he was going to do. Bilbo had changed a great deal since I'd first met him. He was no longer a timid halfling, unassuming and unsure of himself. He was as brave as the cunning woodland warriors I had grown up with and as loyal as the dwarves we had accompanied on this journey. He was determined to do whatever it took to help his friends, and so was I. I now knew what I had to do.

"Well, if you're going, I'm going with you," I said.

"No, Laerornien," was his immediate response. "It's too dangerous."

"Need I remind you that I can take care of myself?" I asked him. "Besides, what's a one mile walk from here to Dale compared to our trek across Middle-earth?"

Bilbo opened his mouth to argue, then closed it, seeing my point, but he opened it again to counter with, "What if Thorin notices you've left?"

"I'm not worried about that," I said, feigning nonchalance. "If he sees that I'm gone he'll most likely be glad to be rid of me." As I spoke I turned my gaze back to the ruins of Dale, swallowing back a sudden surge of emotion.

I didn't miss the sad look Bilbo had given me before I looked away from him. My words, which I had fought to keep indifferent, had obviously betrayed my true feelings.

"What we should be concerned about is what to do if he notices you've left," I said, trying to keep Bilbo from worrying over me the way he always did. "Remember, Thorin wants us at the ramparts ready to fight at daybreak."