When in doubt, jump in head first

Death with a chance of goldsickness

A stunned silence followed Bilbo's words. Laelynn stared at him, eyes wide and mouth open. It wouldn't... she couldn't... no.

"We have to–" she started, "–to go– to get– Laketown– Bard–." Her mouth didn't seem to be working, nor her legs, because she wanted to be moving, running back into the mountain to find a door, not standing here, Bilbo's concerned hand on her arm. Bilbo? No: it was too big.

Laelynn turned on her heel, feeling like she was moving through treacle, to look back. Thorin's eyes met hers, remembered sadness darkening them. "There is no use," he said solemnly. "We are too far away to have any effect."

"No," Laelynn half-snarled, wrenching her arm away. "There has to be something I can do. I can't just not do anything." She saw sympathetic looks on the others, and tears fractured her vision. "I can't," she repeated, her voice breaking.

A few people patted her shoulder, and even Thorin seemed not to hold her snarling against her, but it didn't help. Laelynn stared at the distance, Laketown hidden by the gentle hills at the head of the Long Lake. She couldn't stand and do nothing; it went against her entire being. Her purpose for so long had been to fight other people's battles, and now she didn't know how to do anything else.

Her magic wasn't even of use, an overwhelming tiredness deadening her limbs and her ears and her eyes, until she could only see the quiet glow of Laketown burning, so far away, and could do nothing.

"We will take in whatever refugees find their way here." Laelynn turned, dragging her sleeve across her face, to see Thorin talking to Fíli, a hand resting on his shoulder. "I promise you," continued Thorin, and Laelynn felt something in her chest loosen. Kíli walked up to his brother, and squeezed his hand tightly, murmuring something she couldn't hear.

"There's a ledge," Dwalin said, and she turned to see him standing next to Ori. But when he spoke, he was addressing them all. "By the Front Gate. We could see what's happening from there."

There was a short silence as they digested Dwalin's words, and Laelynn felt herself moving almost before Thorin started to lead them to the Front Gate. She had to see. Had to know.

Thorin led them through what must have been the market when the mountain was thriving. Its empty stalls tugged at Laelynn's eyes, making her shiver. When they reached the Front Gate, large stone doors torn from their hinges were lying broken on either side. There was a pause, where the members of the company old enough to remember looked at them sadly; Laelynn turned away from a boot peeking out from under one of the doors. Then the spell was broken, and they spilled out of the entrance.

Like before, Laelynn didn't notice the stuffiness of the mountain until she was out. But now the air outside felt thick and heavy, the glow from Laketown more visible even as they clambered the rock Dwalin led them to, until they could see the town.

It was like Bilbo said: Laketown was burning.

It's salt-stained houses were burning: orange, red, gold, flickering towards the dark sky. Another tongue of flames rolled down, and Laelynn shuddered as she realised just how large Smaug was; his girth blocked the stars even more than the smoke could, and the only glimpses of him she could catch were a gold-crusted underbelly, a wing fanning the flames.

She glanced to her sides, seeing varying degrees of horror on their faces. Horror that must surely be present on her own. Thorin stood next to Bilbo, guilt and pain present in the maelstrom of emotions that flickered across his face. Bilbo looked even worse, guilt slathered heavily on his face. She knew why the guilt was there, knew she had as much a right to it as any of them, and cautiously put a hand hand on Thorin's shoulder. When he turned to her, she inclined her head in Bilbo's direction, pulling back her arm. He understood, and his own arm snaked around Bilbo's shoulders. He jumped, startled, but didn't remove it.