Someone to Watch Over Me

Chapter Sixteen

I hate it when I'm right.

Seren sighed as she stood freezing in the snow, with Sigrid and Tilda and the rest of Laketown's population. Thorin and the others had been arrested trying to break into the armory and had been brought before the Master for judgement.

She frowned as her gaze fell on Kili. He looked absolutely awful—pale and sweaty, with dark smudges beneath his eyes, and his limp was far more pronounced. He also seemed to lean very heavily on his brother, who looked over at him with much concern.

The Master stood on the steps of his house, the most elegant one in all of town, of course, as he called for someone to step forth and vouch for Thorin's character as Thorin promised the people that, should they help the Company in their quest for Erebor, he would share the mountain's wealth with them all.

She stepped up, but Bilbo beat her to it, saying, "I will vouch for him. I have traveled with Thorin Oakenshield for many weeks now and I can say that he is a dwarf of his word. If he makes a promise, he will no doubt keep it."

Thorin smiled at him and Seren didn't miss the way the hobbit's face lit up. How did Thorin not see what she did when it came to Bilbo Baggins? Somehow, she had the feeling she looked almost the same as he did whenever she glanced at Thorin as well.

The Lake Master looked around, spread his arms wide and in the grandest voice announced, "Welcome, King Under the Mountain!"

She breathed a sigh of relief, even as Bard glowered at them all. He was the only one in Laketown (or Esgaroth, as she learned it was called) who did not wish to see Thorin enter Erebor, and when Thorin stepped up to him, Bard said, "You have no right. No right to enter that mountain."

Thorin didn't flinch, showed no emotion as he held the man's stare easily and growled, "I have the only right."

And with that, he swept past Bard, motioned for the Company to follow, and they made their way into the Master's house for a celebration to end all celebrations.

***

By midnight, Seren had had enough of people and noise and cheer and wine. Her head ached a little, so she made her way outside, into the cold night air, to clear it. Snow fell lightly around her, dusting everything around them white. It was serene and peaceful and exactly what she needed. In fact, she barely even felt the cold.

A wide wood railing ran the length of the dock behind the Master's residence and she sighed softly as she leaned against it, hands clasped, wrists resting upon it, and gazed out over the sparkling water toward Dale. She could just make out the stone buildings in the distance and as she gazed upon them, memories slid through her mind.

"Am I interrupting?"

She didn't start as Thorin came up behind her, his hands coming down on the railing on either side of her hands. Although he didn't touch her, heat wafted from him to sink into her and help take away some of the chill. Without looking, she shook her head. "Not at all. I'm simply feeling a bit nostalgic."

"When was the last time you saw Dale?"

"The day I left it. I've often wondered what's become of it. And I suppose I will soon know."

Heat from his body sank into her. "Are you so certain you wish to see it?"

"No, I'm not, actually." Now she peered up at him. "What about you? Are you prepared to see Erebor?"

He nodded. "I am. I need to see it, need to see it all put to rest eventually."

"And if you see things you wish you hadn't?"