It's the things we love the most that destroy us.

had bartered with the bargeman, with a pretty price and over a dozen feelings of uncertainty in regards to their newest accomplice the company of Thorin Oakenshield found themselves stuffed into barrels and covered with fish. The smell was horrid, it would take weeks before she would be able to rid her hair and skin of the scent of dead fish, some half rotting. Yet again Arethusa and Thorin were sharing a barrel, through the wooden drill hole she could see the toll gate of Laketown and the dreary wooden town. From the other barrels, there were groans and grumbles of discomfort and disgust.

They had passed into the town and came to a dock, the bargeman tipped over her and Thorin's barrel, covered in fish slime and polluted water the dwarf and fairy stood. Bard flipped a coin to the dock worker as a bribe to keep quiet about the presence of dwarves in town. The Master of the Lake would not approve of their presence, yet the bargeman led then over wooden bridges and paths.

Bard stopped and turned back to the dwarves, fairy, and hobbit. "She may come with me, she looks to be my youngest daughter. The rest of you will have to wait for the signal." Arethusa was glad but worried, Thorin looked at her with concern only she nodded and he trusted her judgment.

The fairy and bargeman walked towards the house he had pointed out to be his own, it was hardly anything special, the boards were rotting in some places and missing in others, the wood looked to be centuries old. Beyond his home was the shores of the Long Lake, the ruins of a bigger town could be seen rotting away along the shore. She remembered the town as it had been in its glory days. It was a trading center, the market stalls used to be overflowing with spices and silks, now it was but a shell of its former self.

Bard placed his hand on his shoulder, bringing her into his coat as a father would his child. A pang of jealousy festered within Thorin at the sight of them walking away. "What are their names?" She could not help but be curious.

Arethusa tottered along on the creaking wooden planks, she looked up at Bard. "Tilda, Sigrid, and Bain." She smiled but it faded when they passed a market stall, a withered old man was trying to sell tapestries, the next stall over contained days old fish, the town reeked of raw sewage and fish.

"How do the folk in this town fair?" She knew the answer to the question before she had even asked, but for some reason she did, if only to be sure that her eyes were not deceiving her.

The bargeman shook his head already knowing what her intentions would be, "You are kind for wishing to help but it is best if you do not draw attention to yourself, the Master has spies hidden everywhere." The fairy's eyes darted around, true there were unsavory characters lurking about, but if they were spies she could not say.

"Of course." She nodded with a grim smile and looked towards the city's center, "Though I wager I could go unseen." Bard looked down at her, a small smirk pulling at his lips, he quite liked the fairy, not that he knew her to be such, compared to the company she traveled with. They came to his home and for a moment she stopped, looking up at the structure.

The bargeman waved her forward and climbed the steps up to the door of his home behind the fairy. "Da! Where have you been?" was the first question spoken the next was much like the first. "Father! There you are. I was worried." Arethusa went unseen as two girls leaped from their seats, arms wrapping around their father. The eldest peered around Bard, her eyes meeting the fairy's with hesitance and uncertainty.

Arethusa took a step forward, her hands clasped before her. The girl had warm brown eyes and hair the color of chestnuts pulled back away from her soft face. "Da? Who is this?" The younger sister and their brother had both taken notice of their guest as well.

Her arms were wrapped around herself in an attempt to keep warm as her clothing was soaked, it reeked of fish as well. She could almost see her breath within the wooden walls when she spoke. "My name is Arethusa." The fairy could practically see the questions churning within the children's heads but Bard placed his hand on his youngest daughter's shoulder.

"Tilda, why don't you see if she can wear one of your dresses?" The girl's face lit up with excitement and a strange type of sadness seized Arethusa's heart. Sigrid had taken the place as a motherly figure, Bain, she could tell was growing up too fast so he could help his sisters, leaving Tilda.

She looked very much like her sister but with darker hair, "Come, Miss Arethusa." The fairy followed the girl into a small side room where two beds were squeezed side by side, the small decorations made it obvious it was a shared room between the sisters. A single trunk sat at the end of each bed, hardly leaving walking space. Tilda knelt down, opening her trunk, she dug around pulling out a burgundy kirtle and white undershirt. "It's not much," her small voice was dismayed as she looked over the fine stitching and material of the soaked clothes Arethusa wore, "but I think it will fit you."

With a grateful smile, she took the clothing that had been proffered. "Thank you, Tilda, I'm sure they will be perfect." The girl nodded and left the fairy in peace, without her soaked garments she felt pounds lighter and cleaner. Bard had estimated her size correctly. The skirt of the kirtle only just brushed over the wooden floor, the only thing that would truly fit differently was the bodice. Arethusa quickly did up the strings on the bodice and gathered up her wet clothing so it could dry.

"Da...why are there dwarves coming out of our toilet?" Dwalin was the first to come up the stairs, he did not look pleased in the slightest. The next to come was Bilbo; the poor hobbit looked miserable at best. Arethusa bit down on her bottom lip to stifle the laughter that came from hearing Tilda's innocent comment, "Will they bring us luck?" A heap of old clothing and cloth had been piled onto the splintering table top, the fairy handed a small blanket to each dwarf as they came in and surrounded the table.

She came to the dwarf king last, a large burgundy tunic in hand, nearly the shade of her borrowed dress. "Thorin." He took the article of clothing and offered his thanks though his eyes remained focused outside of a window, looking up in the distance.

Arethusa looked to what had captured his gaze, on a wooden tower was a crossbow like weapon with four arms, a windlass. She had not looked upon such a weapon in many years. There had been one at the top of the citadel on Númenórë, never to be used in her lifetime, the time of dragons had come to an end on the island. "A Dwarvish Wind-Lance."

Bilbo looked up from the mug of hot tea he had been given, "You look like you've seen a ghost." Indeed, he did look like a ghost had appeared before him. Balin retold the story of the day Smaug came but Arethusa's attention had been drawn by Sigrid and Tilda moving about the company's soaked clothing, she kept an open ear but helped the two girls spread out their clothes to dry.

They had made good time, Durin's Day would be a little less than a fortnight away until the day came to set across the lake preparations could be attended to. For now, the dwarves were weary, cold, and hungry. Lines of clothing had been hung in front of the fire to dry. Bard had promised to deliver their weapons on the morrow, the sun was setting and the chill of night crept into the small house. After a ration of stew, most of the company had drifted away into sleep, all except for Thorin and Balin, Bilbo feigned to be asleep but he listened all the while.

Arethusa had laid her head upon Thorin's outstretched thigh, one of her hands held tightly to his, her breathing had calmed, her body was at ease. The dwarf king was almost afraid to touch her cheek lest he wake her but his advisor and friend looked on with a smile. Though he would probably never admit it, Thorin was worried, for the fate of the quest even if they had come so far, he feared that he would not be able to overcome the sickness of the mind that had plagued his forebears. Yet the fairy had a fool's hope that all would be well.

The two kept their voices low, even Bilbo could not make out what was being said until the older dwarf spoke a little louder and much plainer. "The things we love destroy us every time, lad. Remember that." Those were his parting words for the night. The only thing that kept silence at bay was the crackling of the fire in the grate. Thorin looked down at Arethusa, his heart swelled, had Balin spoke of his affections for her or of the treasure? He ghosted a finger along the outside of her ear, up to the pointed tip and then into her hair, she curled further into him.

When Thorin woke, Arethusa was gone. He waited several minutes, contemplating going to search for the fairy, even if she would say his worry and search were ridiculous. The door creaked open and a small figure entered, she drew back the hood of a cloak and pulled the garment off, hanging it on a hook. In her hands were several tied bunches of herbs and flowers. Arethusa could feel Thorin's eyes on her, sighing she returned to his side, sitting on the floor next to him. "Should I expect a scolding for leaving?" Her voice matched her smile, light, and teasing.

"No," Thorin muttered, his gaze was drawn to the dwindling fire.

"I saw Bard out, he will return in the evening with your weapons." Thorin nodded but said nothing, his eyes darted over her face. From her violet eyes to soft pink lips, she had a noble chin and button nose and was beauty incarnate in every sense. "Why are looking at me in such a manner, Thorin? Have I sprouted two heads?" She laughed quietly and looked down as to not meet his heated gaze.

He did not understand why she shied away from him in moments like this, he was undoubtedly just as nervous as her. The notion of finding someone of love was foreign to both of them. "I was thinking about what color metal would best suit you for a crown."

Arethusa sighed, shaking her head, "Thorin, I have told you before-," the dwarf king placed his hand under her chin, drawing her gaze back to him and the words that were on her tongue vanished when she looked into his eyes. The fairy looked around the room at the slumbering dwarves, some had begun to stir as morning light entered the room through windows and cracks. "Yes, I know. You do not desire coin or gems, nor a permanent place to call home, but would you deny a gift?" She said nothing in response but smiled, leaning her head back onto his shoulder until the rest of the company woke.

The fairy prepared a tonic and paste that she could use on Kili, he was feverish and she feared that her healing would not be enough to save him. It was a poison she had never seen before and one that was very powerful an ancient brew. "Are you are a princess?" Tilda's question startled her, the bowl of steaming water slipped from her hands and back into the boiling pot.

Arethusa looked at the child, they were on the same eye level. "Why would you think that, little one?" She continued grinding the kingsfoil, steeping the paste with tea and sweet violets.

"Da and Bain were talking about a dwarf prince and his princess. I just thought..." Arethusa smiled, though she was not smiling at Tilda, but Thorin. He was sitting at the table, looking on as the fairy busied herself with medicines.

There was a type of mischief in Thorin's eyes she had only ever seen in Kili and Fili's. Before Arethusa could manage a response the dwarf was speaking. "She's not a princess, not yet." The words shocked her, but Tilda ran back to her room, a wide grin on her face. Fili and Kili slept in the hall by the sisters' room, it was the two of them that had put the young girl up to the task of asking such a question. "What did he say?"

"That she's not a princess, not yet anyway." The brothers exchanged knowing glances and ruffled the child's hair before sending her back to bed and making their way to the kitchen table. Kili had to brace his weight while he sat, the pain in his leg was unlike nothing he had ever felt before. It was a gnawing pain that would fade for some time then resurface to be ten times worse.

Arethusa poured a serving of the brewed tea, sweetened with honey and handed it to the youngest brother. "Drink this." After giving the concoction a sniff, he turned up the mug, downing the drink and fell into Arethusa's awaiting arms. Fili was nearly laughing and Thorin looked at her critically before standing to help the fairy reposition the injured dwarf. "He'll be out for about an hour. It should give me time to pull out the arrowhead and stitch it up." She worked best alone and the dwarf king seemed to know this, he pulled Fili aside and left her with Kili.

Unbinding the wound she prodded around the inflamed skin. Her heart was pounding in her throat as she looked at the discoloration and vile fluid that oozed from where the arrowhead laid. An array of supplies and instruments had been laid out, in truth, they would do little for this type of wound. Arethusa glanced up at the young dwarf's face, he was completely at ease despite the poison that was ravishing his body. She winced as she pulled the skin apart and fumbled around with a pair of outdated forceps, tediously long seconds passed before she could extract the remaining piece of metal. Immediately, the fairy doused the bleeding area with a glass of brandy.

The paste of herbs was pressed against the broken skin in a thick layer before Arethusa bound his leg again. She feared it would not be enough. Her magic came easier than it had before the quest, with a glowing palm the fairy laid her hand on his thigh.

"Ir i thûl vorn thuia

A guruthos galar

A caladath gwannar

Tolo athelas! Tolo athelas!

Cuil nan ben firiel

Min gam aran havel!"

The words of the deep magic came easily, but the poison was of dark magic and it fought to keep its hold. It felt to be a tireless battle, one against dark and light, Arethusa resisted the pull to darkness with her entire being but she could not deny that within her was a darkness all of its own.

Kili had begun to come to before her healing was finished, he thrashed about a handful of times before calming. Thorin and Fili had rejoined her, as had Bilbo. Knowing some of the poison had been leached from the wound she cleaned away the now blackened paste and dabbed a fresh layer over the skin before binding his legs once more. Arethusa stepped back while Fili helped his brother to sit up properly, Bilbo watched her cautiously. She swayed on her feet, her balance unsteady and face deathly pale, a thin sheen of sweat had gathered on her brow despite the cold air of Laketown. Thorin had turned just in time to catch her under the arms as she slumped forward.

Ir i thûl vorn thuia

A guruthos galar

A caladath gwannar

Tolo athelas! Tolo athelas!

Cuil nan ben firiel

Min gam aran havel!:

When the black breath blows

And death's shadow grows

And all lights pass,

Come athelas! Come athelas!

Life to the dying

In the king's hand lying!