The man's name was Bard and he lived in Laketown and after a bit of a back and forth between him, Thorin, and Balin, with some grumblings compliments of Dwalin, the Lake-man agreed to smuggle them into Laketown.
Seren sat at the stern of his flat-bottomed barge, trying to ignore how cold she was, but it wasn't easy. Frost layered her hair, made her cuffs crunchy, and no matter how tightly she wrapped her arms about herself, she shivered. She, who'd slept out in the rain and on the ground in winter, had never before felt such cold.
Thorin and Dwalin spoke quietly amongst themselves. Kili sat against his brother, pale and shivering as well. The others were quiet altogether.
The lake that gave Laketown its name might as well have been an ocean, as land seemed to be little more than a line on the horizon in any direction. In the distance, the town itself rose from the center of the lake, with canals instead of streets and the houses stretching skyward instead of outward.
"Everyone, we need more coins," Balin said softly. "We are fifteen short."
Seren winced, her entire body aching as she reached for the oilskin sack holding her money. It was the only personal possession she had left. Her sword and knives were in Mirkwood. Her original clothes had been left in Rivendell. Her sack vanished when the ponies bolted after their first battle with the orcs. In the matter of a few weeks, she'd managed to lose just about everything.
She unwound the leather thong cinching it and spilled the coins into her palm. Too tired to count any of it, she pushed up to her feet and walked over to dump the lot of it into Balin's small palm. "Take it. I've no need for any of it."
Balin looked up at her. "I cannot take all of this, Seren." He glanced at the others. "Don't be stingy, lads. Pay up."
Seren tossed the oilskin into the lake. "I have no way to carry any of it now, so you might as well keep it."
Thorin came over to her. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine."
He pressed his hand to her forehead and she smacked it away as he said, "You feel warm."
"Impossible. I'm freezing." She turned to go back to where she had been sitting.
He crossed the deck to crouch before her. "Seren."
"I'm fine, Thorin. Just tired and banged up. Again. I just—" She stopped, shaking her head as she stared off toward Laketown. Her thoughts were such tangled knots, she didn't know which end was up or which loose end to pull. Now she could lean into him and no one would think anything of it. Now, she could let him comfort her if he so desired, and no one would bat an eye.
Except now, he didn't try to angle in alongside her or behind her.
"You just what?"
"I just rather wish I'd stayed in Bree. Or the Shire. Or anywhere else." She glanced over at Bilbo, who seemed to be studying them, but then sharply turned away. "And I think he is jealous."
Thorin glanced over toward the hobbit, then back at her. "I think you see something that isn't there."
She knew better, but didn't feel much like arguing about it. "I feel as if everything has grown far more complicated."
"Because they know you aren't a lad?"
"That." She met his gaze. "And us, I suppose."
A hint of mischief came into his blue eyes. "I thought you said there was no us?"
A heavy sigh rose to her lips and she let her head all forward into her hands. "Maybe there is... I don't know. Nothing is the way I thought it would be. No one was supposed to ever know I was a woman. It is so much easier when the world thinks me a boy."
Thorin rose with a grunt and shifted to sit beside her. Glancing at the others, he said, "They are all fond of you, Seren. Every man in this company sees you as one of us."
"But I'm not one of you. Even more so now."
"You are. You just haven't realized it yet."
Without thinking, she let her head come to rest against his shoulder. It just felt natural, and he didn't seem to mind it, either. Across from them, Gloín argued over giving up ten more coins, and she smiled as the others tried to convince him it would be in his best interest to do so.
Her eyes closed as Thorin eased an arm about her and pressed a kiss into the top of her head. "Your hair is frosty."
"I'm turning into an icicle."
"We're almost there."
She managed a smile, then lifted her head at the sudden tension in his shoulder. He abruptly stood, but said nothing and as her curiosity got the better of her, she also rose.
In the distance, shrouded in mist, stood the Lonely Mountain. It was serene and majestic and she could feel what it meant to the dwarves around her as they all, one by one, caught sight of it and went silent. Gloín, without a word, handed over the rest of his money to Balin.
Seren glanced up at Thorin. His expression was unreadable, and for the first time, he looked like a king to her as the lake breeze wafted across the water to lift his dark hair away from his face as he simply gazed toward the mountain.
Her hand found its way into his, and she smiled as he linked his fingers with hers and gave a gentle squeeze. As his thumb grazed hers, she wished she could forget her secret and trust in what Amara had told her. But she couldn't. If she confessed her true feelings for him, she would only hurt him when the time came to spill her secret. No, it was better this way. This way, the only one who ran the risk of getting hurt was her, and she was more comfortable with that than with being the one who hurt him.
Bard broke the heavy silence. "We are almost at the gate. Into the barrels with you."
She bit back a sigh as Thorin's hand slipped from hers, and one by one, they all did as they were told. As the barge glided to a halt before the checkpoint, Seren fought the urge to poke her head up and see what was going on.
Not that it mattered. The answer to her question came in the form of hundreds of slimy, stinky codfish seemingly falling from the sky to fill each one of the barrels. She gagged at the stink and tried to ignore the slippery scales pasted up against her hands, her face, stuck in her hair. She closed her eyes and tried to will away the rising nausea. It's only for a few minutes.
Above, through the fish, came the sound of Bard arguing with someone. Then, someone shouted, "Dump the barrels!" and her heart skipped a beat. Any moment, and they'd all be exposed and arrested and that meant another cell. Of course, if she was tossed into one with Bofur, he wouldn't have to worry about Smaug.
No, that wasn't true. She wasn't really angry with him. It was almost a relief, actually, not having to pretend any longer. And perhaps Dwalin was right and her voice gave her away before Bofur did. To her, her voice sounded throaty and almost husky, like a boy's before it changed. But it was entirely possible what she heard and what others heard were not the same voice.
Either way, it was moot. They all knew.
"Never mind," came the same voice who'd ordered the barrels dumped, and Seren breathed a sigh of relief as she closed her eyes and let her forehead come to rest against the inside of her barrel. It stunk of fish. She would be eternally grateful to never, ever see the inside of another barrel ever again or to get anywhere near fish.
The barge resumed its glide through the now-calm canals, and when they finally stopped and Bard said, "Come along. Follow me and do not draw attention to yourselves," she and the others all popped up from their barrels to send fish in all directions, to the bemusement of the dock-master.
Bard flipped him a gold piece. "You didn't see any of this, Percy," he said as he helped one dwarf after another from the barge. "And you can have the fish as well."
"See any of what?" Percy asked, his gaze following each dwarf as he passed by.
From the corner of her eye, Seren saw how his gaze lingered on her, and she bit back a smile as Thorin's hand caught hers and he gave a gentle tug as he said to Percy, "She's with me."
"Thorin!"
He glanced down at her. "What?"
"Why would you say that?"
"Because you are."
"Since when?"
He didn't reply, but arched a brow, offered up a grin, and tugged on her arm to pull her along as Bard led them through the alleys of Laketown. Although the populace of Laketown was that of Man, they all seemed to tower over both her and the dwarves. Still, they moved through the crowded marketplace, attracting only bit of attention, and Thorin did not let go of her the entire time. He laced his fingers with hers, and every now and again, his thumb grazed hers.
Bard's home was in the center of town and he stopped a block or so from there and said, "The Lake Master has eyes on my home at all times. There is only one way to get in without being seen."
He turned to them. "Can you all swim?"
The thought of plunging into the icy lake water was not at all appealing to Seren, but she followed the others and gritted her teeth to keep them from shattering against one another as the dwarves swam silently along the canal toward the house at the center of town.
But that wasn't the worst part about it.
"Da," a tall blond girl called over her shoulder as Seren peered up at her, "why are there dwarves coming out our toilet?"
Her sister smiled. "Perhaps they'll bring us luck?"
Seren rolled her eyes as she climbed up and out into what served as the bathroom. Soaked to the skin, still aching, and now frozen besides, she said, "How do you do?"
"Sigrid," Bard appeared down the narrow hallway, "take Seren and find her something warm and dry to wear. Your brother and I will tend to the others."
To say Sigrid looked confused would be an understatement, but she nodded and said, "Come with me, then."
Seren squelched along behind her, into a cozy little room at the rear of the tall house. As Sigrid closed the door behind them, she said, "Wouldn't you be more comfortable in my brother's clothes?"
"Miss Sigrid," Seren offered up a slight smile, "I'm not a boy."
The girl blushed and clapped a hand to her mouth. "Oh, I'm sorry... I thought—"
"It's all right. Everyone thought at first." She grimaced as she tugged the leather thong holding her braid securely and unwound her hair to let it stream over her shoulders. "I would be more comfortable, but I doubt anything of his would fit me."
"No. Most likely not. But, I'm afraid all I have are dresses."
"If it's dry, I'll treasure it."
Sigrid moved to a battered wardrobe and opened it. "Everything is dry and warm, I promise you that."
Seren sighed as she fought to peel off her wet tunic and leggings and hose. Her boots left puddles on the floor, but there was nothing she could do about that. Sigrid passed her a towel without turning about and Seren went to work drying her body and then her hair as best she could.
When she emerged from the wardrobe, Sigrid had a fresh muslin chemise and a lovely, if slightly faded, gown of deep green velvet. "These are old, but I've taken care with them and this is my favorite dress. I thought you might like to wear something pretty."
The girl's generosity touched Seren, her throat tightened and her eyes stinging as they fell on the beautiful dress. It had been years since she'd last been in a dress, never mind something as pretty as this one. "Are you certain? It's so pretty, I'd hate to ruin it."
Sigrid set the clothes on the bed. "I'm positive. Please, take it."
Seren shrugged into the chemise, the muslin cool and smooth against her skin, and Sigrid helped her into the dress. It was a bit snug in the bodice, but otherwise it fit perfectly and as she smoothed a hand along the velvet skirt, she looked up and said, "I cannot even begin to thank you."
"There is no need for that. No one would mistake you for a boy now."
Seren peered at her reflection in the small mirror hanging on the back of the bedroom door. Her hair was mostly dry now, thick and tumbling over her shoulders in loose curls and for the first time in a lifetime, she felt like a girl.
"I have dry hose," Sigrid dove into the wardrobe again, "but your feet look tiny. Perhaps a pair of Tilda's slippers will fit you until your boots dry."
She moved to the second wardrobe, the one Seren presumed belonged to her sister and a minute later, she had on a pair of pale green slippers that fit her almost as if they had been made for her.
"Sigrid?" Bard rapped gently on the door. "Is everything all right?"
She tugged open the door. "It's fine, Da."
Bard's gaze fell on Seren and she didn't miss how his back stiffened. "Miss Seren," he said with a hint of a smile. "You look lovely."
"Thank you."
"The others won't know what hit them."
She fought the urge to roll her eyes as she ventured down the narrow hallway, toward the great room, where the noise ceased as soon as she stepped into the room. Her cheeks grew warm as fourteen pairs of eyes slid in her direction and widened.
"Seren?" Bofur asked as if he might be mistaken.
"Stop. It's still me. I'm just dry now."
"Oh, lassie, you are more than that," Dwalin said softly. "Wouldn't you say, Thorin?"
She looked over at him, biting back a smile at the wide-eyed stare Thorin offered up in return. A slow smile lifted the corners of his lips as he said, "You look lovely, Seren."
"Thank you. I feel like a sore thumb, however. And if I trip over this skirt, I will hurt the first one who laughs."
"No one is going to laugh." Thorin stepped up and to her surprise, caught both of her hands in his. "We should talk."
"Not now," she said, mindful of how the others all tried to inch closer and listen to their conversation. "Don't you have weapons to procure? I'd like my steel back."
"That isn't going to happen," he said, releasing her hands. "Your blades, our blades—they are all somewhere in Mirkwood."
Dwalin looked over at Bard. "You promised us weapons. Where are they?"
Bard sighed softly. "I will bring them up. They will not be what you are used, to, though."
While the others waited for him to return with weapons, Seren moved away from the room, toward the rear of the house. She peered out the window at Laketown spread out before them. Dale was just on the far side of the lake. Erebor just beyond it.
Their quest was almost at an end.
She gazed over her shoulder at the others. Bard had returned with the promised weapons, which were in reality just modified boating tools, much to the dwarves' dismay. They demanded weapons of iron, true weapons, only to be told the Lake Master confiscated all the weapons years earlier and kept them locked in the town armory.
Thorin and Balin huddled together and she couldn't hear them, but from their serious expressions, she had the feeling at some point, dwarves were going to raid the armory. Somehow, she also had the feeling it would not end well for them.