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Chapter Text

Josephine stood on the road below Bagshot Row, the party tree behind her and a new sentence ahead of her. Anger shook in her arms, hands clenched at her side as Gandalf and Bilbo played their parts, unaware of her presence.

What were the Valar doing? She had done enough! More than enough!

Breath shivering in her chest she rushed off into the trees. How dare they expect more from her now, and after so long! She had finally fully trusted she'd be able to stay in Gondor, finally dropped her guard. They'd been talking about starting their family soon, and traveling to the Northern Kingdom for a time with long detours planned along the way to see their friends.

Josephine wrestled with herself, pulling any ounce of composure she could from the unbridled anger searing through her chest. If she was there, then, at that exact moment, then it was obvious where she was expected to go. She needed to talk to Gandalf, and soon.

From the trees she watched and waited for Gandalf to leave, then she began to follow him. He continued back behind the hill and into the forest, further and further from the homes and hobbits. And finally, he paused, turned around, and waited curiously for her to reach him.

"By your following me, I can only assume you require my assistance." His eyes drew down her, pausing at the silver stars on her vambraces and the white trees stitched into the collar of her tunic.

The Company would leave tomorrow, and decide on it's members by the end of the night, she didn't have time for a lot of subtly. She also didn't have the patience to try. "Gandalf, I need you to listen very carefully."

"I'm terribly sorry, My Lady, but I do not believe we have met." He said suspiciously, leaning on his staff.

"We will in the year 3018." She said cautiously, waiting to see his reaction. Was she changing her future just by telling him that…or had he known all along…

"You wish me to believe you come from my future? I have seen many strange things, but none like this."

"Your future and my past." She clarified. "The only reason I can think of that the Valar chucked me back in time is to join Thorin's quest to retake Erebor so what do I have to do to convince you I'm going?"

He glanced over the surrounding trees and drew closer. "And why would you come to think such a quest would be taking place?"

"I'm Josephine, a Seer. I know what's going to happen on that quest and not just because I'm from the future." She was beginning to miss the ease that her story had been accepted in Rivendell. Which in hindsight, was falling into place in a way that sent her reeling. "I also know you have a key to the back door into the mountain."

"Do I indeed?"

"And you're a Maiar, if that helps my case any."

"A strange thing for a lady of men to know, but not impossible."

Grumbling and frustrated and kept going. "I know the paths you'll take, if you don't let me join officially I'll just follow you."

"Things that could have been found by one with the right ears." He said darkly."

"If I don't go, the three Durins will die." Saving the lives of people during the Fellowship had been the right call, if not for Boromir she probably wouldn't have found Aragorn and saved him in time, dooming the entire quest. She wracked her brain trying to remember anything said about Erebor from Gloin, anything that could have let on that Thorin and his nephews survived. Very quickly she was realizing he'd been remarkably tight lipped about it and she'd just thought it was because of the grief of it. But maybe…

Gandalf's hands tightened around his staff and he looked worried.

"So either help me convince Thorin to take me too, or I make a giant nuisance of myself."

Gandalf looks at her curiously for several long moments before finally asking the questions he'd been saving. "Then tell me this, Seer. Why do you come in the livery of a Gondor that has a king?"

The trees on her collar bore his crown and the leaves of a living White Tree. It meant nothing to some, but everything to others. Others such as Gandalf who knew what it meant. But maybe that too would help her case.

"Because one day you'll see that king crowned."

"As well, that is fine livery even for a Seer of some standing in the White City." He continued.

If it hadn't been Gandalf, if it had been any single other person in all of Middle-Earth, she would've been more worried. But she needed to gain his trust and he'd know she was lying.

"Let's just say…" She took a deep breath and took the plunge. "The Steward will crown the King, and you'll crown the Queen."

She knew he finally believed she was telling the truth when his expression softened. "Will I indeed? How fortunate I might have such a thing to look forward to." He stepped closer, until his robes brushed the tips of her boots and leaned in to mask every word from prying ears. "So, your majesty wishes to join Thorin's company to save the line of Durin? If handled with care, I believe it can be done." He stood silent, pondering for so long Josephine wondered if she should interrupt. But then, "Very well. Come to Bilbo's door once the evening has fallen and join the dwarves for dinner. Once Thorin arrives I will speak with him about your request."

>>><<<

Josephine stayed in the woods for the rest of the day, finding the edge of a creek and watching the water blankly while it flowed past. She felt empty and raw, like a healing wound that had been torn apart again and wider than ever.

For the first time in a long time, she cried alone with no embrace to sooth her. Deep, wrenching sobs saturated with fear and anger. What if she didn't go home when it was over? What if saying goodbye to Aragorn that day was the last time, the last kiss, the last time she got to feel safe in his arms?

The unfairness of it all made her vibrate with anger, staring down at the water demanding an answer for the crime. "I'll do this." She growled at it, still unsure if she was being heard. "I'll try to save them and fix whatever problems there are but only if you send me back to him. The fucking moment my task is done you send me back to him or I'm not doing shit for you anymore!"

The creek bubbled lightly and a light breeze brushed through the air, tugging a blossom off of the tree above her. It was white and floated lightly into the blades of grass in front of her.

A coincidence, maybe. But she couldn't afford to think of it that way. The only way she'd make it through the quest now was if she believed she'd go back to him. So she'd believe it.

Somberly she took off her vambraces, cloak, and weapons. Aragorn's knife still sat along her belt and her throat clenched as her hand brushed the hilt. She pulled her tunic up over her head and took Boromir's knife from her boot. It was small, small enough to do what she knew she needed. She slipped the tip of it into the silver thread of the embroidered crowns on her collar. As far as anyone else would know, Gondor had no king, and it had no queen.

>>><<<

Aragorn wasn't worried when the party returned early, he was only excited to see her. But they reached the citadel sooner than expected and he was met in the hall, not by his Josephine, but by Halbarad. He was alone and his eyes were red as he hurried up to Aragorn where he was standing, frozen in place.

Aragorn's breath stopped, fear clouding his eyes. "Where is Josephine?" When the answer didn't come fast enough Aragorn grabbed him by the arms. "Where is Josephine!"

"She disappeared…" Halbarad said, still in disbelief. "Before my very eyes she was just…gone. We scoured the forests for miles, she was nowhere to be found…"

In his chest he could feel his heart shrink in on itself, crushing under the weight of Halbarad's words. He sank slowly to his knees, falling into Halbarad as his old friend kneeled with him on the cold marble of the throne room.

His sobs muffled in Halbarad's shoulder. They'd taken her back, away from him and to her world with no regard.

But then the doors of the hall opened again and Legolas ran inside. "Aragorn!"

His eyes shot up. Had they found her? Had there been a mistake? Was she okay? He stumbled to his feet and rushed to him with wide eyes. "Where is Josephine?"

Legolas' expression was strained and sympathetic, but not grieving. "I believe I know what has happened, though I know but a fraction of the tale."

"Of what do you speak?" He pressed.

"Her knowledge was not fully spent." Legolas explained hesitantly. "Not if one looks behind."

Chapter Text

Josephine squared her shoulders as night fell and she walked the path to Bilbo's house. She'd carry on through spite, through a fool's hope and if anyone tried to stop her she'd make sure they regretted it.

But now she had a part to play and passed through the gate, pausing with her hand on the wood and, for just a moment, realizing where she was. The green door was in front of her, marked with Gandalf's rune, and she was about to walk into a place she'd only ever dreamed she would see.

Fist raised, she knocked three times and waited patiently, fussing over the lay of her cloak and the wrinkles in her clothes.

It opened to the eyes of an old friend, but the face of a new one. Frazzled and wearing his dressing robe he seemed more confused to see her than he had been in the movie for the dwarves. She was starting to get used to it now.

"Good evening, Mr. Baggins." She tilted her head down in a court nod. "Josephine, at your service."

"An…And at yours." Bilbo stuttered with a frown. "I suppose you'd like to come in as well?"

Apparently she wasn't the first one there, something she was grateful for. The more dwarves that had arrived the easier it would be to slip around unnoticed until Gandalf had a chance to deal with Thorin. More questions would be avoided that way.

She cut in around him and he bustled off to deal with a crash that came from the pantry before he could say anything else. Dwalin's booming voice echoed down the hall and the higher pitch of Balin followed it to the chattering of Bilbo.

Josephine stepped cautiously into the empty sitting room where the fire burned brightly in the hearth. The familiarity was a comfort, even coming at such a high price. She squeezed herself into one of the chairs by the fire, her back to the door, and wrapped herself in her cloak.

Fili and Kili were the next to ring, and went down the hall without noticing her in the room on their left. Then another ring and she listened to Bilbo rant about dwarves as he opened the door a fifth time. Oofs and grumbles and complaints filled the air and Bilbo sighed heavily.

Glancing over her shoulder she waited a moment for the groups to filter out before standing to meet Gandalf in the entry. "Thorin won't arrive until after they've eaten." She told him.

"Very well. I have managed to acquire supplies for you, but I fear no steed will be found until we reach Bree that will suit you." He set a bag down at the side and nodded towards the dining room. "If you're going to travel with them, you had best go make yourself known. I fear there will be no good time to announce yourself so you might as well get it done."

He was right, she was hiding and it wasn't going to help anything. Unclasping her cloak she hung it on a peg on top of three others and left her weapons by the door. Gandalf left her, falling in with setting the table while she inched her way towards the mayhem.

Kili passed her with a bright smile and a chair in his hands. "You must be Mrs. Baggins! At your service!" And then he was gone, hollering back over his shoulder. "Fili! Don't forget a chair for Mrs. Baggins!"

"Jesus christ, this is gonna be a time." She grumbled.

Bilbo rushed after him clutching a stool to his chest. "Mrs. Baggin- I'M NOT MARRIED"

"Well then who is she then?" Dwalin said by the dining room entry, pipe smoking in his hand and staring at her under a pair of thick eyebrows.

"Josephine." She said courtly. "You'll find out why I'm here soon enough."

With a hmph, Dwalin took the pipe from his lips and hollered. "Save a morsel, there's a lady present."

Suddenly a plate of food was thrust into her hand and Nori scampered off before she could say thank you. Not that she had much of an appetite, but she picked at it nonetheless. The rules of a quest, you ate when you could whatever you could.

She leaned her arm against the door molding as the dwarves caused a ruckus at the table and watched them eat and burp and act out until the table was a mess of empty dishes and as quick as they'd gotten started they were done and rushing around clearing the table.

Ori walked up to Bilbo and asked very politely. "Excuse me, sorry to interrupt. But what should I do with my plate?"

"Here you go Ori, give it to me." Fili said, pitching it past Bilbo to Kili who snatched it out of the air and tossed it into the kitchen.

"That's my mother's Westfarthing pottery! It's over a hundred years old!"

Josephine ducked and skirted as bowls and plates and cups flew through the air, not a single one of them missing their targets. Then the silverware clinked and Bilbo's voice rose. "Can you not do that? You'll blunt them!"

"Oh, did you hear that lads? He says we'll blunt the knives." Bofur teased.

She slid in beside Gandalf along the wall, using him in part as a shield from the flying cutlery, and pressed her knuckles to her lips. She hadn't just loved the original trilogy, the Hobbits had also held a special place in her heart. Guilt came over her as the corners of her lips tipped up and the familiar song was sung between the dwarves. She didn't want to enjoy any of it, but there was still a small bit of wonder left in her and it cherished getting to see this.

Bilbo burst into the kitchen to investigate the damage, only to find the dishes washed and dried and neatly stacked with no casualties. Laughter echoed through the house but was suddenly silenced by a heavy knock at the door.

Pushed to the back of the crowd as the dwarves huddled in the sitting room doorway, Gandalf opened the door and welcomed Thorin inside.

"Gandalf. I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way, twice. I wouldn't have found it at all had it not been for that mark on the door."

"Mark?" Bilbo stuttered. "There's no mark on that door. It was painted a week ago."

Gandalf looked at him tiredly "There is a mark. I put it there myself. Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company: Thorin Oakenshield."

The lights were dimmed and they went back to the dining room where Thorin sat down with a bowl of soup and bread while the others questioned him. He noticed her, passed a glance to Gandalf who nodded, and went back to his kin. She waited, again at the edge of the room while they discussed, debated, and argued. Dragons and goblins and spiders waited in her future. Miles of travel and unknowable problems. What if she missed something? What if she changed something? The future of all of Middle-Earth could be changed depending on which theory of time travel was correct and then…She could doom the future she so desperately needed to return to.

Tired, and already knowing what was happening she broke off and wandered back into the sitting room. When Gandalf needed her, she'd join back in but for now, in the quiet of the cracking fire she tried to collect herself.

A half hour later Gandalf poked his head around the corner and motions for her to follow him. They gathered with Thorin in Bilbo's study and Thorin looked at her with a distinct lack of confidence.

"I told you to choose the fourteenth member of this company, not a fifteenth as it pleased you."

"Until this morning I quite thought fourteen would be enough. But circumstances have changed and an opportunity has presented itself." Gandalf explained. "The Seer Josephine has come to aid you in your journey."

"Seer?" Thorin scoffed. "Such things do not simply happen."

She crossed her arms. "I think using the term simply is a bit of an understatement here."

"I will not take on the burden of her protection. You have already given us enough dead weight to carry on this journey with your so-called burglar."

"I've seen my fair share of battles." She countered. "And I've traveled further distances than the length of this journey so don't use my lack of skills as an excuse."

"Your honesty, then." He snapped. "The riches of the mountain would nearly make a king of the whichever lord you serve."

Josephine pursed her lips and reached for the braid in her hair, tearing it apart and sliding the token out of it she always carried. Slapping the bead down on Bilbo's writing desk she glared at him. "This was a token given to me once by your kin, the same one who helped me learn the very skills that kept me alive in those battles. I am here because something may be about to go very very wrong on this quest and it's imperative it succeeds. But I can only do that if I go with you. If you stop giving me shit and realize that I'm going whether you want it or not, and the only difference will be whether I'm riding along with you all, or singing every drinking song I know at the top of my lungs over and over again from ten yards behind you!" She bit her tongue to stop herself from going on and took the bead from Thorin's hand, hoping he took it at face value and didn't realize it was the same bead Gloin was wearing in his beard in the other room.

Thorin shared a silent look with Gandalf and reluctantly turned his eyes back to her. "You will carry your weight."

"Good." Josephine said shortly. "Now if you'll both excuse me." She turned and stalked towards the pantry. The barrel of ale must have been nearly dry by that point in the evening, but the dwarves still crowded around it and Fili was just topping off a tankard, the foam rising to a rounded top above the edge. Josephine sighed and reached for it. "May I?"

Fili was caught a bit off guard, but handed it over and watched as she tipped it past her lips. Her first drink was good, slow, savoring the rich Shire ale. Then she tipped it back a second time and chugged. If she was going to get anywhere with anyone during the quest, she needed a good first impression. This one just had the added perk of hopefully dulling her nerves.

Fili's eyes widened in surprise along with the rest of the dwarves who fell silent until she dropped the empty mug to her side and wiped the foam off her upper lip. Cheers Dwalin slapped her on the back, sending her reeling forward.

"Good on ya, lass. Might 'ave ta come with us if you can drink like that."

Thorin's booming voice cut through the chatter. "She will be."

Dwalin, who a moment ago had been praising her college born skill, turned dark and laughed. "The lass is as fragile as Mr. Baggins' chairs."

"What?! What about my chairs?!" Bilbo's voice echoed from somewhere behind them in the hallway.

"She won't last a day in the wilds!" Nori added through a mouthful of cheese.

"Nevertheless." Thorin continued. "Gandalf has informed me that she is a seer. We would be foolish to leave her behind."

Despite his reservations, he wasn't going to let the other dwarves question her place in the company and she gave him a small nod of thanks.

"A lady coming to fight a dragon?" Ori said with wide eyes.

Balin frowned. "Thorin, perhaps-"

"Enough! I say she is to join us and I will leave it at that." He left the room, following Gandalf back to the study, no doubt to discuss the journey further.

Having done her duty, and hoping the coming buzz from the ale would dull things even just a little, she pushed past the dwarves and back into the sitting room. She sat on the window seat, crushed into the corner as far back from the rest of the room as she could get. The hour was late when the dwarves started filtering in and Thorin rested his arm on the mantle.

Pipes were lit and chairs were filled, Bofur found a spot on the window seat across from her and flashed her an awkward smile.

She wanted this gathering to be over, to slip away somewhere to sleep where nobody could hold her tears against her. They didn't need to know what she was leaving behind.

The deep hum began in the dwarves' chests and she felt it reverberate in her own as Thorin's voice began the song that once upon a time had brought her so much excitement. She thought, as they began the second verse, that her voice would be drowned out by the others. Small, light and quiet as she sang with him. But it wasn't, and several pairs of eyes turned towards her curiously as she matched their song with the kind of precision she shouldn't have been able to accomplish.

>>><<<

"Josephine. Josephine?"

Blankets shifting she rolled towards the sound of the voice and a hand lightly touched her cheek. Her pillow was soft and so inviting she almost ignored the voice, but something told her she couldn't.

"Josephine, my love, you must wake up now. There are things to do."

Aragorn. Relief washed over her as she opened her eyes to see him leaning over her, dressed for the day. It was their room, their bed she was in. Home. No Dwarves or quests or dragons to worry about.

She sighed and took his hand, holding it against her chest. "I had the worst dream."

He frowned and sat on the edge of the bed, laying his other hand against her cheek.

"I woke up in the Shire, decades ago when Bilbo went on his adventure. I thought I'd never see you again."

Aragorn nodded. "Your journey is important."

"What?" She sat up, her heart sinking. Something was off, this wasn't right.

"You have much to do." He leaned down and kissed her, then turned to leave. "It is time to wake."

Her eyes snapped open, this time to show the curved ceiling of Bag End. Josephine had to close her eyes and bite her lip to keep from crying. She could still feel his hand in hers, his lips against her skin.

Silently she got up, picking up the pack at her feet and a bedroll. No doubt it was Gandalf who'd left it there last night after she'd fallen asleep in the parlor. She could feel something come over her as she took hold of the bag's straps. It was a tightness like a spring in her chest, coiling tighter and tighter until it felt like it was the only thing keeping her in one piece.

The house was still dark, with just a faint blue hue coming from the windows to mark how close they were to morning. The dwarves' snoring rumbled through the halls and she slipped out the front door. Dropping her pack by Bilbo's bench she sank into it, propping her elbows on her knees and pressing her fingers into the back of her neck. An old fear was settling into her bones, uncertainty with a fool's hope of being returned home. Orcs, goblins, and dragons in her future and the burden of knowing that every step she took could ruin the future of Middle-Earth. How had she managed to carry this fear during the quest? How had it not swallowed her whole like a wave? She knew the answer, it was a familiar presence with a gentle touch and an even lighter kiss. And now she had to find a way to do it without him.

Chapter Text

Aragorn's eyes were dark as Gandalf arrived somberly in the front sitting room of the king's house where he waited with Legolas. In the span of a few hours he had lost his wife, and found that his friends had kept that future from him for his entire life. So when the wizard stepped into the room Aragorn couldn't muster even a sliver of kindness.

"In all our years I have trusted you and yet you would keep this from me."

Gandalf bowed his head in guilt and nodded. "Not for malice, Aragorn. I beg you find the strength to see that."

"You have lied to me, and worse than that you let her believe she was safe here. That she would not be taken!" He yelled across the room, furious even more for her than he was for himself. "She trusted you without question!"

"I could not speak of it." He explained.

Legolas wouldn't explain either, beyond telling him he had met her in Mirkwood nearly eighty years before. A time that called into question things he himself had known. "Why not?!"

"She would not allow it, Aragorn. My silence came at her request and hers alone, lest this knowledge come to her while she journeyed with the Fellowship."

Aragorn bit his lip and turned away. Of course she would have sworn them to silence. He could not fault them for their loyalty to her wishes. But surely there could have been a warning, some kind of preparation for her departure. "Will she return?" He said finally, dreading the answer that would follow.

Gandalf's voice was low and uncertain. "I…do not know her fate once her task was complete. Once it was over, she was never found."

"So she may yet return?" Aragorn pressed further. "If the Valar have the skills to bend time, why can they not simply return her to when they took her?"

"I do not pretend to understand the meaning behind their actions or the limits of their power. But I will say this. The day of her disappearance here was by my reckoning, the same day I met her seventy-nine years ago."

"How long was it until her task was complete?"

"She arrived April the twenty-sixth, and disappeared November the twenty-third."

Aragorn's chest clenched. Six months without her, six months of her journeying into dangers. And there was nothing he could do but wait.

>>><<<

Josephine stood outside the Green Dragon, loading packs onto the ponies and watching bets get placed over whether Bilbo would show as eleven o'clock drew closer. The dwarves mounted their ponies and Gandalf gave her a hand up to sit behind him on his horse. Thorin took one last look towards the hill where Bag-End sat and set off.

She'd give him an hour or two before she intervened. He'd been extra late in the movies so she wasn't going to worry about it. Not to mention the deal breaking event she was there to handle was not likely to happen at the beginning of the story and be as simple as Bilbo sleeping in an extra ten minutes.

So it was no surprise when, a half hour into their journey his voice called out from behind them.

"Wait! Wait!" They stopped and Bilbo handed Balin the contract. "I signed it."

Balin looked it over, folded it up, and tucked it away. "Everything appears to be in order. Welcome, master Baggins, to the company of Thorin Oakenshield."

"Give him a pony." Thorin ordered.

"No, no, no, no. That…that won't be necessary. Thank you. I'm sure I can keep up on foot. Yeah, I…I've done my fair share of walking holidays, you know? Even got as far as Frog Morton once." Two hands gripped him by the jacket and plopped him down on the back of Myrtle.

Gandalf dropped them back from the head of the column to ride with Bilbo and she smirked as coins started shifting hands.

"Come on, Nori! Pay up!" Oin called.

"What's that about?" Bilbo asked as a bag flew past their heads.

Gandalf smirked. "Oh, they took wagers on whether or not you'd turn up. Most of them bet that you wouldn't."

"And what did you think?"

"Well…" He snatched a bag out of the air and pocketed it. "My dear fellow, I never doubted you for a second."

Josephine peered around Gandalf. "Would've bet on you myself but they would've called it cheating."

From ahead of them Bofur laughed. "That's cause it would be, lass. Can't let a Seer from the future go round making bets she knows the outcome to, now can we?"

"You'd think differently if you profited from it." She quipped back, receiving a relenting shrug in response.

Bilbo sneezed next to them, and then a second time. He patted around in his pockets like he was missing something and when he looked up again, Josephine was holding a white handkerchief out. "Kept one for myself, I hope you don't mind." She said, passing him one of the three she'd pilfered from his linen closet before they left.

He took it and looked at his monogram in surprise. "No…I uh…not at all. Thank you."

They stopped for the night and the thirteen set about making camp as if they'd been doing it together all their lives. Nothing else to do, she started unloading the bags off of Bilbo's pony and unbuckling her saddle.

Her hands were curling under it to lift it away when a body shoved in beside her.

"I'll get that for you, no need to worry." Kili said, walking off with the saddle

So she went to the next pony. Bags unloaded and saddle unbuckled, she was reaching for it when someone else came, this time it was Fili.

"Don't worry yourself, Lady Seer. Allow me."

On to the next pony. Bags down, saddle ready, and this time so was she. Kili was coming up out of the corner of her eye and she was getting frustrated. There wasn't much she could do to hurt a dwarf, especially through all the traveling clothes and armor. But there was nothing protecting the man's ears. Her hand shot out and she pinched the cartilage between her fingers, pulling hard and using the moment he created trying to escape it to put some distance between them. With a few seconds of advantage while he rubbed his ear she hefted the saddle off and gave him a stern look as she walked it over to the rest of the tack.

"Ah!" Kili said, hand plastered to the side of his head. "I thought women from the race of men were all…"

"Don't finish that sentence." She said warningly.

Kili caught on and put up a big smile. "Horrible! Terribly mean and cruel! But not you, my lady…you are…"

Dwalin interrupted. "That hole ye'r diggin is getting pretty deep lad. Might want to stop now. Go on, help Oin get the fire goin'."

Kili sulked off and Josephine looked at Dwalin, waiting for him to make the next move. He hadn't just popped up to send Kili on his way.

"So I hear ye've seen battle?"

"Skirmishes and sieges. The front of a charge once." She explained vaguely.

"And ye survived. Very promising. Where did ye learn?"

She wouldn't be able to hide the dwarven bits of her training, she'd already told Thorin and it had quickly become known amongst the dwarves. There was only so much lying she was going to be able to keep up, it seemed a good enough compromise. "A Gondorian soldier and a dwarf but I won't name names for obvious reasons."

Dwalin huffed. "Gondorians, sturdy people in their own way. But I'll train ye up proper. And then maybe the lads will stop their hoverin'."

Josephine wasn't one to refuse extra training, but Dwalin's lack of faith in Boromir and potentially himself for all he knew, amused her.

A few days passed and they settled into a better routine. Dwalin tested her every night as dinner was being made and during that night's lesson, far enough away not to be heard by the others that were watching them from the fire, he paused and narrowed his eyes at her.

"Gloin taught ye well, lass."

She froze, too surprised by his accusation to cover it up right away.

"I know how he fights, very distinct and not always for the best, I can see bits of it in you. But this," He copied one of the moves Gloin had been particularly fond of. "Reckless. If ye ever use it again I'll kill ye myself."

Later while they were eating, Dwalin was walking past Gloin and smacked him on the back of the head.

"What was that for?!" He bellowed.

"Somethin' you'll do later." Dwalin grumbled.

Chapter Text

The next day brought them to Bree, the company blustering into the town in broad daylight, drawing the eyes of everyone they passed. Dwarves weren't an uncommon sight there, or hobbits. But thirteen dwarves with a woman and a hobbit and a wizard was. Bofur and Bombur set off with a bag of coins to buy a horse and the rest of them made for the inn.

The streets weren't much changed from before, though there were less houses in places and some seemed far newer.

The dwarves were all excited for one last pint of ale, expecting to find none between Bree and the Lonely Mountain, especially since the day was still young and they weren't planning to stay the night.

The sign swung in the wind, creaking on its hinges and looking freshly painted. A lump formed in her throat when she saw it, remembering how excited she'd been to see it the last time. Remembering how Aragorn had once again had to draw her away.

But there was no avoiding it, the bustle of dwarves around her pushed her up the steps and into the dark common room, quite in the daytime. The corner Aragorn had frequented while they stayed was empty and the table bare. Each glance to it as they chose a table was a desperate attempt to see him again. Every step she took felt like it took her further and further from him while the familiar path reminded her like a penance. He sat there once, stood there in that same place on those same boards. In the room upstairs he'd touched her face, clasped her shoulder, offered her comfort that got her through the journey.

Sat down at the table she was buffered on either side by the company and mugs of ale started to clunk down onto the wood, one was even set in front of her. But she barely got through one gulp of ale before the air thickened and felt sour. She pushed her way out from between the dwarves and made for the door, gulping fresh air as soon as it swung shut behind her.

She stumbled over to the fountain outside and wet her hands, running them over her face and across her neck. Once she'd thought the hardest thing she'd have to do was live through the War of the Ring. But there were things that went deeper, pains that grappled with more than simple fear. She wasn't sure she could handle this challenge the same way.

From the inn, heavy footsteps eventually followed her and Balin sat down beside her on the edge of the fountain. "Ye alright, lass?"

"No." She muttered finally, looking down at her lap with her jaw clenched in an attempt to hold it all together. "But that's just how it is right so don't worry about me."

He nodded, laying his hands on his knees. "Been here before, have ye? Carries some memories?"

She closed her eyes against the burn in them. "A few"

"Bad ones I'll wager."

"No, just…memories. I'll be here when you're all done. Go enjoy yourself."

Balin accepted her veiled request for privacy and went back inside while she stayed at the fountain. Eventually Bofur and Bombur returned, leading her new horse and she took the reins, waving them inside with a tight smile to go and get some ale.

>>><<<

Being that out of everyone, she and Bilbo were the two odd men out of the group, they gravitated towards each other in the evenings for dinner and conversation. If they were going to be outcasts, at least that had each other. That was the bright side, Bilbo had told her a day after leaving Bree when they were sitting by the fire with their dinners. Conversation naturally turned to Bilbo's family history but after a while, when she'd started to glaze over from all the names, he began to ask her questions again.

"Nori mentioned you hail from the south, do you have family there?" He asked her good naturedly.

Josephine stared down at her bowl and nodded with a tight smile. "Mhm."

Bilbo, clearly noticing her discomfort, softened. "I'm sorry, you must miss them terribly."

Taking a deep breath she gained some semblance of control and managed to speak again. "My husband…he's in Gondor." She sighed. "Or he will be, anyway."

"He must be very proud of you for using your gift to help the company."

Had he known, she was sure he would've been. Did he even know she was gone or was time too fickle to say. If she didn't return…she would leave instruction with Gandalf and Elrond, in case… "If I'd been able to tell him, he would be."

Bilbo looked stunned. "Were you not able to say goodbye and explain where you were going?"

"There wasn't a warning, that's how it happens. You blink or turn and suddenly…poof." Anger seeped obviously into her tone and she dug her spoon into a piece of meat in her stew.

"Then you weren't really sent here at all! You were kidnapped from your home!" Bilbo exclaimed so loudly the entire company fell silent and looked at the two of them.

She looked back uncomfortably as they stared.

Finally, Thorin stood and spoke. "Come with me."

She set her bowl aside and followed him out of earshot of the camp. He crossed his arms and, nearly matching her in height, had no trouble pinning her with a stern look.

"I wish only to ask this once. Have you come by choice? I will not have a member of this company here against their will."

"I'm here because I'm needed and because it's the only chance I have to go home again."

"That does not answer my question. Now, yes, or no."

Josephine bit her lip and looked away. "No."

His face fell. "Mahal...who is responsible for this?" He demanded. "Surely Gandalf-"

"Gandalf has nothing to do with it." She defended quickly. "But unless you're going to bring it up with the Valar, it doesn't matter whether I'm here by choice or not. They don't give a shit."

"Then you are released from your oath." He said. "I will not hold you here under such circumstances.

"If I don't do this I won't be here to fix whatever's going to go wrong. You can't send me away!"

"Child, I will not keep you here like some sort of captive!"

"Your nephews will die without my help!" She countered in a hiss so nobody would catch a word of it.

Thorin froze. "When? How?!"

"Thorin, I have every intention of seeing this journey through." She said firmly, her voice cracking beneath the veneer. "But I've been taken away from the man that I love and the duties of my station with no warning and no promise I'll return so no, I'm not here by choice. But if I'm here that means I'm needed so I'll commit to that duty even if it's offered to me at knife point."

"Gandalf warned me that your safety was of great importance but would not say why, so I can only imagine what station you hold in Gondor."

He seemed to have an idea, especially if Gandalf had done some work behind the scenes, but she was grateful he didn't ask her to confirm it. "This quest will keep my past and your future from falling apart as long as it happens properly."

Thorin looked at her with sympathy and she felt the first inkling of true support from him since they'd met.

"For what little it is worth, you have my thanks for your sacrifice." He sighed, sounding somewhat stubborn. "You have a place in this company, Lady Josephine, and my respect."

When they returned it was obvious everyone had been watching their exchange and they sat quietly waiting for the answer.

"Well?" Bofur asked.

"All you need know is she has sacrificed much to come here and is duty bound to stay. I expect you to show her the respect she has earned."

>>><<<

September 3019

The massive hearth of their sitting room crackled and popped as an unseasonably cool evening fell over Minas Tirith. Josephine sat cross legged on the floor of their sitting room surrounded by her weapons and armor. It was clean, polished, and repaired now, cared for by Ciril's attentive eye. There wasn't a speck of orc blood left to be found and as she lifted her cloak up, she realized even the smell of troll had come out of it.

Most of the items around her would be keepsakes now, like her hauberk from Morannon, leather still darkened around where her wound had been despite Ciril's best efforts. Some though, she would still keep and use, though the more she looked the more she realized only her weapons would stay with her. Her sword from Galadriel, the small knife from Boromir, and her bow from Rivendell she loathed the idea of replacing. Even the blacksmith who would have made her a Gondorian sword scoffed at the idea when he saw what she was already carrying.

The doors at the front of the house let in a burst of cool air and she looked up as Aragorn came down the hall, shedding his cloak and throwing it over the back one one of their armchairs by the fire. He looked tired and came around behind her, sitting down with his legs on either side of her and leaning in so they could share a kiss.

"Ciril was going to throw some of this out but…" She shrugged. "Guess I'm sentimental."

"Memories of how you came to be here." He said, reaching around her to touch the fabric of her elven cloak. "You were so frightened when we left Lothlorien. It pained me to see you suffer so."

She leaned back against him and pulled his free arm around her waist. "I'll be glad to put it behind me. I'm so done with knowing the future." Looking around at the piles she began to question if she should keep it all. Some larger things maybe, but the plain linen tunics that were patched and ill fitting? "Maybe I should get rid of some of it."

"Keep what you wish, keep all of it if you desire."

"It seems like so much to keep just to pack it away." But she did want to, parting with it made her uncomfortable, like she'd lose a connection to the quest. She also knew she would look at it again, run her fingers over the fabrics and leathers and remind herself of how she'd come to be in Gondor.

"You need not justify your choice to me." He said softly. "I too carry things of sentiment."

She felt him shift behind her and looked down curiously as his hand held a strip of pale blue fabric when he was done. The edges were cut raw but she recognized the pattern of the weave. "This came from Lothlorien." She said, taking the swatch. "Wasn't this mine?"

"In Rohan, after you had left with Gandalf, a maid was collecting some of our old things. Your tunic was too worn for repair and she asked if she could use the fabric elsewhere."

Brushing her fingers over the faded fabric she nestled back into his arms. "And you kept this?"

"It brought me comfort to have a token of you with me, so I cut this before she took it. I have carried it with me since that day."

Josephine smiled, feeling warm and content, but also well aware of what that tunic had gone through. "You did like…wash it at some point, right?"

He laughed and nodded. "Yes, and since."

"Thank god, cause when I took off that tunic in Rohan it was so stiff it practically kept its shape. I'd hate for you to be carrying that around for weeks at a time." She was laughing with him when she realized he had taken that from his pocket. "Wait, why are you still carrying it now?"

"My sentiments did not end with our quest."

Chapter Text

"My lord?" Ciril asked, repeating herself again when he didn't answer.

From his chair in front of the dying fire Aragorn pressed his fist to his lips, a scrap of blue wrapped around his knuckles. A third call got his attention and he sat up again. "My apologies, Ciril. What is it?"

"Lord Halbarad wished you to know the messengers have departed for Rivendell and Erebor and he has left to scout Ithilien."

Despite there having been so sign of Josephine, parties had been sent out to check again. Halbarad had taken it as a personal challenge, as if he could have done anything against the will of the Valar. That, Aragorn could only guess was the cause. Who else than Eru and those beneath him could harness such power?

Never before had he thought of them as his enemy, but they were also an enemy he couldn't fight. He could not bend their will anymore than Halbarad could have saved her from their actions. Furthermore, for all his anger towards them, their bringing her to Middle-Earth had saved them all…He had to believe that was what they had stolen her away for now.

"My Lord?" Ciril repeated when he didn't answer.

"Thank you, Ciril." He said quietly. "You may retire for the day. I fear there are few duties for you in her absence, so please, do as you will."

She bowed and passed him a somber look. "As you wish."

Silence fell over the room as she slipped out and Aragorn turned his gaze back to the fire. He would've been out in the wilds himself if he was able. He would have walked her path from Hobbiton to the Lonely mountain for any sign of when she'd passed there before. Any tell of her presence even though he knew there was none to find.

But he dared not go far from the city. If she returned she would not search for him in the wilds, but would make for Minas Tirith. He would not risk her coming home to find him gone.

Having been sworn to secrecy by her own command, Legolas and Gandalf offered very little in the way of specifics about her journey. They seemed to think it best to wait until the anniversary of the Battle of the Five Armies had passed before divulging all that had happened. Perhaps that too she had asked of them, but Aragorn yearned for everything. Please, Gandalf, tell him of what she had done on that day, while he sat there by the fire wondering after her. Legolas, what dangers would she face within Mirkwood, within that mountain where the dragon had once dwelt?

They had given him little, seeming to still fear their words could cause dangers to unfold only she had knowledge of. There was a chance still, though slim, that this was not her journey with Thorin's Company. That she might return and they would all know a future she had yet to see. Or perhaps that had been only her fear, blanketing their knowledge until she could return and grant them their voices again. Or…perhaps she had merely wished to save him from knowing the perils she faced, as if imagining them wasn't more difficult to bear.

But if Gandalf would not tell him, then he would beg his tale from Gimli. His father had journeyed with her, surely he himself knew the tale?

But his dour expression as he stood next to Aragorn's fire, pipe in hand, promised him little.

"I know the story of the mountain, Aragorn. It was told by many tongues but none spoke of her. It would seem her order of secrecy was well maintained by the Company these eighty years."

"Then tell me the tale you know." Aragorn pressed. "For she still walked that path though they do not speak of it."

Gimli nodded and sat himself on the nearest stool. "I will do what I can."

>>><<<

Another day, another camp, another bowl of stew. Josephine carried on spitefully as they passed towards the Lone Lands. Her mood was lower than usual and she was beginning to get the impression the dwarves weren't speaking in quiet tones just because they were tired.

"Alright!" Bofur said finally, setting his empty bowl on the ground. "That's enough. When this is all over, I'll not have ye goin' back to y'er husband spinnin tales of how we dwarves bored ye t' tears. Fili, Kili, give us some music, eh lads?"

Josephine watched as they produced two fiddles, a drum made an appearance, some flutes and clarinets, and Thorin even came to have a harp in his hand. Bofur held his hand out to her and wiggled his fingers with a grin. "Maybe another night." She offered wearily.

That was the wrong answer and he grabbed her by the hand and pulled her to her feet, knocking her almost empty bowl into the dirt. The dwarves began to play their instruments and Bofur danced her around the fire in a fast jig, then gripped her by the waist and tossed her. She met Fili's hands which had put down their fiddle and he smiled as she got her footing again before twirling her around with no less speed than Bofur had. She was summarily passed along to Nori, Dori, and then Kili until she was leaning against his shoulder laughing, unable to go on.

"There we are, lads!" Bofur bellowed. "Told ye the lass could crack a smile if we gave her a reason to."

"I'll have you all know," She said breathlessly. "I've danced on quite a few tables in my time." The rush of the dance had her grinning and she felt the lightest she'd been since arriving. Maybe the Company wouldn't be as ostracizing as she'd originally thought. Well, at least not to her, but Bilbo's acceptance would also come with time.

"We'll hold you to that at our victory feast once we take the mountain." Fili said with a wink.

Gloin tossed Kili his fiddle. "Best catch your breath, lass, the night's still young and we're not done cheerin' ye up yet."

By the time their festivities were over she'd danced through more than half the Company, missing only some of it's older members and Thorin himself who didn't leave his harp. Singing eventually joined the tunes and Bilbo very much enjoyed her recitation of The Green Dragon while he joined her in mimicking Merry and Pippin's dance in Edoras. Even Gandalf laughed and tapped his foot while he sat beside Thorin with his pipe.

It brought back the merriment of Bilbo's house and cleaning up after dinner, but thankfully it didn't fade as quickly. When they laid down on their bedrolls, Josephine's heart was light. She could see the shadows along the edges but she'd let her mind take respite while it stayed away. As much as she wanted to sink into the warm darkness of the cloud around her heart, she knew that would only lead to more troubles along the journey. She had to stay sharp and awake and strong. Aragorn needed her to come home to him.

>>><<<

Once they came to the deeper parts of the Lone Lands, the music was stopped. Even in the earlier times the area was dangerous with orcs. Most of the dwarves had fallen asleep but she was still up along with Fili, Kili, and Bilbo who was sneaking a snack to his pony, Myrtle. It was the first time she'd seen something familiar from the movies or books since they left the Shire, so the shriek in the distance wasn't a surprise and she didn't jump like Bilbo did.

"What was that?" He asked, eyes flicking around the camp and the land beyond the cliff they were camped along.

"Orcs." Kili said darkly.

"Orcs?" Bilbo said a bit louder, waking Thorin who was reaching for his sword before realizing it was just the two, teasing Bilbo.

"Throat-cutters. There'll be dozens of them out there." Fili added.

Kili continued. "The Lone Lands are crawling with them. They strike in the wee small hours when everyone's asleep. Quick and quiet, no screams. Just lots of blood."

Josephine walked over and grabbed Kili's arm. "Not the time, or the place."

"You think a night raid by orcs is a joke?" Thorin said sternly, pinning them with a look that quickly humbled them.

"We didn't mean anything by it." Kili mumbled.

"No, you didn't. You know nothing of the world." He grumbled, walking away to the other edge of camp to stare off to the horizon.

"Don't mind him, laddie." Balin told Kili gently, launching into the tale of Thorin's first encounter with Azog.

Azog, the one she was worried about most. If she was going to save the line of Durin, she had to do something about Azog. But this wasn't like saving Boromir, or being in the right place to be able to save Haldir. Ravenhill was a different sort of beast, and she had three lives to save all at the same time.

Josephine followed Thorin and joined him at the edge.

"I wager you've seen your fair share of orcs. Those who sit calmly while they cry out in the distance have either no grasp on their danger, or have seen too much of it." Thorin said gravely. "And I do not take you as ignorant."

She could still hear their cries echoing through the half of Moria, feel the pounding of their footsteps in her chest as she stood at Helm's Deep. The chanting as they approached the walls of Minas Tirith and the slow creep of them as they were surrounded on Morannon were stamped on her memory forever.. She knew enough. "I've seen them in overwhelming odds. After that a small party in the Lone Lands seems refreshingly manageable."

"I hope one day our futures will meet again and you can tell me such tales." He glanced around at their camp and then back to the horizon. "In the safety of Erebor where worries are banished by the warmth of the hearth."

She already planned on leaving detailed, written instruction with Elrond in Rivendell to ensure things went as they were supposed to later. If she did manage to save the line of Durin, the past her couldn't know about it, if for no other reason than maintaining the future Josephine knew to be true. At some point she'd need to impress that upon everyone in the Company, but she was waiting until Rivendell to do it. Where the safety of the hidden valley would keep away prying ears.

"Thorin, when this is over, if I get sent home." She paused, the 'if' weighing heavily. "I'll tell you everything."

Behind them Balin continued his tale and Bilbo finally interrupted with a question. "And the Pale Orc? What happened to him?"

Thorin turned and walked back towards the fire. "He slunk back into the hole whence he came. That filth died of his wounds long ago."

Gandalf's eyes landed on her and she turned to him, realizing his brows were drawn together worriedly, just like hers. The pale orc wasn't dead, and they both knew it.

Chapter Text

Josephine's horse was no war horse. Walnut, as he'd been named by the man who'd sold him, had been born and bred in the quiet Bree countryside and the clash and flurry of swords made him nervous. Having spent all her time on horses bred for battle, Josephine was finding his more skittish tendencies to be a bit of a worry. She knew he wouldn't stick around after the trolls showed up, but she had to actually make it that far in the first place. Apparently dear Bill the pony really had been a one of a kind creature.

When she'd mentioned her concerns in passing, Dwalin added a few things to their to-learn list. Which was why they broke from the company throughout the day, under the bright sun where orcs wouldn't be wandering, and Dwalin would charge after her.

"Come on, lass!" He urged, his pony determined enough to not be outdone by her horse that she was having to keep up with him instead of the other way around. "I'm supposed to be chasin' you!"

He pulled his pony around to circle her and telegraphed his movements as he brought his sword towards her. Their blades clashed into each other loudly and she held tight to the reins as her horse shuffled back worriedly.

"Easy now." She said, leaning forward to brush her hand over his neck.

Dwalin sighed and sheathed his sword. "Best leave it there for today, I'd say he's had enough."

She got down as he continued shuffling and loosened her hold on the reins. "Stille nú, sîdh." Her horse tossed his head a couple more times and she repeated herself.

He snuffed and snorted but finally started to calm down as she cooed her way through a few more words of elvish, glad to see some of Aragorn's magical horse boy skills had worn off on her.

Dwalin scoffed as she ran her hand down the horse's nose. "Elvish blades, elvish bows, and now elvish magic. Ye'r a strange woman."

"Won't argue with you there. I-" The horse startled again and tugged at the reins in her hands. "Next time I'm doing the horse buying." She said, trying to calm him down again.

Dwalin looked to the south of the road where the wind blew over them and frowned. "I think he might have some grounds for it this time."

Josephine followed his gaze, seeing movement through the tall brown grasses that she couldn't quite make out. But whoever was coming could see them, and so could their wargs who's howls echoed through the hills. "It's too bright out for orcs."

"These are no orcs." Dwalin said, seeing them better from the height of his pony. "They're of yer kin. An' no good can come of men who walk from Harloeg and keep wargs as pets."

Josephine pulled herself up into her saddle as the barking got closer, having no intention of being at ground level when they showed up. It was a good thing she had, even as her horse shuffled around on the road. The wargs burst through the grass, weaving around their mounts as six men came out onto the road, three of them on horseback

"Good day, gentlemen." Dwalin said as the men slowly surrounded them and called the wargs back to their sides. "Strange to find fellow travelers in this land."

"Stranger still, to find travelers such as yourselves passing along our road." Said the tallest of the group who'd stayed in front of them.

They were all armed and wearing threadbare cloaks with dirt stained hands and faces. Their eyes were sharp and dangerous, like cats who'd just captured a couple of mice. Josephine felt very much like she was under a microscope as the leader stepped towards her.

"Perhaps we could offer you our assistance." He said with a sickly smile.

Josephine glanced up at Dwalin who shook his head as her fingers twitched towards her sword. "I don't need any assistance, but thank you for your offer regardless." She said diplomatically.

"Oh I doubt that." He replied, wrapping his hand around her horse's bridle.

Still, Dwalin shook his head. "And why is that?" She asked, masking the wrinkle of her nose as the wind shifted and the man's stench hit her.

"We've been watching, the dwarf has been chasing you for more than a mile now. But you needn't worry now, we'll deal with 'im."

Josephine's jaw clenched as his other hand came to rest on her thigh and she glared over at Dwalin again.

"And we'll take good care of you too." The leader added.

She knew they were biding their time, trying to keep the peace long enough for the rest of the Company to catch up to them. Dwalin's plan wasn't lost on her, they were outnumbered and her horse wasn't going to behave through a fight. The irony of this all happening because they were trying to train him out of it was a little too on point for her taste.

"Now let's not be too hasty, gentlemen. I'm sure we can find a solution that will be…beneficial for all of us." Dwalin played.

"You think I'm wandering around the Lone Lands with a dwarf for no reason?" She said, grabbing the man's hand and removing it from her leg with a shove. "There's no better companion to bring on a hunt for treasure. But if you kill him then there's no chance of finding it."

Dwalin clearly hadn't been heading that direction with their story but he straightened up and schooled his expression to play along. "Tricky business, delving into ruins."

"Treasure hunters?" The man said skeptically. "We've found no treasure here, not even in the ancient crypts."

"That's because you don't know where the other crypts are." She explained. "He's traveled through the Northern Kingdom and met rangers who tell many tales. There is far more left in the Lone Lands from the old Numenorians than you realize."

"Yes, ruins infested with orcs and…other things." The man spat. "Things that moan like the wind but take no shape." A haunted look came over him for a brief second before his expression turned sinister once again. "So we will do you a kindness, and free you of the fate that awaits you there."

The men drew swords and she caught Dwalin's eye. Time had been bought, but from the look of it, not nearly enough. He looked at her firmly, then flicked his eyes back down the path they'd come from. A blatant order to run and ride hard back to the Company as soon as any opportunity presented itself, but she had a feeling that wasn't going to include him.

Wasn't the best odds, but in hindsight it also wasn't the worst she'd ever seen. Dwalin was to her right and the brigand standing to her left, still holding the bridle of her horse. The other five were spaced out and it would take them a moment to get close enough to do any damage.

The man wrapped his hand around her wrist and Dwalin's sword sang as he pulled it from its sheath. "You'd best remove y'er hand before I remove y'er arm."

"I'd do it if I were you, he's got an awful temper." She added, spine stiff as the heat from his hand sank into the bare skin of her wrist.

He let go of the bridle and her wrist in one motion, but it was clear in his eyes that it wasn't a surrender and one of his men closed in on Dwalin and put his sword to his throat. "It's not his temper you need to worry about anymore."

That much was obvious, and the way he looked at her when he said it made her blood run cold. She met Dwalin's eyes again and they seemed to come to the same conclusion. Or at least she hoped he was thinking what she was thinking, because she was thinking in very bloody terms.

The man reached for her again, this time for her arm. Masking it behind pulling away from him reach she slipped her hand under her cloak and grasped the hilt of Aragorn's knife as it sat lengthwise along her back. He reached again and the blade flashed in the sunlight as it sliced along his palm.

Beside her Dwalin used the distraction to dodge the sword held at his throat and slashed at the man, making him fall from his horse with a scream.

The leader reached for his sword, blood soaking the hilt from the deep cut she'd left him with. In the building chaos, Walnut did exactly what they'd known he would and she slid off his back as he bucked and bolted back up the road.

Knife in one hand and sword in the other she ducked a blow from the leader as Dwalin yelled something in Khuzdul and started hacking his way through the remaining two mounted brigands and cut down one of the ones on foot for good measure, leaving her only two to deal with.

She'd only fought with two blades a few times with Dwalin, but she liked the feel of the knife in her left hand, blade along her arm as she swung back at the other man. It slid down his face, leaving red in its wake and blinding him long enough for her sword to sink into his gut.

Howls rang out as the wargs joined the fray, chasing Dwalin as she dodged another blow from the leader. He gripped his sword with two hands, trying to keep a hold of it through the slick of his blood.

But he was hulking and angry, glaring at her in a way that would've made her quake in her boots the last time she'd walked through the Lone Lands. But she had too much to do, and too many miles to go to worry about a brigand. He slashed and she jumped back, swept down at her and she skirted to the side.

Don't reach for them, Boromir had told her once. Light and fast, let them come to you. It had served her at Helm's deep against the Uruks and as the man raised his sword to strike at her she ducked again, this time charging forward and shoving her sword through his stomach.

He gurgled and fell back into the dirt, blood sputtering past his lips. A few yards away, Dwalin had jumped off his pony and was squaring off with the last warg. She was about to run to his aid when he laughed and rammed his sword through the beast's mouth and up into its skull.

She wiped off her knife and sword and sheathed them as Dwalin, spattered with dark warg blood, retrieved his pony.

"Well. That was exciting." She drawled sarcastically.

"Aye, and we shouldn't linger. I doubt they were the only ones." A howl off in the distance proved his theory right and he led his pony over and motioned to her. "Up ye go, lass."

"He can't carry us both, Dwalin, you're as heavy as a boulder and I'm too big for him."

"He'll get ye back to the Company, better than that skittish brute of a horse would if he hadn't run off. I can hold my ground long enough for ye to get reinforcements."

Right. Cause Dwalin dying in the first leg of their journey wouldn't ruin anything! "I'm here to ensure this quest succeeds which includes you not dying so I'm not leaving you behind!"

"And I'm under orders to keep ye alive so if I die then ye'll be around to fix it."

As it turned out, their buying for time with the brigands did end up helping as a thunder of hooves crested the hill they'd come down and the Company charged down to them with their swords drawn.

Thorin eyed the horizon as the others encircled them and Bilbo waited just behind, looking winded on Myrtle and holding Walnut by the reins. She took them from him and mounted, ready to steady him as another howl came again, a bit closer than before. But Walnut didn't move, didn't so much as toss his head. Maybe trial by fire was just what he'd needed.

"He came barreling down the road right for us." Bilbo explained. "It's how we knew you were in trouble and got here so quickly."

Dwalin mounted his pony and Thorin caught her eye. She nodded in response, confirming she was fine.

"We can hear your story later." Gandalf said, looking at the carnage they'd left. "I think it best we move on before those wargs arrive."

They took off at a gallop, ruining any chance of slipping through the rest of the area unnoticed. But soon enough the howls disappeared and crested another hill to see the river before them. The Last Bridge stood practically unchanged from how she remembered it, and the thick greenery of the Trollshaws on the other side was stark in contrast to the dry grasses of the Lone Lands. Rivendell wasn't far off now, and she was both yearning for its safety and dreading its familiarity.

Chapter Text

There was a road. A whole, followable road through the Trollshaws. Josephine would've hoped they'd use it but Thorin kept them to the north of it, following a similar cut through the wilderness to what she'd walked before. Sometimes she thought she recognized part of it, a particular outcropping or dell that sent a pang of familiarity through her like she'd maybe once seen something like it in a dream.

If she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, the scent of the trees and grasses and flowers took her back to those early days. But when she opened them again, Aragorn's soft gaze wasn't there to comfort her.

The line of ponies made its way up a hillside to their left, littered with boulders that had come down from the mountainside. The day hadn't grown late yet, but when the ruins of an old farmhouse came into her view she knew they'd be stopping for the night. Stopping. But not resting.

"We'll camp here for the night. Fili, Kili, look after the ponies. Make sure you stay with them." Thorin ordered, pulling around to face them.

Josephine watched Gandalf step warily into the ruins and let Kili take Walnut's reins as she dismounted so she could follow him.

"A farmer and his family used to live here." He said mostly to himself, then turned and looked very pointedly at her as if waiting for an explanation of what happened.

"Oin, Gloin, get a fire going." Thorin continued.

Josephine didn't have an answer for him, but an inescapable grim look on her face probably gave him clue enough that his gut was right.

"I think it would be wiser to move on. We could make for the Hidden Valley." Gandalf suggested.

Thorin stalked into the ruins and gave Gandalf a tired look. "I have told you already, I will not go near that place."

"Why not?!" Gandalf said, continuing an old argument. "The elves could help us, we could get food, rest, advice!"

"I do not need their advice." Thorin snapped.

"We have a map that we cannot read. Lord Elrond could help us"

"Help?" Thorin said darkly, looking up at Gandalf. "A dragon attacks Erebor. What help came from the Elves? Orcs plunder Moria, desecrate our sacred halls, the Elves looked on and did nothing! You ask me to seek out the very people who betrayed my grandfather, who betrayed my father."

Josephine rubbed a hand over her forehead and sighed, mumbling to herself. "Where was Gondor when the Westfold fell, where was Gondor when our enemies closed in around us…Why do I keep getting stuck in these arguments."

Gandalf and Thorin, if they'd noticed her mumbles, didn't pay her any mind and kept on with their business. Knowing the stubbornness of dwarves, Thorin at the very least probably hadn't heard her, being too focused on Gandalf.

"You are neither of them. I did not give you that map and key for you to hold on to the past."

"I did not know they were yours to keep."

Gandalf sighed and turned, abruptly leaving her and Thorin standing in the ruins. Josephine watched him go, answering Bilbo's questions without stopping, until the tip of his gray hat disappeared into the forest.

"And I suppose you agree with the wizard that we should seek the advice of the elves." He pinned her with a stern look and cocked his head to the side. "Come now, Seer. Surely you too have your opinions on the matter."

His attitude turned towards her, she bristled with annoyance. The prospect of how their night would go already had her on edge and her patience was low. "And if I feel like telling you I won't wait for permission." That marked her turn to leave Thorin in the ruins of the famous and she set to work helping the dwarves with the ponies.

>>><<<

She should've run off with Gandalf and avoided the whole thing. All he had to do was show up on time and crack open a boulder. But no, Josephine had decided she needed to be a team player. If she ran off with Gandalf and they got stuck with the trolls all alone they'd all guess she knew and skipped out to avoid it. She had a feeling Thorin McGrumpy Pants wouldn't have taken too lightly to the abandonment of it all. But dammit she'd really been hoping to never deal with trolls again.

So she sat by the fire, ate her stew, and watched out of the corner of her eye as Bilbo set off with two bowls for Fili and Kili. By morning there would be no supplies, no horses, and worst of all, no food.

"Ye alright, lass?" Gloin asked as he slopped another ladle of stew into her bowl without asking. "Seem a bit out of sorts."

She dug into the extra without complaint and flashed him a smile. "Just hungry. This should do the trick." A perk of traveling with dwarves, hunger was always a proper excuse for a bad mood.

That seemed to satisfy him and he turned back to the fire with a nod. Nobody noticed or worried that Bilbo hadn't returned yet, and the ponies were kept far enough away that they wouldn't hear anything amiss either.

Josephine worked through the dialog in her head, trying to get an idea of how long they had until Fili and Kili came back for reinforcements. Then the dialog ran out and they still hadn't come. Maybe she'd rushed it, there was no telling how far into the woods they'd gone…right? So she ran through it again, reaching the end of it without a sound. Without benchmarks there was no way to fully rely on timing and the benchmarks in the Hobbit were much harder to remember than she was used to. But her gut twisted with a very clear instinct that something was wrong.

She stood abruptly, catching the attention of the others. "Grab your swords and follow me, something's wrong."

Thorin watched her carefully and the dwarves shifted awkwardly around the fire. "What is it?"

"Fili and Kili should've come back for reinforcements by now. Something. Is. Wrong." She grabbed the coat of the dwarf nearest to her, which ended up being Bofur, and heaved him to his feet. "You want my advice so bad then take it when I give it!" She snapped at Thorin, who finally sprang into action.

The two of them headed the company into the trees, following a glimmer of firelight in the distance past the now empty makeshift paddock. Nearing the clearing, Thorin quietly instructed the dwarves to spread out around it and wait for his signal while he and Josephine crouched behind a fallen log.

Bilbo and Kili were already stuffed into bags and Fili was in one of the Troll's hands with his feet dangling dangerously close to the boiling cauldron. Knowing all she had to do was buy time and having precious little of it if she didn't interrupt, she vaulted over the log and hollered at them.

"Oh come on you three, that's no way to cook a dwarf! You've left his boots on and everything. You have no idea what he's been walking in."

The three trolls froze and looked down at her in surprise.

"First a burrahobbit, then a couple dwarves, and now a man?"

"No, Bert, that's no man, look at his hair. Must be an elf!"

Buy for time, buy for time. "So which one of you is Tom and which is William?

"Why's the elf know your names?" Tom said.

Bert's hand snapped out and grabbed her, lifting her up to his face and sniffing. "Don't smell like no elf, smells like a man."

The overwhelming scent of body odor, rotten meat, and sour breath washed over her and she nearly gagged. "Well you smell like five deaths warmed over in a hot sun so I think I win that contest."

Her comment seemed to confuse Tom. "What contest she talking about, William?"

"Beats me."

"Look, those two dwarves and the burrahobbit you've got there are mine, I'd really rather you didn't eat them. I'm willing to pay handsomely if you put me down."

"Or we just eat you too." Bert said, tightening his grip just enough to make her breath hitch and her bones creak.

The moment she winced a deep yell cut through the clearing and the sound of eleven dwarves charging into battle caught the trolls' attention. Bert yelled as a blade glanced over the meat of his underarm and he dropped her. She bounced into Gloin's arms and he tossed her feet first onto the ground.

On the other side of the fire, Bilbo and Kili were untied and pulled from their bags and the dwarves were making quick work of things, swarming over the trolls like ants and coming at them from every angle.

But for as dumb as the trolls were, they were smart enough to know what leverage was, and Bilbo was soon held by his arms and legs and they were laying down their weapons. The story was back on track, at least as far as Josephine could tell, so she wasn't going to complain.

Half of them were bagged and half of them were tied to the spit over the fire. Josephine was glad she was in the former group and the worst she had to contend with was Fili's shoulder digging into her ribs and Thorin's knee in her back.

"Let's just sit on 'em and squash 'em into jelly!" William suggested.

Bert had a better idea. "They should be sautéed and grilled with a sprinkle of sage."

Behind her Thorin mumbled so they wouldn't hear. "Was this part of your plan as well?"

"Do you really want to do this now?" She hissed.

Fili shifted, pressing his shoulder even deeper into her gut as he turned to look up at her. "Terribly sorry, lady Josephine. You shouldn't have gotten caught up in this."

Josephine sighed and dropped her head back as Bilbo started to buy for time. "Valar give me patience. It's the least you can do."

"Well, have you smelt them? You're gonna need something stronger than sage before you plate this lot up!" Bilbo explained.

"Load of rubbish!" William scoffed. "I've eaten plenty o' dwarf, boots, skin, and even armor still on. They go down just fine, even raw!"

Josephine frowned, feeling very very certain they'd just skipped a whole chunk of dialog. Was somebody upping the difficulty now? What was going on? "Oh sure, but what about the parasites?" She hollered. "The whole lots' infected."

"What?" Tom said warily, eyeing the dwarves he was rotating on the spit.

"Run in with some bad boar you see." Bilbo added. "Nasty business. We should have known better, it was quite sickly looking now that I think back on it.'

Fili opened his mouth to protest and Josephine jabbed her elbow through the back and nudged him hard. "Don't you dare."

"I don't have-"

She grimaced, elbowing Fili again. "I was sick for damn near a week after that meal."

"That one's got the worst of them too." Bilbo added with a nod to her. "I wouldn't risk it with any of them though, I really wouldn't."

"What would you have us do then? Let 'em all go?" William asked.

Bilbo grimaced and shrugged. "Well…"

"You think I don't know what you're up to. This little ferret is taking us for fools!"

"Ferret?" Bilbo squeaked.

"Fools?" Burt spat.

Then a booming voice interrupted the squabble and Josephine gave a sigh of relief. Gandalf appeared behind the trolls, hat outlined by the slight tinge of morning.

"The dawn will take you all!"

William spoke first. "Who's that?"

Then Burt. "No idea."

And last of all, Tom. "Can we eat him too?"

Gandalf brought his staff down and the boulder cracked in two, letting in a bright stream of sunlight. The trolls scrabbled and knocked into each other as their skin started to harden. Within seconds they were stone and Gandalf was untying their bags.

Free, Josephine collected her sword and knife, fastening her belt as she wandered into the circle of trolls. Those faces she remembered, snarling in pain and anger. Gently she ran a finger around the back of Tom's ear, where eighty years in the future a bird would make its nest.

"A most unusual ornament for a live troll, indeed, Aragorn." She sighed. "Oh Josephine, I'm glad you didn't know then that you'd end up back here one day."

>>><<<

Aragorn stood bent over the table in his study while Gimli grumbled and mumbled and set markers on the map laid out in front of them. A map leading from the Shire to as far east as the Lonely Mountain.

"My father never could quite remember where they encountered the trolls." Gimli explained.

"That is of no worry." Aragorn said. "For she has been there once before and I remember the glade well." He took up a charcoal pencil and continued a long line marking her possible path through the troll's glade. "She would have been expecting the capture." He said, straightening up again to look over their progress. "Perhaps she went with Gandalf instead, that day."

Gimli scoffed. "Are we speakin' of the same lass? Let somethin' that dangerous go on without keepin' a keen eye on it?"

Aragorn returned a wry smile and sighed. "No, I suppose she wouldn't."

"She's not the same woman she was last time she was in that glade, Aragorn." He said sternly. "Gandalf said she made it to the Battle of the Five Armies. Don't bother yourself worryin' over a few trolls. Besides," He added with a jab of his finger towards the edge of the Misty Mountains. "According to my father's story, she'll be safe in Rivendell in less than two days."

Safe in Rivendell, the thought gave him comfort. He knew they hadn't stayed long, but he hoped in that time it had brought her comfort. Eighty years ago the valley's magic was perhaps even stronger than it had been when she'd first been there, it would do her well.

Then Aragorn paused, staring at the valley drawn on the map. Where he too, had walked its paths some eighty years prior. He'd been but a child, fascinated by a party of visiting dwarves he was not allowed to meet. It hadn't been the first party or the last to stay in Elrond's halls while Aragorn had grown and the memory had long ago faded in his mind.

But she'd been there, all those years ago, and now he remembered. Dunland was not, as he'd once thought, their first meeting.

Chapter Text

If during the War of the Ring she'd felt akin to a lost duckling, now she felt more like the mother of thirteen ducklings, trudging along behind them while they looked for the treasures of the trolls' hoard.

The smell hit them before they could see it and they followed their noses until the dark maw of the cave showed itself around the bend. Bofur, Gloin, and Nori followed Gandalf and Thorin inside while Dwalin hung back. She stayed well outside with the others, watching them poke around the fringes of a couple of piles of refuse outside.

All Josephine needed to do was make sure they came out with two swords and Sting, other than that her work there was done. Done, at least to the point of waiting worriedly for shit to hit the fan again and hear wargs on the horizon.

"Lady Josephine?" Kili asked over his shoulder. "Are you alright?"

She snapped out of her musings and took stock of how her arm was resting around her middle, unconsciously covering what sore spots would probably form into some nasty bruises from being squeezed back in the glade. Trying to seem as nonchalant as possible she dropped her arm and nodded. "Can't stand the smell."

If Kili wanted to ask anything else, he ran out of time as the group came back out of the cave.

"Bilbo." Gandalf said. "Here, this is about your size."

Josephine watched from afar as Sting was passed into Bilbo's hands and they spoke quietly while Gandalf tried to convince him to keep it.

Then Thorin stiffened. "Something's coming!"

"Stay together!" Gandalf called. "Hurry now! Arm yourself!"

The dwarves rushed towards the sound, pulling out their swords and buffering her as they passed. She didn't hear wargs yet so this was something else. What was it again? God, it had been so much longer since she'd seen the Hobbit movies than when she'd been doing this before with the Rings trilogy.

If it wasn't wargs then it wasn't probably dangerous and horrible, but she pulled out her sword anyway and nodded to Bilbo as he came up to her with Sting drawn and a nervous expression.

"Just stick close to me, we'll look after each other." She told him confidently as they slipped into the rest of the group.

The rustling sound got louder and they all braced themselves for what ended up being absolutely nothing to worry about. Then she remembered, it was just Radagast.

"Thieves! Fire! Murder!" He yelled as he pulled his sled to a stop in the midst of them all.

"Radagast!" Gandalf sighed in relief, sheathing his sword. "It's Radagast the Brown! What on earth are you doing here?"

"I was looking for you Gandalf, something's wrong. Something's terribly wrong!"

"Yes…?" Gandalf said slowly.

It was then that Radagast seemed to realize he was surrounded by dwarves. "Well…well perhaps we should speak of it…with a little less…"

Gandalf harrumphed and motioned for Radagast to follow him a little ways away. She wasn't invited, but she wasn't…not invited either, so she followed. She needed all the background information she could get to fill in the gaps in her memory.

Gandalf lit his pipe and the dwarves milled around, napping and searching for food around the rocks even though they knew they wouldn't find anything.

With a moment to collect himself after his arrival, Radagast began his story, glancing briefly at her but not saying anything when Gandalf gave little notice of her being there. "The Greenwood is sick, Gandalf. A darkness has fallen over it. Nothing grows anymore, at least nothing good. The air is foul with decay. But worse are the webs."

"Webs? What do you mean?" Gandalf prodded.

Josephine didn't need to be reminded of those. She'd been glad enough in hindsight to not have needed to follow Frodo and Sam through Shelob's lair. Now she was sure Mirkwood was going to be worse.

"Spiders, Gandalf. Giant ones. Some kind of spawn of Ungoliant, or I am not a wizard. I followed their trail. They came from Dol Guldur."

At that, Gandalf turned slowly to look back at Radagast. "Dol Guldur? But the old fortress is abandoned."

"No, Gandalf, it is not. A dark power dwells there…such as I have never felt before. It is the shadow of an ancient horror. One that can summon the spirits…of the dead."

His eyes glazed over in fear and Josephine knew exactly what he was talking about. She still heard their screams in her nightmares and the memory of that cold, instinctive fear had never left her even after all this time.

"I saw him, Gandalf. From out of the darkness…a Necromancer has come." He fell silent for several moments, eyes unfocused and distant. Then suddenly he snapped back. "Sorry."

"Try a little Old Toby." Gandalf offered, wiping the end of his pipe off with his beard and offering it to Radagast. "It'll help settle your nerves. In and out."

As the smoke slipped out from between Radagast's lips Gandalf continued gently.

"Now, the Necromancer. Are you sure?'

Looking him square in the eye, Radagast pulled a weapon from his coat wrapped in a skin that Gandalf quickly unwrapped the hilt of.

"That is not from the world of the living."

The calm and sturdy expression Gandalf had shown the whole time fell suddenly and he looked from the hilt, to Radagast, and then finally to her. She couldn't mask her familiarity with what they were talking about, or the realization that she also knew what that blade meant. It was the same blade that would sink into Frodo's shoulder one day.

"Josephine, I would very much value your input on this, if you are free to-"

But he couldn't finish his request and she jumped as a howl cut through the forest. By the time they reached the others, they'd cut down two massive wargs who lay dead at their feet.

"Warg scouts! Which means an orc pack is not far behind!" Thorin growled.

"Orc pack?" Bilbo said with a leaning towards annoyance even more than fear.

"Who did you tell about your quest, beyond your kin?" Gandalf pressed Thorin.

"No one." He answered.

"Who did you tell?!"

"No one. I swear! Perhaps we should be asking our Seer who she may have told instead! What in Durin's name is going on?"

"Wait, hold on!" She snapped. "How did we go back to NOT trusting me!"

"Well, the trolls probably didn't help much." Nori mumbled.

"I'm not the reason you're being hunted and we don't have time to argue about it either!"

"She's right." Dwalin interrupted. "We have to get out of here.

"We can't!" Ori added, running down from where he'd been watching them. "We have no ponies. They bolted!

"I'll draw them off." Radagast said confidently.

"These are Gundabad wargs, they will outrun you!"

"These are Rhosgobel rabbits! I'd like to see them try."

So, with howls filling the trees, Radagast took off through the brush, his voice echoing in the distance as he drew the hunting party away. The Company traveled in a long line following Gandalf's lead into the rocky outcroppings in the higher areas of the Trollshaws. They would run one way, then skid to a halt as a stream of wargs passed the ridge above them. Then they'd turn and head another way. It seemed random enough, except Josephine had a sneaking suspicion it wasn't entirely out of Gandalf's hands. It wasn't like they would just stumble upon the secret pathway on their own.

Thorin had the same suspicion. "Where are you leading us?" He asked as they paused to allow another part of the hunting party pass.

Gandalf didn't answer, and neither did Josephine.

Her ribs were burning but they paused just enough to give her a chance to breathe. She was lucky her time in Gondor hadn't been idle and she'd kept up with exercise enough that she wasn't entirely out of shape for this kind of thing.

They pressed back against another outcropping, squeezing themselves as far into the stone as possible as they heard a warg on the stone above them and the sound of a sword coming out of its sheath.

Thorin nodded to Kili to draw his bow and Dwalin pressed his arm back over her chest, keeping her securely away from view. Kili stepped away and fired, hitting the warg in the chest. By the time the warg and the orc riding it hit the ground in front of them, the fletching of a second arrow was sticking out of the orc's chest, but not deep enough to kill it.

Dwalin and Bifur jumped forward and hacked at it as it screamed.

"Move!" Gandalf yelled. "Run!"

The gig was up, they were found out. They ran, but it wasn't long before they were flanked.

"We're surrounded!" Fili yelled.

But Josephine had her eyes on Gandalf and he had his eyes on a particular boulder just behind them. "Please tell me this is the passageway we've been looking for?" She hissed as she followed him towards it.

"If I'm wrong, then we've got quite the fight on our hands."

They reached the edge and found the steep passage down into the darkness. No time to waste, Gandalf slid into it. "Call the others!"

She poked her head back up over the rocks and yelled. "Let's go, boys! Double time!"

They ran for her and she popped back up onto the grass, drawing her sword as they funneled down into the tunnel. Thorin took up a place on the other side of the passage and yelled for Kili who was still shooting down the orcs he could reach. But he had enough time and distance that he made it well ahead of any of the wargs and he followed Fili down. Then Thorin took her by the collar and shoved her, sliding down last of all.

The dwarves all looked up to the opening with worry and confusion as a different horn rang through the valley, an elvish horn. A dead orc rolled down to join them, but that was all. And then suddenly it was silent.

"Elves." Thorin said unhappily as he inspected the arrowhead that had downed their orc friend.

"I cannot see where the pathway leads! Do we follow it or not?" Dwalin yelled.

Bofur was already pushing through the others to get ahead. "We follow it of course!"

"I think that would be wise." Gandalf said smugly.

Josephine took a deep breath and sheathed her sword. "Finally."

The pathway was tight, and only a sliver of sky was visible among them. They went through in single file, she was just ahead of Bilbo and Gandalf, and the dwarves behind them kept lagging here and there to help Bombur get through the tighter spots.

"Gandalf? Where are we?" Bilbo asked.

"You can feel it-"

"Yes. It feels like…well like magic."

Josephine paused, taking in the same thing he was feeling, the same pure light and tingled at the edge of her mind. "It is magic, Bilbo." She closed her eyes and breathed it in, feeling altogether relieved to know it's peace again.

"There's light ahead!" Dawlin's gruff tone exclaimed, interrupting them.

They filed out of the tunnel past a small waterfall and onto a ledge, and there it was.

Josephine stepped through the group right up to the edge, unsure now if she were still with the dwarves, or back in her own time because both looked exactly the same. They were high up along the walls of the valley, above the thick trees, and could see every house and path from their height.

"The Valley of Imladris." Gandalf said proudly. "In the common tongue, it's known by another name."

"Rivendell." Bilbo answered in a daze.

"Here lies the last homely house, east of the sea."

Behind them Gandalf and Thorin argued but she didn't pay any attention. It wasn't like they could turn back now so it didn't matter how grumpy Thorin was about it. And besides, she couldn't move her eyes off of the valley if she tried.

Of all the places she'd been so far, none of them were as familiar as Rivendell. And none of them held as much memory. The thought was bittersweet and it jogged her out of her vigil.

"Come on, it's this way." She turned away from the view and made for the pathway down. This wasn't the first time she had walked it.

>>><<<

November 3018

Aragorn was thorough in his teachings and didn't hold her riding lessons just to the wide and well kept paths of Rivendell. Would the winding path up into the hill probably been easier and less nerve wracking on foot? Josephine was sure of it, but she knew Aragorn had done this purposefully to get her used to riding in places that were a bit more precarious.

Even still, even being on the sure footing of an elvish horse and following someone she trusted as much as Aragorn, the path made Josehpine nervous.

He glanced back at her from time to time, especially when they passed a point a bit more narrow than the rest, and every time she offered him a tight smile she hoped didn't totally smash his confidence in her. Then he returned the smile in a surety that she was doing just fine and Josephine found her nerves soothed, at least a little.

Eventually their climb paused in a small grassy clearing and Aragorn dismounted and turned his horse loose to graze. He offered her his hand to help her down and she tried not to pay much mind to his other hand as his fingers brushed against her back when her feet hit the ground.

She looked back at the way they came and laughed nervously at the steep, curving journey. "So we're going to lead them back down on foot…right?"

Aragorn smiled and shook his head.

"Right?" She winced.

"You need not fear, these horses will carry us safely wherever we may go. But come, we are not yet where I wish to take you."

Leaving their horses behind to enjoy their snack, the two of them continued on into a path cut into the mountainside. It was tight, too tight to bring the horses and Aragorn took it purposefully slow.

Josephine stepped carefully around loose rocks, keeping her eyes glued to her feet until they reached a wider area where Aragorn paused, ushering her up past him. With a hand on her arm he led her to the edge of a small pool that fell off into the air below them and then she realized why they'd come.

"You can see the whole valley from here." She gasped.

"Yes, and there," He pointed to the very end. "Where the Bruinen flows down into the Trollshaws."

The water was silver and gold in the afternoon sun which was burning through the gap in the mountains that surrounded the valley. "The sunset from here must be amazing." Part of her hoped they would stay long enough for her to see it, and the other part…well she wasn't too fond of the idea of riding back down in the dark.

"Indeed." He sat down and propped his arms up on his knees. "I came here often as a child."

She followed his lead and sat down next to him, crossing her legs and dipping her fingers into the cold pool by her knee. "Running away from your studies I'd guess?" He smiled and nodded and she chuckled. "Come on, we all did it. I mean I only had an attic to go sneak into and not an entire valley but still. For me it was my math homework. Stupid, right? The architect that hated math growing up." She paused when she caught him out of the corner of her eye."What?"

He was watching her with a smile. "I like to hear you speak of your home."

Josephine smirked and looked down at her hands. "It's not really all that interesting."

"I find it so. But I know it causes you grief to think of it and I do not wish that upon you."

Josephine didn't know what to say and wondered if it was weird to thank him for his sentiment and tact or better just to let it hang in the air. He seemed to pick up on her indecisiveness and took up the conversation again, turning it back towards something lighter.

"I most disliked learning to write Tengwar. I would come here to hide from my tutor."

"Who was your tutor?"

"Lord Elrond." Aragorn answered with an amused glint in his eye. "He can be quite intimidating to a child."

"It's the eyebrows." Josephine answered decisively. "Everyone thinks so."

Aragorn's laugh rang off of the ledge and out across the trees and Josephine decided she could handle a ride down in the dark if this was how they'd get to spend the afternoon.

Chapter Text

Josephine tried to let the power of Rivendell ease her worries but there were some things even that couldn't touch. With Gandalf in the lead they trailed over the bridge two by two with the dwarves looking around curiously behind them. They spread out over the courtyard and Josephine looked up at Gandalf.

"Now that we're here, I need to speak with you and Lord Elrond privately. And soon."

The peace on Gandalf's face fell and he leaned in to speak quietly. "On the dangers ahead?"

"In a way, but more like I'm making preparations for my past."

With a firm nod he pursed his lips. "Very well. I will see to it."

"Mithrandir." A familiar voice called as Lindir descended the stairs to them. The unchanging faces of the elves didn't help her nostalgia fade any.

"Ah! Lindir!" Gandalf said happily.

Behind them, the dwarves muttered to themselves and side eyed the exchange as Lindir slipped into Sindarin.

"I must speak with Lord Elrond." Gandalf answered gravely.

"My Lord Elrond is not here." Lindir answered.

Josephine looked up over her shoulder towards the path behind them, awaiting the arrival of the hunting party and drawing several sets of eyes from the dwarves towards the same place.

"Not here? Where is he?" Asked Gandalf.

Then the same horn that had called over the Trollshaws echoed through the valley and the horses appeared around the bend.

Thorin yelled in Khuzdul and then in the common tongue for the benefit of her and Bilbo.

"Close ranks!"

Two hands grasped her shoulders and shoved her into the center of the party where she smacked into Bilbo. They were jostled and shoved as the horses circled them and Josephine caught Gandalf's eye through the fray with a tired frown. All she wanted was a hot meal, a change of clothes, and a soft bed for the night.

"Gandalf!" Elrond greeted with a smile.

"Lord Elrond." Gandalf smiled back and began greeting him in Sindarin.

Josephine elbowed the nearest dwarf in her way and shoved until she was back at Gandalf's side. Her Sindarin lessons were ongoing, but she knew enough between that and her memory that the two were talking about the warg hunting party.

"Strange for orcs to come so close to our borders. Something or someone has drawn them near." Elrond said pointedly.

"Ah, that may have been us." Gandalf confirmed as she reached him.

Elrond took his first full look at her and the party behind her and Josephine dipped her head. "Mae govannen, Lord Elrond. Josephine i eneth nin."

"Mae govannen." He answered curiously, then turned to greet the company. "Welcome, Thorin, son of Thrain."

"I do not believe we have met." Thorin essentially spat back.

"You have your grandfather's bearing. I knew Thror, when he ruled under the mountain."

"Indeed? He made no mention of you."

Deep healing breaths, Josephine told herself. The dwarves were just like that sometimes. Deep healing breaths. Fighting the urge to intervene was not going well for her and if Thorin had any further snide comments to add to the exchange, she wasn't sure she would've been able to stop herself.

Elrond, naturally, didn't rise to any of it but did slip back into Sindarin, assumedly just to annoy them.

Gloin, naturally took offense. "What is he saying? Does he offer us insult?"

"Oh for the love of god, Gloin!" She snapped before she could stop herself, having intended not to say it out loud. "He's offering you all food."

The dwarves went into a huddle and discussed amongst themselves for a moment and then Gloin nodded. "Well, in that case, lead on."

They fell in behind Lindir but she lingered behind with Gandalf and Elrond, making it clear she had other business more akin to theirs than the dwarves.

"I would come to expect such strange company to be held by you, Gandalf. But a lady of Gondor who has chosen to follow Thorin and his kin…it brings strange tidings."

"Stranger still, you'll find her tale and tidings once you hear them." Gandalf confirmed.

"And by your tone, it seems such a tale should not wait. Come."

>>><<<

Once again she found herself passing through the door of Elrond's study and accepting as he poured her and Gandalf each a goblet of wine. Gandalf said nothing, seeming to be quite sure he should stay to the side until asked in case his level of knowledge of her would be deemed different than Lord Elrond's.

"Now, I have little notion of what to ask given that I have no notion of why you are here." Elrond began, doing little more than to remove his sword belt and breastplate. "So perhaps it would be best if one of you should begin.

This she'd give more thought to than her first conversation with Gandalf. There wasn't much time, but there was time enough to chose her words more carefully.

"I'm a Seer." She started simply. "And I'll give you a simplified version of things and we can go from there. The Valar brought me to Middle-Earth from my home several years ago. In my land, Middle-Earth is a story that I was very, very familiar with. I arrived in Middle-Earth suspiciously well timed and became part of a quest that had enormous ramifications for the future of Middle-Earth."

She then paused as Elrond looked like he had something to say.

"Odd that no such lore exists of your kind, Lady Josephine. And of such a quest I would wonder of which you would speak?"

The suspicion was clear so it was time to start tiptoeing further. "This is where things get…convoluted and weird. Trust me I think it's kind of bullshit too. The year I will arrive in Middle-Earth is the year 3018 of the third age. I'll be found in the wilds of Dunland and travel here where I'll stay for several months before I leave on a quest that I can't speak any further about. Then after some time had passed I found myself in the Shire the day before Thorin's Company was set to leave. The connotations of the timing were obvious."

Elrond's eyes narrowed and he looked to Gandalf. "Surely you have found some reason without doubt for such an outlandish claim or you would not appear to believe her."

"Not as much reason as I would like, but she speaks of things she should have no way of knowing and for that I cannot help but listen. But I will admit there are questions I have yet to have answered."

"And of what things should she have no knowledge of?" Elrond prodded, pinning her with a firm gaze.

Josephine didn't want to say any of it, but she didn't know what else about Elrond and Rivendell couldn't be known by people of the right education and travel. The words felt like glass in her throat but it was also a very convincing backup to her story. Aragorn would have agreed.

"You're sheltering Isildur's heir here. You call him Estel and he doesn't know his true name for his own safety. He also has a habit of running off when it's time for his Tengwar lessons with you."

Elrond's face turned to stone and he hid his surprise but she knew she'd caught him off guard. Gandalf too, had frozen.

"Gilraen came here with him after Arathorn was killed in the north when…when Aragorn was very young."

She could see Gandalf out of the corner of her eye, putting the pieces together. Her claims to status in Gondor, her knowledge of Estel, and the date she'd given for her true arrival in Middle-Earth fit together all too well.

With a flick Elrond glanced back over the stars on her vambraces and she took a sip of her wine, hand trembling, to try and collect herself.

"If such a thing were true-" Elrond said, trying to cover things up.

"Don't take my telling you that as some kind of blackmail, I'm just trying to make my case so I can protect my past and your future."

"That information is dangerous to hold." Gandalf admitted gravely.

Josephine looked him in the eye. "And you'll believe me when I say I'll give my life before I speak of it to anyone else."

Some of the tension in his shoulders relaxed and he nodded, backing down. "Yes, I do believe that."

Clearing his throat, Elrond poured himself a goblet of wine and paced to the railing. "So, Lady Seer. You come bearing a tale from our future, and yet you walk with us now. Why is that? If you are here to join in this quest with Thorin, why would the Valar treat time in such a strange way?"

"Other than the fact that I was a blubbering, terrified, totally untrained woman who barely lasted two days in the wilds when I got to Middle-Earth? I never would've joined this quest back then, ever. But they have leverage against me now, I don't want anything more than I want to get back to the time they took me from. I'll go on this quest and try to save the people who aren't supposed to make it and fix anything that strays dangerously off the path of the story and I have the skills to do that now." Whether that had been the Valar's plan all along, or if it had simply been something as basic as her abilities, she'd probably never know.

"If you were so resistant to such things at your arrival, what drove you on the quest of which you will not speak?"

Josephine smiled wryly, finally admitting to herself why things had been the way they were in Rivendell before. "Your counsel, and Gandalf's. You impressed upon me the convenience of the timing of my arrival, how we shouldn't ignore the will of the Valar. In hindsight…" Preparations had to be made. She had to make sure it all went as she remembered. "If you don't believe me, if you don't do anything else in regards to this, please just remember what I'm about to say."

She set the wine aside and pressed her hands together. "When we meet again, eighty years from now, I won't know you beyond knowing you from the stories. You can't let on that you've met me before, no one can. When the time comes for the quest you'll know it, it'll be obvious. And it's imperative I go on that quest no matter how much resistance I give you. You have to convince me to go and you can't breathe a word of my existence now to anyone, even me, until…" Until what? Until she got back? Until so much time had passed that it was clear to them she was never coming home? Until she disappeared from Gondor and they could report that she'd died trying to complete the quest?

"Until you return to your time, in our future." Elrond finished for her.

Josephine was the harbinger of her own fate during the War…just not in the way she'd realized.

"You should also be aware, Lord Elrond…" Gandalf began. "That there will be far reaching consequences to the future of Gondor if she does not return."

"That's enough, Gandalf!" She snapped. Not everyone needed confirmation about her standing, especially not a wise elven lord who could put a lot more pieces together with a lot less hinting.

She could already see the pieces falling into place behind Elrond's eyes.

"Indeed, of that I can surmise. I would like some time to think on these things further, but it will have to wait until after the evening meal. Is there anything else you wish to make known before we retire?"

"Are Galadriel and Saruman on their way here?"

Surprise becoming less and less common as she spoke, Elrond nodded. "They should arrive within a week or two."

"Galadriel can know I'm here and who I am, but Saruman absolutely can't." The trick was to not let on that it was because he was already dipping his toes into evil. "When I meet him in the future it has to be for the first time."

"Very well. But if your presence is to be so closely guarded from our future, then what do you intend to do with your dwarven friends? They may hold their own secrets close, but yours would be harder for them to keep."

She sighed, already tired just from thinking about all the work she'd have to do for that one. "That's gonna be a whole different, much more difficult conversation."

Chapter Text

From Elrond's study she was met by the same elven woman from her last arrival and taken to the same set of quarters she'd had before. It felt familiar like everything else, but in a much more comforting way. In eighty years she'd lay in that same bed and let its soft linens wrap around her while she burrowed into the pillows, trying to find comfort from the fear of her future. If she'd known how much she would find by the end of the War, the love and security of building her life with Aragorn, would it have eased the worry, she wondered?

Josephine walked out onto the balcony and looked over Rivendell as the sun started sinking towards the late afternoon. The day wasn't over yet, and the basin of steaming water and dress laid over the foot of the bed reminded her she'd need to wait until later to reminisce.

She washed quickly and slipped into the pale golden dress she'd been left with, opting to go to dinner with wet hair since her other option was just combing the dust out of it but having it still smell faintly like troll.

There was no one waiting to show her to dinner, Elrond seeming to take her confession of having been to Rivendell before to heart had not sent a guide. He and Gandalf and the dwarves were already there when she arrived at the pavilion. The dwarves were arranged at two long low tables but a smaller round table that sat four was off to the right with Elrond, Gandalf, Thorin, and an empty chair presumably for her.

As she passed the dwarves' tables she heard Kili mumble to Fili with a jab of his elbow. "Hey Fili, look at that! Didn't know Lady Josephine could look so…"

"Aye." Balin interrupted from the end of the other table, leaning over to get Kili's attention. "She's a lady, and you'd best show her the respect she deserves."

Josephine ignored their banter, knowing she still had a lot of reputation to build with Elrond and this dinner would be a part of it. She sat down as her chair was pulled out for her and reached right away for her silverware to dig into the food being laid on her plate. She was ravenous.

"Ah!" Gandalf said, having gotten into a bit of his food already and wiped his mouth with a napkin. "I was hoping you might recognize some of the weapons we arrived with." He motioned to his sword leaning against the table next to him, and Thorin's which was the same at his side.

Elrond nodded and reached first for Thorin's drawing it slightly from its sheath. His mouth opened to name it but Josephine jumped in, deciding a few more notches in the proverbial bedpost of foreknowledge wouldn't hurt.

"That's Orcrist, the Goblin Cleaver. Forged by the High Elves of the West." She said, reaching for her goblet.

All three heads turned to face her and Elrond's eyebrow rose. Slowly he handed Orcrist back to Thorin and took up Gandalf's sword, pulling it slightly from the sheath the same as Orcrist but not saying anything. He just looked up at her expectantly.

"Glamdring, the Foe Hammer. It was the King of Gondolin's. They were for the Goblin Wars of the First Age, right?"

"It would seem you do not need my services after all, Gandalf." Elrond looked a bit amused and handed Gandalf back the blade. "How did you come by these?"

"We found them in a troll hoard on the Great East Road, shorty before we were ambushed by orcs."

"And what were you doing on the Great East Road?" Elrond said very pointedly to Gandalf.

Thorin squirmed and tossed his napkin onto the table. "Excuse me."

Josephine dug into a second helping of salad as he left and sighed to herself.

"Thirteen dwarves, a halfling, and a seer. Strange traveling companions, Gandalf."

"They're noble, decent folk. And they're surprisingly cultured. They've got a deep love of the arts."

"A deep love of something." Josephine muttered. "Pretty sure it's ale."

And then Bofur jumped up, leapt onto the same pedestal the Ring would sit on one day, and began to sing. "Thereeeeee's an inn, there's an inn, there's a merry old inn…"

Food went flying, cheers erupted, and the dwarves began to sing along. Josephine pressed her lips together and tried to keep a straight face as Lindir was almost smacked right in the face with a handful of sweet porridge and bits of it bounced off the statue behind him and into his hair.

Lettuce rained down like confetti and the song went on until several of the elves who had been playing their instruments, left the pavilion to escape the rain of dinner.

The dwarves were the first to arrive at dinner, and looked like they'd be the last to leave as Josephine, Gandalf, and Elrond finished eating. It was still early evening but everyone seemed too tired to sit around talking for very long and nobody retired to the Hall of Fire that night.

She slipped off alone to go back to her room and hide for awhile, she'd earned that much since the Shire. After she'd changed into a fresh pair of breeches and a soft blue shirt, an elf came by and offered to bring her a tray of tea which she gladly accepted and when there was a knock on her door a while later she assumed that was who it was. But when she opened it, it was Lord Elrond.

"Had a chance to think about things and now you have more questions?" She asked, tired but trying to sound open to answering them.

"I feel you have spent long enough this day, explaining yourself to others. However it was overheard from one of your companions that you have been favoring your side since your run in with the trolls."

It drew her attention to the smooth wooden box under his arm and she nodded. "I thought they hadn't noticed. Who snitched?"

"I believe Dwalin was bringing it to Thorin's attention."

"Should've known, he's always got at least one eye on me." Stepping aside she let him in and closed the door. It would've been much easier to just let things heal up on their own, she'd have long enough in Rivendell to let them. But if Aragorn had been there…really been there, he wouldn't have let her. In his absence he'd be glad to know Elrond was seeing to things.

He set the box on the table and opened it, revealing several small jars and rolls of white cloth. "Gandalf wishes to say very little of your journey up till now, and even less of where you're headed, but perhaps you will tell me at least how you became injured?"

She sat down on the bench at the end of her bed. "He's toeing the line between his agenda, staying on Thorin's good side, and getting what we need from you."

"And just what is it that Thorin's Company would need from me?" He said with a raised eyebrow, sitting down next to her.

"I'll let Gandalf decide when he wants to bring that up, sometimes it's more important I just stay out of the way while things happen."

Elrond nodded understandingly and let down his light attempt at getting any more information. To show his surrender he smiled. "So, these trolls you encountered?"

"Picked me up and gave me a good squeeze, then tied me up in a bag and tossed me into a pile of dwarves. Ribs smart a bit but they're definitely not broken."

He seemed amused by her retelling and motioned to her shirt. "May I?"

Josephine drew the hem up and balled the fabric up against her sternum so he could see the lower part of her ribcage which was slightly mottled.

"Bruised, but not badly." He confirmed. "And not broken. You were quite lucky." He turned around and took a jar from the box, spreading a cold salve over the bruises.

Lucky that Thorin didn't hesitate when Bert started tightening his grip. Another couple seconds and she definitely would've had broken ribs back in the glade. "Yeah, I seem to get that sentiment a lot after I get hurt."

Elrond continued in silence, seeming to take his original comment on her having answered enough questions to heart. He finished with the salve and wrapped one of the rolls of cloth around her ribs, then set the jar and a second roll on the table like he meant to leave them for her. A thought seemed to be caught behind his teeth and as he closed the lid he turned back to her.

"The boy." He said gingerly. "I will not ask of his fate, per say. But I do wish, perhaps selfishly, to ask one thing. In your time, will you know him?"

Josephine looked up at him, seeing the expression of a father more than a lord. Foster father, maybe, but someone who cared none the less. Someone who worried about the future of a child whose bloodline alone put him in great danger. A danger that meant he might not make it to the years she'd talked about.

And for her, the pain was still too fresh to hide in her eyes as they burned, so she had to answer. "I know him."

She didn't say more, and he didn't seem to need more from her than that. He looked relieved, and smiled for a moment to himself.

"You have granted me a gift, Lady Josephine." He tucked the box under his arm and laid his free hand softly on her shoulder. "And I hope your time here will grant you comfort from your sorrows."

The door shut softly behind him and she stepped back out onto the balcony, tilting her head back to look up at the stars.

>>><<<

Aragorn couldn't sleep, once again. Every time he closed his eyes he dreamed of her, of her face and her laugh, or if the night was particularly unkind, of her surrounded in darkness. He tracked each day to the path Gimli had laid out for him. His mind brought him back to that day he'd seen her on her balcony in Rivendell and how calm she had looked, gazing over the valley.

Wandering out to the balcony of their bedchamber he laid his hands on the railing and looked up into the black night sky with a sigh.

"Long ago you looked upon these same stars and perhaps you thought of me as I do you." He said quietly, wanting to believe they would pass his message back to her through the years that stood between them. "I hope they watched over you, and that their beauty brought you peace in such dark times."

He couldn't bear to go back inside, not yet, not to their bed that sat empty without her in it. So he laid back on their settee that they so often shared and let the sky draw his eyes into the vastness of it.

Another day could not pass in his halls where he simply sat and waited. If Gandalf was right, she would be gone for months still. Aragorn needed to move, to see for himself the place she'd last stood. Tomorrow, he would depart for Ithilien.

Chapter Text

Under those stars, with the sound of crickets and the rush of the river in the background, Josephine cried into her soft linens until her head hurt and her ribs ached. The last time she'd been in Rivendell she'd had nothing but support and understanding, and the friendship of four Hobbits and Aragorn to make her feel less alone.

But something she'd also learned back then, was how to get back up after a night like that. She pressed a cool, damp cloth to her eyes as the birds chirped in the morning sun, dressed, and left her room like nothing had happened.

She'd have until midsummer's day to rest and prepare for the rest of the journey, which included leaving behind many of the things she'd brought with her from Gondor. Gathering her vambraces and greaves she tucked them under her arm and headed to the armorer.

The sound of the falls was louder than she remembered as she passed the entrance to the smith's cavern and found an elven man bent over a table and a cut of leather. He didn't look up as she approached but he did notice her.

"What services may I do for you, my lady?" He said with a voice as clear and strong as a summer sun.

"There's a long road ahead of me, and my armor tells too much of a story." She took it and laid it out on an open portion of his table and watched as he set his tools aside.

"A design I have not seen since Isildur's age." He held one of her vambraces up to see it closer. "Well cared for, I might even guess it was new if I did not know better."

"I don't want to leave it behind, but it makes people ask too many questions. It's not safe to bring along."

"Yes." He agreed, setting it back down. "Then you wish for no heraldry?'

"None. Just something light and sturdy that you could have done within a couple of weeks." Was he the same armorer who made what she'd worn on the quest, she wondered?

"I will see it done."

She moved on from the armorer and requested new traveling clothes, pack, and supplies. With the errands out of the way, Josephine didn't have anything else to do but wander. There were no woodcraft, sparring, or riding lessons in her day and the boisterous sounds coming from the dwarves' house made her keep her distance.

In better days she might feel like joining them and making a ruckus but she couldn't bring herself to put up the energy for it. On top of that, she was too afraid to wander far along the paths of the valley knowing she might run into more than just the elves.

Josephine had decided she didn't want to see him, couldn't bear to see him. Not only would it hurt too much, but how would she explain herself to Gilraen if they crossed paths? Just sit there with the woman who would have been her mother-in-law if she hadn't passed years before the War and pretend to just be some random traveler?

But Rivendell was only so big, and Josephine was terrified there wouldn't be any avoiding it unless she spent every moment in her room. She looked over her shoulder the whole time she made her way through the valley, ears listening for footsteps or the sound of a child so she could hide before they saw her.

By the afternoon she retreated to her room, took dinner there, and didn't leave again until the next day just for want of some security from the anxiety of it.

>>><<<

May 3020

Aragorn didn't know what had woken him up first. Was it her side of the bed empty and cool to the touch, or the knocking coming at the door of their cabin as their ship sailed down the Anduin towards Belfalas?

He rolled out of bed, pulling at the hem of his shirt tiredly to straighten it and opened the door to come face to face with Halbarad.

"What is it?" He said, not too concerned since Halbarad didn't seem particularly hurried.

"If she asks, I did not wake you. But I don't think her majesty is taking well to the voyage."

The rougher waters of the lower Anduin coupled with the winter runoff from the mountains quickening its pace had made for a choppy voyage since they left Pelargir. Perhaps he shouldn't have been surprised. Aragorn went back into the cabin and pulled on a fresh tunic, buttoning it up as Halbarad leaned against the doorframe.

"She did not wish me to fetch you but Ciril wouldn't have it." Halbarad added with a tired shake of his head. "It seems she believes she can tough it out without you noticing."

"So despite her sea sickness she is otherwise unchanged?" Aragorn agreed with a hint of amusement in his tone.

"Indeed." Halbarad chuckled.

The two made their way up to the deck with Halbarad in the lead, stepping to the side once they caught sight of her at the stern of the ship. There Halbarad stayed behind and Aragorn stepped his way up to her as she leaned against the railing.

He placed his hand on her back and leaned over to see her face. She smiled at him tensely, as if it would hide the paleness of her face and the sheen on her forehead.

"Good morning."

He frowned, touched his hand to her face, and returned it to her back. "Yes, but it is clear you are not having one."

"I'm fine, don't worry!" She said with obviously fake enthusiasm that dissipated suddenly and she turned her head to look back out at the river behind them with a frown.

"You are seasick, meleth nin."

"No I'm not. Gondorians are a sea faring people, we don't get seasick."

He shook his head with a tired smile. "Gondorians near the sea, perhaps."

She groaned. "I thought I'd like ships."

"It will pass, you need only give yourself time to become accustomed to it." He assured her.

Underneath their feet the ship passed through a particularly rough spot and she gripped the railing with white knuckles and pinched her eyes shut.

He hated to see her so ill, especially when she'd been so excited about the voyage. Nearly a year since their wedding, it had been a long awaited journey.

After a few moments she collected herself again. "Some honeymoon this is turning out to be."

Behind them someone cleared their throat and Aragorn looked to see Halbarad motioning with his head towards Ciril who was holding a tray of tea and light fare next to a bench where a suspiciously large number of cushions had been arranged. Josephine's lady's maid moved so silently and anticipated their needs so quickly he often wondered if his wife was not the only one in their midst to tell the future.

"Come, rest for a time." He urged, taking one of her hands in his and resting the other arm around her waist as she let him lead her down to the bench.

"I don't wanna puke in front of the men."

"They will understand."

"I fought with some of them during the war, I'll lose my cool points." She laid down and sighed as he pressed a cold cloth to her forehead.

"I do not think those can be revoked by being ill." He sat on the edge beside her legs and leaned down to press a kiss to her cheek. "Now rest."

Her fingers played with the hem of his sleeve and drew over his hand lazily. "Tell me a story?"

Aragorn smiled at her request. A pastime that never seemed to grow old. There were always more tales to tell and many that were favorites to tell again and again. That in mind, he already knew what she'd like to hear, and began one she was already familiar with. Enough to take her mind off the rolling waters, but familiar enough that if sleep called to her, she wouldn't fight it.

>>><<<

Present Day

Halbarad led Aragorn through the ruins effortlessly, seeming to know every step and rock and bush they passed to the point of almost ignoring their presence. Aragorn looked around the old walls and arches as they passed, thinking to himself how excited Josephine must have been to see so much of it standing.

He rued the day she rode from the city and he did not follow, as if he could have done anything to stop the continuation of her path. His bitterness towards the Valar was something he tried to bury, to let go of. If she was gone, he knew in his heart it was because she was needed, but surely they could have found another way. If nothing else, they could have sent him with her.

"It was here." Halarad's voice interrupted his thoughts.

The old ranger pointed to the ground in front of him, empty and storiless. Even her tracks were gone, washed away by several rainstorms since that day.

Aragorn paced the area, still hoping somewhat in vain to find a hidden passage or clue that perhaps she could've slipped away, gotten lost in the wilds maybe? Anything but moving closer and closer, day by day, to the fiery maw of Smaug as Gandalf and Legolas told him.

"There is no passage." Halbarad assured him. "I scoured these ruins myself and the Rangers of Ithilien know them better than anyone else."

Kneeling at the spot Halbarad had motioned to, Aragorn drew his fingers over the soil. He could see her there in his mind, standing just as she'd looked when she left Minas Tirith. "I do not doubt you, Halbarad. The Valar's will in this is beyond our control."

"I was near, they should have taken me as well." He said angrily.

Standing, Aragorn grasped his shoulder firmly. "If they had, it would bring me much comfort. But do not place blame on yourself, my friend."

"Then why do you come here, Aragorn?" Halbarad pressed. "To look upon an empty ruin that shows no sign of her presence?"

Why had he, except to spend his time waiting, looking for signs that he knew weren't there? "Perhaps I had to see it myself, to know in my heart there is nothing I can do to help her." And it tore him to shreds to know that. He had no way to reach the past, except through the faded memories of a young child who knew not to whom he'd spoken.

He could only place his hope in her and Gandalf, and a company of dwarves to keep her safe. And to return her back to him, he had to place his trust in those that had taken her from him.

"Aragorn?"

"A day will come when I pass from this world and I may in that time come before the Valar." Anger welled in his chest and he stepped over to an ivy framed window overlooking the Anduin. "If she is lost to this task, it will not be I, asking forgiveness from them for my wrongdoings. It will be they who must beg mine."

Chapter Text

A fist pounded at the door of Josephine's quarters, startling her out of the pages of the book she'd hurriedly grabbed from the library the day before. A mist hung over the lower portions of the valley as the moon rose and the fist pounded at the door again.

"Josephine!" Bilbo's voice called sternly. "I know you're in there so open the door this instant!"

Moving to get up and setting the book aside she was making for the door when he pounded on it a third time.

"Josephine! Don't make me come in there after you, because I-"

She pulled the door open and found him standing there with his finger raised to reprimand her.

"-will." He finished, deflating and lowering his arm. "There you are."

She'd been a bit worried something was going wrong, or one of the dwarves was causing more trouble than was expected, but he ended up smiling at her and she nervously smiled back. "Where's the fire?" She asked.

"What?"

"Nothing." She stepped aside and opened the door wider. "Do you want to come in and tell me why you were throwing a fit?"

"No, I will not come in. You, will come, out." He punctuated with pointing towards the ground beside him. "And I was not having a fit, I was trying to interrupt your moping."

"I'm not moping, I'm reading." She argued, motioning to the book laying pages down on the cushion of her chair.

"Reading can be done in places other than your quarters. Places with sunshine and company and…and…gardens."

"My room is quiet. It's perfect for reading." And the valley had at least two people she was too afraid to see.

"Well you've been in here for nearly three days by my count and I've had quite enough of it. Now Lord Elrond told me your wounds were quiet superficial so you should have had plenty of time to rest from them by now-"

"How do you know about that?"

"Are you daft?" He blinked at her and crossed his arms. "The entire Company knows. You think every single one of them isn't constantly looking out for you? One lady surrounded by warriors ordered by their leader to protect her? Or are you so blinded by your grief that you haven't noticed?"

She hadn't, not really. Well, she'd noticed Dwalin and Thorin maybe, but hadn't really taken into account anyone else's actions beyond the usual Middle-Earth chivalry.

With a sigh she admitted, "It's easier to stay here."

"Easier does not mean better." He scolded her gently. "Sitting in there moping certainly won't make you feel better and if I can be so bold to say, I don't think your husband would want you to hide away like this either."

She was hesitant to say too much about Aragorn to Bilbo, the two would become good friends one day, so she didn't say anything. Nothing about how many memories Rivendell carried with it, not a breath about the two members of her family walking its halls.

"So, I hear there is something around called the Hall of Fire and it sounds like just the thing you need to get out of that head of yours." He stepped back to give her space to leave and waved her towards him. "So come on then, we'd best be off."

"You're not taking no for an answer, are you?" She said with a wry smile.

He smiled back. "I'll stand here all night if I have to."

>>><<<

There was a fuller nature to the hall when they entered than she'd seen before. There were more elves and the atmosphere had a much lighter feel to it. Years before the growing darkness really took shape, and before so many of the elves had gone into the west.

Bilbo took the lead and found them a bench that seemed purposefully chosen for its proximity to the musicians and center hearth, the furthest from a corner to mope in he could find.

She sat down and he disappeared, slipping into the crowd that was heavy with flowing robes and gowns. Josephine scanned the room, taking in how unchanged it was. Her eyes glanced over Elrond up on his dais and he nodded welcomingly to her.

Then Bilbo was back, pressing one of two goblets of wine into her hand and setting a small cake in the other. Elves greeted him with familiarity as they saw him and she looked at him as he sat there next to her with his legs swinging.

"You've already been here." He'd 'heard' about the Hall of Fire indeed.

"Yes well, so have you, technically. Now drink up, the dwarves will get here eventually and I have little doubt they plan on trying to cheer you up again."

"And by cheer me up you mean another dance party?" Would that really be so bad? Sure, she felt grumpy enough, but she missed the drinking songs and the dancing she used to do with Merry and Pippin. Maybe Bilbo was right, maybe part of trying to avoid her kin was being used as an excuse to check out completely. And if there was one thing she shouldn't have been doing, it was checking out.

"It worked last time." Bilbo shrugged with a smile.

A glass…or two of wine later, the cupbearer refilled hers and Bilbo's goblets as they laughed and she tried to sing the verse again. "Fi fo fiddle fiddle fi flow fliddle-Dammit! Why is it like this?"

"The tongue twister is half of the fun!" Bilbo explained.

Boisterous laughter broke through the hall, drawing everyone's eyes. The dwarves had arrived in a very, as expected, tipsy fashion.

"There she is!" Fili cried happily, raising the glass he already had in his hand in a toast. "Our lady has returned to us from her long exile!"

"It's been like…two days." She mumbled to Bilbo.

Kili swaggered over to her in a very Jack Sparrow reminiscent sort of way and dropped to his knees at her feet. "My lady! I beg forgiveness on behalf of the Company, for whatever slight we have committed against you that has caused you to forgo our…company."

A laugh crackled in the back of her throat as she took in the slight slur in his words and the rosiness of his cheeks. "You're drunk."

"Very." He said with solemn seriousness. "Will you not forgive us?"

Gloin stepped up and hauled Kili back to his feet. "Quite y'er grovelin'! If the lass was angry with you she'd damn well tell you so."

"Now," Bofur said, looking at least a little more sober than Kili. "Has Bilbo been teachin' you those songs like we asked?"

She narrowed her eyes at Bilbo who shrugged innocently. "I keep stumbling over the ending."

"Good enough!" Bofur yelled and grabbed her by the hand, dragging her towards the nearest table.

Like he had back during the feast the day they arrived in Rivendell, he broke into the first line of the song, stepping first onto the bench and then shoving things aside with the toe of his boot to get onto the tabletop. Hand still clasped around hers he pulled her up beside him while the elves hurriedly cleared away the dishes around them.

This time the dwarves had brought their instruments and fell in as Bofur sang, waving his hand in a circle to goad her into joining him, which she did. From their bench Bilbo clapped along as she and Bofur bounced off each other, drank from their goblets, and broke for a dance while Fili and Kili took over with their fiddles.

"Upsides go west. Hey! Broadsides went boom! With a batter and a clatter you can shatter every platter but the moon slept till Sterrenday!"

They drew out the last word, holding hands between them with their goblets in their free hands while the dwarves cheered. Josephine looked around, a grin having found a way to stick on her face making her feel more like herself than she had in weeks. From her spot higher up she was able to look out around the room, happy to see that at least in the Hall of Fire, the dwarves and their entertainment was a lot more welcome than during dinner.

As she turned she felt eyes on her and it wasn't from the crowd around them. Light eyes met hers across the room and she came to the sudden and uncomfortable realization that the woman who was watching her wasn't one of the elves. Her dark hair was drawn back and set with a circlet of silver leaves and she smiled at Josephine warmly. The smile of someone who had just found one of their kin in a foreign place.

Josephine looked away nervously, landing on Elrond who was watching the interaction closely and with a great deal of interest. But she couldn't help herself and she looked back, swallowing a hard lump in her throat as she took in that she was seeing Gilraen for the first time.

Something swelled in her chest, not quite grief and not quite fear. Josephine didn't know what to make of it but it caught her and held her still just long enough for the others to notice.

"Lass, is everything alright?" Bofur asked quietly.

"I think…um…" Finally she tore her gaze away and turned her back to Gilraen. "Maybe I've had enough wine for the night. I think I'll just…go to bed."

"Right." Bofur said, brows knit with concern and maybe a little worry that she was about to hurl. "Why don't ya let Fili here see you back to y'er room. And I'll take this." He plucked the goblet from her hand and nodded towards Fili who was at the foot of the table with his hand out for her to take.

Josephine knew it wasn't the wine making her head swim, she'd had enough for a good time but also enough for a long time. She waved off the three other sets of hands that reached out to help her off the table, masking as much of stress shooting through her body as she could as her feet hit the stone floor.

Fili followed on her heels as she hurriedly made for the door and the cool fresh air outside. She didn't pause until she rounded the corner out of sight of the doors and the flight hadn't made her feel much better. She braced her arm against the archway she'd stopped under and leaned her forehead against it, breathing slowly and deeply.

Fili touched her shoulder lightly. "Just take it slow now, the wine these elves serve could knock a troll on its ass."

She'd let them all keep thinking it was the wine, that made things easier. Though maybe if she'd been fully sober, the shock of it wouldn't have hit her so hard, everything was spinning and she just wanted it to stop.

"No kidding." She croaked.

"Let's get you back to your room so you can sleep it off, come on." He wrapped a heavy arm around her waist and drew her down the path. "We really did miss you, you know."

Josephine couldn't get Gilraen's face out of her head, the gentleness of a smile and a presence she'd never known but somehow missed now that she'd seen even just that small glimpse of it. A part of her new family she'd never thought she'd see beyond a stone statue marking a grave that Josephine had stumbled on one day a long time ago.

"You missed grumpy old me?" She replied distantly.

"Don't be so surprised, you're not the only grumpy one around here. Have you met my uncle? He's certainly more grumpy than you are and we miss him when he's away."

Had she been in the hall the entire time, hidden by the crowd until Josephine was on the table? Had the two of them been that close to each other without her noticing? Had Elrond been waiting to see her reaction when she did?

She stumbled over a dip in the path. Whether it was her preoccupation or the wine she wasn't sure.

"Easy there." Fili tightened his grip on her and took her hand in his, slowing his pace. "Don't rush, I've got you."

"Thanks." She said, patting his hand. "Helluva wine."

"Ah! I wouldn't worry Lady Josephine. You battle trolls, a little elven wine won't keep you down for long."

He got her back to her room and she let go of him at the door. In typical, elven fashion, her needs were already accounted for and a tray of steaming tea sat on her side table with a few slices of toast. Fili closed her door and presumably went back to the party while she sipped at the tea and nibbled at the toast, sitting on the edge of her bed limply.

In the quiet of her room her head started to clear and she managed to change into her shift and step out onto her balcony to see the moon dipped towards the horizon. She pulled her legs up onto the bench and laid her arms and cheek on the balcony railing. The wind blew across her face, bringing the scent of the trees.

"I saw your mom today." She said in almost a whisper, feeling kind of foolish to be talking to Aragorn when he was so far away. "And I miss you."

Chapter Text

"What right do they have!" Boromir bellowed across Aragorn's study.

In the month and a half since she'd been gone, Aragorn had pressed Gandalf for answers, begged Legolas for counsel, and hung onto every word of Gimli's as he told him the story of the quest for the Lonely Mountain as Gloin had passed it along. Letters had been dispatched to Rivendell and Erebor, a plea for information, and one to southern Gondor where Boromir had been, staying for a time with his uncle in Dol Amroth.

Still wearing his mud stained clothes from travel he paced, taking in the full explanation from Aragorn. "She served her duty, what more could they dare want from her?"

"Of that, we can only guess until she returns to tell us herself."

"Then you believe Legolas and Mithrandir's hope of her return at the battle's end? When they won't breathe a word of her part in their tale?"

"Should I not? Their silence was only bidden by Josephine and I will not forsake my faith in her." He understood Boromir's frustrations and need for further answers, but his patience for it was thin when he had to battle such fears on his own part. "Do you doubt the wisdom of her charge of secrecy?"

Boromir sighed, looking towards the window and pressing his fist to his lips. "No. I dare not."

Aragorn watched from the cold hearth as Boromir walked to the warm sunlight and stared out through the glass. For a moment his shoulders shook and he covered his face with his hand, then he sniffed and turned back around to look at Aragorn with red, glassy eyes.

"She…I taught her as best I could."

"She lived through the War, fighting at our side because of that." He said, to both himself and to Boromir.

His mind was clearly racing as he thought about it. "But…but she still drops her elbow when-"

"Boromir…"

Stilling, Boromir looked at him, a tear rolling down his cheek. "Yes, you are right. We cannot dismay when there is still hope..." He squared his shoulders and nodded. "She will return to us come November and tell of her adventures and we will think how foolish we must have been to doubt her return."

Clasping his shoulder Aragorn took a deep breath. "Indeed, my friend. We must have patience, and hope."

>>><<<

Josephine had wormed Aragorn's lesson times out of Lindir so she could come to the library and be sure he wouldn't be there. She would've been reckless not to utilize the maps held in Elrond's possession and besides, Bilbo was right. She had been moping, and moping wasn't going to do anyone any good, least of all her.

The path they would take through the Misty Mountains was jagged and twisting. She wondered where along that they'd run into the cave outside of Goblin town. She wasn't sure what she was looking forward to the least, Goblin Town or the spiders in Mirkwood. Hilariously enough, Smaug was the least of her problems at the moment.

She'd made a few requests from the craftsmen in Rivendell in preparation for their capture, she only hoped that would do enough to disguise her among the dwarves and, if at all possible, hide Aragorn's knife for when they were disarmed. Josephine hadn't felt prepared necessarily for the war either, but there were a lot less situations of being captured and imprisoned then too. Thinking over things while she poured over the maps strewn across the table in the library, she was beginning to feel like repeated capturing was all that was going to happen to them.

"Down down down in Goblin Town…" She muttered to herself bitterly.

She could avoid it almost entirely, staying back with Gandalf…but the Ring…if Bilbo didn't get the Ring then fuck the entire future. After the change that happened with the trolls, she was hesitant to take her eyes off something so important. If she wasn't there and something was different like he ended up staying with the group, not falling into Gollum's tunnels…It would make destroying the Ring nearly impossible even if it were ever found in their lifetimes.

No, she had to go into Goblin Town and just hope the rumors were embellished.

Balancing her elbows on the table she let her hands support her head and let out a deep breath. "Okay, Josephine, focus. Goblins don't torture people. They're really very nice. Hospitable. They sing you songs and everything." She lied to herself sarcastically. "You squared up with Uruk-Hai and fought in the Last Battle, you can manage a night in Goblin Town." She just needed to stay low and keep hidden and let the dwarves do their protective huddling thing. Best case scenario it all went to plan and they'd be out and Bilbo would have the Ring and she could focus on other things.

Other things, like paying attention to the soft voice that cleared her throat behind her.

Josephine froze, slowly straightening back up.

"I hope I do not disturb you, Lady Seer."

She had to admit to herself, there was a part of her that was glad she'd been caught. The same part that had been sad when she thought she'd never know Gilraen in any form aside from Aragorn's memories of her. It was like a thread stretched between them in the fabric of the story that Josephine yearned to follow. Distance was still the safest option for all of them, but clearly the fates had other plans…or maybe Josephine had let herself become reckless. Regardless, what was done was done. Gilraen had found her, and she couldn't pretend otherwise.

Turning around she faced Aragorn's mother in earnest and tried to hide the heart pounding anxiety of knowing she'd have to lie to her.

"Lord Elrond will speak little of you when I ask, but the elves whisper that you know our futures. That its because you are from a time that has not yet come." She seemed curious but wary, unsure of what to make of Josephine, which was well enough since Josephine wasn't sure what to make of Gilraen.

"Whether I do or not, I can't really talk about it." Josephine tried to shut down a request about Aragorn's future before it came.

"So Lord Elrond told me, but I had to know for myself."

The tension between them showed in both their faces and Gilraen didn't seem too pleased with it. She took a few steps towards Josephine and smiled softly, a tilt to her lips that felt painfully familiar. "That was not the sole reason I came to find you. It has been many years since I've seen or spoken to another daughter of Men. You can imagine given your traveling companions, I'm sure, that it carries some degree of loneliness."

Josephine scoffed quietly and nodded. Gilraen had been there for what…seven years by that point? With no company but the company of elves? They were good company, but not relatable company.

In her slow responses, Gilraen looked disappointed and took a step back. "Forgive me, I am disturbing you after all."

"No-" Josephine said suddenly, before her better judgment could stop her. "I'm sorry. I've just been preoccupied." The best thing would have been to let Gilraen go, they likely wouldn't speak or even see each other again and things would be secured for the future. But Josephine was curious too, and didn't want to give up this chance.

The invitation given, Gilraen looked relieved and came over to the table to look at what she'd been working on.

"A great journey must lie ahead of you." She said when she took in the multiple maps and scrolls. "So it is as the elves say, you make for Erebor?"

It struck Josephine that she and Gilraen were probably very close in age, a peer more than the ghost of her husband's mother. "Don't tell Thorin his super secret mission isn't all that secret here." She said with a smirk. Secret keeping wasn't easy to do with a bunch of keen eared immortals around.

"I will speak of it to no one, you have my word." Gilraen chuckled and lifted the edge of one of the maps to peer at the one below it. "They seem to be a…lively company with which to travel. Are they also as stubborn as the elves say?"

"Stubborn. Quick tempered." Josephine nodded with a sigh. "But some days they're the only reason I crack a smile so I can't be too hard on them. But god damn they're exhausting, it's like traveling with a whole crew of Bor-" She cut herself off with a cough. "Of a friend of mine, like a brother and just as annoying." That had come out too easily, she had to be careful.

"I have no brothers of which to miss, but my father and mother are far from here and my heart aches for their absence."

Dirhael and Ivorwen, still living as far as any of them knew.

"But this is no surprise, I'm certain," She continued. "for I am no stranger to you."

"What?" Josephine bit her tongue and played dumb.

"Why else would you fear me?" She said it gently, without anger or judgment, but she was sure of what she was saying.

"I'm not afraid of you." Josephine scrambled, lying through her teeth.

"I knew from the moment you saw me in the Hall of Fire. I even brought my concerns to Lord Elrond and he assured me you bear no ill will."

Josephine hated that Gilraen had to worry about her. "You're one of the last people I'd ever want to put in danger."

"And my heart tells me to trust you." She stepped forward, closing the space between them, and laid her hand against Josephine's cheek. "I can see that I have upset you, so I will take my leave."

Before Josephine could react to the small, comforting gesture, Gilraen stepped away again and spoke one last time.

"Should you wish for the company of a friend before you depart, I would welcome it."

And with that, Gilraen left, waiting for no answer. Josephine braced her hands against the table and leaned back against it. She'd taken into account the elves, the dwarves, Bilbo…but not Gilraen seeing right through her. She was the mother of a king, a son who's blood alone put him in danger. Of course she wouldn't leave it alone when her gut told her something was going on, Josephine knew she wouldn't if put in the same position. Her eyes would be just as scrutinizing when it came to people who might present a danger to her own children someday.

She thought about Gilraen's offer, unable to help but consider it. Was it a risk, a danger to be near her…or was it a gift? Josephine wanted to talk to her, know her.

She hated her duty to keep secrets and had been glad to be rid of it at the end of the War. As she stood there she found herself imagining bearing some of those secrets to Gilraen, telling her how Josephine knew so well who she was and why. Confessing that they were family and being embraced as a daughter instead of a stranger.

But no matter how much she wanted to, no matter how strong the draw towards Gilraen felt, Josephine was too afraid to tempt fate. She couldn't reach out to Gilraen, and she wouldn't.

Chapter Text

When she'd asked Lord Elrond for a private location to meet with the Company that she could be sure was kept away from by the elves for a bit, she hadn't expected to be shown to the pavilion where the White Council would be held. But, given that it was high up on the edge of the valley and Lindir had been instructed to practically stand guard at the base of the path up, she supposed it was a comfortably safe fit.

The dwarves, for all their shenanigans, were punctual and there when she arrived. They were sitting in a half circle of chairs around the edge of the pavilion, the table in the center way too small to hold thirteen dwarves, Bilbo, and then Gandalf who parked himself by the entryway.

"What's all this about then?" Ori asked when she stepped up to the table.

"Exactly." Bofur added. "Awful lot of ceremony when ye could just talk to us anywhere."

Thorin cleared his throat. "Perhaps she has come to share some of her wisdom. Isn't that what you lot of have been complaining about for weeks?" He looked around from the center of the chairs in a clear command to shut up so she could talk.

Josephine appreciated his order, if they got going she'd have to fight to get a word in edgewise and she'd be exhausted before she even got to the important parts. She gave it a couple of seconds to make sure everyone was ready to follow through with the quiet before clearing her throat and starting.

"So you all know I'm from the future and you all know I know what's going to happen on this quest. Correct?" Of course they did, but she figured the best way to keep them all on track was to start from the very beginning and move forward from there.

Nods went around the room and she went on.

"And given that you're all dwarves, or wizards, or hobbits, depending on how far in the future I'm from, you may still be around when I am in my time. And since that's technically my past, I won't know any of you personally yet, despite the fact that you know me."

"So you want us to explain how we know you then?" Oin filled in.

"Literally the last thing I want any of you to do, that's why we're here. If any of you ever meet me again in the future, you tell me absolutely fucking nothing." Gloin sure kept quiet when he met her, but she appreciated that it didn't stop him from befriending her a second time either.

Bombur looked surprised. "You want us to pretend you're a stranger because otherwise we'd be telling you your future?"

"Exactly." Gold star for Bombur. "But it's gonna be a little more encompassing than that." She put her hands on the stone table. "When this is all over, whatever happens to me or…wherever I end up, every single one of you has to do something."

Bilbo leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. "What do we have to do?"

"Erase me from the story. I was never here, never a part of any of this. If you write down accounts of what happened or tell people about it, leave me and anything to do with me, out."

"But you should be remembered for your deeds just like the rest of us!" Kili said.

"And if word of those deeds get back to past me and it tips me off that something weird is going on?" Beyond the weird stuff that already went one. "I know I can't stop up every hole, I can't swear everyone we meet into silence. But the accounts that all of you will tell from this quest, will set the narrative. Everything else is just…"

"Rumors that will fade with time." Thorin finished. "And those we can deny when we hear them. Few will dispute us if we tell them you were simply that. A rumor."

Ten gold stars for Thorin. "Look, I don't know what could happen if I found out I was a part of this quest before I arrived in the Shire, but that's not a risk I'm going to take. On top of that if the wrong people caught wind of me before certain events I could end up dead or worse." That was why she had to meet Saruman for the first time at Orthanc. Why the most that could ever reach Barad-dur was some vague lore about a seer a long time ago who disappeared.

"We will guard your secret as closely as if it were our own." Thorin promised her with a firm gaze that made it impossible for her to not trust his words.

"Now, on a more specific note, if Elrond within the next century ever calls a council, the only member of this Company who goes is Gloin and he'll bring Gimli with him."

"Mah wee lad?" Gloin asked with his brows pushed together.

"I don't care if Elrond calls for anyone else here, you don't show up and whoever's in charge makes sure Gloin comes."

"Does that mean I'll see ye again for that council?"

"If we're lucky and we don't fuck this all up, yes." She crossed her arms and looked around at them all. "The moral of the story is this: I never existed and anyone who says I did is either wrong or it wasn't actually me they're talking about. Only Gloin comes to that council out of all the dwarves here, and he says absolutely nothing about this quest or anyone involved in it or anything about Erebor." Rumors of a seer were fine, it had given her hope of answers and everyone had made it vague enough that she had no reason to think she was involved. "Are we all clear on this?"

The Company nodded in agreement and relief came over Josephine. That had been significantly easier than she'd expected, strangely enough. She had a feeling Thorin might have had something to do with that.

She glanced over her shoulder at Gandalf who nodded, like he was agreeing that it seemed to have gone well.

"Well, all right then." She shrugged. "I guess we're done here. Back to deconstructing Rivendell's furniture for campfires I guess."

There was a scrape of chair legs on the stone as the heavy dwarves got up and Nori hefted his above his head to take with him, probably to do exactly what she'd been half joking about.

They all filed out and down the path including Bilbo and Gandalf, but Thorin stayed behind and waited until everyone was out of earshot.

"And if you manage to save my nephews, I presume you cannot know they still live?"

"Them…Or you."

He didn't seem surprised by her admission of his own potential death. She imagined that with the risk of the quest he was already wondering if he'd survive it. But he had to know if he was still there and became King under the Mountain, that too had to be kept secret from her.

She hadn't heard either way from anyone during the War. With everything going on, Erebor was far away and dealing with its own battles. Once it was all over, marriage congratulations had come from many of the leaders in Middle-Earth along with gifts and well wishes, but she'd been so overwhelmed, she couldn't remember reading many of them herself. Hell, the necklace she'd worn on her wedding day had been a gift from the king of Erebor but she'd just assumed it was from Dain because why wouldn't she have? Could it have actually come from Thorin or one of his nephews?

"I will see it done."

>>><<<

Josephine knew she shouldn't leave a trace behind, it was just asking for trouble, but if she didn't return to Gondor…She knew she could entrust Lord Elrond with seeing that a letter was delivered to Gondor when it was clear she wasn't coming back.

She'd sat on her balcony for hours with a quill in hand, trying to understand how to write a goodbye letter without breaking her own heart in the process. How did she pour onto the page how much she loved him and thought about him, how she was doing everything she could to return but if he was reading her words, it hadn't been enough? How did she bear to write the words that would tell him to let her go when she didn't believe she could survive moving on from him?

Pages littered the floor around her as she scratched out sentences and wiped at her eyes, hoping all the pain she was going through now would be for naught at the end, and that the next time her letter was opened, it was by her with Aragorn at her side.

A soft knock interrupted her and she jumped, trying to straighten up the pages and cursing how red and puffy her eyes probably looked. Cautiously opening the door she found Ori waiting outside looking somewhat nervous.

"Scuse' me, Lady Josephine, I'm sorry to disturb. But I was thinkin' on what you said at the council about erasing you from the story and…well I'd already started recording you in it so I wanted you to know I'm going to redo it so you don't worry."

The Company's self appointed scribe, he'd follow Balin to Moria and record the words that had haunted her for months before entering the halls. Drums. Drums in the deep. She swallowed the lump forming in her throat as she imagined his future and turned her mind back to the young Ori in front of her.

"Thank you, I know that's got to be a lot of work."

"Won't be so bad, not since we're all here restin' anyway. I took the pages out, thought you might like to destroy them yer'self."

He handed her six or so crinkled pages of text written in Khuzdul, unreadable for her but she appreciated that he wanted her to have them.

"Also, one other thing for ye."

He handed her another page, this time with a sketch on it like the one of Bilbo he'd have in the Red Book when he wrote There and Back Again. Except this sketch wasn't of Bilbo, it was of her.

"I want to do one of everyone in the company." Ori continued.

"You should." She smiled, looking down at the page and thinking he'd managed to make her look a lot cooler than she probably was, all geared up and ready to fight orcs. "Thank you for this."

"Y'er quite welcome, Lady Josephine. I'll let you go back to things."

He left in a hurry and she closed the door, still looking over the pages of text and the sketch. They should get destroyed, really. But she couldn't bear it, to burn Ori's records and drawing just in case. There would be one place where it might be safe to keep it, and maybe it would bring Aragorn comfort, if the worst did happen.

Eventually she finished her letter, signing her name at the bottom of the several pages she'd spent saying her goodbyes. She folded the parchment gently, not minding the tear or two that fell on the corner and smudged one of the words as she did. Then, with the sketch and Ori's accounts, she placed all of it in an oilskin and tied it shut.

Josephine found Elrond in his study and she held the oilskin out to him. "Will you hide this and keep it safe?"

He took it, not opening it, but being curious. "For how long should I do so?"

"Until I come back from this quest, or until…" Her throat clenched. "Until you're sure I won't."

"And if that time comes, what actions would you like me to take?" He spoke quietly, with a soft expression that made her feel like he already had an idea.

Her voice cracked and her chest felt like it was full of rocks. "Will you make sure he gets it?" Elrond had already figured it out, he knew who she was talking about, she was sure of it.

Catching her off guard, he cupped her chin in his hand. "I will bring it to Aragorn myself. You have my word, Josephine." He used his thumb to wipe away a tear that rolled down her cheek and smiled. "But I very much hope that it will not be necessary."

Chapter Text

Josephine burst into Aragorn's study and shut the door behind her, interrupting the work that was spread out all over his desk. He looked up at her, more amused at her entrance than anything.

"I'm going to lose my goddamn mind." She told him as she crossed the room to stare out the window. "Honestly, if I have to listen to one more dwarf try to explain counterweights to me-" She stopped herself and took a deep breath. "I know they've been building things at least as long as I've been alive but I'm not exactly a hobbyist either. I did go to school for this."

Josephine allowed herself one more huff of annoyance before putting her hands on her hips and turning back to Aragorn, who was still at his desk and just watching her with a bemused smile.

"What?"

He got up and joined her, slipping an arm around her waist and bringing them back to looking out the window, the fields of Pelennor rippling through the wavy glass. "I enjoy your passion for such things. I know with that and the expertise of our guests from Erebor we will have a fine gate for our city."

Josephine laid her head against his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. She knew the War was over, more definitively than anyone did, but not having a proper gate to the city made her nervous all the same. "Not soon enough for my taste."

Aragorn frowned and glanced down at her but she avoided it. "And not because of the dwarves it would seem." He pulled away and hooked his finger under her chin to draw her eye. "Why does the gate trouble you so?"

Things had been good, and getting better and better as time passed. They were falling into a routine and enjoying being newly wed, there was no reason to dwell on the War. But she did. She couldn't help herself. Pelennor would sometimes turn black in her mind, writhing like it was covered in insects while balls of flame fell from the sky. She could still feel the roads shake beneath her feet and smell black orc blood on her hands, but that made her no different than anyone who'd been in Minas Tirith during the siege.

"I know the Rammas is repaired, and the temporary door is secure enough in case of an emergency. I think I'll just feel better when we can close off the city with mithril instead of bare wood."

Aragorn looked at her sympathetically and brushed her cheek with his hand. "We are safe here, and you have said yourself that if battle does eventually come to our walls again, it will not be for a very long time.

"I know, I do. It's just…" Nothing that she could ever manage to hide from him so why was she trying? "The battles are still too fresh in my mind, I can't quite shut it off. It's been months, sometimes when I wake up I swear I can still hear the Nazgul circling the city." She confessed.

Worried but not necessarily surprised, Aragorn led her to his chair and knelt in front of her with his hands covering hers.

"I just want to move on. The War is over, it's been over."

"That matters not. Josephine, meleth nin, your heart will heal in its own time, you cannot force it."

She wanted to believe him, but it didn't feel like that was the case, if anything it seemed like it had gotten worse since things had calmed down. Of course that was how some people handled stuff like that, wasn't it? Sometimes it was during, sometimes after? Why couldn't it have been during so she could've gotten it all out of the way in one go?

"You fought three near hopeless battles in as many weeks." He rationalized for her and placed his hand flat against her chest, fingers brushing her collarbone. "A wound can also be borne here, and in that there is no shame."

Josephine squeezed her eyes shut and let her head drop, feeling like the warmth of his hand was spreading through her body. "I don't wanna be scared anymore." She whispered, the loudest tone she could manage.

"Josephine, vanimelda del caru." Aragorn got to his feet and pulled her towards him, arms wrapped around her tightly with his hand stroking her hair. "I will do all in my power to make that so.

>>><<<

"Oh come now Josephine, just a little?" Bilbo asked good naturedly, holding two bare branches in his hand while they stood in a small clearing. "It's not like you don't know what you're doing."

Josephine shook her head. "If you want sword lessons I'm sure Dwalin could teach you, and he'd do a much better job than me."

"I don't want lessons from Dwalin, I want lessons from you. If I go to those dwarves and ask them to show me they'll laugh in my face."

"No they won't!" She argued. "And even if they do, coming for training might be the thing that gets them to respect you more. Same thing happened to me once." Well, Boromir hadn't outright laughed in her face but he had definitely been less than enthusiastic about it.

"Or you could just show me a thing or two so I don't accidentally cut my nose off with my sword and we could avoid anyone laughing in anybody's face." He planted the longer of the two branches in the ground in front of him like a walking stick and stared her down.

Josephine couldn't say no to him, she'd begged Boromir to avoid asking the elves and Bilbo was asking her to avoid asking the dwarves. And he was right, she could at least teach him how not to cut his nose off with his sword.

"Okay fine!" She said in mock anger, making a show of flinging her hands in the air and taking the stick from him all while they shared a grin.

Channeling her inner Boromir minus the more annoying bits, Josephine got to work explaining to Bilbo the same things she'd been taught down on the training field. They were at it for over an hour when Bilbo's ears twitched and he looked over at some bushes just down the heavily wooded path from where they stood.

"Everything okay?" She asked him.

"Oh it's fine, we just have a bit of a spy at the moment." He said with a smile and cleared his throat. "Well come on out then, don't be shy."

From the bushes popped a dark head of hair and the small, round face of a ten year old boy and he ran up to them with a giant smile. "Hello Mr. Bilbo!"

"Hello!" Bilbo replied. "Not running from your lessons again, are you? I know your mother will be extremely cross if you are."

Josephine's hand clenched around her makeshift sword and she thought her heart might beat so fast she'd pass out, but she couldn't tear her eyes away. Wind was rushing in her ears and she could barely hear them speaking over it, but all she could do was stand there.

"Ah! Estel, this is my dear friend…" He trailed off like he was about to say her name but thought better of it since the council.

Estel bent stiffly in a bow and said formally. "My lady."

When Bilbo looked at her expecting a response, his face fell. "Are you-"

"Estel!" Gilraen's voice rang out and she came around the corner, pinning the boy with a stiff glare and her hands on her hips. "Lord Erestor has been looking for you for nearly an hour."

"But mother, Mr. Bilbo-"

"Has his own things to attend to, now run along." She held her arm out to the path towards the library and watched Estel shuffled off until he was out of sight. "My apologies Mr. Baggins, Lady Seer."

"Oh, that's quite all right." Bilbo smoothed over, glancing over and over at Josephine from the corner of his eye, drawing Gilraen's attention as well. "Josephine?"

"I have to go." She mumbled, dropping the branch and backing away from them. After several steps she wasn't moving fast enough and turned. She should've hidden it better, running would only make them more curious, but it was the only thing she could think to do. The adrenalin crashing over her like a wave pushed her faster over stone paths and around surprised elves. From one end of the valley to another she ran until she found herself along the grove by the river where she used to swim, hidden away by branches and bushes.

She bent over, hands on her knees, and tried to catch her breath and muffle the sob that bubbled up in her throat. That had been why she didn't want to see him, to know that he was so close but still miles and miles away and see it with her own eyes. To know she couldn't leave so much as a memory of herself that could come to him when they met, in case he followed his curiosity as to why she'd been there.

Footsteps followed her through the grass and she looked up to find herself face to face with Gilraen, who was breathless from running after her. "You looked upon my son with grief." She said with fear in her eyes and a determination for answers. "And you will tell me why!"

Josephine shook her head and straightened back up. "It's not what you think."

"If you know who we are then you know what danger he is in, I ask of no other fate except his own. I only wish to protect him!"

"So do I!" Josephine yelled, overwhelmed with the strain of seeing Estel and having to fight a battle against someone she had no desire to mislead.

Gilraen's voice rose to match her. "Then tell me! I was content to leave you in peace until I saw the way you looked at him. I have already lost my husband to this world, I will not lose my son!"

"You won't lose him!" Josephine gave up. She couldn't bear standing there and arguing with Gilraen, and she didn't want to. Gilraen would spend the rest of her days in Rivendell and so long as she didn't tell Aragorn then…Then maybe nothing would change.

Relief came over Gilraen's face and her shoulders relaxed as a tear made its way down her cheek. "He will not be killed?"

Josephine shook her head. "No." Because she would be there in the river to find him. "He'll live a long life."

Silence fell between them while Gilraen took it all in, finding solace in it just like Lord Elrond had.

Pressing her lips into a tight line, Josephine wiped a shaking hand under her eyes.

And then Gilraen looked at her in a way that made Josephine nervous. Too knowing, too sure of something. "Why then, do you weep for him?"

"Because I miss him." Josephine wanted to hold it together, but she wasn't sure she'd be able to, not after the past several weeks, not with what was ahead of her. "Because I love him." She answered, shrugging as if to say she gave up on hiding it. "We'll have been married for two years on Midsummer's day." A day only two weeks from then, one they'd spend departing from Rivendell to the Misty Mountains.

Gilraen's obvious suspicions were confirmed and she didn't seem entirely surprised. The corners of her mouth curled into a smile that lit up her face and she walked towards Josephine slowly.

Josephine wasn't prepared as Gilraen wrapped her arms around her and drew her tightly into her chest, both their hearts pounding.

"How lucky I am then, that fate has brought you to me." She whispered to Josephine. "And what hope it offers."

Josephine held onto her, too comforted by Gilraen knowing to worry if it was the right thing to tell her or not. It was like a part of her was given a place to rest that was her own, without any kind of reputation or grave silence to uphold.

When they finally pulled away, Gilraen wiped the tears from Josephine's face and then her own. "You must forgive me my joy, I know it's come at great cost to you."

Exhausted, Josephine sat down on the grass facing the river and waited for Gilraen to join her. "If the Valar don't send me back to him after this, I don't know what I'll do." She picked at the grass and looked up at the sky warily, like the Valar were up there judging every action she took.

"It has been eight years, and I still grieve for his father. If that does come to pass, so you will grieve, but you will carry on nonetheless."

Both of them had been taken from the one they loved. The difference was, Josephine still had the hope of seeing Aragorn again. After writing her letter to him, her hope had faded. With everything ahead of them she was afraid she wouldn't even survive, let alone manage to save the sons of Durin, and beyond that be granted a trip back to her Minas Tirith. It seemed like an almost impossible set of tasks.

Gilraen turned to face her and took Josephine's hand, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "The Valar have brought you here to do good things, of that I am certain. I do not believe they would be so cruel as to part you both once your task is complete."

Maybe Gilraen was right, the things that had brought them together during the War were oddly convenient. Their meeting, Arwen's departure, their walk up Cerin Amroth that left her feeling that there was something that tied them together that was beyond their understanding. He said at times that she was written in his story, in the very song of Eru itself to come to him.

"I hope you're right." Josephine said, with a strained, watery smile.

Chapter Text

3020

Nights were the best time, in Josephine's opinion. Once they shut the doors of their bedchamber there were no more duties and they went back to just being Josephine and Aragorn again. Well, barring any disasters, but peace times were treating them kindly in that regard.

Her hair came down and her shift and robe went on. Aragorn threw on his nightshirt and raised his hands above his head to stretch while she ran a brush through her hair, watching him out of the corner of her eye from her seat at her dressing table.

When he noticed, he smirked. "Yes, my lady?"

"Just enjoying the view." She replied cheekily, grinning ear to ear as he stole a kiss as payment.

Reaching down he took the brush from her hands and stepped behind her, running it through her hair slowly. "Every morning I wake and believe you've never been more beautiful, and yet each night I am once again proven wrong." Josephine closed her eyes as he began to braid her hair, his fingers brushing her neck as he worked, tying it tightly at the end.

They slipped into bed and she burrowed into his chest, folding her arms in between them and tucking herself into him completely. "Nobody will miss us tomorrow, let's just spend all day in bed." She joked, voice muffled.

Aragorn chuckled. "And they will certainly not guess where we might be hiding."

"Ciril definitely isn't the kind of woman to make sure we get up and going on time either."

"Our plan is foolproof." Aragorn jokingly agreed.

Several silent moments passed, marking an attempt by them both to go to sleep instead of stay up talking. Their breath evened out and Aragorn said the last words to mark the end of their day.

"Good night, dear Josephine."

"Mm." She sighed. "Goodnight, Aragorn."

But no matter how many quiet seconds passed, Josephine's mind wouldn't calm down. It ran through her to-do list for the next day, her to-do list for the day they'd just had, and then when she tried to derail it into any other subject…it just split off into random things. Which was how she came to break the silence again, rousing him from his dozing.

"You know, one of these days we have to go back out traveling again. Just for shits and giggles." She shifted onto her back and looked over at him.

"...Shits and giggles?" He mumbled, eyes still closed.

"Okay fine, I just wanna see you all tall, dark, sexy, and travel worn again. And maybe, if we stop by Helm's Deep, you can push those doors open again."

"Then I will have to insist you lead a charge of men down to the second level of the city while dressed for battle, for I heard it was a magnificent sight that I'm very sorry to have missed."

"Deal." She took a deep breath and readjusted again. "Sorry, go to sleep."

He kissed her temple and tucked her head under his chin. "Goodnight, meleth nin."

>>><<<

Present Day

Josephine felt like she was reeling from the day as she walked back to her room with dusk quickly approaching. Seeing Aragorn was…strangely enough, not as scary as she'd expected. It was painful, of course, but bearable. Well, she figured it was bearable as long as she didn't run into him again.

She could see parts of the man she would know in his eyes, but he wasn't reminiscent enough of the Aragorn she knew to drive a knife into her gut that wouldn't stop bleeding. The shock had been a lot to handle, but a part of her was glad it had happened so she could stop worrying about it so much. Or maybe it was just being overshadowed by the comfort of being welcomed by Gilraen with open arms.

From ahead, she caught sight of Bilbo hurrying her way, waving to get her attention.

"There you are! I've been worried sick about you." He admonished.

"I'm fine, Bilbo, promise." Only a half lie…she was mostly fine…well, she was okay-ish.

"You ran off looking like you were going to be ill and then Lady Gilraen ran after you and you both disappeared for ages and left me standing there, holding a branch, wondering what in the world just happened."

He had a point that it was all very awkward and abrupt. "Gilraen and I were talking down by the river, I'm sorry."

"No, I don't-" Bilbo huffed and pursed his lips. "I just wanted to know that you were alright, is all. Us odd men out have to stick together, remember?" He finished, cracking a smile.

Josephine shared it and nodded. "Damn right we do."

"So you're sure you're alright?"

"Today? Pretty sure. Tomorrow?" She shrugged jokingly. "Who knows? Wanna go get a drink in the Hall of Fire?"

He stuck his hands in his pocket and gleefully turned back the way he'd come, waiting for her to follow. "I can't think of a better way to finish out the night."

>>><<<

On an armor rack by the door hung the things she'd requested for the journey ahead. The usual light vambraces and greaves, supple elven made boots, and a deceivingly delicate looking tunic. Taking inspiration from Aragorn's days wandering the wild, she opted for an oiled leather coat and hood with an added cloth mask to hopefully hide her in the fray of dwarves when they entered Goblin Town and keep off some of the rain they'd be dealing with in the mountains.

All of this had been inspected carefully by Gilraen when it arrived and made Josephine sad to think about how soon she'd be leaving. Once she left the valley, she'd be saying goodbye to Gilraen for good and it was hard to reconcile how short of a time she'd have. She should've approached Gilraen right away, but despite the very clear reality of time travel in her life, she couldn't go back and change that, so she'd have to let that regret go. Josephine would let it go, because if this was her only time with Gilraen then she'd do her best to take it in unencumbered.

Since the day Josephine had come clean, Gilraen had taken hold of her afternoons, arriving at her door or finding her in the valley with a basket of sewing on her arm. So that afternoon was just like all the others.

Gilraen sat with her on her balcony, a pile of brown fabric on her lap and a needle with red thread in her hand that she pulled through it. It was intricate work as designs appeared along the edge of the fabric and Josephine hadn't a hope in the world of mimicking it on the scrap of fabric she held.

Josephine had sewn a bit back home, just small repairs and the vaguest knowledge of how to use a sewing machine. During the war she'd done a few hasty repairs by hand on her clothes but nothing more. Everything she wore in Minas Tirith came from a true seamstress and the construction of it all baffled her.

Embroidery was a whole different animal, but Gilraen was patient and encouraging. She paused in her own work to inspect Josephine's sampler, offered advice, and went back to her project. There was only so much of Josephine's life they could talk about, and while Josephine enjoyed Gilraen's stories about Aragorn, talking about him took its toll too quickly. So they went back further and Gilraen talked about Arathorn and her life with him in Taurdal, her childhood in the north, and things her mother had imparted on her that Gilraen seemed excited to get to pass along.

The mere handful of years between them seemed to simultaneously draw them closer in friendship and then stretch in length when it came to Gilraen bringing Josephine under her wing in a very motherly sort of way. Josephine was content to nestle under that wing for as long as she could, finding the comfort of it the only thing softening her pain over the uncertainties ahead.

With a summer sun shining down on them, Josephine found the peace of Rivendell she'd been searching for, ignoring the worry that Gilraen might ask of their future together, if they might meet again someday. She'd hardly been young when she'd passed, but Josephine wasn't ready to draw attention to Gilraen's own mortality or bring her the disappointment that she'd die before she'd see Aragorn marry.

It almost seemed like Gilraen was avoiding the subject on purpose, asking questions with an attempt that they be ones that could be answered vaguely. Maybe a part of her guessed that they would never meet in the future and didn't want to know the answer. Maybe she was giving Josephine the grace of not having to tell it was, Josephine was grateful.

Smiling, Gilraen held up the hem of the fabric she'd just finished embroidering. "There. What do you think?"

Josephine's eyes ran over the smooth embroidery, woven to look like loose feathers along the edge. It was reminiscent of the Gonorian's preference to use the image of the wings of seabirds as decoration but clearly separated by time and distance. "It's beautiful. You're really good at this." She doubted she'd ever reach that level of skill, but she'd settle for passable.

"Thank you." She said gratefully, moving the project back to her lap and turning it to begin on the other edge. "I thought I might give it to Estel one day, for when he is older and has need to travel."

Josephine hadn't seen it before, but he would've worn it so long ago that by her time he had likely worn it to shreds. "I think it'll serve him really well."

"Perhaps you should make something for him as well? A token you can bestow to him upon your return." Her hand touched Josephine's knee lightly. "And until then it will keep him close to your heart."

Gilraen never spoke in ifs when it came to Josephine going home, it was always firmly decided that she would and had best prepare for that eventuality.

Josephine looked down at her messy sampler and doubted it would be anything half as nice as what Gilraen was working on, but the idea of making something for him appealed to her hope so she nodded. An idea had already come to mind, simple as it might've been. "I think I know what I could do."

She told Gilraen what she had in mind and she left Josephine on the balcony for a few minutes while she went to get what they'd need. Coming back with her basket she handed Josephine a small cut of pale blue fabric, a charcoal pencil to mark a design, and a spool of gray thread to fill it with. Something small that she could tuck away safely through all the dangers ahead.

Chapter Text

No one had announced it, as far as Josephine had heard, but somehow when she woke up that morning she already knew, she could feel it in the air. The elves of Lorien had arrived, which meant so had Galadriel.

She didn't have hopes for scraps of information about Seers anymore. The wisdom of a Seer in Middle-Earth's past was, clearly, nothing more than the fearful cautionary preparations of her own doing. There were no messages of encouragement left for the future because she'd live it all, regardless. With that in mind, Galadriel's words that had echoed in her mind so many years ago still rang true.

I have met your kind before.

Or as it apparently should've been…I have met you before.

For this reason, Josephine didn't search her out. She would either be summoned when Galadriel willed it, or she'd be found by the Lady herself. No doubt Elrond would tell her about Josephine after she'd given the veiled permission to him that she could know.

Besides, Josephine still felt, despite her station as either Seer or Queen, it wasn't her place to interrupt the Lady Galadriel for what would at best be begging for information she probably didn't have.

But two days before Midsummer's Eve she was summoned, just as she'd anticipated.

With the light of dusk dimming, one of Galadriel's ladies led her to a place by the river, surrounded by trees filled with thick, bright green leaves that turned dark as the moon slipped up over the hills.

The other elf was gone before Josephine had barely stepped into the glade, feeling small and so very, very young in Galadriel's presence. The unchanging vision of the elves was still so hard to get used to and in just a few years, Josephine was sure she'd start to look older than Galadriel and yet, still feel childlike when her shining eyes met Josephine's.

Was the light in the Lady's eyes stronger now than it would be in the future? Or had Josephine merely seen enough of both the light and the dark now to better understand the palpable brilliance that Boromir and Gimli and the others had been so taken by?

"You should not be here." Galadriel spoke, but gently and without accusation. "But at the same moment, you are perhaps more meant to than some."

Josephine was so tired of riddles and elven musings, but she didn't dare cast aside anything Galadriel told her, or interrupt her without a clear inference that she should speak, at least not yet.

"And it seems you and I have met before?" She took Josephine's expression as affirmation and continued. "How very strange the tides of time may seem, and yet…you move amongst them. Pushed like a sail by the will of those whose vision is clearer than any we of Middle-Earth may possess."

"That's a very gentle way of putting it."

"Your anger at the price you pay for such a task is not misguided. But I fear you will cling to it and in that you will fall to its power."

"How can I not be angry?" Josephine snapped, more at the Valar than Galadriel herself, a nuance she was certain the Lady already knew. "They let me rest and put my guard down for two fucking years!"

"Would you have been ready to bear this task sooner?"

Would she? For all the happiness and peace that she'd felt during those two years they were hardly easy. The aftermath of the War was still being soothed, even up to that day in Ithilien, and not only in the hearts of the people of Gondor. If the Quest for Erebor felt arduous and frightening now, what would she have felt two years ago? Or even one?

"Their actions may appear cold, but they are not without reason, nor are they cruel in their intentions."

"If they're not cruel then you think they'll send me back to Gondor…My Gondor, when I've done what they sent me here for?" Galadriel didn't know for sure, Josephine knew that, but she'd take the best guess of the woman older than the moon any day.

Josephine watched as Galadriel's lips turned up into the sort of smile that made her question seem so simple to answer it was a wonder she'd asked at all. She wasn't sure whether to be annoyed at the benevolence or hopeful for reassurance that she didn't do all of this just to lose him forever.

Noiselessly, Galadriel moved over the grass to stand right in front of her. "The Valar's will is known only to them. Your fate is tied to it and for that I cannot foresee where it will lie."

"I can live with your opinion. You didn't answer my question."

"For there is no answer I can give you."

Josephine pursed her lips and took a tight breath. Every goddamn time she went to the wisest in Middle-Earth for counsel she came out with fuck all at best, and more riddles at worst. Granted she should know better, the old idiom of they'll say both yes and no wasn't around for no reason. But if she couldn't get advice from them, then where did that leave her?

"Then why am I even here? Why did you summon me?"

"You needed to ask your questions of me, even if I could not give you what you desired." She framed Josephine's face gently in her hands and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, then held her gaze. "His thoughts follow your path, and his heart is with you."

"So he does know where I am?" Technically she hadn't disappeared yet because technically none of that had happened…except…time travel theories were convoluted and confusing and no amount of scifi watching had prepared her for this. Was time passing for him just like it was passing for her? The day she'd been taken from Ithilien was the same date as the day she'd appeared in the Shire. Was it possible time was passing congruently for the both of them? Day for day, hour for hour? If that was true it gave her more hope for going home again. Or was it merely time that would pass for him where he would hope, counting the days till the end of the story and finding in the end she never came home?

"Will those who meet you again let him bear such pain in ignorance?" She answered simply, then stepped back. "I will await when next we meet, Seer Josephine.

Josephine's mind was whirling and she barely cared about the summary dismissal as she went back to her room where she began to pace. There had to be a safe way to do it. Something that would mean nothing to anyone who accidentally found it. If she couldn't muster more than a shred of hope for herself, then maybe she could give him some.

Her eyes landed on the small basket set absentmindedly on her chair, left for her to use by Gilraen, the project folded carefully inside only partially completed.

When she finally looked up from her task, cutting the last thread, the sun was rising. Words were dangerous, playing with fire if they fell into anyone else's hands before their time. But she needed to reassure him, find a way to reach across the decades and tell him she was still there, at least for now.

The blue fabric in her hands was almost two feet long, harkening to the tokens the women of Gondor tied around the arms of their lovers when they left for battle. If they had the time to decorate them they did, but a ragged cut from the hem of a dress had been as much as many had been able to muster during the war.

It may have been Josephine who was going off to battle, but she would leave him with something to keep her close, just like the token he'd had with him when he walked the Paths of the Dead. A token of the same color, but her time went into countless stitches of silver and white. The tree was crooked and the leaves were uneven, but it would be his and she hoped it would take with it even a shadow of her love.

She left her room, haggard and exhausted, heading for Elrond's study with the gift in her hand. Was she starting to treat him like her personal postal service through time and space? Possibly. She was too determined to pass her message along to care.

But Elrond wasn't in his study, which she figured out when she turned a corner and slammed right into him. His hands held her arms to steady her and he looked down at her with thinly veiled concern.

"Lady Josephine, is something wrong?"

She pressed her package towards him. "Eighty years to the day. Can you get this to him?"

His eyebrow rose and he let go of her to carefully take the folded cloth in his hand.

"June 29th, 3021. Can you do that?"

He nodded and he slipped it into the folds of his robes. "I see more hope in your eyes than you have held since we met. Was your counsel with Lady Galadriel enlightening?"

"It was…something at least."

>>><<<

June 29th, 3021

A month had passed since Aragorn had sent messengers to beg answers from Rivendell and Erebor, but for the distance they'd have to travel he expected to get nothing in return for another month at the least. That made the arrival of his guest all the stranger and more troubling. The near thousand mile journey from Rivendell was taken of their own accord, perhaps to bring him tidies, a thought that sent fear into his heart so strong it nearly weakened him at the knees. For that reason he wasn't received in the hall, nor the courtyard. Instead, Aragorn slipped nervously through the door of the King's House, to their personal sitting room to greet his oldest counsel. In those walls, he would need not hide the pain that might await him.

Aragorn's anxiety was clear when he came inside to where Lord Elrond waited, his traveling cloak taken by Ciril who quickly retreated from the room. His expression was serious, but not grieved as Aragorn feared. Hope still stirred in his heart, and he looked upon Elrond feeling as vulnerable and lost as a son begging strength from his father because he had lost all of his own.

"Is she-" He swallowed the lump in his throat that choked his words and tried again. "Did she-"

"I know no more of her fate than Gandalf. My coming is only meant to bring you comfort, not despair."

Tears of relief filled his eyes and a breath left his lips with a shudder. "She was in Rivendell. You knew her then."

Elrond nodded. "I daresay she found more rest in the valley before the War than she did in those times. Her fear of losing you seemed to sink far deeper than her fears of following Frodo."

"Was she well?" He took a step. "She was not ill? Or wounded?"

"She was whole and hale when she left the valley. I dare not say more, for I too have been sworn to silence and her tale is hers to tell, except in the event she does not return."

"Then why have you come? You are here too soon for word to have reached you."

"I too, have been bidden to a task, Aragorn." He reached into his robes and withdrew a small package, wrapped in oilskin that laid comfortable in the palm of his hand. "I bring this to you as she asked, eighty years from the day she left it to me."

Aragorn took it warily, as hungry to see its contents as he was nervous for what message could be held within. Undoing the tie the oilskin opened stiffly, held in the same position for decades. A wide blue ribbon of fabric lay folded in front of him, stitched with silver. Blue like the token he still carried with him. As he opened it in front of him a small fold of parchment fell to the floor which he quickly retrieved.

I walk this path with the hope I'll return to you. Your strength goes with me, and I've sent my heart to you.

-Hiril lîn

Aragorn shook, tears rolling down his cheeks. He held the token in his hand lightly, for it was more precious to him now than anything else he possessed. With closed eyes he pressed it to his lips, knowing that no trace of her touch was left in the threads, no hint of her scent despite what he would give for even that. But it was from her. Words from his love meant to bring him hope. It was more than he could bear.

Elrond's hand grasped his shoulder as Aragorn stumbled forward, drawn into an embrace he'd not known since his youth.

"Estel, sîdh." Elrond said. "Sîdh."

Chapter Text

Midsummer's Eve dawned and Josephine decided, upon waking, that she was ready for this. Her bag was packed, her gear ready and waiting for her. Having not wanted to deal with Thorin before she had to, she'd avoided mentioning the map and moon runes that he needed to see Elrond about, hoping he'd come around on his own.

According to Gandalf, he hadn't. Having two people in his party (Three if you counted Bilbo) cohorting with the elves had made him even more stubborn than she'd expected. She had work to do and his pride was getting in her way.

The dwarves were how she expected to find them come morning after a long night of shenanigans. Mostly asleep, bleary eyed if they were awake. All except for Thorin, who was always stoic and put together almost as a rule.

Josephine had considered the pros and cons of speaking to him privately or calling him out in front of everyone. One was likely to be easier but was a lot more like brute force and would just rub him the wrong way. Having an audience wasn't going to go over well even if it got the job done. So she relented to the better, more diplomatic option which was privacy and asked to speak with him alone, out of earshot but just within view of the others.

He crossed his arms like he was waiting. "I imagine Gandalf has spoken with you and that is why you have finally come."

"I was hoping you'd see the wisdom in his suggestion before I had to get involved." She put her hands on her hips, resisting the urge to copy his crossed arms. "I mean out of all the elves we could be asking for help from, Lord Elrond is the least pretentious of all of them." Maybe she could slowly convince him, make him feel less like she was giving him an order. She really didn't want to fight Thorin every step of the way but when it came down to it, she was a stranger walking around telling Thorin Oakenshield what to do, and in front of twelve of his subordinates on top of it. That wasn't going to go over that well.

"We do not need his help."

"So what's the map say?" She countered.

"I'm not certain." He said pointedly. "So why don't you tell me? Would you have me believe you don't know what is on that map?"

"I'm your insurance, not your shortcut." Almost as an afterthought she added, "And no, not exactly, it's been awhile." She could remember potentially enough, but the exact wording of the verse on that map was not something her brain had decided to hold onto when she became the leader of a damn country two years prior.

"Oh well that does give me comfort for the rest of our journey." He said sarcastically.

"I thought you trusted me?"

"Yes, but not blindly so."

"Show the map to Elrond."

"Tell me what you know."

"The damn thing is covered in moon runes that can only be ready by the light of tonight's moon specifically and if you don't we'll never get to the mountain on time and the whole world will be fucked over!" She pointed her finger at him forcefully. "And I'm not exaggerating when I say that."

Begrudgingly Thorin softened slightly. "You trust this elf?"

"With my whole damn life." And the lives of just about everyone she ever cared about now that she thought about it.

He was silent for a long time, but she could see him relenting. He wasn't stupid, just stubborn. If she was patient enough through all of this, she might be able to get him to trust her with less arguments involved.

"Very well. He will read them tonight and we will leave at first light.

Once she was in the company of the dwarves, she wasn't going to get away from their company so easily. She'd spent most of their time in Rivendell avoiding them, hiding in her rooms or spending time with Gilraen and Bilbo. All in all, she was realizing she'd missed them. After Thorin had gotten them all awake and told them their itinerary, they decided they'd take advantage of their last day of elven hospitality. Kegs (what may have been the last in all of Rivendell) we sent for, food came by the tray full, and they (including herself) were drunk by noon and soon joined by Bilbo.

The difference came where she stopped drinking at noon and almost all of them didn't. She excused herself with Thorin to take the map to Elrond as the sun started to dip below the hills and met Gandalf along the way. Taking a backseat to the proceedings she was more there as a babysitter to make sure Thorin didn't back out on anything important. Hovering in the archway as Elrond brought the map to the crystal pedestal she watched and waited, catching glances from Gandalf who spent as much time observing her as he did the reading.

With the verses read Thorin took his leave and she stayed behind, listening to the crashing of the waterfall and feeling the wind of it bring a damp chill into her arms.

"Thank you for your assistance, Josephine." Gandalf said with relief.

She shrugged. "It's what I'm here for…sort of. I never quite know if I'm the one causing all these issues that I run around fixing but it is what it is. We're on track so that's what matters."

"That is comforting to hear." Elrond added. "Normally I would not place so much concern on the outcome of this task but your involvement adds a degree of importance, though I cannot do more than speculate on the specifics. I trust my armorers have provided you all you might need for your journey?"

As much as the next leg of it would let her keep anyway, but he didn't need to know that. "As usual, they don't disappoint. And neither does your hospitality, and your discretion." The number of requests she'd made of him, the tokens and packages she'd ask to be delivered so far away, it was more than this era's Elrond had reason to grant her. But he'd done it without question and if she got back to her own time, she'd make sure she thanked him again. "I'll take my leave, I know you have a council to go to and I have someone I need to see before we go."

Elrond bowed his head as a farewell and she left the cavern. Her time in Rivendell was over, the last peace she'd hope for until the end. Five more months. Two had been hard enough to bear and all they'd had to deal with were trolls. But she couldn't dwell too long on what was coming up, she'd have to deal with it no matter what.

She was headed for Gilraen's rooms, she knew where they were but hadn't ever been there for her own sake. Aragorn wouldn't come to the guest rooms on his mother's order but there would've been no keeping him from his own. But she wasn't going to waste time having her sent for when they were on her way back from the cavern.

Then a voice began to rise from a branching path, still a ways off but entirely unmistakable. She'd know it anywhere, exactly the same as when it had come down from the top of Isengard. Saruman was conversing with Galadriel, probably on their way to the council.

Josephine, heart racing, bunched her skirt up in her hand and took off running, hoping to get out of sight before they reached the crossroad. She didn't slow down until she'd made two unnecessary detours and stared up the path for a solid two minutes while peering from behind a tree to make sure, even though they'd been going the opposite direction.

Saruman was already falling, though the others didn't seem to notice. If he'd found out about her that early in the game, she'd be in a lot more danger by the War. She was suddenly very glad they'd be leaving in a matter of hours.

She'd collected herself by the time she reached Gilraen's door, but that came with a whole new wash of unease. She could hear his voice from outside, echoing off the open balcony as she knocked shakily.

He was the one to open the door, looking up at her with curious eyes. When he saw who it was he bowed to her again, his stiff motion curated and not yet second nature. "My lady."

"Is-" Her voice caught and she cleared her throat, taking a deep breath and collecting herself. "Is your mother here?"

He stepped to the side, holding the door still so she could come in. Once she'd gotten past he closed it behind her and skirted past her to go around the corner to another room in an almost run. Josephine fought a smirk as the taught manners slipped and the ten year old boy shined through.

Gilraen looked worried when she came into the room, clearly surprised that Josephine had come and probably assuming something horrible had happened for her to take that step.

"I leave tomorrow at first light. I was hoping we could take a walk maybe?" Just a little bit more time, one more minute together, and then another, because when they finally said goodbye it would be for good.

Gilraen quickly instructed Aragorn to go to bed, collected her sewing basket, and slipped her free arm through Josephine's as they went out into the night.

"Are you alright?" She asked Josephine first. "I know seeing him brings you pain."

But never to the degree that she'd anticipated and dreaded when they got to Rivendell. "Each time it's a little bit better. Seeing Estel now doesn't remind me of him as much as I was afraid it would. I thought there'd be more…I don't know. Mannerisms I guess. Like how he would say certain things or act in certain ways. Honestly I think you remind me of him more than Estel does."

Gilraen smiled. "Do I indeed? I always imagined he'd carry himself much like his father when he got older."

Maybe he was, but she couldn't help but see in Gilraen where a lot of his gentleness had been born. "Oh there's a ranger in there, through and through, don't get me wrong." Josephine laughed. "But he's got the hands of a healer, so the poems say. I wouldn't be alive now if it weren't for that."

Gilraen squeezed her close and sighed. "I will miss you, my daughter. But I would rather bear such pain than have never known you at all."

Josephine stopped and wrapped her arms around Gilraen, sinking into her as she cradled Josephine's head in her hand and held her tightly. When they pulled away Gilraen looked sad, but smiled at her anyway.

"I have also brought a gift for you." She set her basket down and reached inside, pulling out of a length of fabric Josephine started to recognize.

Gilraen held the brown cloak she'd been making for Aragorn, opening it to show the finished and embroidered edges along the sides and the hood.

"I can't accept that, it's for-"

"It was never for Estel, and even if it was, I could make him another." She draped it over Josephine's shoulders and clasped it at her neck with a silver pin. "Consider it my gift to you."

Thoughts of them being stripped of their gear not once, but twice before the end of the journey flooded her mind and each time she could lose it. The idea made her stomach hurt. "What if I lose it? You should give it to Lord Elrond, he could give it to me in the future-"

With a firm, maternal voice Gilraen stopped her. "You will take it with you now. Whether it makes it home with you or not, you will have a piece of your family's love with you for as far as it lasts."

Her family.

Her mother.

For the second time that night, Josephine threw her arms around Gilraen, this time trying not to cry. "Thank you."

Gilraen held her composure with a lot more ease than Josephine was managing and she wiped a stray tear from Josephine's face before putting her arm around her shoulder and leading her down the path towards her room.

"Come now, if you are to leave tomorrow I would have you rest as much tonight as you can. I will see you off in the morning so there's no need for us to say our goodbyes right now."

Gilraen sent her right to bed and left only once she was satisfied Josephine wasn't going to stay up. But sleep wasn't the same as going to bed and just like before the Fellowship departed, Josephine barely slept at all. When morning was on its way there was a soft knock at the door and Josephine was already up, lighting the candles in her room for the last time.

Gilraen hummed to herself as she set down a tray of food Josephine took as an order to eat and then she took Josephine's gear from the stand and laid it out on the bed.

Josephine hadn't had company before a journey like this, not a trip so important and frightening anyway. She was far more at ease than she'd expected.

Still singing to herself, Gilraen began to help her into her traveling clothes and armor, finally ending with the pin on her cloak.

When she was dressed and ready and it was almost time, Gilraen took her face in her hands with a sigh. "If you remember nothing else I have said, remember this. Do not give into despair, though it calls to your heart like the gulls call the elves to the sea. You have strength enough to bear this task and so you must. And once it is done you will return to him again, you must hold that hope without surrender."

Where Galadriel's counsel had been vague and open ended because of her knowledge, Gilraen's came clear and assured because of her own grief and hope. Josephine found herself equally grateful for the blunt truth of the elves and the firm idealism of men. Mix it with a little devil-may-care from the dwarves and she might have half a chance after all.

"I'll make it home again." Josephine told Gilraen. "I will."

"Yes." Gilraen agreed softly, giving her gloved hands a tight squeeze. "Yes you will."

Sword at her hip and knife along her back, Josephine was ready and they made for the courtyard to depart. The company was bulky with well stocked packs and seemed anxious to leave, no one to see them off but Gilraen and Lord Elrond.

The same archway waited for them that the Fellowship would leave through decades from that morning. It left Josephine with an odd sort of feeling she couldn't place. Not quite nostalgia, and not quite yearning, but not necessarily a lack of either of those.

There were no speeches this time, Thorin simply turned and began walking, each dwarf falling in line. Gandalf took up the end with Bilbo who paused for one last, longing look around the courtyard. Josephine followed with a light push from Gilraen, also pausing like Bilbo to look back.

She gave Elrond a nod of thanks and took one final look at Gilraen, saying a quiet, single goodbye before sucking a deep breath into her chest and turning away from them. Biting her lip and holding back tears she pulled her hood low over her eyes and fell into step behind Gandalf.

Only once they ascended the path out of the valley did she look up again, taking a moment to remember it like she had with Aragorn. Their rides through the valley and stories shared in the Hall of Fire. From there on out, not one step she'd take would be familiar. Maybe it was for the best, but she'd almost miss the ghosts of him that had been following her since Bree.

"I said goodbye to your mom today." She whispered to the ghosts. "And happy anniversary."

And with that, the valley was behind her.

Chapter Text

Aragorn had, months before, made plans for them for that day. A rare day off, recognition of their second year together. It was uncommon to mark anniversaries every year, instead milestone anniversaries were more noted. But it was tradition from her land, and he wanted to do it for her.

But now he could only honor the day alone. The gifts he'd had made for her laid on her dressing table, useless to her in her absence. The finely wrought builders tools, the embroidered mantle, and soft new slippers would have to wait until winter, when the weather wouldn't suit them and the gate would be complete.

He dressed in silence, knotting her token around his neck to keep her close before buttoning up his tunic. Before leaving for his day, he laid his hand on the back of her dressing table chair.

"Happy anniversary, meleth nin. May you find your road safe this day."

>>><<<

The air thinned quickly as they made their way up into the mountains and it didn't turn entirely cold, but the breeze held the promise of a chill night. One day after the next they walked up and up and up, their moods dour with the difficult terrain.

Her requisitioned travel coat was a godsend when the mist set in. And then a week and a half into their journey it turned into rain. It was a miserable but wonderfully uneventful trek up. Constantly, constantly up.

And then their path got thin and pushed through craggy spires soaked in the perpetual rain. It was slick and muddy and generally skirting a cliff face. They slid and caught one another all day long and gave up, night after night, on finding a dry spot to lay.

Late afternoon, just after the two week mark, her blank, one foot in front of the other drudgery came to an end.

Stones and boulders began crashing into the walls around them. She grabbed Bilbo and held him against her with one arm, using the other to brace herself against the rock wall to their left.

"Stone giants!" Someone yelled over the clap of thunder and crash of stone.

This wasn't the part she was afraid of.

"Take cover!" Dwalin yelled.

They flattened against the wall as a boulder hit the mountain above them and stone rained down. Josephine could hardly see through the stinging rain but she could make out dark masses across the chasm in front of them, tossing boulders at each other.

Staying still was a death sentence, but moving was also a risky idea. Rocks broke off parts of the path, making it even narrower in place or leaving entire gaps they had to leap across. Every time they had to jump someone grabbed her from behind and threw her into the arms of the dwarf who'd been in front of her. Josephine couldn't decide if she appreciated the help or worried they'd misjudge the timing and drop her.

She kept waiting for the path beneath their feet to start moving and to realize they were standing on one of the giants, but it didn't happen. Through the flash of lightening she realized the giants were actual flesh and bone giants and not made of stone, a small comfort all things considered as another boulder came their way. Bilbo's place as an unreliable and exaggerating narrator was coming through for her when she saw them. Luckily that would probably help mask her presence in the story even more.

They began to round a corner in single file, eager to get out of the range of the giants, but their luck wasn't that good. A boulder slammed into the pathway right in the center of the group, and more specifically, Bilbo, Fili, and Kili.

Thorin, three dwarves ahead of her, called back over her head for his nephews and they all froze in place, seconds feeling like minutes while the debris cleared with their eyes straining in the dark.

Another flash of lightning lit up the mountains and they saw the other half of the group again, including Fili and Kili, but Bilbo was missing.

"Shit- Shit! Bilbo!" She screamed over the storm, pushing past Dwalin and Balin towards the new gap in the path.

She heard his quiet, frightening yell from the ledge where all she could see were the tips of his fingers. The dwarves followed suit as she reached for him but he slipped onto a lower handhold right as they go to him.

Suddenly someone grabbed her cloak and yanked her back, that someone being Thorin who quickly took her place and swung down off the edge. He hoisted Bilbo into the arms of the dwarves, then when the weight shifted he slipped, barely caught by Dwalin in time.

"I thought we'd lost our burglar!" Dwalin said.

"He's been lost since he left home." Thorin snapped, frustrated and out of turn. "He should never have come. He has no place amongst us."

"Thorin, shut the fuck up!" She snapped, sending a ripple of silence through the entire company. Hindsight, twenty-twenty, telling the grumpy Thorin to shut the fuck up was not the calculated sort of action she would've hoped to make in that moment. But she wasn't going to put up with him being an asshole to Bilbo for no reason without saying something either.

Thorin glared at her and drew close, unable to tower over her with their near match of height but the anger in his eyes was clear. "And neither do you."

And that was the end of it, one more unfounded and stabbing comment that stung a lot more than she wanted to admit. She expected his stupid snipping and rude demeanor but she didn't like being the target of it anymore than she liked to hear it directed towards Bilbo.

He went to the head of the column as the last of the dwarves plus Gandalf made it over the gap. Bofur gave her a pat on the back and a sympathetic smile.

"Don't worry lass, you belong just fine. The both of ye do."

The company stayed in an awkward silence and they went on for another quarter hour before Thorin dipped into the mouth of a cave up ahead with his sword drawn just in case.

"Looks safe enough." Dwalin said, going in next.

"Search to the back, caves in the mountain are seldom unoccupied."

They all huddle in near the mouth while Dwalin looked around and finally said, "There's nothin' here."

"Right then!" Gloin said, happily tossing a few legs of former Rivendell furniture onto the ground. "Let's get a fire started."

"No, no fires." Thorin said quickly. "Not in this place. Get some sleep, we start at first light. Bofur, take the first watch."

Josephine immediately went to the edge of the cave, trying to hide as much of her anxieties as she could. And if she were along the edge, she'd hopefully not get crushed by a bunch of falling dwarves as they fell and just end up on top of them instead.

Bilbo followed her, noticing how she didn't remove any of her wet clothes but not bringing it up.

"You're not gonna slip away on me, are you?" She asked him, her voice muffled beneath her mask.

He scoffed like what she suggested was crazy but it was obvious he'd been considering it. "Without you? Never. We stick together, you and I." He was about to lay down when he paused. "Thank you, by the way. For earlier, with what Thorin said."

"Anytime." She said, trying to sound lighthearted. "We stick together, remember?"

And with that he plopped down beside her and tried to fall asleep.

Josephine didn't. Not a wink.

She waited there, listening to the dwarves snoring, coiled like a spring ready to snap into action at any second. At first she mistook the grainy hiss of sand for the storm outside, until Thorin's voice grumbled in the darkness.

But it was, of course, too late.

With a creak the trap doors opened and they were falling.

Josephine wrapped her arms around her head as they tumbled and slid and skidded over rock and gravel. When they came to a stop, all piled on top of each other in a wooden cage, there was just enough time for Josephine to roll over and see a mass of screeching goblins flooding down the path towards them.

They were pulled out one by one and pushed into the throng. As each dwarf was grabbed a heavy hand pushed her back and she fell into Bilbo. But it was a matter of time and the second to last goblin grabbed her by the scruff of her cloak. She wrenched her chin towards her shoulder to try and find Bilbo, seeing him get snagged by the last goblin and shoved towards the rest of them. That wasn't going to work, he had to go unseen, fall into the bowels of goblin town.

With a heave she caught her captor off guard and sent him flying off the ledge of the platform. Then, time short, she grabbed Bilbo's captor and chucked the small creature away into the yawning dark. These goblins were smaller than the ones she'd met in Moria, and she was lucky for that too. She was larger than a lot of them.

"Hide!" She hissed at Bilbo, then felt two hands grasp her by the arms and drag her back. When she looked back up, Bilbo was gone. She was also glad to see that Gandalf was nowhere to be found.

That was the most she could do. Now it was up to Bilbo, and he had no idea what he was supposed to do. But whatever he did, it would determine the fate of Middle- Earth.

They were pushed along in a sea of goblins, the dwarves occasionally shoved or hit back but it didn't do them any good, there was no way out of the hoard even if they fought off a few of them. The trek was long but as they rounded a corner a wheezy sounding horn blew through the cavern and the winding path towards a very clear throne came into view.

Oh how she'd hoped, how much she'd hoped the music was also an exaggeration. Other so-called instruments started up, hurting their ears and playing out of tune.

As the Goblin King came into full view he began to sing and they were herded into the center of the platform. The dwarves pulled her into the middle of them and she tugged at her hood and mask, making sure it was all still in place.

"Catchy, isn't it?" The Goblin Kind said. "It's one of my own compositions."

"That's not a song, that's an abomination!" Balin yelled.

"Abominations! Mutations! Deviations! That's all you're gonna find down here." The Goblin King sat back down on his throne and the goblins began pulling their weapons off of them. She watched angrily as her sword belt came off and Aragorn's knife joined the pile at the giant goblin's feet.

"Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom! Spies? Thieves? Assassins?!"

"Dwarves, your malevolence!" A goblin offered.

"Dwarves!"

She didn't understand how he couldn't figure that out by looking at them, but maybe his bad eyesight was just bad enough that it would help her remain unnoticed. As it was, the dwarves were doing a good job, sticking her behind Dwalin who was one of the tallest of the group.

"We found them on the front porch."

"Well don't just stand there! Search them! Every crack! Every crevice!"

Their bags were torn from their backs, their cloaks ripped from their throats. Gilraen's gift followed into a pile next to their weapons as Nori's bag was tipped upside down and emptied, spilling a menagerie of silverware and candlesticks from Rivendell.

"Elves!" The goblins squeaked and yelled.

"What are you dwarves doing in these parts?" The king demanded.

Oin pushed forward. "Don't worry lads, I'll handle this."

"No tricks! I want the truth! Warts and all."

"You're going to have to speak up, ye'r boys flattened by trumpet!"

The king got angry and shot forward. "I'll do more than flatten your trumpet!"

Then Bofur jumped into the fray. "If it's the truth you want then I'm the one you'll want to speak to." When the king paused to let him, Bofur froze. "We were on the road. Well it's not so much a road as a path. Actually…it's not even that come to think of it. It's more like a track. Anyway the point is we were on this road like a path like a track. And then we weren't. Which is a problem because we were supposed to be in Dunland last Tuesday."

"Visiting distant relations." Dori added.

"Some inbreds on my mother's side." Bofur continued.

The king bellowed again. "Shut up! If they will not talk! We'll make them squawk! Bring up the mangler! Bring up the bone breaker! We'll start with the youngest!" He pointed to Ori.

"Wait!" Thorin yelled, stepping forward and showing himself.

"Well, well well…Look who it is. Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thor. King Under the Mountain. Except…Oh, but I'm forgetting, you don't have a mountain. And you're not a king, which makes you…nobody, really. I know someone who would pay a pretty price for your head. Just the head, of course, nothing attached. Perhaps you know of whom I speak. An old enemy of yours. The pale orc astride a white warg."

"Azog the defiler was destroyed. He was slain in battle long ago!"

"So you think his defiling days are done, do you?" The Goblin King sneered, turning to a goblin sitting on a pulley. "Send word to the Pale Orc. Tell him I have found his prize."

They were kept at the king's feet as goblins scattered to collect the mangler and bone breaker and others continued to pick them of their gear. Josephine tried to stay calm and optimistic, as optimistic as someone trapped in the goblin capital of the Misty Mountains could be. Everything was familiar so she had no reason to worry, except for their eardrums as the Goblin King began singing again.

She ducked and hid behind the dwarves, helped along as the goblins circled them. But the goblins were smaller, and even though her head was lost in the sea of dwarves, one noticed her from below. A hand closed around her ankle and wrenched it out from under her, dragging her out of the protective circle. They clawed her coat off and tore away at her mask, leaving her disguise on the ground as she was hefted into the air by four goblins who screeched excitedly.

"Look, your benevolence!" One yelled. "They brought something else with them!"

This was bad, very very bad, but they had time. There wasn't much left, Gandalf would come soon.

"Bring it here!" The king demanded.

They tossed her onto the ground at his feet, well out of reach of the dwarves.

She pushed herself up and stood in front of him, heart pounding but ready to buy for time. She'd argued with Saruman and Denethor and the damn Mouth of Sauron, she could handle stalling a goblin.

"You're not a dwarf." He said, bending down to level his face with her. One large finger hooked under her chin and he turned her face to the left and right to get a better look. He was blind as a bat after all.

"What gave it away? The smell or rather, lack thereof?" His breath made her want to gag but she smiled and pushed back the impulse.

"A woman!" The king exclaimed, sitting back on his throne with a lot more happiness than she was comfortable seeing.

"Last I checked." This wasn't a time to show off or play know it all like she had with the others in the past. She'd heard the stories of what happened to travelers caught by goblins, specifically ones like her, but she was pretty sure none of them had this kind of chance to talk their way out of it either. "I was hoping these dwarves might help me come into some gold of some sort but they're poor as church mice." She said with acted disappointment.

"Church mice?" The king inquired. "What are those?"

Turn of phrase translation errors."...The poorest kind."

The king smiled and bent down again. "Ah, a thief within a band of thieves are you?"

"A girl's gotta eat." She shrugged, recoiling internally at the sweet tone she took up. "I bet you put on quite the feast too."

He chuckled. "Oh we do, of dwarf and of daughters of men who try to use their wiles to escape what's coming to them." He finished in a growl, took her chin between two fingers and gave it a shake that went all the way down to her feet.

Then he took his forefinger and flicked her in the chest, making her stumble back several feet into a huddle of goblins who took hold of her.

"I've changed my mind! We'll start with her!" He bellowed out so that all the spectators along the walls could hear. The goblins laughed and jeered as her stomach sank.

They had her, four of them, by the arms and behind Bofur yelled her name.

Thorin was next, she looked over her shoulder as he was held back by the fray, behind him crude and spiked machines were making their way along the path.

"She has no value to you!" He yelled.

"Now that's where you are wrong, Thorin Oakenshield. If you won't talk, then perhaps we need to…hm…change your perspective?"

Claws dug into her arms, tearing into her tunic as she was shoved onto her knees and her arms were stretched out to the side. The crack of a whip broke the air over her head and she flinched. Behind her, out of view the dwarves yelled. In front of her the Goblin King jeered excitedly.

Gandalf was coming.

She'd be fine.

Gandalf would be there any moment.

He had to be.

Chapter Text

Ropes were wound tightly around her wrists and tied to the railings on either side of the platform. They all laughed and jeered, a sound she tried desperately to ignore as she glared up at the Goblin King who just laughed at her anger.

"It's been too long since we've had this kind of sport!" The king roared. "We'll peel your lovely flesh from your bones. Oh yes, the pleasure will be ours. And perhaps your friends will see fit to talk before too long and we'll slice your throat as a final mercy."

From next to the king a goblin grinned, letting the metal tipped straps of a lash swing threateningly in front of her face. She shook where she kneeled, ropes quivering as she pulled against them.

Gandalf was coming.

Any second.

The goblin left the king's side and tossed the lash over her head to one behind her. She'd been so lucky, timing had been so good since she came to Middle-Earth. She knew Gandalf would be there, it was just the damn cinematic timing that still seemed to dog the story at such specific times. This was one of them, she was sure of it.

It had to be.

Because what the king promised wasn't going to happen.

She couldn't say what registered first, whether it was the sound of the crack, or her body catching up to the tearing of her tunic first and then her skin. She was so caught off guard by it she didn't make a sound. Her throat closed in shock and in fear as a sharp, deep sting sank in and a wet chill reached her back. The taste of copper flooded her mouth from where her teeth had cut into her tongue.

The laughs of the goblins filled the cavern and behind her the dwarves fell silent.

The moment she managed to process what had just happened it came again, this time the pain came with the crack and she gasped.

Where was Gandalf?

Why wasn't he there?

How could this be happening?

It cracked again and the back of her tunic tore open completely. She could feel her blood run warm and then cool, running down onto her pants and making her tunic stick to her skin.

The Goblin King laughed. "Would anyone like to speak now?" He scanned the dwarves and then caught her eye. "What about you, hm?"

Eyes wide, she spat at his feet. "Go fuck yourself." She hissed.

"Again!" He yelled and the lash came down a fourth time.

She could imagine her skin giving way to muscle, and then muscle to bone. They wouldn't stop until they could wrap their grimy hands around her spine and she'd die there.

CRACK.

Never leaving those caverns.

CRACK.

Rotting there, lucky if any of them escaped and could carry the tale of her fate beyond the mountains.

CRACK.

Silence was impossible to uphold anymore and each crack drew more, coming first with a whimper, then a sob, then a scream.

Aragorn would never know what happened.

CRACK.

Or worse.

He would learn how she died.

"ENOUGH!" Thorin cried.

Behind her, through the wind in her ears and the spots in her eyes, she heard the goblin holding the lash screech and skitter off to the side.

Her head hung between her shoulders but she saw Thorin's boots step forward, between her and the Goblin King.

"Ready to talk, Thorin, son of Thrain?" He laughed.

"If you wish to play at torture then you will torture me."

Chapter Text

Josephine hung limp against the ropes holding her arms outstretched, the pain from the lashes, the cold of her blood running from her wounds, it made her stomach roll. Above her Thorin blocked her view of the Goblin King. He argued and yelled back and forth, words that came in and out as her vision narrowed and darkened.

And then suddenly there was light, a bright flash and a rush of air that knocked everyone standing to the ground.

"Take up arms. Fight. Fight!"

Gandalf's voice came clear, cutting through the rushing in her ears. Her hands fell to her sides, free of their bonds and she slumped forward into a warm body. Something was thrown over her and then she was floating, bobbing like a boat in the water. Torchlight blended together as it rushed past and the couldn't make out one sound or voice from another.

And then it was dark.

>>><<<

3020

"Josephine!"

It was dark, she pushed away from the sound, her feet awkwardly hit the ground and she stumbled back, knocking into something hard that toppled over. She tripped on it and started to fall but something jerked her forward.

Soft fabric brushed against her cheek and arms wrapped her in warmth.

"Shhh, sidh Josephine." Aragorn soothed. "A nightmare, nothing more."

Frantically she wound her arms around them and gripped his shirt in her hands. "Too real." She mumbled, pressing her face into his chest. "Like I was there."

"But you are not." He reminded her softly, reassuring her that the things she'd seen were long past or false entirely. "You are with me, and no more harm will befall you."

"You can't promise that." Not if battle came again, not if orcs came in droves like they had in her dream, like they had during the war not yet a year ago.

"You are safe, meleth nin." A promise he could make that she could believe.

She shook, tears stinging in her eyes. "I know that but I can't feel it." It felt no different from the fear of staring down the maw of uncountable orcs, the creep of darkness nipping at her chest at the gates of Mordor.

Shifting his arms he picked her up, fumbling with the latch of the balcony door for a moment before stepping outside. He put her down on the settee and gently pressed the flats of her feet against the cold stone. The wind was harsh that night but felt clear and crisp against her cheeks. He then sat down behind her and wrapped her in his arms, pressing her back against his chest.

"Do not dwell on the darkness, Josephine." He said softly, pressing a kiss to her neck. "Think of the coolness of the wind, and the light of the stars above you."

Josephine took a deep breath and looked up, leaning her head back into his shoulder. He breathed slowly and with measure behind her, coaxing her away from the reach of her dream. He spoke under his breath, elvish that she couldn't make out but lulled her into gently rocking along with him. The motion quelled the urge to run and after the moon had made a bit of progress along the sky she finally felt like she was coming back to herself.

Her feet were like ice now, but she could finally feel it fully and tucked them up onto the cushion. Aragorn freed one of his hands and laid it over them. "How do you feel?"

"Better." She said with uncertainty, still unsure of exactly what she felt now. "Well, more awake I guess."

He trailed his hand down her arm lightly and kissed her temple. "The rest will pass."

"It's getting worse." She'd had nightmares before, from the war, it was only natural. He did too, at least as often as she did. But neither one of them had been through one so bad as that, at least not since they'd known each other. Not one that felt so…so real. Not one that followed her so far into the real world.

"That does not mean it will not soon get better. But we will weather whatever comes, for it will not endure."

Josephine wasn't sure she fully believed him, not with the yawning darkness that had just been filling her mind so convincingly. But she would trust him.

>>><<<

Stars wheeled overhead and Josephine couldn't make sense of why. The smell of earth and trees mixed with sweat and blood and her world jerked dizzyingly as her legs crunched into a bed of fallen pine needles.

"Oin! Do what you can!" Thorin's voice cut through a clearing din of voices and his face filled her vision as she blinked away a film of old tears. "Fili, take her!"

Fili took hold of her arms and rested her chest against his shoulder. Stars? Trees? They made it outside? How-

The memory of Goblin Town filled her mind and she cried out in surprise and pain as something was peeled away from her back, blood feeling half dried against it.

Goblin town.

The lashes.

Bilbo! Where was Bilbo!

She clenched her hand around Fili's arm and looked around. "Where's Bilbo? Where is he?"

Fili looked around. "I…I don't know…I haven't seen him."

He had to be there, he had to have the Ring he had to- "Bilbo!"

"Curse that halfling, now he's lost?" Gloin grumbled. "I thought he was with Dori!"

"Don't blame me!"

Bilbo had to come, he had to be there. Without him it didn't matter if she lived or died because there was no saving Middle-Earth. "Bilbo!" It was all that mattered as Oin slathered something in her wounds and she withered. "Bilbo!"

"Well where did you last see him?" Gandalf asked.

"I'll tell you what happened, Master Baggins saw his chance and he took it. He has thought of nothing but his soft bed and his warm hearth since first he stepped out of his door." Thorin ranted. "We will not be seeing our Hobbit again. He is long gone."

"No. He isn't." His soft voice cut the tension and Josephine slumped against Fili as Bilbo hurried over and took her hand in his. "Gracious, Josephine, what happened? Are you alright? Can I-"

"How on earth did you get past the goblins?" Kili asked in amazement.

Josephine let go of Bilbo's hand and grabbed for the one tucked lightly in his pocket. She wrapped her fingers around the fabric, looking for what had to be there. It had to be. And there it was, her fingers just barely glanced off of it but there it was, the little bastard. The Ring was found. They were safe.

"Why did you come back?" Thorin demanded.

Bilbo once again took her hand, giving it a light, comforting pat. "Look, I know you doubt me, Thorin. I know you always have. And you're right, I often think of Bag End. I miss my books. And my armchair. And my garden. See, that's where I belong. That's home. That's why I came back. Cause…you don't have one. A home. It was taken from you, and for Josephine she was taken from it. So I will help you all get them back if I can."

Satisfied the dwarves went silent, but Oin kept working.

"Will she be alright?" Fili asked quietly over her shoulder, as if she couldn't hear him.

"Aye." Oin said, but she could tell he wasn't so sure. She'd probably die of infection or blood loss before they even reached Beorn's house.

"Oin, Fili, get her up fast. Carry her if you must but we cannot linger." Thorin ordered.

"You try getting someone up fast when their back's been flayed open-" Oin began to argue. "We lost nearly all our supplies, I donne even have bandages, she's lucky I saved the ointment!"

"Here now," Gandalf interrupted. "This should offer some comfort." He kneeled down at Fili's side and supported her head with his hand, a task she couldn't have managed on her own. He put a flask to her lips and tipped it up to pour a cool stream of something familiar down her tongue. Miruvor warmed her from her chest to her toes, clearing the edges of her vision and dulling at least a part of the pain.

Goblin Town.

Ring.

Now wargs. They had no time.

"Wargs are coming, we have to move." She ordered.

To make her point, howls echoed over the hills and everyone stiffened.

"Oin, get her up, now." Thorin ordered. "Fili, she is your responsibility. No matter what happens you will see she reaches safety is that clear?"

"Yes, Uncle." Fili promised firmly.

Oin wrapped something around her tightly, blocking the air from her wounds. The second he was done she was lifted up again, slung over Fili's shoulder like a sack of grain.

And then they ran.

Chapter Text

She remembered Fili coaxing her up the tree, being passed from dwarf to dwarf, higher and higher. From the sturdy branch, held tight as her head swam, flames began to eat at the darkness under them. The fire licked the sky but a dark shape cut the light in two, a sword glimmering in its hand. Some part of her took note, knowing it was Thorin. She forced her eyes into focus, trying to see from so far away what was happening.

Through the fire she saw him for the first time, the Pale Orc. The thing she had to confront if she was going to save them.

She closed her eyes for only a moment and then Bilbo was standing in the way of the orcs. She blinked away and the dwarves were running out to fight. Then once again her eyes slipped shut and a sound filled the sky, familiar somehow, but she didn't remember why.

Then they were falling and she was spinning, somewhere between the ground and the sky. Gold was beneath her and above her and wind was all around.

Once her body stopped moving and her hands felt stone between them her vision ever so slowly began to clear. "Where are we?" She asked through dry, bloodied lips that Fili quickly pressed a waterskin to.

"Not certain." He said. "Some kind of carrack the eagles brought us to."

Curled up on her side he stuffed a bundle of cloth under her head. She missed the eagles coming. Again.

"Did we all make it? Where's Thorin? Is he okay?" She had to know their place in it all, she'd blinked and missed too much. "Bilbo! Where's Bilbo? Did he get out of the mountain?"

"Bilbo is fine, you've seen him already. See, he's right there." Thorin had Bilbo pressed against his chest, thanking him for saving his life she hoped.

"Uncle!" Fili called. Thorin came over and kneeled next to him, looking a little worse for wear himself. "She's becoming confused. We cannot keep moving her like this."

"You're confused." She countered limply. Each beat of her heart centered itself in her back and radiated through the rest of her. She dared not shift or move at all, even breathing made it worse. But there was a story to follow, a plan to maintain. "We have to keep moving. No time to rest until Beorn's." Wait, had Gandalf brought that up to them yet?

Thorin laid his hand on her head and looked up. "Oin, what do you suggest?"

The old dwarf walked over and touched her cheek, then pulled aside the edge of what he'd wrapped around her wounds. She jerked involuntarily and shied away so instantly he didn't draw it back further.

"I need supplies, water, bandages." He said plainly. "And she needs a safe place to rest."

Gandalf cleared his throat behind her. "She is not wrong, there is a house near here where we might find shelter. Several hours even if we travel quickly but it may be our only option." He passed his flask to Thorin. "Use it sparingly, there is precious little. But it may give her strength enough to endure the journey."

"Fili, Kili, head down and gather branches, we'll need something to carry her with." Thorin instructed.

With his nephews out of earshot Thorin tipped the flask against her lips and she sighed as even that small amount gave her a sliver of relief.

"I dare not believe our capture was unseen by you." He said under his breath.

"I had no choice, we had to go down there."

"Mahal, child, have you not heard the tales of what they do to their captives?"

She took too deep of a breath and hissed when everything burned. "Just trust me."

He sighed and glanced up at Gandalf, like he was checking to make sure the wizard had his back turned before sneaking her a second sip of the miruvor. "You make my charge of protecting you more difficult by the day, Lady Josephine."

"Fine one to talk." She mumbled in reply. "Besides, I thought you weren't going to take on that responsibility." Then something occurred to her. What if…Like her wound at Morannon, this was no small thing. They might enter the final battle without her… "Thorin-"

"Save your strength." He ordered gently. "We will get you to this Beorn's house." He stood again, awkwardly and clearly also in a bad way. "Dwalin, take her down to Fili and Kili. Bilbo, go with her."

Down at the base of the carrack, Dwalin's cloak was strung between the branches the brothers had gathered. The miruvor was wearing off by the time they got moving and she was soon pinching her eyes shut against every shift and jostle. The sun rose but it made the world too bright and she buried her face in whatever it was they'd folded under her head as a pillow. The sun was high and warm but it was like it couldn't reach her, she was cold from the inside, near shivering but using all of her will not to.

"Her color is poor." Oin muttered, touching her cheek again with his hand as they walked.

Something heavy and warm was tucked around her and she could feel their pace quicken. And then quicken again. There was no stillness, just the yelling of the dwarves and the shaking as they carried her.

Then it was still, and it was quiet. Voices floated around her and a warm light etched at the dark. The air was close but fragrant with herbs and the smoky scent of a fire. Josephine didn't realize they were inside until she made out the form of an enormous table and a lit hearth.

She was on her stomach, with her head turned out facing the room. Her torn and bloody clothes lay in a pile on one of the chairs but she was warm, surrounded by furs.

Craning her neck she saw Thorin, Oin, and Gandalf speaking in hushed tones just out of earshot. Then Bilbo came up and sat down next to her. She was on a bed in some sort of alcove and he had to step up on something to reach her. His tight smile was probably meant to put her at ease but it didn't.

"Beorn's house?" Her voice rasped, each word heavy and costly to say.

"Safe and sound." He lied.

"How bad does it look?" She asked warily. She could feel the sting of air on her wounds and knew they weren't covered.

Bilbo's eyes flicked across her back and flashed with worry. "Not nearly as bad as I'm sure you're imagining."

The conversation between the three ended and Thorin looked grim. Josephine was unsettled by their demeanors and braced herself as Thorin took Bilbo's place at her side.

He didn't say much, only, "Bite on this, it will be over soon." and stuck a strip of leather between her teeth.

Oin climbed up and around to her other side. "Be strong now lass."

Her eyes bulged and she cried out as all of the pain came back into focus. Water washed over her skin that felt as if it were boiling hot and sharp stabs picked at her wounds. She withered and tried to pull away but she didn't have the strength and they held her steady.

"Will the strain not make her fever worsen?" Thorin growled.

"It will do far less than if I don't get this debris out." Oin argued.

He kept on and she lost count of time. Thorin and Bilbo's faces blurred and came back into focus over and over. All she knew was fire, so much fire. Inescapable agony with no relief or respite. The leather fell from her teeth but it didn't stop.

Why wasn't he there? His gentle hands to sooth her hot brow? "Please get him." She managed to whine, nails digging grooves into Thorin's hand.

"Who?" Bilbo asked.

Who? Who else could she possibly want? "Aragorn, please-" A scream tore out of her throat.

"Oin, can you not be more gentle!" Thorin snapped.

"I'm bein' as gentle as I can be!"

"Get Aragorn, please get him." She begged. She needed him there.

"Keep her still!" Oin cried. "She's makin' it worse on herself."

"I don't think she can help it much." Bilbo argued. Sweat ran into her eyes and he pressed a damp cloth to her forehead.

"Please, he'll come, just send-"

Bilbo grimaced as she screamed, calling Aragorn's name again. "He's not here, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Thorin held tight to her hand. "Seeing him again is what awaits you at the end of this, but you must hold strong, Josephine."

"Surely there is something we could give her." Bilbo complained. "What about that flask of Gandalf's?"

"We must keep what little is left in the case the fever worsens." Thorin explained. "And I fear it would make no difference to her pain now."

Whimpers and cries crawled from her lips without restraint or notice. It was the last she knew before the darkness finally took her.

>>><<<

Aragorn woke with a start, her voice echoing in his head, screaming and begging for him. Sweat soaked him through and his mouth was bone dry. He knew it was a dream, but he couldn't help but imagine it had been born of real suffering.

He stumbled out into their sitting room, lighting a candle and leaning over their breakfast table, now perpetually covered in maps. Marked on them was her path, each day accounted for. He stared at the dark line leading out of Goblin Town. It had been mere hours since they should have left those halls.

Her screams replayed over and over and he pinched his eyes shut.

Just a dream. That was all.

But dream or no, Aragorn wouldn't sleep again that night.

>>><<<

Josephine cracked open her dry eyes to daylight and the light sound of Bilbo's voice going through name after name. Second cousins four times removed, fourth cousins, people twice removed, and so on.

Laying along her side an orange tabby purred heavily, one paw resting on her arm as it dozed.

Bilbo leaned down into view and smiled. "Good morning! Or, afternoon I suppose. How are you feeling?"

She tried to answer but her mouth was dry and her throat too sore.

Bilbo noticed and jumped to his feet. He held a bowl to her lips and she drank, expecting water but finding sweet, heavy milk with honey. Beorn's house! That's where they were!

The thick cream coated her throat and she experimentally tried to answer his question. "Terrible. What day is it?"

"The twenty-first of July I believe."

They had to leave tomorrow.

Her body was sore and stiff, but there were bandages wrapped around her chest and shoulders, hidden under an oversized shirt that must have been a spare of one of the dwarves'.

Bracing her hands she pushed herself inch by inch up to her knees. Bilbo reached frantically and tried to support her as best he could.

"You shouldn't be up just yet." He said nervously. "If Thorin sees you like this he'll have a fit."

"Thorin will just be happy to see me up so we can leave sooner." She grumbled, taking a steadying breath as she got her wits about her.

Bilbo scoffed. "Hardly. Do you not remember anything from last night?"

"I'm having the impression from how I feel that I might not want to."

"Well, " Bilbo huffed. "You had quite the time of it. Thorin didn't leave your side till dawn.

Now it was her turn to scoff. "Uhuh. Probably hoping I'd let some future knowledge slip before I bit the dust."

"Think what you like, but in my opinion he was genuinely concerned. As worried as the rest of us at least."

Josephine knew he had that side to him, buried somewhere, she'd just given up on being on the receiving end of it. Maybe almost dying was the real trick then.

Bilbo had something else on his mind and he seemed hesitant to broach it, but finally he just asked. "Aragorn, is that your husband's name?"

Josephine froze, he shouldn't know that name. "What did I say last night?"

"Nothing!" Bilbo assured her. "But you were calling out for him is all."

Thank god. She could've let slip anything and ruined everything.

Bilbo was quick to change the subject after that. "Are you hungry? You haven't eaten in days."

She hadn't been until he mentioned it and her stomach growled. "I could eat."

"Right. Stay right there, I'll be back. Don't get up! No need to overdo it!"

He disappeared out the back door and she reached for the frame of the alcove. Gripping it she pulled her legs over the edge of the bed, got her bearings, and then let her feet slip onto the floor. Since standing seemed to work well enough with only a minor headrush, she tried taking a step. When that worked, she took another. She made her way all the way to the back door and then realized the table was gone. When she stepped outside she realized why.

The table was sitting on the grass, benches and all, surrounded by the dwarves and Gandalf while Beorn poured from a huge pitcher.

Bofur caught sight of her first and gave a cheer.

Bilbo poked his head around the benches and frowned at her. "I told you to stay put." He said sternly.

"Needed to stretch my legs." She excused.

Kili jumped down and offered his arm, helping her into his vacated seat. From the head of the table Thorin caught her eye. She nodded back and turned to the bowl of broth Bilbo sat down in front of her.

"How are you feeling?" Ori asked beside her.

"Better than I'd expect."

"Up already." Beorn's booming voice chimed in. "Your companion is strong, Gandalf."

He loomed over them, making her feel like a dwarf in comparison. "Well met." She said politely, trying to be extra aware of what he would find appropriate for the situation. She was fairly sure she'd ended up commandeering his bed the night before. "Thank you for your hospitality."

Beorn harrumphed, given he'd had little say in the matter. But he did fill a fresh mug with milk, plucked something from his garden that he added to it, and then set the mug in front of her. "Drink. It will help restore your strength."

He walked away without waiting to see if she'd do what he said. It was more milk and honey, but it took her a moment to place what he'd put in it. Athelas. Of course.

"How much do you remember?" Kili asked.

"Ask me tomorrow." Honestly she couldn't say. It was all a blur after the stone giants. She didn't know what was hers, what came from the movie, or what was a straight up hallucination.

"Well ye told the great goblin to go fuck 'imself, I know I won't be forgettin' that anytime soon." Bofur said impressively.

"Sounds like me." She agreed, feeling an uneasiness creep in as it pulled parts of things into place.

That set the company off and they began, in great and occasionally differing detail, to recount what happened starting with Gandalf's rescue. Their animated telling was light hearted but it wound around and through what she knew and remembered.

Her appetite left her and she set down her spoon.

"Quiet!" Thorin eventually snapped as they grew louder.

The company fell silent, shifting awkwardly in their seats.

"Now is not the time for such tales. Lady Josephine has not yet regained her strength."

"Sorry, Miss Josephine." Ori said sheepishly, having been the one to yell out earlier how they'd nearly been chased down by orcs while she was unconscious.

"It's alright. I'm sure it's an exciting story." One that made her queasy to hear.

Beorn put his two cents in, having been listening the whole time. "She needs sleep more than company. You should only wake her for food and drink."

Thorin waved Bilbo off and got up to help her down from the bench himself. She felt more shaky than earlier and there was an undercurrent of fear she couldn't quit push away.

Thorin escorted her back inside and she realized as they came to the bed, that on top of Beorn's quilt it had been made up almost entirely of the cloaks and coats of several members of the company, including Thorin's.

"Are you still in much pain?" He asked, taking hold of her elbow to steady her as she used a round of firewood to climb back up.

"I'll manage." Begging and sobbing to Thorin all night from the sound of it, she felt the need to put on a braver face. She could see half moon shaped cuts on his hand from where her nails had bit into his skin.

"That is not what I asked."

"I'll be ready to travel tomorrow, pain or no pain." She eased down onto her side, letting out a heavy breath when her body finally relaxed.

"Also, not what I asked."

She was tired, she was off her game, and she had no patience for playing games with him. "What the fuck is your deal, Thorin? Yes, I'm in pain. Quite a bit, actually. But we have to keep moving because this damn quest is more important."

"Does it truly matter how we reach the mountain so long as we do it by Durin's Day? Surely we lost more time in those caves than we saved."

"It's not just about the damn timing! Things happen with every step we take that leave marks on what's going to happen decades from now and that shit hole goblin town was more important than you may ever know. It might've even been the most important part of this entire quest in the grand scheme of things. So please, please stop asking me why I had to take that risk."

He sighed, pausing in his questioning to pull his coat over her, careful of her bandages. "I am sorry. You have certainly paid the price for this thing, many times over."

Josephine saw him turn to leave and softened, calling him back. "You've been griping about me being a burden since the Shire and now you're tucking me into bed, what's really going on?"

A hint of shame came to his eyes and he hesitated. "You proved your character on that platform, Lady Josephine. I regret that it took such a thing to make me see it. I was wrong. About both you and Mr. Baggins."

A full apology hadn't been what she'd expected. Piggybacking onto Thorin's good side along with Bilbo was about the only bright side she could pick out from what happened. "Bilbo saved you from the orcs then? I'm guessing. I don't really remember firsthand."

"He did, though I too only remember some of that fight."

"Hurrah physical and psychological trauma." She drawled sarcastically, feeling her limbs getting heavier as the exertion from her trip outside caught up to her.

He smiled at her wry joke and adjusted his coat to make sure she was warm enough. "Take rest, if you are well enough by morning we will depart."

"We've gotta go no matter what."

"We will see what dawn brings. Sleep, child."

That was at least the second time she remembered him calling her that and she was beginning to wonder if he knew how humans aged. "You know I'm like, a third of the way through a normal life cycle of men, right?"

"To a dwarf of nearly two hundred, you are barely into your adolescence. A child, by all accounts."

"I'm an adult as far as men go, old man." She hadn't remembered his age, granted she knew he was old but she'd guessed somewhere a bit further from two hundred. Small unimportant oversight. Her eyes slipped shut as the call of her pillow got stronger, but she wasn't finished. "And we're all infants by elven standards so I think this argument is useless."

"I think you are right, Josephine." He chuckled lightly. "I will take my leave, Mr. Baggins will no doubt be in soon to sit with you."

She heard his heavy footfalls leave the house and didn't hear Bilbo's enter, but she was lulled off to sleep by his voice as he continued whatever family tree he'd been in the midst of explaining when she'd woken.

Chapter Text

Beorn's advice had been taken to heart by the dwarves. She slept like a rock, got woken several more times to eat increasingly heavy meals paired with more milk and honey, and went straight back to sleep each time. This continued even through the night with the dwarves trading off on the responsibility. By dawn she still felt an undercurrent of unsettledness but at least part of her was beginning to feel more like herself.

The house was empty, aside from the usual animals and the orange tabby that wandered lazily around the bed as she carefully got up again. Her legs were sturdy enough, if still sore. She wasn't exactly excited about the range of motion she had in her arms, but she wasn't going to test the bandages and find out how impaired she still was without their support.

At the foot of the bed was a folded stack of clothes, hers minus her tunic which had probably been beyond repair. Josephine flipped through the stack to see what was left after their flight and was excited to see that in the escape they'd still grabbed her coat, though her mask was long gone from the look of it.

Under her coat her fingers brushed the next fold and she paused, smiling as she pulled it out and laid it open. Her cloak had survived, its elven cloth no more than snagged in some places. But it was heavily stained, whole swathes of the brown had turned rusty and more of it was stained than whole. She had a feeling the cloak had traveled with her from the mountain as more of a lifesaver than a memento.

Her pack was gone, and as she started to take inventory of what she lost, she froze, looking around the bed and the area around it frantically. Her weapons, where were her weapons?

It didn't take her more than a second to find them, her entire sword belt was laying up against the wall by the bed, but for that second she was looking, she'd panicked. If she'd lost Aragorn's knife…She would've lost the only part of him she had.

Bracing herself against the wall she leaned down, careful to keep her back straight, and picked up her weapons. She set those too, on the bed, and put her hand on the scabbard of the knife. "Just one more disarming adventure and then I'm never taking you off again." She grumbled. "Legolas better not confiscate you like he does Orcrist."

Was she super excited about seeing Legolas in Mirkwood? Well, it would be nice to see another familiar face. But Hobbit Legolas was a dick and she was already tired enough from dealing with grumpy dwarves all the time.

With a determined sigh she looked at everything in front of her and started making some decisions. The oversized dwarf shirt she'd been wearing she tucked into the top of her pants to try and contain it to some degree, then grabbed her sword belt to buckle it on. As she twisted to swing it around she had to slow down, hissing as the bandages pulled and wondering how the hell even just setting her belt against them could hurt so bad.

Sure, she couldn't really fight yet, but she wouldn't have to until the spiders. But she did need to be able to wear her sword belt to inspire some confidence in the company that they could move on.

Setting it back down, she untucked her shirt (which somehow reached down to almost her knees) and began to fold it up until it sat right where her belt would go. Some finagling later, and she was gently tying it. It was uncomfortable, but the extra padding was enough to make it bearable. Besides, they'd be riding the whole way to Mirkwood, that was at least a few more days to recover.

She checked her reflection in the bucket of water by the hearth and smoothed her hand over her hair, woven in a braid she certainly hadn't done, and the bead she'd kept tucked out of sight up till then was proudly strung through a strand in full view of the world. She wondered if Gloin or anyone else had noticed its exact twin in his beard yet.

Her eyes were still darker than she liked as far as inspiring confidence went, but she was up and around and ready to go…mostly.

Outside she found the table only half occupied, with Thorin off in the distance speaking with Beorn and Gandalf. Dwalin grinned at her somewhat proudly and patted the bench next to him. He gave her a hand up, then started piling food on her plate. As she nibbled, she nodded towards Thorin and the others.

"He gonna let us leave today like I told him?"

"Thorin is anxious to go. But he is not fond of you traveling in your condition." He took a heavy swig from his mug and burped. "In a day or two more, perhaps, we will leave."

Typical. She was on his good side and she was still going to have to fight him over their schedule.

Wiping her hands on her pants she got back down, trying to hold a sturdy gait as she crossed the lawn. It was the first time she'd gotten a real good look at it and she was beginning to hate that they couldn't stay long.

A large, shaggy gray dog jogged over to her and licked her hand before falling in step. She scratched its head as they walked and began to wonder why she'd never gotten around to adopting a couple dogs back in Gondor.

"Good morning." She called as she came up to them.

They all three fell silent and Gandalf smiled at her. "Ah, wonderful to see you up, my dear."

"Is it true? Dwalin says we're not going to leave for another day or two?" Sure they'd spend plenty of time bumming around in Thranduil's halls, but things had to happen correctly before that so they would just end up being eaten by spiders or something first.

Thorin looked at her with a cautious expression, clearly hoping to talk her into it without much of a fight. "With your wounds, riding will not be easy."

"You know what's harder? Getting to Erebor before Durin's Day when people keep trying to argue with you over the schedule. Besides, I'm sure Beorn doesn't want guests any longer than necessary." She looked up at him, having to crane her neck and hoping he'd agree with her.

"You are right." He said gruffly. "But I have seen your wounds, your journey will be unpleasant."

"I'll live, but we really have to leave by this afternoon." She caught Thorin's eye. "Please don't make me fight you over this. If we had time to stay I'd be all for it, trust me."

He wasn't happy, but he wasn't arguing back at her either and Josephine waited, hoping. With a frown, he nodded and glanced up at Gandalf. "As our Lady Seer commands. We will depart before nightfall." Taking his leave of them he went to Dwalin, likely to discuss plans for their journey.

Josephine raised an eyebrow and glanced down at the dog who was still standing at her side, leaning into her hip. "How hard did he hit his head back in that forest, huh? He's almost agreeable now."

"He said you would set off without them if he tried to go against your wishes." Beorn explained.

"It would get them to come after me and get their asses in gear." She agreed, though she hadn't gotten as far as planning what she'd do if arguing didn't work.

"You have strange companions, Gandalf." He looked towards the house and then south, towards their path to Mirkwood. "I will gather supplies for your journey."

Josephine and Gandalf watched him lumber off before he turned to her, leaning on his staff and looking worried.

"Are you certain you are ready to travel?"

He was scrutinizing with his gaze and Josephine was feeling very transparent under it. At least Gandalf was more attune to working towards the greater good than some of the dwarves would be regarding her injuries, but she really hoped she could be more honest with him without it getting back to the company.

"Okay fine, I feel like shit warmed over. But what am I supposed to do? Hang around here for two more days, put us behind schedule, set our timeline off so we don't hit our milestones at the right time? There's not really another option here. And I can't reorganize things and go with you to the High Fells instead, you'll be away too long."

"Oh will I indeed." He said, somewhat annoyed. Probably because his secret mission wasn't so secret, at least to her.

"I'm not doing this to try to prove some point about keeping up with the company, that's what I'm getting at." She clarified. "It's leave today or else god knows what'll happen. And trust me, I'm already really not looking forward to what's supposed to happen as it is."

"I do trust you, Lady Josephine. You have yet to lead us astray as far as I have been able to tell. Though our journey through the mountain is still somewhat a mystery to me as to its use. But I imagine that is something I will discover with time, hm?"

He squinted at her with a knowing smirk and she smiled back wearily. "Oh you'll figure it out eventually."

They walked back towards the house together, the dog still glued to her side. The dwarves were swarming like ants trying to get everything together within the next few hours. Thorin, who was sitting on a round of wood, looked up as he sharpened his sword. "Beorn is waiting for you inside. He is going to change your bandages before we leave. Once he is finished you will rest until we depart."

Josephine hid the fact that laying back down again for a bit sounded ideal and just nodded, pretending to bristle a little at the order. "Oh goody. I'll be inside then."

Beorn was tearing soft light cloth into strips when she got inside. He had a continual air of grumpiness about him and she had a feeling he was counting the minutes before he had his house back. If she were him, she knew she'd be feeling the same way.

"Sit down, face the wall."

He motioned to the alcove where the dwarves' coats still made up her bed. Now that she was a bit more aware of things, their concern warmed her heart. It was a lot like how she'd felt when she'd realized the fellowship was full of people who were truly her friends, not just the embodiments of a story where she didn't belong.

She took off her sword belt, immediately relieved at the loss of weight and pressure. Setting it to the side she sat down on the bed and folded her legs under her while she listened to Beorn work behind her.

"I will have to take this off." He said, plucking gently as the excess fabric on her shirt. "I will try to work quickly, I know of your kind's discomfort with such things."

After getting the wound in her leg and knowing the healers that had saved her life at Morannon had probably seen all her bits and pieces multiple times before Ciril showed up, Josephine wasn't as bothered by it as she used to be. Something about horrible life threatening injuries had made her apathetic to the various forms of undress she had to go through to not die.

"I've dealt with worse, but I do appreciate your discretion."

With permission he helped her out of the shirt and set it aside, then began to untie and untuck the ends of her bandages. They wound around and around and around her chest, stomach, and shoulders. It was practically another shirt all on its own. Once it was gone she moved her shoulders experimentally and regretted everything.

"Fuck that's bad." She didn't try to cover her reaction. Beorn wasn't going to be one who would make them stay, and if he was tending to her she wouldn't be able to hide it much from him anyway.

Like it had been listening in on what was happening, the orange tabby hopped up onto the bed and nudged its head under her hands for attention and a distraction.

"You have come far in a short time, but your road is still long." He wrung out a cloth and began to wash the wounds.

The water was cold and steeped with more Athelas, something she was planning on asking for as big of a supply as he could give her. He reached a partially sensitive portion and she jumped.

"Steady."

He wasn't a big talker, and Josephine was grateful. It took enough concentration to stay quiet and still while he worked, there wasn't enough left to have a conversation. She had a hunch he knew that too, and was potentially even staying silent on purpose.

Her theory was supported as he began to apply a salve that tingled and seemed to slightly numb the wounds. That was when he finally spoke again.

"I will send you with bandages and salves. Use them sparingly so they will last until the wounds close." He paused so long after that, that she thought he was done, but then he continued. "The pain will last far longer."

Comforting. "How long do you think?"

He was quiet for a moment. "I have seen it last many months."

Josephine frowned, he'd seen it? There weren't scars on his back from lashes, what did he know about… "Your people?" The ones who had been imprisoned, he'd been there. He still had one shackle bound to his wrist, which she could see as he reached around her to start wrapping the new bandage.

He grunted and then went silent, a silence she wasn't willing to break. The job was done quickly and with more gentleness than she'd expected from him. He scooped the old bandages up in one hand and left without a word after slipping the shirt back over her head.

Already one step ahead of her, the cat nestled down into the furs on the collar of Fili's coat for a nap and Josephine followed suit, bunching her cloak up under her head.

"I guess I should be thanking you for your help too, huh?"

The cat chirped and rolled onto its back, finding the one sliver of sunshine hitting the bed to fall asleep in.

Chapter Text

Southern Gondor was hot and dry, except directly by the coast where it was hot and humid. The wind coming off the sea was thick with salt and when she laid out on blankets on the sand, Josephine felt like a lizard trying to soak it all in.

Northward, they could just see the tips of Dol Amroth around the hills, but their camp was far out of sight of anyone except the soldiers that accompanied them. The strategically placed umbrellas blocked their blanket from view of the camp and they'd made sure to set up well out of earshot so they'd feel like they had some privacy.

With the War a year over now, Southern Gondor had been quiet. Aragorn's pardoning of the Southrons who's land met at their southern border, had kept a tense but amicable peace between their countries. Despite that, Anduril still sat with their things on the blanket beside her and she was still within a hand reach of her sword. Their world, safe from war now or not, still wasn't one either of them walked around in unarmed.

There was a reason Halbarad shadowed her steps, why traveling without guards wasn't even a consideration. Josephine still hadn't gotten used to that aspect of her station yet. It was comforting back in the day, but the longer she spent settling in the more she missed her old independence. Now any journey came with a multitude of plans, contingencies for danger, and a ridiculous amount of planning on the part of Ciril who seemed to know more about what was expected of her than she did.

The long awaited honeymoon slash royal tour of Southern Gondor had been as far away from an exception to those rules than anything else. The ship, the servants, the soldiers. Then the feasts and the introductions and the dances. She couldn't deny the thrill of seeing more of Middle-Earth and while she loathed parts of the formal events, each feast led to Aragorn's hand in hers as he led her around the dances they'd spent so many hours practicing. Now that they'd gotten more familiar with them, they were able to spend less time remembering the steps and more time enjoying each other's company.

At the end of the day, for all the parts of it she might have disliked, they were rarely more than annoyances. The privilege of their place in the world was immense, greater than almost anyone in Middle-Earth. For the rest of her life she'd live in comfort, without worrying about food or warmth or money. They'd been in a deluge of official events for days, but once it had come to their scheduled time away, they'd had to do nothing to make it happen.

Josephine couldn't believe she'd been so lucky.

It would've been enough to have him, crown or no. She would have stayed even if his story had actually ended with him abdicating the throne and them living simply and quietly. It wouldn't have mattered to her where.

But it didn't end that way. She was given him, and given a life where she would be safe and comfortable and able to pursue the rebuilding of their kingdom from its ruined foundations.

It felt like more luck than she deserved.

And for what felt like the hundredth time, that's what she wrote in the leather-bound journal on her lap. Recording things seemed like a duty now, without computers and ballpoint pens to give everyone and anyone the ability to track history. Somebody needed to record things about her life, it might as well come from the horse's mouth.

Aragorn was on his back beside her, more of a lizard in the sun than she was. She thought he was asleep until she felt his hand brush down her back with a limp sort of laziness. When she turned to him his eyes were still closed but his lips were set in a content smile.

Setting the book and quill aside she capped the inkwell and leaned down on her elbow, resting her hand on his bare chest. "Yes, my love?"

This made his smile grow into a smirk and the hand he'd used to get her attention found a home stroking her hair. "Of what do you write today?"

"The same as always." She did find herself revisiting certain things on a frequent basis. "I think it helps me sort things out a little better each time. Writing things out came highly recommended for one's peace of mind back home."

"Mmm." He hummed. "I am pleased it brings you comfort."

He was, she could tell that much, but he was leading towards something and playing with her to get there. "But?" She asked with a raised eyebrow, not that he could see it, he seemed to refuse to open his eyes and disturb his dozing until he had to.

"But," He continued. "I find myself unable to rest, for that which brings me comfort is preoccupied with her work."

Josephine laughed. "You were asleep."

"For a time." He finally opened his eyes and slowly rolled towards her, encouraging her to end up underneath him on the blanket. He kissed her slowly, drawing her into him with a hand on the small of her back. "And in that time I came to miss you."

Josephine couldn't care less about the sentence she'd stopped in the middle of in her book. There wasn't a thing she could be doing right now that she'd mind him interrupting. "Well we can't let that stand." She added on as she drew him back in to kiss her again. "What will soothe your heart?"

"My name on your lips," He began as he kissed her neck. "as if it is the only name you know, the only word you can find." As his lips paused at her collar bone his hand took up the journey towards the hem of her skirt. "And then your name will come to mine, the only name I shall ever bear in my heart."

She gasped as his hand found where it was leading and with the ocean as their only witness, Aragorn was given what he asked.

>>><<<

Beorn had given them supplies and as many ponies as he could spare to see them to the edge of Mirkwood, but several of the company still had to double up and Josephine was back to sharing Gandalf's horse. It was probably better for her that way anyway, then she could put her energy towards bearing the ride and holding onto him instead of managing the horse herself.

Her pack was strapped to Oin's pony and her weapons had become a point of contention between her and Thorin, who'd strapped them to his saddle.

He was, rightly so, worried about her having to carry the weight and it shifting constantly throughout the day while they rode.

She was, also rightly so, worried about not having a weapon near her if orcs showed up.

The compromise ended with her sword still hanging from his saddle, while Aragorn's knife was strapped to the saddlebag right behind her right thigh where it wouldn't get in the way.

It was something at least, and it wasn't as if she had the range of motion to even draw her sword much less use it if they were attacked.

Beorn saw them off, but Josephine had the feeling they were only saying goodbye to his human form. The ride began well enough, it was certainly uncomfortable but not something she couldn't stand. But as the day wore on it crept from uncomfortable to a droning ache that made her arms go numb. When Gandalf noticed he called for a rest, not giving a reason, it wasn't like the company couldn't figure it out.

Breathing easier now that they'd come to a stop, she glanced up at the sun and frowned. They'd barely been riding for two hours. Unless the ponies needed a rest, which given they were Beorn's and were strong enough to bear two dwarves at a time she didn't think they did, they weren't making good time. "We're trying to outrun wargs and stay on schedule, we can't stop every two hours."

"Nor can we have you worsening. We will keep to both your strength and our speed as best we can."

Kili appeared at her right and held out his hand. "Lady Josephine, come down and rest for a bit now."

Sat in the shade with a waterskin she chewed on a piece of willow bark until Thorin decided they'd stopped long enough and had to keep moving. This time she sat in front of Gandalf, potentially more uncomfortable, but braced against his chest she wasn't going to fall off if she passed out either. Another compromise between her condition and their urgency.

It was going to be several very, very long days.

Chapter Text

Their second day of travel was about the same as the day before, except the ache in her body started up almost as soon as they began riding again. Hell, she was almost looking forward to having to walk again, despite how tiring it might end up and the fact that it would be taking place inside what was probably the worst forest in all of Middle-Earth to traverse. At least the Old Forest had Tom Bombadil to watch over it…maybe. The Hobbits had never mentioned him, she wondered if he existed in her iteration.

Riding in front of Gandalf had ended up being the better choice and he was more lenient with her condition than the dwarves were when she was in view. Josephine appreciated Gandalf's discretion but even he had his limits and they stopped once more on the first day before night fell.

She felt like she was stuck in a battle between feeling stronger as she put days between her and Goblin Town, and having that strength sapped by travel. It was like a tug of war where she was, in some ways feeling better, and in others feeling wrecked and trying not to show it. More than once she fell asleep against Gandalf's shoulder and wished she could just sleep through the rest of their trip for good measure if it weren't for what lurked in her dreams.

But it was no use, even if she found a rhythm with the gait of the horse there was only so much they could do. Had she been home, Aragorn would have had her relegated to bed rest for the next week at least and she would've fought him tooth and nail for it. Now she would've given anything for that kind of privilege.

"Josephine…" He would've sighed every time he found her up.

Then she would say, "I needed to stretch my legs, my ass was going numb."

He would've shaken his head and led her back to their bed, seeing to every pillow and blanket until she was cradled and comfortable. Then the stories would start and his voice would follow her into sleep, a reminder that she was safe.

When she got home, she'd do whatever he asked, bed rest for as long as he thought necessary. She'd let him hover and fuss and cover her in salves until every bruise and scratch was healed.

Somewhere while she was musing on it all, her eyes had slipped shut. When they opened again, the movement had stopped and Thorin's face filled her vision, surrounded by a halo of bright blue sky.

>>><<<

"I was asleep!" She defended, sitting up now while he stood in front of her and the company waited several yards away with the grazing ponies. She'd been sleeping just like she had been, off and on, for the past day and a half while they rode.

"And you often sleep so deeply that you can be pulled from your horse and not hear us calling your name for minutes at a time? I agreed to leave when we did against my better judgment and now I regret my actions."

Okay so he was right about that, that didn't sound like sleep that sounded like straight up unconsciousness. "What choice did we have?!'

"I think perhaps our schedule is not as dire as you may think. One day more at Beorn's may have been enough for this journey to not tax you so."

"I'll manage!" What choice did she have at that point? It wasn't like they could go back now.

"Clearly not!" He bellowed, then seemed to catch himself and pull back his tone. "Now, instead of remaining in relative security within Beorn's walls, I am forced to weigh your limits against our safety." Beginning to pace, he continued. "You may bear wisdom beyond all of us, but you are young and desperate for things to happen as you have seen. Instead of trusting yourself to correct what changes, you have dragged yourself on as if you had never entered that mountain."

"What am I supposed to do? Risk us getting eaten by spiders in Mirkwood because we're two days late and our window of escape is long gone? Fat lot of good me getting a bit more rest will do when they're liquifying my insides!"

Crossing his arms he stopped and glared at her. "We will travel no more this day."

"Oh come on, Thorin."

"It is not up for discussion unless you can offer me a clear reason beyond the dangers of the forest why we cannot delay."

Her frustration built to its breaking point and she yelled at him, loud enough that it drew the attention of the rest of the company who before, had been out of earshot. "Because the last time we were off our mark I was fucking flogged!"

Josephine hadn't fully realized why she'd held on so tightly to leaving when they did. She told herself it was important, the timeline was delicate despite how sticking to it for Mirkwood was a guess and a hope more than a concrete plan. They could still escape Thranduil during the feast regardless of them being captured a few days later than anticipated. Somewhere in the back of her mind there was a danger to deviating that she hadn't put her finger on, and now it made more sense and she felt foolish.

As time went on, her memories of those days underground came back to her and closed around her throat like a hand, urging her on and on. Further from the mountain, further from any chance of being late. She needed to run and the bruises on her wrists were a testament to how curtailed that had been.

Thorin's face fell and his shoulders softened as he started to understand. He kneeled down in front of her and gently placed his hand on her shoulder. "Many times you have asked for my trust, Josephine. Will you not now give me yours?"

In the blink of an eye she'd gone from those tunnels and that chamber to the wilds and it felt like a part of her mind had stayed behind, still bound in the ropes that had held her in place while the stories of goblins and their captives came alive in every nerve of her body.

"Cause that worked out so well for me when I was waiting for someone to intervene BEFORE they started torturing me! You talked a big talk while they were stringing me up and then you just fucking WATCHED!" She yelled in his face, furious at his inaction when he'd managed to stop it well enough after they'd beaten her within an inch of her life.

His hand snapped open and he drew it back from her shoulder, head low as he shrank away. "I had to wager intervening with the possibility that they would kill you outright to punish such an action. I know not if my inaction was the best choice. But now I might come to see you again at your husband's side with my nephews at mine, instead of bearing to him the news of your death. That is what I must take from this."

Josephine knew it was what she would have wanted too, if she'd had the choice. Even this was better than death, better than never going home. Anger was just so much easier to bear than giving space to the helplessness that was becoming more bitter and potent as her mind pieced together her memories. 'Should've' was a mindfuck, she knew that. She also remembered him standing between her and the Goblin King, arguing her release and Nori's exuberant reenactment of how Thorin had shoved the goblin with the whip so hard it had rolled off the platform into the chasm below. He'd done far from nothing.

"I am sorry, Josephine." Hesitantly he returned his hand to her shoulder. "But you cannot continue at such a pace. Running to the forest will not banish the dark dreams that come while you sleep. Nor will distance make the memories fade."

She covered her quivering mouth with her hand, frustrated with herself for her volatility and the tears that seemed to burn in her eyes at the drop of a hat ever since they'd stepped foot in Rivendell. "I'm sorry too." She said quietly. "You didn't stand by and do nothing."

She glanced over at the groups who were all watching what was happening. Fourteen pairs of eyes staring at her as she yelled at Thorin and then proceeded to start crying. Again. Fantastic.

Thorin followed her gaze and frowned, shifting to block their view. "I beg your honesty when I ask how you fare." He caught her eye and smiled at her with sympathy, like he was trying to put her at ease again. "It is no small thing, what happened. Do not treat it as such."

"But that's so much easier," she hiccupped and rubbed her eyes. "Than actually dealing with it."

He looked away and dropped his chin with a shake of his head, but came up still smiling. "I do hope you are joking."

"How else am I supposed to relieve all this tension if not with humor?" She explained, shakily trying to relax her breathing so it stopped sending twinges through her shoulders.

"Since we have no ale and you are too wounded to fight, I will defer to your methods." He chuckled. Then, sobering he brought them back to the task at hand. "Now may we start again? How do you fare?"

"Like death warmed over." She answered honestly. It was a relief to say it, though she tried not to think about how it would enforce Thorin's earlier order that they were done traveling barely an hour after midday. Josephine had a distinct feeling that passing out while they rode meant she didn't have a say anymore, no matter how much she argued about her passable health. "I feel like shit and all I want to do is lay down."

"That request I can grant." He stood and laid his coat out on the grass beside her.

Josephine sighed the second her head rested on the fur collar, wondering how something as simple as going from sitting to lying could make such a difference in how she felt.

Thorin's face turned hard again as he got up and walked towards the company, barking orders for them to set up camp.

Was she making a terrible mistake by surrendering to his decision? There was a chance, though she was afraid to risk it, that a day or two wouldn't cause a problem in the grand scheme of things. There would've been far worse times to take a pause. In the books the elves were tailing them for hours if not days before they were captured. She could only hope it was more a matter of being nearby than being in a certain place at a certain time.

But even she was starting to agree there wasn't another option. Doubt crept into her mind hour by hour about how she was going to manage the next day and then the next after that, and then the long hike through Mirkwood. She hadn't anticipated doing some of journey without being physically sound and Mirkwood was going to be more difficult to travel through than any other part of their trip…well, aside from maybe the river but she'd think about that another day.

Her bed had both literally and figuratively been made for her and now it was her job to lie in it.

Chapter Text

Josephine was so comforted by the light coming through the windows of their chambers she dared not question it. Not the ever present scent of lavender on her pillows or the soft sound of his breathing next to her. She had the sense that she'd just been through something quite trying, but she couldn't remember what it was. Or maybe she had decided she wouldn't remember it, not then. Not there. Not yet.

It didn't matter where she'd come from, or what she'd done. His fingers carded through her hair repeatedly, lulling her almost to sleep, but she didn't dare let go of the moment.

Sighing his name she turned her head to the side and met his eyes, knit with concern but soft and full of love.

"Yes, meleth nin, I am here." He said quietly.

Her arm felt heavy as she reached for him, touching his face and his hair like she was recalling a memory long forgotten. "You've been so far away." No, that wasn't right, he was still where he belonged, it was her. "I've been so far away."

"Far." He agreed, fingers still stroking her hair. "But not alone."

No, she had Bilbo, and the dwarves. The Company! It came back in a rush, the quest and the mountain. The caves and the goblins.

"Sidh, Josephine." Aragorn soothed with his free hand reaching to grasp hers. "Rest now. You have seen much and must give it time to pass."

"There isn't time." She argued, sitting up with an excessive amount of effort. "We have to get to Mirkwood."

Aragorn grasped her by the shoulders and lowered her back onto the bed, getting no resistance from her as she realized it was a feat that she'd even gotten upright to begin with. "Entering Mirkwood as you are now will do naught but make the crossing more perilous." His hand went back to stroking her hair. "Rest, Josephine. Rest."

The bedchamber began to fade and as his voice slipped away she reached for him, but there was nothing to grasp. He was gone again, like smoke through her fingers, and Josephine opened her eyes to the warm glow of a campfire and Bilbo's voice above her.

"-of my mother, Bullroarer Took, well, Bandobras Took but nobody calls him that. Anyway…"

Josephine's head was laying in his lap and he was stroking her hair, going back to his tried and true way of trying to comfort her, by going on about his lengthy family history. She was beginning to think he'd started repeating himself to keep it going but having been unconscious for a lot of it, she couldn't tell.

The sun had moved since she'd laid down, quite a bit actually. It was early evening at least. Bombur was stirring something over the fire and the ponies grazed freely around the camp. She'd slept for hours.

Aragorn's presence hung around her like a cloak, warm and comforting and it stung nearly as much as it soothed. But the dream was worth the sting of her loss. If she stayed still, didn't move even an inch, maybe it would linger. Around the camp Gloin wove through the dwarves, being handed something from each as he went. Bombur began ladling stew into bowls for Bofur who passed them around. The smell wafted over to them and her stomach growled.

"Josephine," Bilbo said softly, touching her shoulder like he was trying to wake her gently. "Time for supper, come on now."

He took her under the arm and helped her sit up. She took it slow, testing how the aches and pulls in her body fared. The mandated several hours of rest had done some good, the pain was hardly what it had been when she'd fallen asleep earlier that day.

With a bowl in each hand, Bofur supplied the both of them with dinner and she dug into it sloppily, not realizing just how hungry she was. "Didn't Bullroarer invent golf?" She mumbled through a full mouth.

Bilbo smiled at her, not having realized she'd been listening but more than happy to continue. "Swung at a goblin so hard it's head flew clean off!"

"Sent it down a rabbit hole." She finished with a sliver of mirth, heartened by the lighthearted nature of the conversation. "We've got golf where I'm from too, but it didn't have anything to do with goblins. We don't even have goblins where I was born."

"In Gondor?"

"No, no a lot farther than that. But it's not important. I definitely don't think how golf was invented in my land was probably nearly as cool as knocking a goblin head into a hole during battle."

Finishing his rounds around the camp, Gloin came over to them with something clutched in his fist. "What are ye talkin' about goblin heads for, now?"

"Golfing." She answered plainly, popping the last chunk of gamey meat in her bowl into her mouth.

"Well, if ye'r gonna be knockin' their heads 'round, best let me rebraid your hair for ye. It's gettin' a might loose."

She'd barely nodded with permission before he plopped himself down behind her with a groan and stuck his beard comb between his teeth while he undid her hair.

"Alright, palm up." He ordered, opening his own hand and letting several silver beads roll into her open hand. She was counting them when he reached around and set one more in the pile, the one she'd worn since he'd given it to her years ago in Rivendell. She froze, having forgotten to hide it from him.

"I'm hopin' you havin' that in our future doesn't mean ye looted mah corpse."

She almost laughed, constantly surprised by their nonchalance at things she'd thought would be far bigger deals. "Just a gift from an old friend before a journey. But where did these come from?" She thumbed over the other beads and felt eyes on her, the other dwarves kept glancing her way and she started to realize why Gloin had been going to each of them earlier. It had her choking up…again. "Come on guys, I'm too emotionally raw for you to be sweet like this."

Gloin ran the comb through her hair and worked far faster than she'd expected as he was already starting to pluck beads from her hand. "Pipe down, lass, and let me finish." He admonished playfully, not really meaning it.

"Was this your idea?" She accused.

"Ori's, actually." Bofur supplied.

Across the fire, Ori shrank in embarrassment. "Hoped it might cheer you up."

Another bead left her hand and she nodded carefully, trying not to interfere with Gloin's work. "It does, thank you. All of you."

None of them seemed to want to dwell on their good deed for long and Dwalin, who's contribution found its place in her hair next, began to hum quietly. He was conscious of their precariously safe place in the wilds, with the only thing standing between them and orcs being a shapeshifting bear somewhere in the forest around them. His tone stayed low and Balin joined in. The Company didn't sing it, their words weren't safe in the wide world now, but the swells of their song from Bilbo's living room filled the camp.

As Aragorn's presence slipped further and further the longer she was awake, the thrum of their voices washed over like Beorn's salve against her wounds. His words from her dream came back to her and she let them sink in.

Far. But not alone.

>>><<<

They set out the next day, though not early and they kept a slower pace. Oin set her back with a clean dressing and the numbing from the salve made the journey far more bearable than it had been up to that point. Even with that, and the mandated rest, Josephine was still sat behind Thorin on his pony without comment. Apparently Gandalf wasn't keeping a close enough eye on her for his taste.

She hated to admit it to him, but he'd been right. The nearly full day and night of rest had done more than she'd thought it would. An extra day at Beorn's would've been, at least as far as her recovery was concerned, the right choice.

They saw the dark of Mirkwood at least an hour before they reached its edge. When they paused at the gate, Josephine peered around Thorin and shuddered. Fangorn hadn't been the least bit frightening to her, but all it had had in store for her had been Gandalf and maybe an Ent.

She slid down carefully, following Gandalf towards the path. It was eerily quiet, not a single bird or insect made a sound. But there was something else, deeper than that, that came from the trees. Like a hum in her bones, low and unsettling.

"Here lies our path through Mirkwood." Gandalf called back.

"No sign of the orcs." Dwalin said. "We have luck on our side."

Josephine looked up through the branches warily, almost wishing she could go with Gandalf to the High Fells instead.

"Set the ponies loose! Let them return to their master." Gandalf instructed the company, who quickly began to dismount and unpack their gear.

"This forest feels…sick." Bilbo said, creeping towards the entrance where Josephine and Gandalf had just passed. "As if a disease lies upon it. Is there no way around?"

"Not unless we go two hundred miles north, or twice that distance south."

He was distracted, like he was looking for something, and Josephine followed closely. Down steps, towards a statue covered in old vines. He reached up, and quickly pulled them away, freezing the moment he did.

Josephine looked at the red eye painted on the statue and pursed her lips. The darkness was still growing in this time, hidden. Whispers that didn't dare put a name to it even though everyone was already thinking it. A war coming with their only hope sitting in the pocket of the Hobbit behind her.

"You've seen this before." Gandalf said. "But not here."

Hundreds of them, thousands of them, on shields and catapults and helmets. But she couldn't elaborate, so she just nodded.

"The High Fells." He confirmed at her solemn answer. "So be it." They returned to the elven gate and saw the ponies running back towards the mountains. "Not my horse! I need it!"

Bilbo looked disheartened. "You're not leaving us?"

"I would not do this unless I had to." He exchanged a look with Thorin and returned his attention to Bilbo. "You've changed, Bilbo Baggins. You're not the same Hobbit as the one who left the Shire."

"I was going to tell you, I…I found something in the goblin tunnels."

Gandalf could sense something was going on, and Josephine watched the two closely. Mixed in with the hum of the forest she felt something else, something familiar.

"Found what?" Gandalf pressed. "What did you find?"

She wondered if the Ring could tell she recognized it. Just how sentient was Sauron's horcrux anyway? Was she going to have to watch herself around the Ring too? Just to be safe, whether it really worked or not, she tried to impress upon it that it had better keep its grubby little mind games away from her. She had the damn trinket's number.

Bilbo's fingers slipped into his vest pocket and he gave a couple false starts. "My courage." He finally scratched out. His hand dropped to his side and the tension in him slipped away.

"Good. Well, that's good." Gandalf covered up his suspicion and straightened back up. "You'll need it."

He met Josephine's eyes again and she realized she'd been caught staring, only serving to make him more suspicious. But there wasn't time to investigate further and he turned to his horse.

"I'll be waiting for you at the overlook, before the slopes of Erebor. Keep the map and key safe. Do not enter that mountain without me."

They all dispersed their supplies between them, Josephine being handed nothing more than her sword belt while the rest of them shouldered heavy packs. They waited at the edge while Gandalf finished his preparations, none of them prepared to leave him any sooner than necessary.

"This is not the Greenwood of old." He continued to instruct. There is a stream in the woods that carries a dark enchantment. Do not touch the water. Cross only by the stone bridge. The very air of the forest is heavy with illusion. It will seek to enter your mind and lead you astray."

"Lead us astray? What does that mean?" Bilbo asked.

"You must stay on the path, do not leave it. If you do, you'll never find it again." He turned his horse and began riding off the same way the ponies had gone. "No matter what may come, stay on the path!"

And with that, he was gone.

"Come on." Thorin barked. "The sooner we enter this accursed forest, the sooner we'll leave it. Fili, Kili, look after Lady Josephine."

She was ushered to the center of the line of dwarves, sandwiched between the two brothers as they warily crossed into the forest and the sunlight began to grow cold.

They had a long month ahead of them, and Josephine was dreading every moment of it.

Chapter Text

The suffocation of the forest was like a slow boil, starting merely warm and growing into a rolling mess. Day after day they walked, slowly and unsteadily over the broken path, wondering at every turn where the next paving stone was.

The trees were old, and the strange hum she'd felt when they first entered stayed like a drone under her skin. It put her on edge, seeming to be able to seep into her bandages like a solid creature trying to make sure she didn't forget the wounds were there.

With each day she had to stop less for her wounds, but they all had to stop more for the lack of air. The going was slow and arduous and somewhere after two weeks she'd lost count of the days.

But at times, the forest felt familiar somehow. Around the thick trunks and stifling air it was almost like she could hear…

From her place near the center of the group she heard someone call her name.

"This is not your path, Seer Josephine." Galadriel's voice echoed in her head. "If the Dark Lord has not yet returned to Mordor, then there are none to stand in your way."

She stumbled along, trying to look around her to find where Galadriel was hiding but the trees didn't give up her cover.

"Take it."

Something cool was in her palm and Josephine opened her hand fearfully, finding the small gold ring resting against her skin. It faded before her eyes and Galadriel's voice kept on.

"Take it."

"End the War before it begins."

"Take it."

"THIS is why you are here."

"Take it!"

Josephine pinched her eyes shut and planted her feet as her head spun. When she opened them the ring was on her finger and the world rippled around her with white fire. A dark mass lay at her feet, curly hair matted with blood. From far away the dwarves were yelling.

"JOSEPHINE!"

The world snapped back to itself and she blinked to find Kili staring up at her. He snapped his fingers in front of her face and gave her a shake.

"Sorry." She mumbled, not entirely sure what had just happened.

"Are you alright?" He pressed his hand to her forehead. "Not getting feverish again I hope?"

"No, just zoned out a bit. Sorry." A bit. Zoned out? Hardly. Hallucinated? Yes.

Had they not all been feeling a bit out of sorts from the forest, there might have been more time taking to figuring out why she'd spaced out like that, but as soon as she was focused again they kept on.

Josephine had felt the influence of the Ring before, but it hadn't ever made her hallucinate. Was it the forest making her see and hear things? Or…could it have been both? Mirkwood was under Sauron's influence, did the two feed off each other?

None of the dwarves had seemed to have the same experience she'd had, nor did she remember any of them having it in the future. But then again, they didn't know the Ring was there, let alone what it was. Bilbo didn't even know what he had in his pocket, not really.

The hallucination wasn't wrong. Sauron was still in Dol Goldur, miles and miles from Mordor and Mount Doom. The gates would likely still be unmanned…Years of suffering, thousands of lives lost…All of them saved if she just flicked a little trinket into some lava. Maybe that was the real reason she was there after all? Just throw it in, destroy the Ring, and she'd show up back in Gondor.

Then in a second, she realized where her mind was going and slammed on the brakes. That damned Ring was trying it's damndest wasn't it? She took a deep breath, popped her neck, and rolled her shoulders. "Fine you little shit." She mumbled under her breath. "If you're gonna fuck around in my head then you have to deal with the whole package."

It wasn't an ideal solution, and it would be stuck in her head without relief for days, but the Ring fucked around so it was about to find out.

Just low enough to keep her voice engaged and to avoid drawing attention, she started singing to herself. "My milkshakes bring all the boys to the yard and they're like, it's better than yours. Damn right, it's better than yours…"

>>><<<

The days continued to pass and she was starting to wonder if they'd ever get out, if time was really moving at all, until they reached the river and the broken stone bridge.

"We could swim across." Nori suggested as they looked mournfully at the bridge.

"And if you lived, Gandalf would beat you to death with his staff." Josephine told him wryly.

"These vines look sturdy enough!" Kili called from over to their right, getting ready to start trying them out.

"No!" Thorin snapped. "The lightest goes first."

All eyes turned on Bilbo who paled but gave them a light nod. "Right. Won't be but a moment."

He reached for the first vine, took one step, and the whole thing started cracking. Dwalin was barely able to snag Bilbo by the collar before the whole thing broke away and they were left right back where they started.

"Well." She grumbled. "That wasn't supposed to happen." So the movie version wasn't working out so well. Which meant their next option was a nonexistent boat. Fanfuckingtastic.

"I find little comfort in your surprise." Thorin told her.

"Yeah, me neither. Check on the far bank, see if there's a boat tethered anywhere."

"A boat?" Gloin scoffed. "Are ye out of ye'r mind? We would've seen one already."

"Except we all have contact highs from this damn river so we're off our rockers." She argued. "Boat!" she waved her hands like an exasperated mother trying to shoo her children out of the way. "Go! Look!"

They spread out along the bank, peering across the river while she tucked her bottom lip between her teeth and looked fearfully at the broken vines. Two days ago would they have been strong enough to hold them? Had their delay cost them in the forest just like she'd worried?

But then, a couple minutes later, Dori let out a hoot. "I found it!"

A couple hundred feet down the river from the bridge there was a small boat caught on tree roots that were jutting into the water on their side of the river. The frayed end of a rope hung from the prow, pulled loose at some point from the mooring. They were lucky the light current hadn't carried it off beyond their reach.

"Bring it back up to the bridge." Thorin instructed as Dori stepped carefully along the roots to attach a new rope.

Now, if she could just keep Bombur from touching the water…maybe they could make up some of their lost time and avoid any more issues.

Kili shot an arrow trailing another rope into a tree on the opposite bank and Thorin used it to pull him and Bilbo across. Still holding the rope connected to the boat, Dori drew it back. They went over in pairs, her and Fili, then Kili and Ori, and so on until Bombur was the last. No white stag charged through the forest, it was just as still and silent as every day before. Bombur made it to shore with no incident and they continued on.

Day in and day out they started to stumble more than walk. Her ears were muffled like she was underwater but on and on they went. At some point she realized there was no more stone under her boots. The path was gone. It had left them…no…they had left it…

White webs washed out the dark trees around them and her head was swimming.

"Meleth nin…"

Her head snapped to her left and made her dizzy but she knew that voice. "Aragorn?"

"Josephine hiril nin…"

There it was again, this time on her right.

She smiled and reached out to pat the arm of Dwalin who was behind her. "Don't worry…" She droned slowly. "He'll lead us out."

About to step off into the trees on her right, his voice moved and again came from her left.

"This way, Josephine."

Tripping over her own feet she turned to follow, stopped sharply when her arm caught on something.

"There's no one there, lass." Dwalin mumbled, his arm hooked through hers.

Aragorn seemed to disagree. "I'm over here, Josephine. Come to me." He was hidden by the trees, of course Dwalin couldn't see him.

"No, no he'll lead us out of here, he knows these paths." She wrenched her arm free and tripped forward, landing hard on her hands and feet. Her palms stuck to white webs woven thickly over the trunks around her and adrenaline shot through her limbs.

Webs. Webs were bad.

"Dwalin…"

He was already heaving her back to her feet as she stared at the webs.

"We're spies…the flinders…" She shook her head and stumbled over her words as they rushed to get out, the spike in adrenaline was starting to clear her head. "Spiders! Dwalin, we're flies-"

Leaves rustled above them menacingly and Josephine hesitantly looked up. Layer upon layer of webs crossed the branches and between them dark masses skittered. Around them the company wandered, slowly disappearing behind trees and not coming back out. It was quiet, they were gone without a word or scream.

And then her feet came out from under her, her head hit the ground, and there was only darkness.

>>><<<

Josephine woke up again bound in webs and swinging lazily from a tree branch. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to take a deep breath, somehow easier to do from that height than down on the forest floor below. She could hear the spiders around her, moving and spinning and hissing in the darkness.

Nope.

Nope!

Give her orcs. Give her trolls. Hell she'd almost take the Nazgul over spiders. That was one of the bright sides of everything she'd been subjected to during the War. At least she hadn't had to meet Shelob.

But now she was around a dozen of them and maybe if she just didn't look it wouldn't be so bad…

She shuffled her arms around, trying to bend one towards her back to reach the hilt of Aragorn's knife. So confined, the movement pinched the skin on her back and it burned, picking tears in her eyes.

Somewhere in the distance something knocked in the trees, drawing the spiders from their feast. If that was Bilbo they were in luck. If it wasn't…they were probably fucked.

Large bodies moved past her, jostling her where she hung and making her whole body tense up. Never fucking again. Not one foot in this damn forest ever again.

A loud bang came from the forest floor and then it was followed by grunts and grumbles and finally, a friendly voice whispered to her.

"Don't you worry Josephine, I'll have you down in a moment." Bilbo assured her.

Several bits of web were cut and she felt herself sliding down softly onto the musty ground she'd suddenly found an affinity for. The dwarves were tearing through the webs holding them and Bofur's entire hat was still covered and plastered to his head as he worked to free her.

Most of them were starting to run the moment their legs were free and she tried to follow Bofur, but it was too late. The spiders who had gone to investigate the sound were coming back, swarming in uncountable numbers over the ground and the trees.

Josephine drew her sword, hand shaking in a way it hadn't in battle in ages. Her shoulder stretched and pulled at the barely scarred skin, tight and new.

The dwarves yelled and hacked at spider limbs, getting drawn further and further apart as their foes lured them off on their own to capture again.

"Fuck!" She yelped as she narrowly missed the swipe of one of their legs and hacked it off. "WHY SPIDERS, TOLKIEN?" Another spider and another limb gone. "WHY?"

The battle was in pure chaos, everyone was yelling and you couldn't make out what anyone was saying. They couldn't get captured by the elves fast enough she thought as her blade sank into one of too many eyes.

A spider landed between her and the others and pushed her back, trying to separate her like everyone else. Her back ached and burned, making her slow and a leg curled around her knees and pulled her to the ground. She landed hard on her back, falling too fast to brace herself. The pain flared and spots filled her vision only to clear and find one of the spiders snapping towards her face. She kicked up at its abdomen and wrapped her hands around its pincers to try and fend it off.

This fight was going on far longer than she'd thought it was supposed to and she was beginning to wonder if she'd been right all along. Had her rest put them behind? Was Legolas and his hunting party long gone? Did they not make up enough time by not having to carry Bombur?

With the pincers creeping closer and closer to her neck she took a deep breath and let out one desperate scream. "LEGOLAS!"

If he showed up, she'd worry about explaining herself later. If he didn't…it wasn't likely to matter.

Not in the position to expect she'd get help anytime soon, she pushed up against the pincers, using the spider's momentum towards her to slide herself down under it. Hands finally free, she twisted, pulled Aragorn's knife from under her, and sliced it in several ragged jerks through the spider's body.

Then suddenly, while its legs nearly closed around her something came out of the trees and pushed its body away. A flash of pale blonde hair flew by her and it was bolstering enough to get her back to her feet and ready for the next foe.

Several of the dwarves were drowsy and wrapped in silk again and the spiders were thick. Arrows flew from the trees and Legolas spun with his bow in his hands.

Josephine fell into step with him with a comforting familiarity, taking up her sword in her other hand and slicing at spiders that came from behind him while he fought from behind her.

Two spiders came at her at once and while her blades sliced into the one closest to her she yelled for Legolas again to catch the second. She ducked under his shot as he turned and let loose an arrow into it, it stinger only feet from her.

One by one the spiders fell, either to arrows or blades. Finally the clearing became quiet, littered with the curled bodies of spiders and the remaining company who were now freeing the others.

Josephine turned back to Legolas to find his dagger resting against her throat. He looked down his nose at her with cold eyes, an entirely different person from the prince that would teach her so patiently later.

"I do not know your name, but you have called mine. So explain." He used the tip of the blade to tilt up her chin.

That time where she'd have to explain had come. "A Seer knows many names, including yours, Legolas Greenleaf." Oh yes, very mystical. He'd probably pick on her about it when she got home.

"A Seer?" He sneered, looking around at the dwarves who were quickly being herded into a group behind her. "Traveling with dwarves I would say more likely a thief, or perhaps a whore."

Oh he was never going to hear the end of this.

"Oi!" Bofur yelled. "Don't you be speakin' of Lady Josephine like that!"

"Lady?" Legolas said skeptically. "That remains to be seen." He sheathed his dagger and grabbed her sword and knife from her hand. "Search them."

"Dick." She mumbled under her breath, though he definitely heard her even if he ignored the comment as he joined the others in searching the dwarves.

"What's this?" He said, holding something of Gloin's in his hand. "Some sort of goblin mutant?"

"That's mah wee lad, Gimli!" Gloin answered angrily.

Josephine relented tiredly as her sword belt was taken and picked the webbing off of her clothes and out of her hair. The elves made quick work of the dwarves' weaponry and Orcist was handed to Legolas who looked it over with surprise. Then his eyes turned angry again and he looked down at Thorin.

"Where did you get this?"

"It was given to me." Thorin hissed.

"Not just another thief," Legolas said, turning the tip of the blade toward Thorin. "But a liar as well." He snapped to the rest of his hunting party to take them and waited behind her as they were lined up two by two.

"Payback's a bitch." She grumbled threateningly, hoping somewhere in the future he remembered her words.

Legolas pushed her forward with a sharp hand on her back and she flinched, feeling pain radiate like electricity out from the spot he'd touched. That fall and the fight hadn't done her any favors.

She was sure he'd noticed, but she wasn't so sure she cared. Though he didn't touch her back again and instead grasped her by the arm and placed her in front of him, at the very back of the line as they began to walk.

Chapter Text

The walk took only a little over an hour. The dwarves were roughly shoved and jostled with their hands bound, but Legolas only ever reached out to steady her if she tripped and never once touched her back again.

Josephine hadn't seen Bilbo since he'd cut her down, which was what was supposed to happen, but she hoped it was for the right reasons and he was hot on their heels. Then, thinking about Bilbo being gone reminded her of something else. Where was Tauriel?

Passing over the bridge and through the doors of Thranduil's realm, the dwarves were ushered down a hall to their right, and Thorin was led on ahead. Legolas pointed Josephine up a path to their left instead. She thought she'd either go with the dwarves, or be taken to Thranduil with Thorin.

"Where are we going?"

"The healers. We do not like visitors here, but you will not suffer a wound within our halls."

While she appreciated the sliver of kindness from him, it did surprise her.

They passed out onto a path running along the edge of the cavern and she paused to take it in. "Well," she sighed, thinking back to his words so long ago once the war had been won. "You weren't wrong."

"Wrong?" Legolas asked, not pressing her on and giving her her moment to look.

She cleared her throat and acted like she was changing the subject. "Your father's halls are beautiful."

He looked out over the cavern and then turned back to her with a frown. "In the forest I had the distinct impression you were acquainted with me. You fought at my side as if you'd done so before. How?"

Because she had done it before. Because she did know him. "I'm a Seer. I see things."

"You see me?"

"I see you not being an asshole like you are right now." She said sarcastically, trying to derail his questioning.

Annoyed, he nodded to the path and they continued walking. "How did you come to be in the company of those dwarves? To carry weapons forged by my kin?" He still held her sword belt and Orcrist in his hand and her eyes flicked to Aragorn's knife. At least if she didn't get it back from Legolas she could retrieve it in the future.

"They were gifts from Galadriel. And Lord Elrond gave Orcrist to Thorin." She figured telling him that and possibly softening his impression of her couldn't hurt.

"A lofty claim. One would think a thief would be more cautious about their tales."

Josephine couldn't stop herself before a scoff left her throat. "You're gonna look back on this one day…"

Frustration growing, he pulled in front of her and stopped them in his tracks. "I am trying to help you. My father will imprison you with the dwarves if you do not offer him reason to do otherwise."

"I'm sure he will." She said without an ounce of worry. God forbid she sit in a cell with one of the dwarves and actually get to sleep in for a few weeks while they waited for Bilbo to rescue them. Hell it almost felt like a vacation at that point.

Josephine stepped around him and kept walking. Every moment with this Legolas made her miss his future self more.

They arrived at the healer's wing in silence and she pretended not to understand as Legolas explained the situation to one of the healers in Sindarin. Her back, he said. And a cut that bled sluggishly on her head, something she hadn't noticed and discretely felt around for.

She was led into a curtained alcove by a silvery haired woman and Legolas' figure waited on the other side with his back to them. Because clearly she was going to cause trouble of some sort and he had to stay for everyone's protection.

They stripped her of her clothes and folded them into a pile by the door. She watched Gilraen's cloak, still stained heavily from her blood, get added to the stack and she twisted around. "My cloak, can I-"

"Your clothes will be cleaned and mended." Then she spoke through the curtain to Legolas in Sindarin, telling him that all the articles were of elven cloth. Score another point for Josephine's story.

Along the wall, a tub sat full of steaming water, fed by a pipe that came out of the wall. Questions soon left her mind as they guided her into it and she sank beneath the surface. God, it had been so long since she'd had a proper bath, it was like heaven incarnate.

Their stony faces didn't give away any reaction as they inspected her cuts, bruises, and scars. The old one on her leg from Morannon, her arm from Moria, nothing was paid much mind to. But the gentle hand that draped her hair over her shoulder as she folded over her knees in the water gave her arm a light touch before it drew away.

"Hir nin." One of them said, clearly drawing Legolas' attention. He was the only lord there. "Elye tira."

Josephine froze, shrinking in on herself and trying not to snap at them and tell them no, he shouldn't see. She didn't want him to see. Hell, she hadn't even seen her scars, having had no mirrors since Rivendell. But she also didn't want them to know she understood them so she pressed her face into her knees and tried to ignore the feeling of eyes on her as she heard the curtain move.

"Manen andave yá?" He asked in a sympathetic and somewhat angry tone that made her heart ache for home. It was comforting in a way, to hear his anger over what had happened to her. She would've sought his support if she'd been back home. His patience and encouragement while she tried to train back to her old strength. God, she didn't even know if she'd be able to use a bow again after it all finally healed properly.

The healer answered his question. A month ago it happened, perhaps a bit more she told him, and then said something about the pain that Josephine didn't understand.

"Are you going to stand there staring all day?" She snapped finally.

The curtain swished again and she hoped that meant Legolas had gone back to his place by the door. Peeking over her shoulder she was glad to see he had.

Clean and dry, they looked after what wounds she had from Mirkwood and the spiders, then applied a salve to her back and wrapped her in more bandages. They draped a pale blue dress over her shoulders and combed her hair before ushering her out of the alcove where Legolas was still waiting for her.

He didn't bring up the wounds, or anything at all. Silence stuck between them like a brick wall as she followed him, this time returning to the hall where they'd entered and taking the center passage. From the look of it, Thranduil was waiting for her.

The winding stone and wood pathways were all within his sight as Legolas followed behind her. She had never met Thranduil before, he hadn't come to the wedding and they hadn't made the journey to Mirkwood. All she had to go off of was his benevolent, trauma driven stubbornness as shown in the movies. Between him and Thorin, it was no wonder things went sideways. Everybody needed some fucking therapy. Herself included.

As they came up the steps towards his court, Thranduil came down from his throne and Legolas took his place near it.

"I would like to welcome you to my halls, Josephine." Someone must have told him after hearing the dwarves call her name back in the forest. "I have been told you faced many trials on your journey. I do hope you will find rest here."

Ahah, so Thorin got bad cop and she got good cop.

"Thank you for your hospitality, but I would feel more welcome if my friends were shown the same courtesies." She said pointedly.

"Your friends have given me cause to distrust them."

He began to glide around her, towering and powerful in a way that would've made her far more uneasy just a couple of years prior. Now it just felt more like a challenge to see how long it would take him to get annoyed that she wasn't reacting to his tactics.

His monologue continued as he went and she patiently waited it out. "None the least of which was your state upon your arrival. Your injuries speak to, at best, negligence on their part. At worst…" He paused. "Guilt." He stopped again in front of her and touched her face lightly. "If they have been at fault for such things, treated you poorly, I would beg you tell me such."

Anger pooled in her chest but she held herself steady. "I don't appreciate being shown false concern in the hopes of incriminating them with more charges."

"Dwarves are not known for their gentle nature." He said coolly. "It is my duty to question such things when one comes to my halls in such a manner."

"But they are known for their loyalty to their friends." She defended. "So one would think the goblins of the Misty Mountains would be more likely at fault, especially since you know we've come from the west."

"Goblins?" Thranduil said darkly. Behind him something shifted in Legolas' expression. A sadness came over him.

Josephine didn't know the specifics, he didn't talk about it, but she knew goblins had had something to do with his mother's death, so it didn't surprise her when Thranduil's tone lowered.

"The courtesy of their halls left a lot to be desired." She answered.

"What darkness you have endured, daughter of men." He said with more sympathy than she'd ever expected to see from him. "Some of our own kind have not found the strength to bear it as you do."

Then in a flash it was gone and the interrogation continued. "But how, if you are a Seer as you so claim, did you not see such a fate and avoid it?"

"I can't see all of Eru's song." Or any of it, really, but he didn't need to know that. "Nor does foresight mean I'm immune to the consequences."

"Indeed. None of us are." He agreed.

Stepping away, he put some distance between them. "I know why the dwarves make for the mountain. I would release them if they would but ensure the return of what is already rightfully mine."

If she'd needed to get out of Mirkwood right then, she would've promised those jewels he wanted in a heartbeat. The way she saw it, even if his claim was up for debate, it would do more good to hand them over at that point than try to iron it all out. But she didn't need to leave Mirkwood yet, they had yet another month to wait.

"I can't promise you anything. I'm sorry, I know they were probably your wi-"

"Do not speak of her." He snapped. "You know nothing of such pain."

"I know what it's like to lose people." She said warningly. "You're not the only one here with something to suffer over"

Returning to his throne he called back. "The difference is, I will do what I can to ease your suffering. Whereas you will stand idly by and allow mine and your friends' to continue."

"If I was going to let anyone guilt trip me, it wouldn't be you. Whatever went on with you and Erebor is between Thorin and yourself." Until later when she could beat some sense into them both.

From his throne he looked down at her with a cold gaze. "Then you will share in their fate. But remember, your years are far shorter than theirs."

He nodded to Legolas who bowed his head and took her by the arm to lead her away. It wasn't until they were far out of earshot when he broke the silence.

"Was it truly goblins that harmed you?"

She nodded, her stomach still sour with the memory. "Legolas…" She paused and touched his arm with a familiarity that clearly put him off. "Don't tell him, please?"

"Who?"

"Just…you'll know." Don't tell Aragorn, don't make him imagine the danger, the pain, the close brush with death. "Remember this, now, and don't tell him."

"Why would I offer you my favor?"

"Never mind, just forget it." She amended, annoyed at herself for even trying to appeal to a friendship that didn't exist yet. But god how she was missing it.

He seemed to have more words stuck on his tongue but he didn't ask them, at least not yet. The tension between them was uncomfortable so when he stopped and opened a door to a sparse but comfortable bedchamber she leaned on the sarcastic side.

"I thought I'd share in my friends' fate?"

"But not their accommodations." He clarified. "Your wounds require more than a bed of cold stone if they are to finish healing."

She stepped inside, relieved to find the beads from her hair sitting neatly on the one table in the room. "I wasn't lying about their loyalty, they'll raise hell if you don't tell them where I am." Turning around she gave him a wry smile. "Trust me, it'll be easier on everyone if you ease their minds."

"What has drawn you so close to them?"

"A lot of things. You know as well as anyone how traveling and fighting alongside someone fosters friendship. They're the only reason I survived what happened, that means something."

"Perhaps." He answered stubbornly. "But saving a life does not on its own give the promise of good character."

"And being an elf does not on its own give the promise of wisdom."

In one swift motion he stiffly stepped out, shut the door, and Josephine heard the click of a lock. She might have better accommodations than the dwarves, but it was clear she was under the same prisoner status. She had a distinct feeling that wouldn't be the last she saw of Legolas before they escaped either.

Chapter Text

October 3019

The browning grasses of the field of Pelennor stretched out in front of her as the hooves of her horse beat over the ground. Ahead of her she chased Arod as Legolas' hair blew smoothly behind him, and behind the both of them, Aragorn followed on Roheryn.

Beneath her, the heavy Dunedain horse pushed, understanding the goal of catching up to Legolas. He'd been a gift from the Dunedain after their wedding, brought from the Northern Kingdom and only just arrived a few weeks before. They'd named him Galador, and thought him a fitting gift since he'd come from the same sire as Roheryn.

With the plains still empty but for some autumn crops, there was still plenty of space to let them stretch their legs, and plenty of room for Legolas to set up the targets he'd promised.

The War had meant anything she took the time to learn had to be the absolute most important, whatever she'd need to keep herself alive. That hadn't included much mounted combat on her own recommendation, but for a bit of sword work. Bow work had been completely cast aside, at least until that day.

They came to a stop in a line, parallel to the three targets Legolas had placed at unequal intervals along a straight track of trampled grass. Clearly he'd already tested them out.

Legolas nodded to the targets with an excited glint in his eye. "I will first show you, then we will begin work on your form."

He nudged Arod into a gallop and went down the line, hitting a bullseye on each target. Beside her, Aragorn caught her eye with a smile.

"Show off." She smirked.

"Not nearly as badly as when he took the Mumakil." Aragorn reminded her.

"Still only counts as one."

Legolas trotted back over to them with his bow in hand." Did you notice the shift in my form from standing?"

Josephine, feeling a little bad she hadn't been paying close enough attention, lied. "Yeah, super different."

He didn't notice and went on with his instruction.

The next morning Josephine threw one leg over the side of the bed and groaned into her pillow. "Muscles hurt that I didn't know I had." She would've pulled her leg back under the warmth of the blanket but that hurt too.

Aragorn rolled out of bed and went to the cabinet by her dressing table. "Not so different from our days in Rivendell."

She smiled wryly to herself at the memory. "I think I spent more time there sore, than pain free."

He came back with a lidded earthen jar and sat on the edge of the bed. "When next we stay in Imladris, you will be able to fully enjoy its peace." He motioned for her to turn around and pulled her dressing gown up over her head, setting it aside on the covers.

"Imladris, the Shire, then Lake Evendim." She ticked off wistfully. Their journey north was still years out in preparations, but she was looking forward to seeing more of Middle-Earth under less dire circumstances.

"We will rebuild Annuminas as we do Gondor. I very much look forward to you seeing it for the first time." His hands spread the salve into the muscles around her arms and shoulder, his fingers massaging it into her skin.

Josephine smothered a laugh with her fist. "I very much look forward to seeing you try to fit into Bag-End. Watch out for the chandelier in the entryway, Gandalf learned that the hard way."

"Did he indeed?"

"And then the door frame."

Aragorn sniffed with amusement. "How fortunate he will be joining us so that I may remind him not to be bested by Frodo's home."

Punctually, two knocks came to the door, Ciril's request to enter so she could begin getting Josephine ready for the day.

Aragorn switched to treating her other shoulder and called back to the closed doors. "You may enter, Ciril."

With the unflappable efficiency she displayed every morning, Ciril came inside and barely cast them a glance before heading for Josephine's wardrobe. "I see yesterday has taken its toll, your majesty." She looked back at them while sorting through the stacks of clothes. "Will his majesty be bandaging your shoulders so his salves do not stain your gown?"

Josephine and Aragorn glanced at each other with a grin. "Yes my love, will I have to worry about oils staining my clothes?"

There was hardly anyone in the citadel more adept at etiquette towards them than Ciril. She was also determined enough to uphold her duties to Josephine that even the King could fall under a veiled scrutiny that only Ciril could navigate so tactfully.

"Not this day, you have my word, Ciril." He said with a confident smile. "And I will not hinder your schedule for much longer."

The salve was disappearing into her skin and his gentle massage had lessened some of the sharp ache. By the time Ciril had picked out her clothes for the day's tasks, Josephine was sure he'd be finished.

"Her majesty's well being is of great importance to me, I am always glad to find that you see to it. The Queen's schedule will manage."

>>><<<

Mirkwood

There was no sunlight in her room to wake her at dawn, and if not for the coming and going of the healers, Josephine wouldn't have been able to keep track of time. It was like most elven cities she realized, where time just seemed to work differently. For Mirkwood, it was always twilight, lit by lamps that cast a warm glow over the caverns. The healers would come in the mornings and apply salves to her scars and rewrap her like a mummy in bandages that encircled her entire torso. Then she'd be left alone in her sparse room to eat and have another existential crisis. Later, presumably in the afternoon since it came right after her second meal, two guards would take her for a walk through the cavern. Josephine could see the same softness towards captives that would help Gollum escape when he'd be imprisoned there. If the Dwarves had been a little more pathetic and a little less insulting they might've found their way out in a similar fashion.

From what Josephine could gather was the start of their second week there, came the change in company she'd been worrying most about. The door of her room was locked firmly behind her after her walk and she turned around to find herself face to face with Bilbo.

She sighed in relief, finally some confirmation that he'd made it away from the spiders and into the caves. He pressed his finger to his lips and pointed towards the locked door, reminding her that the elves were most definitely listening.

As a work around, she pretended to talk to herself, ranting about the situation. Honestly, it wasn't going to be the first time she'd done it so there was no doubt in her mind the guards wouldn't find it suspicious.

"They're going to have to let me see the dwarves one of these days so I can make sure everyone's okay." She grumbled.

Bilbo nodded and gave her a thumbs up that they were all fine.

"Then again they'll probably just chuck me down into the dungeon once they're content that my back's healed up enough. Still, I guess it's nice that they're so attentive to my well-being even if I am a prisoner. But still! And then their festival is coming up in a few weeks and I'll be stuck in here or down there and not get to see any of it! They'll all get to party and drink and I'll be here. Bored out of my skull."

Bilbo's eyes lit up and he nodded emphatically, picking up what she was laying down.

The scrape of a key in the door lock interrupted them and Josephine's head snapped around. When she looked back down at Bilbo he'd disappeared, probably slipped the Ring back on and retreated into the corner.

The door opened and Legolas stepped through, still with the same cold blue eyes and slightly constipated expression. It was the first she'd seen from him since her first day there. She couldn't help but notice Orcrist on his belt and the handle of Aragorn's knife peeked out from behind him.

She wanted to make a snide comment about his sticky fingers in terms of their weapons but she held back, too interested in why he'd come to risk chasing him off. Josephine still couldn't help the feeling of comfort that came from seeing a familiar face, even if it wasn't so friendly anymore.

"How are you feeling?" He asked awkwardly.

"Better than before. I appreciate your healer's for that."

"I did say you would not suffer an injury in our halls." He stepped aside and held his hand out towards the corridor. "Come."

"Where are we going?" She asked, following his direction.

He stared ahead and kept moving. "Your kind suffers without the light of the sun."

"Ah, so a field trip then?"

"...Field trip? No, we have no such places in the forest. However, there are places from which you can feel the sun's warmth."

"So why didn't you have one of the guards take me, why are you my escort?" Josephine had her suspicions after his questioning when they first met.

"This gives you a greater chance of escape, if you do I would not have such a failure on anyone's shoulders but my own."

"Well I'm not going to try and escape so you can relax."

"Do you lie as any prisoner would? Or do you tell the truth because you have different plans that you have seen with your Sight?"

Josephine shook her head and chuckled. "Either way I wouldn't tell you."

They came to the main doors and slipped out onto the bridge. It was bathed in warm sunlight and Josephine took a deep, longing breath as it washed over her. She hadn't realized how much she missed the sun, but given how long they'd spent in the dark of Mirkwood and then imprisoned in the caverns, she really hadn't seen much of it in over a month.

Looking back at him, she let herself imagine she was out there with her Legolas, if only for just a moment. "Thank you for this."

He just nodded, watching her carefully.

"Okay, what?"

"I find your familiarity with me…unnerving." He finally admitted after a long pause. "I am not blind to the fact that you seem comforted when I am near. And I am concerned by your knowledge of my life."

"It comes with the territory of seeing parts of Eru's song. You should take it as a compliment, since you'd been nothing but insulting towards me since you found us in the forest."

"I do not dare presume your knowledge of me is merely that." He stepped up to her out of earshot of the guards at the gate. "So tell me now, truthfully, how do you know me?"

If telling him everything would've changed his tone she might've tried it, but then again she could risk an earlier escape than the festival of Starlight. So Josephine compromised. Not a lie, but not the full damning truth either.

"You'll teach me how to use a bow someday, in my past and your future. You're the whole reason I'm any good at it."

He almost seemed insulted by her comment. "And why would I teach a prisoner such a thing?"

"I'm sure it'll make sense to you at the time." She replied with a little more sarcasm than was probably necessary. She turned away from him and looked down at the river.

After a few moments he thrust his bow in front of her face. "Draw it."

Josephine took it and gave him a very confused look. "You're handing me a weapon?"

"I'm not giving you an arrow." He glared. "If I am the reason for your teachings then I would see their results."

"I don't think I'm gonna do it justice anymore." The tightest of the skin on her back had clearly impeded her range of motion.

"Try." He demanded.

Josephine huffed and glared back at him for a moment, before positioning her hands and lifting her arms into place. The bow extended out in front of her, her left arm gripping the carved wood with hardly a struggle. But her right shoulder strained to lift and pull the string at the same time. Her shoulder blade shifted under the puckered skin on her back and the scars pulled strangely, itching and burning. With a grimace she dropped the stance and handed him the bow back. "Sorry to disappoint. I think my days of using a bow might be over."

He placed it back into his quiver and reached for her arm. "May I?"

Confused, she nodded, interested to see what he was going to do. He lifted her elbow back into position, reminiscent of the many times he'd correct the position of that same elbow during her training. "Hold it there."

He let go and crossed his arms, watching her stance as she watched him out of the corner of her eye. Seconds later her arm started to shake and the burn started to spread. Mostly out of spite, she was determined not to let it drop until she absolutely had to, which very quickly grew to be extremely difficult.

Finally he reached back out and grasped her arm, lowering it gently back to her side. "There may still be hope for your bow arm, but it will need more time to heal. If you or the dwarves ever come to an agreement with my father and leave our halls, that is."

"Maybe one day if I'm lucky, you'll find it in that cold heart of yours to help me." It wasn't lost on her that she was taking a bit of her frustrations out on him, but the snarky quips seemed to slip out before she could stop them.

"Right now you should count yourself lucky if I ever bother to teach you in the first place." He nodded sharply towards the doors. "It's time to return to your cell."

With one last look up at the bright sky, she turned back to the gate and walked back inside, Legolas right on her heels.

Chapter Text

Rest was overrated and boring. Josephine was bored. Bored and antsy. There was a time for everything, especially in this story, but she desperately wished it would hurry up and get there. Two weeks into their capture and she hadn't seen a single dwarf, her wounds were (in her opinion) healed up enough that there was no reason to keep her out of the dungeon, and she was kept on the same rigid schedule as before.

Her only saving grace was Bilbo's visits. He spent a lot of time creeping around the caverns, scouting and eavesdropping, but she'd seen him almost every day which helped dull the loneliness. However, being unable to speak without being overheard meant their interactions were rudimentary.

Josephine was also getting worried about not being in the dungeon come the Feast of Starlight. It would throw off their timing again if Bilbo had to fetch her and she was on the opposite end of the caverns from the dungeons.

Fed up, and more than a little nervous about it, she decided to try something instead of waiting around through another anxiety spiral of an afternoon. She knocked on the door of her room and called through the wood. "Tell the King I want to talk to him."

Given how much he presumably wanted from her, she didn't have too much worry that he'd approve her request. A half hour later, she was proven right and the guards outside her door escorted her to his chambers.

He faced away from her, towards the pool of water at his feet while she came down the steps. The guards had waited at the top to give their conversation more privacy.

"I am pleased to see your strength return, though my son tells me the results of your wounds still linger."

Patience, play along, don't come out swinging. "I suppose, in a way, our imprisonment has been good for me then. Not much need for a bow when your guards keep the spiders at bay. I can't lie, I'm thankful for the care your healers have shown." And she was, the pain that had dogged her still through Mirkwood had shown immediate improvements under their watch. Without it, she wouldn't have been as confident in her ability to fight through the rest of the story.

"Cruelty is not my goal by keeping you here."

"I'm not accusing you of cruelty, I'm thanking you for showing me a kindness. But I am wondering why I'm still kept in those quarters instead of being held in your dungeon now that I'm nearly recovered."

He turned, looking stiffly down his nose at her. "You wish to sleep on a slab of stone surrounded by the stench of dwarves? One would think you would instead be grateful to spend your long imprisonment in the room that I have granted."

"I am, but they're also my friends. Believe it or not, I miss them."

"Enough to forsake the comforts I have provided?"

This was going better than she'd expected. She didn't think just asking for it would work. "Yes."

His lips barely twitched but she could see amusement flicker in his eyes. "No. I will not allow it."

Narrowing her eyes, Josephine decided it was time for a new approach. "Why not?"

He smirked at her condescendingly. "You think I cannot tell when I am being manipulated? There is a reason you wish to join your companions in the dungeon and it is not because of your fondness for them."

He was rude, self righteous even, but not stupid. It had clearly been a miscalculation on her part to try.

"I am not foolish enough to believe you are content to reside in my halls. It is merely one step of many that you have seen towards your goal of retaking the mountain. Do not pretend to be less intelligent than you are, Josephine." He sounded almost disappointed in her. "I saw past it from the moment you stepped within my halls."

Well, when lying failed, at times blunt truth had worked well enough for her. "So where does that leave us?"

"You know what it is I seek within Erebor. See that I receive it at the end of their quest and perhaps I will play along with your game."

Josephine eyes him warily, weighing the risks of flipping all of her usual rules about her knowledge on their heads. Thranduil didn't miss her hesitation and swept past her slowly, pouring a glass of wine from the carafe on the table behind her.

"You cannot retake the mountain from within my halls, so it stands to reason that you will eventually escape them. Tell me, or I will triple the guard on your friends and see that you are as far from them as can be managed." He sipped from the goblet, well aware of the position he was putting her in. "I will see that you all wither in your cells until you are too old and frail to escape."

The harshness of his bargain made her uneasy, not the least of which because she fully believed him. "Your grief must be deep to threaten all of that just for her jewels."

"It has burned in my heart for centuries longer than you have lived. You would not understand."

"I understand that grief festers if you let it."

"Tell me, or I will end your journey here." He snapped.

Josephine thought for a few more moments, running through their escape in her mind and imagining how they could still achieve it with a dungeon full of guards. It wasn't promising. "If I tell you, and you don't let us continue our quest, you'll lose valuable allies in the coming decades."

"What allies? Dwarves? Why would we need their help?"

Straightening up, she joined him by the table and poured herself a goblet of wine, well aware she couldn't at most take a few sips, knowing Thranduil's realm had some of the most potent wines in Middle-Earth. "You're not stupid either, you've noticed the signs, you just don't want to admit it. The spiders spawning in Dol Goldur, rumors of a necromancer. An eye painted at the entrance of the forest." His brow creased and she realized she'd caught him off guard for the first time since they'd met. "I've seen it myself, and we both know what it means."

"That is impossible." He hissed. "That darkness was destroyed long ago."

"No, it's been festering. When it finally lets loose you'll want allies, and the men of the west will be too busy staving off destruction to come to anyone's aid, especially yours." She stepped up to him, craning her neck slightly to keep a firm lock on his eyes. "I have seen those armies first hand, and if you keep us here until we're too old and frail to leave, then you can give up all hope for your realm's survival right now."

The fear behind his eyes was quickly shoved aside and he was stone faced yet again. "You spin a dark tale, Seer."

"I'll tell you my plan, but not without your word that you won't stand in my or my companions way when we make our escape. And I'll do everything I can to see that her things are returned to you."

It was a bit grudgingly, but he tipped his head to her. "You have my word."

So now she had to uphold her end of it, and hope he wouldn't derail it some other way. "We'll escape via the river, in barrels headed for Laketown. You should send men after us but because it's a surprise and they'll be busy dealing with an attacking band of orcs, you won't manage to recapture us."

"And just when, should I be unprepared for your escape?"

"The Feast of Starlight. Let the guard and the men in the cellar drink themselves to sleep and we'll take it from there."

"And after you have escaped?"

"Pretend you didn't know anything about it, and do whatever you normally would. Believe me, you sticking to your usual instincts is more helpful in all of this than you'd think." Like please, please don't leave your army in Mirkwood, or worse yet, not show up at all. Definitely come and threaten the shit out of Thorin.

"There is more to your determination to complete this quest than mere victory." He observed, still reading her with what seemed like a complete lack of effort needed.

Clearly, the only way to get anywhere with him was bold frankness, but at least it seemed to be working. "You do this for the woman you loved, and I do this for the man that I love. Now, do we have an agreement?" She needed clear confirmation from him that he'd let things occur and stuck out her hand to him.

Slowly he reached out and grasped her hand. "We have an agreement."

>>><<<

Aragorn's duties carried on, and he bore them with all the strength he could muster. Counsels and meetings and decisions came and went, days passed, and the nights were long. Dreams never left him in peace, sometimes bringing her to him like a gift, and other times echoing with screams and blood. Mornings were lonely and stole his attention as the remnants of the night's visions ebbed away like the shore when they were good, or clung to him like tar when they were not.

But still, Aragorn carried on.

The table of lords in front of him muttered amongst themselves as yet another conflict was resolved to grudging compromise and Aragorn stoked his chin while he waited for the next subject to be broached, whatever that might be. At his right, Boromir looked tired and impatient, flicking his eyes to the window to see how far the sun had moved since they'd sat down. Too much time, far too much.

But dutifully, they snapped back to attention as Lord Avril cleared his throat near the other end of the table.

"I know none have yet had the courage to speak of it in counsel, but given the many months that have passed…"

He paused as Aragorn's eyes landed on him, hard and warning him to drop the subject. But he carried on despite it.

"Should we not prepare for the possibility that the Queen may not return?"

Aragorn's chest clenched and he glared down the table. "No, we shall not, for that time has not yet passed."

Lord Avril cleared his throat a second time, more uncomfortable than the first, and looked around at the other lords. "I only ask out of necessity. Out of the needs of Gondor."

"And what needs, Lord Avril," Boromir said slowly. "Might you be referring to?"

"The King's return has harkened to a prosperous future, but forgive me, my lords…With no heir, there is no promise that such a future would continue."

One of his hands balled into a fist against his thigh and beside him Boromir stiffened as he opened his mouth to respond.

"We have not neared the point where you should be speaking of such things." He snapped. "Nor would the Queen find your eagerness to replace her appropriate."

Bristling, Lord Avril laid his palms flat on top of the table. "I do not wish to replace her, but should she not return, it will be the King's duty to see that his line continues."

Slowly, Aragorn stood, his body as tight as steel. "You are correct, should such a thing come to pass, that would be my duty. But unless such a thing occurs, the only such duty I will be adhering to is my duty and my vow to her. Have I made myself clear, Lord Avril?" His tone was low, and his gaze bore down on the man.

"Yes, your majesty." He said quietly.

Boromir stood as well, his jaw releasing from where he'd held it clenched. "We will speak of this no more."

Chapter Text

Josephine had a feeling Thranduil would be keeping up on his word when three days later her clothes were brought back to her. They'd been cleaned and mended, and the borrowed shirt she'd gotten from one of the dwarves had been tailored down so two thirds of it didn't have to be tucked into her belt. Changing out of the simple dress the healers had given her, Josephine paused at her cloak once she got to it and pressed it up to her chest for just a moment before throwing it around her shoulders and clasping it at her throat. Then, about an hour later, she was marched out of the room for the last time, and led down towards the dungeons. It was, possibly, the first time she'd ever heard the dwarves totally silent, bored stiff from imprisonment in individual cells probably.

"Don't tell me you've all lost your wills to live already." She hollered, nudging the bars of Nori's cell with her toe as they passed.

"Don't count us out yet, lass!" Bofur yelled from across the chasm with a wide grin on his face. "We're just bidin' our time for the most opportune moment."

"Conservin' our strength ye see!" Gloin added from the cell next to him.

Then, passing Thorin's cell he braced his arm against the bars and looked up at her. "I'll have a lot of questions if we ever get out of here."

"Add them to your growing list since we left the Shire."

The door of a cell next to Fili's was opened for her and she stepped into her own private cell. It clanged shut behind her and the guard left silently. "So is everyone okay?" She yelled, the only way for them all to hear her.

"Yes, if you count being imprisoned for the rest of our lives by moon eyes elves to be 'okay'." Thorin answered.

"It was either elves or being eaten by spiders." She replied with a shrug, sitting back on her new bed, the well threatened slab of rock. "Patience is a virtue, Thorin. We'll find a way out of this."

"If we don't die of boredom first!" Kili joked.

Josephine was surprised to hear that, it had only been about two and a half weeks. After all of the long days of travel, they were whittled down by the Mirkwood dungeon a lot faster than she'd anticipated. "Oh come on, you guys are masters at entertaining yourselves."

"Ran out of songs." Bofur explained.

Well…she could at least help with that.

>>><<<

Josephine's mood as she finally stepped through the doors of the King's house was decidedly off. She'd been reminding herself all day, first as an excuse for the questions she'd had to field, and then feeling more like it was her who was the problem, that she was now living in a different culture in a far different time. Questions like this were bound to arise in counsel, it was political as well, after all. And now she felt like it was a question she needed to broach with Aragorn and it made her nervous.

A consequence of their incredibly short engagement had meant some things hadn't been spoken about before their marriage. Nothing so far had been insurmountable or even that difficult to agree on, but Josephine still wasn't quite sure what to expect from this one.

He was in the sitting room in his chair by the fire, a book open in his hand with his long legs kicked out in front of him. She was greeted with a smile when he saw her and closed his book, holding out his hand for her to take.

But Josephine lingered in the doorway, picking at her sleeve as tried to figure out how to start. "How was your day?" A+ avoidance, Josephine.

He frowned worriedly and let his hand drop over the arm of the chair. "Fair. But I am now more concerned as to yours."

She took a deep breath and bit her lip. "So I guess I always just assumed…cause you know, different world and all…" Another deep breath. "I'm your wife." She continued slowly. "The queen. There's a…Duty…" Now it just felt like she was being painfully obtuse. "Is it…bad that we're not having kids yet?" A year into their marriage, they hadn't started trying yet, and the questions had finally started coming in.

Aragorn's face broke into relief and he stood. "Is that what has you so troubled?" He drew his hands along her face and kissed her forehead lightly. "Why now does this worry you so?"

"Well," She sighed, feeling a weight come off her chest at his relaxed reaction. "As the king you're supposed to have an heir and as your wife that's kind of looked at as my job. But with the aftermath of the War and settling in here it just…it's too soon and it seems like we were both on the same page about it, but now the lords are making comments and their wives are gossiping and…" She trailed off and let whatever was left of her ramble hang in the air.

Aragorn picked it up and nodded sympathetically. "Josephine, we have many years yet for such things."

"But what about what you-"

"Whether our child is born this year or the next, or several from now, I will cherish them and you, no less." He kissed her softly. "The lords and their wives can say what they will, but it is not for them to decide."

She sighed and buried her head in his chest. "Come on, you've gotta have one fatal flaw. You can't just keep being a god damn feminist icon."

Chuckling he wrapped his arms around her. "I have many flaws, Josephine, of which you have seen."

"I'm not talking about things like you being so oblivious you'll walk around smelling like Satan's armpit until I tell you."

"Satan? Is that not the man with the bag of gifts from your land?"

Josephine snorted with a laugh and pulled away, leaning back against the doorframe and looking at him with a smile. "I'll explain later. Totally different story." She brushed her hand along his jaw and shook her head. "How did I get so lucky with you?"

"You were written into my story, as I was written in yours. This was always meant to be how our journey would end." He leaned down and wrapped his arms around her legs, lifting her up into the air and making his way down the hall. "I will happily oblige if I have not made my feelings clear enough. Perhaps that oversight is the fatal flaw you have been wondering about?" He ended cheekily.

"I think," she paused to kiss him. "I need some more examples. Just to be sure."

Suddenly he was pressing her against the wall, a deep rumble in his chest as his lips found her again. "Will you tell me of what you seek?" His beard brushed against her jaw as his lips pressed just below her ear. "Or shall I try to guess, instead?"

"Mmm." She hummed. "I think we should see what you have in mind."

She could feel his mouth against her neck pull into a grin and his teeth gently nipped at her skin. "As my Queen commands."

>>><<<

"Do you all think you've got the parts down now?" Josephine asked, her face pressed between the bars so she could try and see as many of them as possible. "I know there's a lot going on but I think it'll be fine."

"Lass, we've come up with more complicated than this in one night." Bofur said confidently.

"But she still hasn't explained what a Scaramouche is…" Ori added.

Nori was equally interested in the backstory of some of it. "It's no language I've ever heard."

"Look, this is a classic back where I'm from, and it'll keep us busy for a while. Might even annoy some of those uppity elves so can we try it?"

"You don't have to tell me twice." Fili said. "Come on lads, Kili, Gloin, Ori, you're with me."

The four of them loudly cleared their throats and began, perfectly in sync.

"Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy…"

Their practice continued as they tried to weave all the parts in to include the company (Thorin sat out the entirety but Balin was finding particular pleasure in bellowing Bismillah every time the line came up)

Josephine's grin was ear to ear as she listened to them bark out Bohemian Rhapsody while she screeched her way through the higher notes they couldn't reach. At least until a familiar voice snapped at them from the top of the dungeon.

"Quiet!" Legolas hollered.

"Bismillah! No!" Balin yelled back, ending with a hearty laugh.

Chapter Text

Their days in the dungeons were long, but as far as Josephine was concerned, not as long as her days upstairs. Here at least she had people to talk to, friends to joke with, and a twenty-first century songbook they could play around with. But after a while even they agreed that they shouldn't annoy their elven captures too much more than was strictly necessary and after a few days they got quieter again.

"May I ask you something, Lady Josephine?" Fili asked from the cell beside hers. The bars of their cells were just close enough that they could stick their arms out and reach each other if they stretched a bit.

"Sure, ask away." She replied, leaning back against the wall separating their cells so she could hear him better.

"Your land, is it a happy place? Not Gondor," He corrected. "The land where you lived before coming to ours."

Josephine weighed her answer based on the standard in Middle-Earth. "More convenient in some places, maybe. But I don't know, I don't think it's much different from Middle-Earth in that way. I don't know, Middle-Earth may even be the happier of the two."

"It seems strange." Fili pondered. "From all that you've told us it seems a very happy place. Why would we be so much better here?"

She had to think about it for a second, not even totally sure how to put in the words the feeling she had about it. "I don't know, I guess. I only ever had a narrow experience of the people in my land. I've traveled more miles in the few years I've been here than I did in my whole life back there." Josephine could ramble herself in circles trying to explain something that she wasn't even sure there were words for. "Why do you ask?"

"Just wonderin' is all. All the songs you teach us are happy, or at least exciting. Makes it seem like the people of your land never knew sorrow as we do."

"Oh they've known their fair share, and there's plenty of songs to match. Guess we've always been trying to have a good time and I never never wanted to bring the mood down."

Fili paused and she heard the beads on his beard clank against the bars as he looked around the dungeon. "I'd say we've earned a few sad songs given our current situation."

"Are you asking me to sing you a sad song from my land?" He was acting like she was hard to convince to sing at any given moment. Living in Middle-Earth made it second nature to spout off songs at any time.

"Oh fine, if you sing one for me, I'll sing one for you. Though I can't really translate it out of Khuzdul so…you won't really know what I'm saying."

Josephine chuckled and leaned her head against the bars. "Okay, so what kind of sad do you want? Death, loneliness, loss, yearning…my people wrote for it all." The trick was would she remember enough of the words of any of it…

"Sing one for you." Fili said softly.

Josephine sputtered and chuckled awkwardly. She wasn't sure she wanted to venture into that kind of sad song territory while she was locked in a dungeon with nothing but time to think about how much she missed Aragorn and home. "How about I find you a sad Queen song to go with Bohemian Rhapsody?"

Fili didn't say anything, but he pointedly cleared his throat and waited until she had time to think of something and give in.

"Okay fine! But I probably forgot half the words."

"Well come on," He pushed teasingly. "Get to it then."

She said a silent prayer to Hozier, wherever he was. In hindsight, her fondness for the yearning, tall, bearded man with long hair felt a bit more like foreshadowing than before.

Clearing her throat, she started somewhere in the middle, having forgotten exactly how it started. "That's when my baby found me…I was three days on a drunken sin. And I was burnin' up a fever, I didn't care much how long I lived. But I swear I thought I dreamed him, he never asked me once about the wrong I did."

Josephine had a feeling Hozier wouldn't mind her messing up his lyrics, both by accident and on purpose. It was awkward and she knew she had to be mixing up different verses, but after so many years, it was the best she could manage.

She stumbled on through several more, realizing halfway through she'd tucked the first bit into the middle and skipped the chorus in a spot. "I uh…sorry."

Suddenly the private cell was a refuge and she turned her face away from the door to swipe her palm under her eyes. "It's not quite right."

"Lady Josephine?" Fili's voice came from as close as he was able to get to her, face pressed against the bars. His arm reached out with an open palm.

She looked over her shoulder and thought about staying put, but she finally reached back and took his hand. "This is why I…" Her voice shook and she had to pause. "Why we stick to the happy songs, you know." That was what she'd avoided this whole time. Her reactions to her injury had been enough, she needed to show them she had her strength back and was well and capable of continuing on. There was a reason she hadn't let them see this half of her journey with them.

"You should keep going." He urged gently.

"No, I think…I think you've got the idea."

He gave her hand a light squeeze. "Please?"

She was already crying, she supposed. It wasn't like a little more would hurt her street cred with them at that point. So, shakily, she started the next line. "When my time comes around,"

Then Fili's voice came in behind her quietly, filling in effortlessly from the first time she'd sung the chorus. "When your time comes around, lay you gently in the cold dark earth.

"No grave can hold my body down."

"You'll crawl home to him."

>>><<<

3020

Aragorn smiled to himself as he pushed open the door of Josephine's study, her voice carrying softly as she stood in the afternoon sun, a stick of charcoal in her hands. She was bent over her new table, she'd commissioned it for her work on the city. A drafting table she'd called it, necessary for her work if they were going to rebuild Osgiliath and venture one day into Ithilien. It had been such a simple request, but was the one she'd been the most excited to have.

As she'd fallen into her work and slipped back into something familiar, Aragorn felt like he was meeting a new part of her he'd not seen except in flashing during the War. All that time she'd fought to find her place in their world and learn how to survive in it, and now it was her turn to bring what she knew to help them.

He waited in the doorway, unnoticed as she drew the charcoal over the parchment she'd weighed down against the table. Her lips moved absentmindedly, singing to herself as she worked. It went on for another minute or so before she noticed him.

She glanced over her shoulder at him and smiled, stealing the very air from his lungs. There was peace in her eyes, the likes of which he'd only seen sparingly since that day in Rivendell so long ago. He knew she'd found happiness, but the peace he saw was all the more precious to him in its rarity. Finally, perhaps, the dark weight of the War was lifting from her shoulders. As bright white stone replaced charred rubble and mithril was forged to replace iron, maybe she too was rebuilding just like the city that she'd fought for.

"You okay?" She asked, wiping her hands on a cloth and setting it back on a hook off the side of the desk. "You look like you're stuck in your head again."

He smiled with a guilty dip of his chin. "I suppose I was. And yet," he walked over and took her hand. "One look from you and my thoughts escape me."

"They're still in your eyes. You sure you're okay?"

"Worry not, Josephine. I merely came to see you, and found I could not bear to interrupt when you seemed so content."

"You," she began, pecking him on the lips. "Can interrupt me anytime. Even if I seem content."

Chapter Text

Josephine had never been so excited to have the action start up again. She wasn't really looking forward to their demented family river rafting trip, but she sure as hell was seeing a light at the end of the tunnel. The raucous sounds coming from upstairs were like music to her ears and she paced her cell anxiously. There was just one thing missing and it put her on edge.

"Kili!" She hollered across the span. "You haven't been flirting with any redheaded elven women, have you?"

"Red headed elven women?" Dwalin said with a laugh. "Why would he do that?"

Josephine frowned. "Okay well have you seen one? Probably a Captain of the Guard?"

Suddenly Legolas appeared in front of the bars. "And why would you wish to know of her?"

"Come to slum it with us downstairs while the party rages?" She said dryly.

He folded his arms behind his back stiffly. "To ensure you are all in your place." Leaning in slightly he lowered his tone. "I had convinced my father to let you stay in the healer's halls, then I returned from scouting to find you here. What did you do?"

"Nevermind that. Where's Tauriel?" They'd be gone in a matter of hours and if she wasn't around and Fili was still injured…then she had her work cut out for her to fix it.

Legolas stilled, showing his surprise for just a second before responding. "She has just returned from the forest. Why?"

"Jesus, why is so much not on time right now?" She muttered.

"What do you know of Tauriel?" He demanded.

Josephine blinked and shook her head. "Woah there, where did that tone come from?"

"Tell me what it is you know of her fate. There must be a reason why you ask after her."

His cold eyes bore into her, more pressing than they'd been with any questions he'd had about himself. That was when it started to click. "You really do care about her, don't you?

She'd never asked him about Tauriel back home, almost assuming he would've mentioned her if there was anything to mention. Having assumed everything was on the nose to what she'd known, there hadn't been much reason. Thranduil was well against their involvement, it stood to reason nothing came of their…fondness for each other.

"Holy shit, are you in love with her?" She hissed through the bars in a whisper.

He was silent but the awkward shift of his gaze away from her cell was answer enough.

"Okay, okay relax." She reached through the bars and put her hand on his arm, an action that made him flinch so noticeably she pulled back immediately. "Are you two like…together? Does she know? Does your father know?" He'd never told her anything about it, so now she was partially guessing out of interest and partially out of concern for the integrity of the story.

"What have you seen?" He said finally. "Is she safe?"

Like when Elrond asked after Estel's future, Josephine couldn't ignore Legolas' question. "She's as safe as you, as far as I've seen."

He nodded and turned to leave, calling back a few steps past her cell. "I will speak to my father about your accommodations."

When Legolas was out of sight, all the dwarves had their faces pressed against the bars. Fili looked over at her curiously. "What was all that about then?"

"I'm not exactly sure…"

>>><<<

Hours passed and the party raged on, until finally, they heard a familiar voice appear at Thorin's door.

"Bilbo?!" Bofur called out.

"What do you all say we get going, hm?" He said, holding up the ring of keys with a smug smile.

The dwarves started yelling and Bilbo shushed them, hurrying to unlock all their doors one by one. When he got to Josephine's she grinned and gave him a wink.

"Right on time, Bilbo. Down and to the right?" She nodded towards the stairs leading away from the main hall.

"The guards should be asleep by now." He nodded.

In single file they trudged down, Bilbo leading the way with Josephine right behind him.

"This way," He motioned for them to slip across the room, skirting the table that served as the two guards' pillow.

"I don't believe it, we're in their cellars!" Kili snapped at Bilbo as he looked around.

"Ye were supposed to be leadin' us out, not further in!" Bofur added.

"I know what I'm doing!" Bilbo reminded them. "Now come on!"

"Shut up, all of you!" Josephine hissed, eyeballing the elves in the corner and pushing past the dwarves.

It didn't help, they kept arguing even as Bilbo was ushering them into the barrels.

Smacking Bofur on the back of the head as he went to argue again she and Bilbo both looked at Thorin for help. He nodded firmly and ordered the group to do as Bilbo said.

Quickly they shoved themselves into the barrels, Josephine slipped into one of the bottom ones nervously, feeling like she was going to try to go down Niagra falls or something.

"Now what?" Nori asked when they were all settled.

"Uh…Hold your breath?" Bilbo instructed nervously.

Josephine tucked her head into the barrel and waited. First came the click of the lever, then the world began to shift under them and they rolled, fell, and splashed into the river. She couldn't tell which way was up for a second, until a hand grasped the rim of her barrel and Thorin's waterlogged sleeve tipped it to make sure she was okay.

"Where's Bilbo?!" Dwalin called.

"Give him a minute!" She yelled back, then glanced at Thorin. "Hang on tight, this is gonna be a doozy."

"There he is!" Nori yelled as a small splash came from behind them and he dragged Bilbo into his barrel with him.

"Well done Master Baggins." Thorin praised. "Now go! Come on, let's go!"

Their hands pushed them along the rock walls and through the water, until sunlight streamed down at them when they reached the mouth. The mouth, and the waterfall.

"Shit shit shit shit!" Josephine pulled her arms back in as they picked up speed.

"Hold on!" Thorin yelled.

Like the most dangerous log flume she'd ever seen, they went tumbling over the edge, getting soaked to the bone and coming out the other side sputtering and spitting.

And they only started going faster and faster as they entered the rapids. She barely had time to be thankful that Thranduil kept his word before an elf horn blew and from far off she heard Legolas shout to close the gate.

It was rolling shut as they reached the gatehouse and Thorin's barrel slammed into the rusting metal. The barrels stacked up and as she was added to it, one of the elven soldiers fell back into the water behind her.

"Watch out! There's orcs!" Bofur called.

"Get under the bridge!" Thorin ordered as the orcs broke through the elves and started coming after them. But there wasn't enough room for them all.

They were trapped, and bodies fell into the water around them. Naturally, even better, they had no weapons either. No weapons except for Sting, which Bilbo used to kill the nearest orc that was coming for Nori.

This was where Kili would be injured, and if she couldn't count on Tauriel to heal him she couldn't risk him getting hurt. She could see the wheels turning in his head as he glanced up and she called his name. "Kili! Don't you dare!"

She pulled herself out of the barrel and over the dwarves, trying to reach the bank. "I'll go!" If she knew an arrow was coming she'd be more able to avoid it than him. But she also couldn't sit there and argue with him as he followed her.

Dwalin tossed him a weapon he'd pulled off one of the orcs and he scrambled up the bank, catching one at the calf as she grabbed another by the breastplate and used his momentum to swing him into Dwalin's waiting fists.

Grabbing a knife from the belt of Kili's orc she sank it into its back and started climbing the stairs. Two more waited at the landing and Kili sliced the head off one and urged her ahead while Fili threw an ax into the second.

The lever was only feet away and she was almost there when Kili ran past her, just reaching for the lever when a dark line shot through the air and stuck him in the leg. He froze in surprise for a moment as she dispatched the last orc in their way.
"Kili!" Fili yelled.

He tried to reach for the lever but fell back in pain and Josephine couldn't reach it in time before another orc came over the ridge at them, sword raised to finish Kili off.

But then another arrow flew, gold with white fletching, and struck the orc in the chest.

Josephine took the opportunity to jump over Kili and throw all her weight on the lever, only then looking over her shoulder to see Legolas with his bow raised and a flash of green and red behind him as Tauriel knocked an arrow of her own. Maybe things weren't as off as she thought.

She spun over the walkway, cutting through the next round of orcs that would've overtaken them. It was enough of a distraction that the gate opened and the barrels began to move again.

Fili was gripping the bank and holding onto Kili's empty barrel. "Come on!"

"Let's go." Josephine grabbed Fili by the arm and half shoved him over the edge of the bridge into the barrel. He screamed as the arrow snapped and the water surged, sending the last of them over the falls.

"Oh fuck me." She was still standing on the bridge.

"Josephine!" One of them called, too muffled by the water for her to make out who.

"It'll be fine, you'll be fine. It's just water." She lied to herself, sliding over the edge of the bridge and launching herself feet first down the falls.

She tucked her elbows in and took a deep breath, letting the current take her with no other option except recapture. Submerged completely, she lost her bearings, stuck for what felt like hours under the water before popping back up to the surface.

"I've got her!" She heard Dwalin yell right as he grabbed her cloak and hoisted her into his barrel.

She leaned over the edge and coughed. Waterfall after waterfall sent them spilling over the rocks. The banks were a mess of orcs and the trees were filled with elves. They were shooting at each other and everyone was shooting at the dwarves.

The dwarves, in all their dish tossing synchronized glory collected orc weapons as they went, passing them back and forth to deal with the threats as they came.

Josephine, who wasn't a perfectly synchronized dwarf, was nearly dumped out of the barrel every other second and was too busy gripping the rope tied around the rim of the barrel to make sure she didn't fall out.

Her plight wasn't helped when Legolas flew off a fallen log and planted one foot on Oin's head and one on Dwalin's head.

"Show off!" She yelled, unable to not be at least a little amused by his more familiar habits.

He jumped and turned around, drawing another arrow and glancing down at her with a frustrated shake of his head. Then he was gone again, gliding over the bank, hopping across to the other side and cutting through the orcs like butter. She watched when she could, clamoring at the constraints of the barrel when he didn't see and orc coming at him from behind.

"Legolas!"

But as she said it, Thorin let an ax fly and the orc fell.

She could tell he'd reached the edge of the Woodland Realm when he stopped there and let the orcs continue.

The banks began to rise and become impassable on foot, eventually the orc party was left behind and nearly an hour later the river began to calm and the bank came down again.

"Anything behind us?" Thorin asked.

"Not that I can see." Balin replied.

Bofur popped up out of his barrel, spitting water over the side. "I think we've outrun the orcs!"

"Not for long, we've lost the current." Thorin was trying in vain to control his barren with a branch he'd collected along their way. "Make for the shore!"

They fumbled to the rocks and Oin pulled her out of the barrel by the shoulders while Dwalin heaved her by the legs. She sloshed up the shore, shivering, but hurrying to where Kili had sat down, pressing a cloth to his leg.

His face was screwed up in pain and Bofur hovered by him with Fili but when he saw her coming he sobered. "I'm fine. It's nothing."

"On your feet." Thorin ordered the company.

"Kili's wounded." Bofur argued. "His leg needs binding."

Josephine grabbed the end of his scarf and unwound it from his neck, kneeling down beside Kili and trying to wrap his leg while her hands shook.

"There's an orc pack on our tail, we keep moving. Bind his leg, quickly. We have two minutes."

Her hands were going numb and she kept dropping the scarf until Fili nudged her aside and took over. "Let me."

"Ye'r shiverin' like a leaf."Dwalin's voice grumbled behind her, hoisting her back to her feet. "Alright lass, off with it." He unclasped her sopping cloak and threw it to the side, then before she could argue he had his arms locked around her and her face ended up pressed right next to his armpit.

The smell made her eyes water and she pushed at him. "Christ, Dwalin!" He wouldn't let up and she kicked him in the shin. "Let go!"

Dwalin laughed at her vain attempts and held on tighter.

"Get off me you fucking-"

His laugh deepened, at least, until an unfamiliar voice cut through the air.

"I suggest you do as she says."

They all spun to face the river's mouth and found Dwalin to be very much in the sights of a very large bow. Lit from behind they couldn't make out his features but Josephine could put the pieces together well enough for herself.

Dwalin did let go of her, but quickly pushed her behind him instead. "Now look here ya-"

"Release her." Bard tugged the string on his bow just a little tighter and took a few steps towards them, careful not to relinquish his high ground. "Now."

Before things could get any more misjudged and heated, Josephine shoved Dwalin out of her way and took a few steps towards him. "Don't let them fool you, they're big softies."

"Be that as it may, their treatment of you leaves something to be desired. Are you in need of assistance?" He lowered his bow as she came closer but kept it notched.

"I can handle this lot, trust me." She said tiredly, crossing her arms to try and get warm. For all the stench, she did miss how warm Dwalin was.

"That barge, it wouldn't be for hire, would it?" Balin stepped forward, earning a quick shift in Bard's aim.

Several long, tense moments passed before Bard lowered his bow, looking them all over long enough to realize they were more of a pack of drowned rats than threats. He sighed and with a shake of his head turned to see to the barrels that were slowly drifting towards the dock.

"What makes you think I would help you?" Bard asked them, loading the barrels while they waited on the dock.

Fili had taken Dwalin's place and thrown his arm around her to try and warm her up while she stuffed her hands into her arms.

"Those boots have seen better days. As has that coat." Balin bargained. "No doubt you have some hungry mouths to feed. How many bairns?"

"A boy and two girls." Bard responded, looking at them warily as he stowed the next barrel.

"And ye'r wife, I imagine she's a beauty."

Josephine frowned as Bard looked up at the sky. "Aye," then turned to them with a furrowed brow. "She was."

Balin's bargaining tone dropped. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Oh come on, enough with the niceties." Dwalin complained.

"What's your hurry?" Bard asked, overhearing.

Dwalin, content standing on a boulder several feet above the docks answered, "What's it to you?"

"I would like to know who you are, and what you are doing in these lands."

"We are simple merchants from the Blue Mountains." Balin lied. "Journeying to see our kin in the Iron Hills."

Bard bought none of it. "Simple merchants you say? And what of her?" He nodded to Josephine. "You mean to tell me she's a merchant as well?"

"Nay, she's not, ye'r right. We're escorting' her to her husband, you see. He's a tanner, lives just outside Hammerstead."

Still skeptical, Bard looked over at her. "Is this true?"

"He went on ahead to build our homestead, we hail from Bree, if you know it."

Thorin was growing impatient just like Dwalin and interjected. "We need food, supplies, weapons. Can you help us?"

Bard still didn't believe them, but he could pretend to just enough to make some coin. He brushed his hand over one of the deep nicks in their mountain transports. "I know where these barrels came from."

"What of it?" Thorin asked warily.

Bard smirked and gave a shake of his head. "I don't know what business you had with the elves, but I don't think it ended well. No one enters Laketown but by leave of the Master. All his wealth comes from trade with the Woodland Realm. He would see you in irons before risking the wrath of King Thranduil."

"Offer him more." Thorin mouthed to Balin.

"I'll wager there are ways to enter that town unseen." Balin added.

"Aye." Bard agreed. "But for that, you'd need a smuggler."

"For which we would pay. Double."

Chapter Text

Double was agreed to by Bard and they joined the barrels on the barge as the afternoon waned. Bard took her wet cloak and hung it over the edge to dry as they set off and Thorin made his round checking on the company.

"Thank you." She made sure to tell him. The elven weave would dry much better from there and she waited impatiently and shivered.

"It will only grow colder as we pass into the deeper waters." Bard told her. "You will need every bit of warmth you can find."

"Yes, thank you." Bilbo added, coming over and leaving the dwarves to grumble and talk at the other end of the barge. "Bilbo Baggins, at your service, I'm sorry, I don't believe I caught your name?"

"Bard." He said courtly.

"Josephine." She tacked on to their introductions.

Bard offered her a kind smile, then frowned slightly and let go of the rudder. He looked like he was about to shrug off his coat but got interrupted as Thorin reached them.

"Mr. Baggins, go sit with the others and get warm."

A breeze blew across the water and she flinched.

"Have you nothing in the way of blankets on this barge?" He snapped.

"I have naught but the sail and what I wear on my back, master dwarf. I do not tend to carry passengers, let alone ones ill prepared for the journey."

Thorin's arm wound around her shoulders. "Come, you will be warmer near the company."

"Here." Bard followed through and shrugged off his coat, handing it off to Thorin. "I cannot be without it for long in these waters, but it will help her for now."

Thorin snatched it and dropped it over her shoulders, offering her instant relief. "Thank you."

"Go on now, tuck in." Thorin gave her a push towards the Company and stayed behind with Bard.

She slipped in between Gloin and Oin and closed the coat around her. As she started to warm up her eyelids got heavy. When she opened them again, the stars were coming out and she realized quite suddenly several hours had passed.

"Lookin' much better lass." Oin applauded. "Thought ye'd turn to solid ice before nightfall."

Stiffly, she pushed off their shoulders to climb to her feet and shrugged off the coat. "Well if he doesn't get this back, that'll be our bargeman. Keep my seat warm."

He took it back thankfully, slipping his arms back through the sleeves and relishing in the warmth like she had a few hours before. In turn he handed her her now dry cloak that she pulled around her tightly. She rushed back to the company, finding Gloin had passed out and fallen into Oin's shoulder.

"Josephine, over here." Bilbo patted the spot next to him where Thorin dozed with just enough space between the two for her fit.

She held up her hand to let him know she'd be right there and skirted around Ori who was asleep in a ball in the center of all of them.

Kili was asleep but Fili, right beside him, was not. She kneeled down in front of Kili and pressed her hand to his forehead, hard to tell when they were all so cold if he was spiking a temperature.

"He is warm." Fili confirmed, looking worriedly at her.

"I told him not to go up there." She mumbled under her breath.

Fili kept his eyes glued to her and ears pricked for everything she said. "Will he be alright?"

Josephine smiled and squeezed Fili's arm. "I think so. We'll bind it properly when we get to town. There's some herbs that might help." Not a full lie, she would do that and athelas would help, at least for a while. But it was a Morgul shaft, she wasn't even sure Aragorn could've handled it. Her best hope was the flash of Tauriel she'd seen at the gate, and barring that…well surely any elf would do…right?

She could see that Fili wasn't fully trusting what she was saying, but he didn't want to not believe her either so he nodded in agreement. "Yeah, we'll get him to town and get it taken care of."

Josephine sank into the spot between Bilbo and Thorin. She threw her arm and cloak around Bilbo's shoulders and pulled him in close, tucking her hand under the hem so she wouldn't wake up with frostbite. Then as she was about to lean her head back against the barrels to go back to sleep Thorin shifted and threw his own arm over her shoulders, pulling her hood up over her head first before settling down.

When morning came it was foggy and dreary. Frost had settled over all of them and the barge was slick with ice. Bard had woken up before them all, pulling up the anchor and setting off as chunks of ice bumped against the barge as it traveled.

She and Bilbo stood by the edge, she'd folded him into her cloak like a baby bird and they did their best to keep as much of the breeze out from under the folds as they could.

"This is the last time I go on a quest in the winter." She grumbled. "This is twice now. Last time it was snow. This time it's water. I'm over it. I swear, this time I really am going to vacation in the desert."

"When I get home, I'm going to set myself in front of my fire and stay there. For a week!"

The barge swung around and dark shapes began to appear out of the fog. Beside them, Bofur was startled. "What out!"

Bard deftly moved them through the old stone ruins sunk into the lake. Thorin had decidedly less faith in him though.

"What are you trying to do, drown us?"

"I was born and bred on these waters, master dwarf. If I wanted to drown you, I would not do it here."

"Oh, I've had enough of this lippy lakeman." Dwalin grumbled. "I say we throw him over the side and be done with it."

"Oh, Bard!" Bilbo sighed. "His name is Bard."

"How do you know?" Bofur asked.

"Ah, I asked him." Bilbo sassed.

"I don't care what he calls himself. I don't like him." Dwalin continued.

Josephine scoffed. "You don't like him because he's got more sass than you, just admit it."

Balin interjected before they could start arguing. "We do not have to like him, we simply have to pay him." He was counting out stacks of silver coins on an overturned crate. "Come on now, lads. Turn out your pockets."

"How do we know that he won't betray us?" Dwalin asked Thorin quietly, but just loud enough for Josephine to hear.

She was having one of those days when their antics were getting on her nerves. Maybe it was the cold. "Because I say so, stop being so paranoid."

"There's a…wee bit of a problem. We're ten coins short." Balin informed them.

Thorin folded his arms and looked down his nose. "Gloin. Come on. Give us what you have."

"Don't look to me! I have been bled dry by this venture and what have I seen for my investment?"

The dwarves had stopped listening, and so had she and Bilbo as a new shape came through the clouds from far off. Josephine had to pause. The last time they'd gotten a glimpse of it, she'd been half dead on a carrock, if they'd even seen it then at all.

There it was, the final leg of their journey. The place where the battle would be fought. Erebor was waiting, and it was her only hope for going home.

Gloin suddenly shoved one last coin purse into Balin's hands and Bilbo coughed into his fist to warn them all that they had company.

Bard hurried over to them. "The money, quick. Give it to me."

"We'll pay you when we get our provisions, but not before." Thorin was firm.

"If you value your freedom, you'll do as I say. There are guards ahead." He looked towards the horizon where the sun was starting to rise over the hills and the spindly shapes of docks were coming into view. "Into the barrels, all of you. I have a plan."

First they were back in the barrels, then fish rained down on them and blocked out all the light. It would be ages before Josephine would be able to approve any seafood meals when she got home. She and Bilbo shared a barrel, being the smallest two and having found themselves one barrel short. It wasn't long before Bard was snapping at them all to be quiet and a sharp voice called out nearby.

Everything was muffled but she tried to listen in on his conversation with Alfrid. Footsteps were followed by the sound of fish spilling into the lake, but they stopped seconds later and the voice called out again.

"Raise the gate!"

Soon, but not soon enough they could hear Bard start turning over the barrels. Josephine pushed herself up and out of the fish, dragging Bilbo after her.

On the boardwalk, Bard passed off a coin to a man watching. "You didn't see them. They were never here. The fish you can have for nothing."

He skirted up the row of them all hurriedly. "Stay close."

Josephine stuck to his heels, waiting as he ushered the dwarves on ahead. It'd be easier for her to slip off and hide than it would be for them.

"Keep your heads down and keep moving. Quickly now."

"HALT!"

Their heads snapped up to catch the pointed helmet of a guard across the market.

"In the name of the Master of Lake-town, I said halt!"

The dwarves began to run and Josephine pressed back against the buildings and out of their way as they barreled into the market.

In the span of twenty seconds they'd spread out and taken down three guards, slipping into hiding spots before reinforcements showed up. Josephine pulled her hood down low and ducked behind Bard.

"Stay here."

He left her behind the pillar and jogged out into the market. "Braga!"

"You…What are you up to, Bard?"

"Me? Nothing."

Braga rushed back behind the market stalls, seeing nothing except the plants and crates that masked his unconscious men.

"Braga," Bard interjected again, holding up a chemise. "Your wife would look lovely in this."

"What do you know of my wife?

"I know her as well as any man in this town." Bard said, dropping one of the straps and looking purposefully dumbfounded.

Braga stormed off, embarrassed, and took his conscious men with him. The second they were out of sight, Bard was rushing them off again, glancing over her shoulder every other second until Bain flew around a corner. "Da! Our house, it's being watched."

"Now what?" Thorin snapped.

Bard looked around for a moment, then pursed his lips and nodded. "I have an idea, but it won't work for all of you."

Josephine didn't have to guess what he meant by that when his eyes landed on her. "If I swim in this lake I'll get hypothermia and probably die." They'd have to get in the water far enough that nobody would see them approaching Bard's house. She'd be lucky if any of her limbs still worked the second she hit the water. In hindsight, she hadn't really thought about how to circumvent that, given she hadn't really thought about how fucking cold the water had to be to have ice floating around in it 24/7.

He frowned, confused how she knew what he was getting at, but nodded. "Exactly. However…" He put his hand flat on top of her head and drew it straight to his chin. "Yes, I suppose you're about Sigrid's height. Here," He took three steps to a vendor off to their right who's table was stacked with brown cloth and furs. "That coat and hood, for her cloak."

He reached for the clasp and she grabbed his wrist. "No, absolutely not. This cloak stays with me."

"This or the lake, your choice."

He wasn't letting it go, but there was also nothing else they could give in return. She'd already lost Aragorn's knife to Legolas' sticky fingers, she wasn't about to let go of Gilraen's cloak too. But what else could she do? From the outside looking in she was just being petty, nobody knew where the cloak had come from, and even then…Gilraen would've understood.

Biting her cheek she undid the clasp and handed it over, swallowing a lump in her throat as she was handed a fur coat and hood in return. She watched as the vendor slid the fabric through her hands and inspected the embroidery, then rolled it into a ball that she tucked away under the table.

They set off again, and she pulled on her new clothes while blinking away tears and keeping up with Bard's swift pace.

"Here." He finally stopped and pointed to steps leading down into the water. "My house is four buildings straight down the way. Stay under the walks."

The dwarves, complaining under their breath the whole way, slipped down into the water. Bard pulled the hood up over her head and looked down at her, scrutinizing her disguise. "That should do, just keep your face down and hopefully, they'll think you're my daughter. Come on Bain," He said a bit louder. "Let's get your sister home before she catches a chill."

They collected groceries along the way, piling things into their arms so it looked like they'd just gone out shopping. Josephine trudged up the stairs behind Bain, ducking into the front door as Bard tossed an apple to the two spies waiting below in their boat.

"You can tell the Master I'm done for the day."

The house was warm, at least it felt like that compared to the past twenty-four hours and the chill outside. Josephine pulled her hood down and started to greet the real Sigrid when Bard came in and shut the door behind them.

"Da!" Tilda yelled, running over from the bed to hug him. "Where have you been?"

"Father, there you are! I was worried!"

He hugged Sigrid in turn and handed her his bag of groceries, poking his head out the window. "Bain, get them in."

Tilda and Sigrid both, now that they'd had a chance to really notice something was up, stared at her.

"Father, who-"

"Josephine." She interrupted as Sigrid tried to get a word in while Bain and Bard rushed around the house. "We should get some blankets, there's more coming."

"More?" Then the dwarves began trudging up the stairs. "Da, why are there dwarves climbing out of our toilet?"

"Will they bring us luck?" Tilda asked airily.

Josephine tapped Sigrid's arm to get her attention and nodded to the group slowly forming around the small stove. "Blankets?"

>>><<<

3021

"Aragorn?"

He walked the paths of Rivendell, covered by fog, his pace quickening as he heard her voice on the wind. "Josephine?!"

"Aragorn? Where are you?"

"Josephine!" He skidded to a stop with three paths to choose from. "You must keep calling so I can find you!"

"Where are you?" She yelled again.

It seemed like he could hear her, but she couldn't hear him. He called out her name again, as loud as he could but she didn't answer. The fog was thicker than ever, so dense he could barely see more than a few feet ahead of him.

He knew he had to get to her, somehow, someway, but each time she spoke her voice echoed off the valley, like she was everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Then something caught his eye, tied to the branch of a tree. The pale blue of her token to him blew in the damp breeze along the northernmost path.

Aragorn rushed ahead, taking the token as he passed without question. The fog encircled him and it grew dark until he couldn't see where his feet would land, but then just as quickly as it came, it began to recede and he stood under tall trees, many bare in their winter sleep.

Something on the ground was out of place, a form lying in a dell. Panic seized him and he fell to his knees at her side. "Josephine?!"

She was on her back as if sleeping, sword at her side. Her armor was wrent and stained with blood both black and red. His hands brushed back her matted hair and shook when he found her skin cold.

"Josephine?" He leaned over and pressed his ear to her chest, hearing nothing. "Jos-Josephine? His voice cracked. "No…Josephine, no…" He drew her up into his lap and kissed her head as she laid limp in his arms. It was as if he could feel his head breaking inside his chest, following her to wherever she'd gone. It came out in a sob, deep and tearing at his throat, and from there they wouldn't stop.

Suddenly it was dark again and he was tangled in something. He flung out his arm and caught on fabric, yanking at it until he heard metal clasps pop and heavy velvet crumple onto the rug in a heap.

Bed curtains now half open, moonlight streamed in and his mind came back to where he truly was, lying in their bed while his stomach churned with nausea and the feeling of her blood on his hands lingered.

The dreams seemed to come more often now that the dragon and the battle were nearing. With every step she took towards the mountain, the fear grew in his heart.

Chapter Text

The house was a mass of dripping, grumbling, grumpy dwarves while Bard's children rushed around trying to get them dry clothes and warm drinks. Seeing even the stout dwarves so affected by the cold water she whispered a silent thankyou to Gilraen for the protection her gift had given, even up to what it offered when she had to give it up.

She wove through the hoard, kneeling down next to Kili who'd sunk into the window seat, looking paler than the rest. "Alright, lemme see."

He shook his head. "It's fine, Lady Josephine. No need to make a fuss."

"Don't bother fighting me, I'll just win in the end." She reminded him as she tugged gently at the knot of Bojur's scarf that had managed to stay put during everything.

"I-I'm sure Oin can handle it-"

She looked up at him with a tired expression like she was waiting for him to be done talking so she could carry on. As she sat there, Bain passed by handing a stack of clothes off to Bifur and she snagged his sleeve as he came back.

"Yes, miss?"

He seemed totally overwhelmed by what was going on in his house and she felt a bit sorry for him. "My friend here is hurt, can you find us Kingsfoil?"

"What? The stuff we feed to the pigs?"

Bard, catching a snippet of their conversation, came over to find out what was going on. "What is it you need?"

"She wants Kingsfoil, Da."

Josephine could tell he was getting a little frustrated with all the demands but he nodded and gave Bain's shoulder a pat.

"Alright, run out and get some. I think I saw some growing outside of Marilla's home."

When Bain slipped off, Bard knelt down next to her and looked at the wound. "Was this from your trouble with the elves as well?"

Kili shook his head. "Worse. Orcs."

"I'll have Tilda put water on and find you some bandages."

The muted drone of the house began to disappear as mugs reached hands and hot tea was more important than complaining. Josephine laid Kili's leg out across her lap and tore the hole in his pant leg bigger so she could see what was going on. It looked a little more familiar than she'd hoped, already bluish at the edges.

Dammit, she really didn't have the skill to do anything, they needed Tauriel. Sure, maybe Legolas could help too so long as he showed up but she'd first have to convince him and then hope he had the same skill as Tauriel. Or, she could just hope and pray Tauriel would still show up.

Oin joined her, poking at the edges gingerly while Kili tried to hide his grimace. "We'll wrap it up nice and clean an' see what it looks like come morning. Don't you worry lad, 's not the first arrow wound I've dealt with."

From the other end of the room Bilbo spoke up and Josephine had to key back into what was going on with the story.

"You look like you've seen a ghost." Bilbo observed, joining Thorin at the window and blowing into his mug to cool it.

Balin was the next to join them. "He has. The last time we saw such a weapon…a city was on fire. It was the day the dragon came. The day that Smaug destroyed Dale."

The other dwarves shifted towards Balin as he told the story and Kili perked up, listening closely.

"Girion, the lord of the city rallied his bowmen to fire upon the beast, but a dragon's hide is tough, tougher than the strongest armor. Only a black arrow fired from a windlance could have pierced the dragon's hide, and few of those arrows were ever made. The store was running low when Girion made his last stand."

Thorin kept his gaze out the window, looking lost in thought. "Had the aim of men been true that day, much would have been different."

Having overheard it all just like the rest of them, Bard stepped forward. "You speak as if you were there."

"All dwarves know the tale." Thorin defended.

Tilda, having a personal stake in the story himself, joined in. "Then you would know that Girion hit the dragon. He loosened a scale under the left wing. One more shot and he would have killed the beast."

Dwalin chuckled. "That's a fairy story, lass. Nothing more."

Josephine caught his eye. "Don't be so quick to discount fairy stories, Dwalin." She knew from experience. After all, Dwalin was a fairy story to her once too.

Bain appeared not long after that, while Bard disappeared to get their weapons. He handed her a fistfull of green leaves and stems, surprisingly hearty in the cold. She did what Aragorn had shown her, bathed the wound, packed it with a poultice, and wrapped it in clean bandages. It was all she could do, the magic portion was beyond her skill entirely.

Behind her, the dwarves argued with Bard, unsatisfied with the supply of weapons he was providing. Once the man left the house, they began to debate.

"Well then, if he says they're in the town armory we'll go to the town armory." Bofur suggested.

"Agreed. All of you, gather your things." Thorin commanded. "Josephine, get him up, we're leaving."

For all their loudness, the dwarves were remarkably good at sneaking around and they managed to stay hidden in the town until night fell. They located the armory, and a window on the second story they could climb in through. One by one, Thorin sent them up their dwarf made staircase of half the company and at the top, Bilbo was waiting to help her crawl into the dark staircase.

"I suppose I'm earning my Burglar title today, now aren't I." He joked in a whisper.

"I think today, we all are." She smirked, following the next dwarf up the steps where there were racks upon racks of weapons.

Thorin came next and set them to work, stacking swords and axes in Kili's arms as Bofur and Nori collected them. He'd take them downstairs and unlock the door to pass them to the rest of the company who waited outside.

Thorin caught him right before he went down, checking on him as he grunted under the weight. But like he'd been doing with the rest of him, Kili lied with a straight face and carried on, all the way to the second step of the staircase where his knee gave out under him and he fell. The clamor was deafening and Josephine waited near the window as the others took up arms, earning nothing but swords at their throats.

The guards dragged them from the armory towards the Master's house and dumped them in a half circle in the square at his door. The townspeople gathered around them and Josephine wondered wryly, when these kinds of things had become normal enough for her that her adrenalin didn't even kick in.

The Master burst through the door, pulling on his coat. "What is the meaning of this?!"

"We caught 'em stealing weapons, Sire." Braga informed him proudly.

"Ah. Enemies of the state, ehm?"

Beside him, Alfrid smeared. "A desperate bunch of mercenaries if ever there was, Sire."

This time it was Dwalin's turn to run the gambit and he stepped forward. "Hold your tongue! You do not know to whom you speak. This is no common criminal. This is Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror!"

Not missing a beat, Thorin raised his head and stepped forward. "We are the Dwarves of Erebor, and we have come to reclaim our homeland."

Whispers ran through the crowd behind them and Thorin stepped even closer to the steps to the Master's house.

"I remember this town in the great days of old, fleets of boats lay at harbor, filled with silks and fine gems. This was no forgotten outpost, no forsaken town on a lake. This was the center of all trade in the North! I would see those days return, I would re-light the great forges of the Dwarves, and send riches and wealth flowing once more from the Halls of Erebor."

"Death!" Bard yelled, pushing through the throng of townspeople. "That is what you will bring upon us! Dragon-fire and ruin! If you waken that beast, you will destroy us all!"

Josephine stayed back. It was best to let them have at it since she didn't trust Thorin to follow his word once the dragon sickness took hold, and while Bard was right about Smaug, it still had to be done.

"You can listen to this naysayer...but I promise you this, if we succeed all will share in the wealth of the Mountain, you will have enough gold to rebuild Esgaroth ten times over!" Thorin's voice rose to a roar and enticed the crowd to excitement.

"All of you, listen to me, you must listen!" Bard begged. "Have you forgotten what happened to Dale? Have you forgotten those who died in the firestorm...and for what purpose? The blind ambition of a Mountain King so driven by greed he could not see beyond his own desire?"

The Master finally found fit to intervene and added his snide, two cents. "Now, now...we must not, any of us, be too quick to lay blame...Let us not forget it was Girion, Lord of Dale, your ancestor who failed to kill the beast."

"It is true, Sire, we all know the story. Arrow after arrow he shot, each one missing its mark." Alfrid added.

Josephine leaned over to mumble in Bilbo's ear. "If he so much as looks at me sideways I'll punch him in the face."

"So long as I'm there to see it." He smirked.

Bard glared at Thorin, almost begging him. "You have no right, no right to enter that mountain!"

"I have the only right!" Thorin yelled, turning his back on Bard and addressing the Master. "I speak to the Master of the Men of the Lake. Will you see the Prophecy fulfilled? Will you share in the great wealth of our people? What say you?"

>>><<<

With three welcomes from the Master, they were brought into his house, old and ornate and stuffed with tapestries and books. If not for the layer of grime and consistent smell of piss, it would've been a nice place to stay, but as it was, she wished she was bunking with Bard and his kids instead of having to play nice with the Master.

The night was late, or the morning was early depending on how they looked at it. There was talk of a feast the next day and days of celebration while the company rested and got outfitted for the journey. It sounded like they'd spend the fortnight in Lake-town that the company did in the book, instead of leaving the next morning. Another long wait for catastrophe to come was how Josephine felt about it, and more time that she had to stave off the effects of Kili's wound while she waited for Legolas and Tauriel to show up.

Two worn looking servants prepared a room for the company to sleep hurriedly while the Master talked up Thorin who nodded very seriously along with the man's tirades.

"I think I liked the dungeons better." She muttered to Dwalin.

"Aye. Ye stick close. I don't like the look of either of them."

He watched Alfrid and the Master, neither of which had gotten over to introduce themselves yet. She would've preferred it if they didn't. "Got any knives?"

Dwalin grunted and leaned over, plucking something out of Fili's hair and handing it to her hilt first. "The lad nicked it from the armory before anyone saw." He said quietly. "If they step out of line…won't look good to get caught guttin' one of them."

"So what, just scare them a bit?"

He scoffed. "Nah. I mean if they do something to deserve guttin', don't get caught."

Chuckling, she slipped the knife into her boot. "Noted."

"An' that's only if one of us doesn't get to 'em first. He is a right grimy lookin' bastard, isn't he?"

Josephine smirked and nudged him with her elbow. "Which one?"

Chapter Text

They all slept like rocks that night, curled up in bed rolls on a carpet that kicked up dust if you looked at it wrong. Being called to breakfast in the late morning, surely following the Master's schedule, they entered the cramped dining room to find the same two servants setting out platters of fish and pitchers of milk.

Josephine smiled courtly and falsely as Alfrid intercepted her at the door, holding out his arm. "The Master would like to do you the honor of sitting at his side."

Thorin was seated at his right already, but the seat to his left was empty. She met Thorin's eyes and he gave her an apologetic look.

"Thank you." She said tightly, avoiding his offered escort and walking herself up.

Alfrid jogged to get there first and pulled out her chair with an overzealous sweep of his arm. Josephine's appetite left her completely.

"Ah!" The Master exclaimed while pulling fishbones from between his lips. "And here is the great beauty you have brought with you." He held his hand out to her. "Othur, Master of Lake-town."

Thorin cleared his throat while she kept her hands in her lap, but she did pull a diplomatic sort of smile. "Josephine."

"Josephine?" He repeated. "What a…unique name."

"She is of great renown in Gondor, a lady of standing." Thorin added pointedly, catching her eye from around the Master. "We have been lucky to have her join us. We will see her returned to her city once our quest is complete."

The Master's eyes widened gleefully. "My goodness! I didn't realize!" Then his gleeful eyes narrowed but his smirk stayed. "Perhaps after our meal you might accompany me on a tour of my most lovely town?"

Josephine looked over at Thorin again with pursed lips. He nodded pointedly to the Master and mouthed a silent "Please?"

"Lady Josephine?" The Master asked when she hadn't answered.

"Yes, of course. I've seen so little of it after all." Thorin Oakensheild was going to pay dearly for every second of that walk.

Of all the lords and guests and people she'd entertained while in Gondor's courts, all the long lunches and feasts, their breakfast became the longest and the most painful. Once he'd had his fill, the Master left to prepare for their walk and Josephine leaned across his empty chair to Thorin. "Are you out of your goddamn mind?!"

"Angering him before we have provisions and weapons could endanger the quest. It is merely a walk through the town, and I will send Fili with you."

"You're whoring me out to get weapons?!"

Thorin looked shocked and offended, even concerned. "Josephine, I would never ask that of you! No matter how dire our situation!"

"Right. Sorry, figure of speech. I didn't mean…whoring…whoring. I meant you're using me to get on his good side and I'll tell you right now, I do NOT appreciate it!"

"If we anger him he might change his mind and send us back to the Woodland Realm in chains as the Bargeman said."

She threw her napkin onto the stained tablecloth and glared at him. "You. Owe. Me."

"If you do not return within an hour, I will-"

"Oh trust me, one way or another I'll be back within the hour."

The chair legs scraped across the floor as she got up and left the room with Fili following right on her tail.

"You wanna know what was great about the last quest I was on?" She asked him, pausing outside the door to the main hall where she could hear the Master talking with Alfrid. "Nobody in my last company would've asked me to sweet talk the town megalomaniac because he thought I was pretty."

He caught her arm right as she was about to push the door open and smiled conspiratorially. "Give the bastard fifteen minutes to keep him happy, then, I have an idea."

Draped in a musty, heavy brocade coat gifted to her by the Master when they'd entered the hall, she walked alongside him at his slow gait as he spoke loftily about the town and downplayed the poverty he'd instigated.

"I know it must not look as grand as you're used to in Gondor, but the potential!" He said, holding his fist out in front of him. "There's more than you could ever imagine! Especially once your friend Thorin takes back the mountain. We'll be richer than Gondor! Grander than Gondor!"

"It will be quite a feat for you to build grander than the men of Numenor." She smiled with a sickly sweetness. "They'll surely speak of your accomplishments for many thousands of years."

The Master ate it up, starting off on yet another monologue about his plans as they passed the fifteen minute mark.

Right on schedule, Fili laid his hand on her arm. "My lady, are you well? You look pale as ice."

Pausing with them, the Master looked at her. "Pale? Why, she's not pale at all."

"Oh, Fili, you're right." She said fearfully, laying her hand on his shoulder. "I'm beginning to feel quite faint."

Fili shook his head and put his arm around her waist so she could lean on him. "All of this long travel has been so hard on you. Come, let me take you back to the house to rest?"

"Oh no, I'm certain I will be fine soon enough. I don't want to cut short the Master's tour." She watched the Master and waited to see which side of the coin he'd fall on.

"Yes, yes she said so herself, she'll be fine." He smiled, holding his arm out. "Allow me, my lady."

And onto step two of their plan, since he didn't buckle under the first step. She smiled at him again, acting like she was about to take his arm and continue the tour. But several feet shy of him she buckled her knees and let Fili catch her.

"Lady Josephine!"

She fell into his arms, going so far as to lay the back of her hand against her forehead and close her eyes. "Fili?" She said weakly.

He looked up at the Master firmly. "I'm terribly sorry, but I must get her back."

"Of-of course. Yes! I shall send for a healer, of course."

"No need!" Fili said quickly. "We have one in our company."

Josephine grasped at Fili's collar and grimaced. "Fili, my head, it spins terribly."

"Come, my lady, I've got you."

They were both stifling laughter as he picked her up like a wounded baby animal and hurried back the way they'd come.

The second they got back into the company's quarters he put her down and they burst out laughing.

"You're ridiculous, I've never believed a word from your mouth less!"

"Couldn't have done it without you." She bent over her knees, wheezing and mimicking him. "Oh, gosh my lady you look so pale!"

Having seen her arrive in Fili's arms and looking like she was unconscious, the rest of the company rushed in while they broke down.

Fili threw his hand against his head like she had and raised the pitch of his voice. "Oh Fili, I'm so faint! All of this walking is simply too much for me!" He proceeded to throw himself onto her in a faint and they landed in a heap on the ground in front of everyone.

Thorin pushed to the front and folded his arms. "What is the meaning of this?"

Lost in a fit of laughter, his demand only made them crack harder and finally Josephine wheezed. "Mission," Wheeze. "Accomplished."

"If anybody asks-" Fili sputtered. "She's taken ill from travel."

Bilbo smirked as he joined Thorin, easily catching on to at least the idea of what happened. "Yes, of course. She certainly couldn't be expected to be present at any long feasts or excursions now."

Slowly, a badly hidden smirk tugged at Thorin's lips and he sighed. "Very well. We will uphold your ruse as best we can. But I would suggest you quit making a spectacle before someone sees it."

"Yes, of course, Uncle." Fili coughed, stifling more laughter as he stood and helped her up.

>>><<<

Aragorn had slid down in his armchair in their sitting room, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as he struggled through the aftermath of yet another night of dreams.

Elrond stood beside the chair and passed his hand across Aragorn's brow with a frown. "I will prepare a draught to help you sleep, Estel, but not all dreams are meant to be ignored."

"I wish you would not say such things when many of those dreams tell me she is dead." He sighed, trying not to choke on the final word.

"You have said not all of them bring such grief. And take comfort in the silence of your friends. If she had fallen during the battle for the mountain, they would have already brought you those tidings."

Aragorn supposed he was right, Legolas and Gandalf wouldn't have been so silent about her journey if she'd fallen by the end. He'd had to remind himself that many times, but some of his dreams had been so heavy he'd begun to question it.

"Then which of my dreams do I listen to? How do I know what is to be heard and what is to be ignored?"

Elrond offered him a sympathetic smile and grasped his shoulder. "Ignore that which comes from fear, and place your mind on the dreams that are born of hope."

>>><<<

Later, after she'd redressed Kili's leg and dodged numerous questions from him about how it was doing, Thorin pulled her into an alcove. She'd been less worried the day before when she thought Legolas and Tauriel were going to show up that night. Now it might be two weeks, or longer.

"Tell me truthfully, how does he fare? Is this what you have come to save him from?"

Josephine avoided the second half and focused on the first question. "He's getting worse. I might be holding it off but this isn't a normal arrow wound."

"What do you mean? Was it poisoned?"

She shook her head. "I've seen something like this before and it's way out of my league, or anyone else's around here. He's got a good chance if I can just get him through the next week or so."

"What happens then?" At her hesitation he grew frustrated. "Mahal, you cannot tell me this much and not continue."

"He needs elvish medicine. Those orcs are from Gundabond, it was a Morgul arrow."

"Dark magic." Thorin closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall of the alcove. "Thranduil would never help us."

"Thranduil doesn't need to, others are coming." Hopefully. "But Kili can't go with you to the mountain."

"He's been told stories of it since he was a boy. It would all but break his spirit not to be there when we enter the mountain."

"If he doesn't stay behind and wait for the elves, he'll die. And that's only if I can get him to make it to then. When you set out, I'll stay behind with him. You need to make sure Oin, Fili, and Bofur do too."

"Very well. Once again, I will defer to your counsel. What can be done to delay his illness?"

Crossing her arms she tried to remember the things that Aragorn had done for Frodo in the Trollshaws. Here at least they had more options but she doubted that would help much. "Sunlight and all the athelas we can find. I'm not sure there's anything else." Two weeks was such a long time, but then again, Frodo had lasted that long while a piece of the blade was still in his chest. But Hobbits were particularly hardy when it came to Sauron's influences, so how would Kili do? "Oin might have more ideas."

"Josephine, please be truthful with me. Is this his fate that you have come to stop?" His eyes begged her, brows knit together with worry.

"No, that is…potentially easier to circumvent at this point." That at least she could fight with a sword.

"Strangely enough that offers me comfort." He grumbled.

Chapter Text

Thorin got more and more antsy as days passed and became nearly unbearable to be around, so the dwarves dispersed through the town and Kili pretended he was as whole and hale as the rest of them.

Josephine, all too aware of the danger he was in, couldn't rest and couldn't relax. She had to keep him alive until Legolas and hopefully Tauriel arrived and then convince them to help her. She hovered when she could get away with it without worrying the rest of the company, and when she couldn't she left to do some wandering of her own. They'd need a lot more athelas than the small bunch Bain had left her with days ago.

One bunch she snagged out of the mouth of a hog, and slowly she began a street by street combing of the homes to find more. She was hunched down to cut the leaves from a plant growing out of a home's foundation when a shadow passed over her.

"Gatherin' flowers, miss?" Alfrid's sickly sweet voice asked from behind her.

Josephine gripped the handle of the knife she'd been using and straightened back up, turning to face him and grimacing as a breeze made her very aware she was downwind of him.

His smile made her tuck her lips into a stiff line. "Is that okay?"

"If it's flowers ye want, the Master will get you the finest available." He took a few steps towards her that she matched by stepping back, keeping her distance. "You seem much improved since the other day. The Master will be pleased."

"Just getting some fresh air, I'm still feeling a bit under the weather."

She didn't really think Alfrid could do much to her, she doubted he was all that strong under his heavy coat, but the same old caution of being stuck with a man in a deserted corner was hard to shake.

"Well then allow me to escort you back to the house, wouldn't want ye feeling faint on the way back. The Master is quite fond of you after all, might have a place here if ye play ye'r cards right."

"I'll be fine, I promise." She smiled stiffly. "I won't keep you from your duties."

"'S no trouble, miss." He stuck out his arm for her.

Josephine opened her mouth to rebuke him again with all the politeness she could muster but she didn't get a chance before a third person interrupted.

"Alfrid, she'll return when she's ready." Bard snapped, stepping up behind Alfrid and leaning over him just enough to make him feel uncomfortable. "So you'd best be off."

Alfrid spun around and almost popped onto his toes to get closer to Bard's eye level. "The Master won't stand for you interfering, you'd best watch yourself."

Bard grasped Alfrid by the back of his coat and shoved him back up the road. He stumbled, glanced back over his shoulder, and then stalked away.

Bard watched until he was well on his way and then turned back to her, nodding to the knife still clutched in her hand. "No need to fend me off, I'm not going to pursue you in his stead."

Josephine nodded with a silent laugh and slipped the knife back into her boot. "I appreciate it. I know you probably don't want anything to do with any of us right now after figuring out who's leading us."

"Even that would not keep me from coming to your aid against Alfrid. When it comes to the unsavory in this town, he's one of the worst, though I feel you would have Alfrid well in hand if I had not come."

"Not sure how well things would've gone for me after I was finished with him though."

"Yes. You wouldn't want to anger the Master before you and your friends get what you need from him." He said with an accusatory tone. "You must have great need for the riches of the mountain to put up with such as Alfrid and the Master. Or does a great lady of the Southern Countries not have a need for gold?"

Word had gotten around town, utterly contradicting the story they'd given Bard about where she was headed, not that the lie hadn't become obvious the moment the dwarves' plans were revealed in the town square that night. "You have no reason to believe a word I tell you, but never for a second has this quest had anything to do with the gold in that mountain for me."

"Then why risk your life in its pursuit?"

"Because there's so much more at stake than treasure, enough to pay for the blood I've given for it a thousand times over."

Bard watched her carefully, fearfully even, like he could see the dragon's fire in his mind as clearly as he could see the earnest look in her eyes. "I do not understand your reasons, but I cannot deny your honesty. But know this, I still believe your mission a dangerous gamble. You will find no further help from me in its pursuit." He dipped his chin and turned to leave, pausing just long enough to gesture to the brocade coat she'd been gifted. "The merchant to which I traded your cloak has yet to sell it, the material is too fine for most to afford. That coat would be more than enough."

And with that, he left, and she rushed off to the market.

>>><<<

In her head, Josephine had convinced herself she'd be fine once the wounds had scarred over. Sure, she might need to build back some muscle like she had with her injury from Morannon, but she'd be back in fighting shape by the time it would be necessary. Or so she'd thought. She'd muddled through their encounter with the spiders and the orcs on the river, but the Battle of the Five Armies wasn't going to be so forgiving.

She'd waited for the dwarves to be out and about for the day and leave their communal sleeping quarters before she took up the nearest fire poker and began working through the movements Boromir had started her on so many years ago. Her sword was still, presumably, locked in an armory in Mirkwood, she'd have to get it back once she got home. The poker wasn't well balanced and was a bit heavier than her sword, but she'd be switching from an elven blade to a sword made by Dale, maybe the difference in feel would be beneficial when they were armed.

Skin pinched and scars pulled, her arm shook and slowly panic began to rise in her chest. How could she fight with them like this? How could she battle Azog to save Thorin and his nephews if she couldn't even hold a block against thin air?

Throwing the poker to the ground with a heavy thump on the dusty carpet she swore and pressed her fingers to her burning eyes.

"It will take time to regain your strength." Thorin's voice said from behind her.

Blinking away tears she kept her back to him. "If I can't fight, I don't know if I can save you."

"The toll your injuries have taken is not within your control." He reminded her gently.

Josephine nudged the poker with her toe and turned around. "Well I need to do better than this."

Somberly, Thorin shut the door and gave them more privacy to talk. "I do not doubt you will do all you can, but if it is not enough, then that is my fate. I would not wish you to bear blame for it."

"Fili and Kili will have the same fate as you, I know you're not as ready to throw them under the bus."

He sighed heavily, looking frustrated. "Can you not speak plainly in the common tongue for just once?

"Same place." She said firmly, slicing her hand down through the air to punctuate each sentence. "Same day. Same time. I have to save all three of you and I can barely hold a damn fire poker above my waist for more than a few seconds without shaking!"

"The Valar cannot fault you for such a thing. They will return you home regardless, Josephine."

"This isn't just about going home, for Christ's sake!" She hissed, not able to yell in case they were overheard. "I'm not going to stand here and let my friends die when I can do something. I'm gonna save your sorry, stubborn ass so that when I get home I can come back to Erebor and we'll sit down and tell stories just like you said we would back in the Lone Lands."

"Josephine, you are a Seer of our fates, but you are not the master of them. Perhaps if you tell me how we are to fall, I too can try and circumvent it?"

"And if you take what I tell you and make assumptions and change your behavior and everything goes to shit because of it? No. I could end up getting the entire Company killed." The Company, the people of Dale, lose the entire battle for all she knew? There was no telling what Thorin could do with that information once he was under the Dragon Sickness. She'd already been flippant enough with how much she'd disclosed to people. Within a matter of days they'd split up and by the time she was at the gates of Erebor, he'd be slipping into madness. It was so close. Too close. For as much as the two of them butted heads, Josephine was fond of her grumpy dwarven friend, the idea of him going mad with Dragon Sickness made her stomach churn.

In her following silence Thorin didn't press, or argue. But he did pick up the fire poker and hand it back to her. "Very well. Then we should begin."

"Begin what?" She took the fire poker from him, having her assumptions, but she needed him to confirm exactly what he was planning.

Suddenly, trying and succeeding to catch her off guard, he grasped a branch from the stack by the fire and swung it towards her. The wood hit the metal poker in her hand and the impact sent a shock all the way up her arm and down her shoulders. For the second time the poker hit the rug with a dull thud though this time it had been out of her control.

"Fuck! A little notice would've been nice!"

"A dragon will give you no notice." He replied sharply. "Again."

"A dragon isn't going to attack me with a log for the fire." She snapped, snatching her weapon off the carpet. This time she swung at him, gritting her teeth at the impact when his block rattled her. She was swinging too hard for her own good, too much for her body to quite be prepared for anymore.

Thorin shrugged off his heavy coat and rolled up his sleeves. "You are stiff, and I daresay the cold in this town helps little. Come. Again."

Over and over she swung the poker and blocked his attacks. Again and again it slipped from her hand. She was panting and grinding her teeth trying to muster the strength to strike at him each time he repeated 'again' until finally, Valar only knew how long into their training, her back seized.

Thorin grabbed for her, slowing her down as she dropped to her knees, breath hissing through her clenched teeth.

"I have to do better." She groaned. "I have to."

"Josephine, perhaps this is a sign that you have done enough. Perhaps your duty was in those caves and so you have fulfilled it. My fate is my own to bear."

He gripped her arms, staring into her eyes like a command to believe what he was saying. But Josephine knew better. And even if he was right, she wasn't going to lead him to the slaughter without trying to stop it.

"I'm not going to walk away and let you die!"

"I may not." He reminded her. "If you were sent to change the future, then it is not set. But if it stays as you have seen, you must accept that."

Her eyes welled as the scenes played in her head, the eyes of each one of them growing dull as they died. "No." She growled.

"Yes." He said softly, but firm in his conviction. He cupped her cheek in his palm and looked at her apologetically. "If the strength of your body is what you need to change our fate, then I beg you let go of that task. I will not trade your life for mine, and that is what I would be doing if I asked you to continue in such a state. I made my own vows of your protection and I refuse to deny them."

Fire burned in her chest and hot tears rolled down her cheek. She wanted so badly to refuse him, but he was right, she wouldn't do him or Fili and Kili any good on the battlefield if she couldn't push past her injury. She wouldn't stop trying, but fear gnawed at her gut wondering if the weakness would linger until it was too late.

"I absolve you of your duty to us, and with that your guilt for our fates. "He pulled her into his arms. "Hush now, you will soon be home and safe again. Of that I am certain."

Perhaps she would. But they wouldn't.

Chapter Text

Josephine squinted in the bright winter sun streaming through the window as she unwrapped the bandage on Kili's knee. She'd forbidden him to sit in darkness despite his complaints about it giving him a headache. If all he had to trade for a few more hours was a headache, she'd accept the trade on his behalf.

It was inflamed, and the veins leading from the wound were outlined by a sickly blue color but he maintained he was fine, and probably would all the way to unconsciousness.

"No walking, nothing strenuous, and keep it below your heart." She frowned.

"Aren't you supposed to keep these things elevated?" He argued.

"Not this one." Reaching over to the table next to them she wrung out a cloth from a steaming bowl of water and took to washing around the wound. "The swelling is a better trade off than fast tracking anything to your heart, especially since we have so much ice to work with around here."

Kili smiled at her. "We dwarves are hearty folk, Lady Josephine. You worry too much. I'll be just fine for the journey tomorrow. Just you see."

"Stop lying to me." She signed, refreshing the cloth and going back to it. "I know you know something's wrong. I've kept the rest of the Company from finding out just how bad this is, but don't think I'm as oblivious as them."

He avoided her eyes when she looked up and pursed his lips into a thin line. "It's just an arrow wound, that's all."

"It's a Morgul arrow wound, Kili. They're not the same and you can tell, so stop pretending! The sooner you start treating it like what it is the longer we'll be able to stave it off until help comes."

"Stave what off?" He said timidly, his brave face cracking at the word Morgul.

Josephine had seen the eyes of a lot of people by now. Elves older than the moon, men with youthful faces and old eyes, and dwarves with a penchant for calling her child when she hadn't been one in well over a decade. Kili had the whiskers of a man, but the eyes of someone much younger than her. He emulated the bravery of the Company well enough when his inexperience could've brought him up short, but by dwarven standards he was barely eighteen.

Josephine could tell she'd scared him, and she'd wished she could've lied to him just like everyone else. But the longer this went on, the more she worried, and the more she needed him to push back against the creeping darkness.

"I'm not leaving for the mountain tomorrow…am I?"

He seemed like someone had cut his strings as her silence offered him his answer.

"We have to get you better first." She said, "Then we'll follow them."

"You're staying too? But I thought-"

"I'm right where I need to be. Plus they can handle the dragon without me." She joked. "So listen to me, trust me, and try to push back against that chill in your chest, okay?"

"Does my uncle agree?"

"If he didn't, I'd make him. He's worried about you too."

Kili huffed and looked away out the window. He squinted in the sun and turned back to the darkened room with a wince of pain. "You tried to stop it. You told me not to go up on that bridge."

She pursed her lips and began packing his wound with the poultice." Can't change everything. Especially not the heroics of young dwarves apparently." She smirked at him and got him to crack at least the ghost of a she'd gotten that she gave his shoulder a squeeze. "There'll be plenty of time for valor and adventure later." She promised him. "Besides, it's not all it's cracked up to be."

"You may be right." He conceded. "But I'd like the chance to find out for myself."

"Well." She said decidedly as she wiped off her hands and reached for the fresh bandages. "If you listen to me and rest this leg, you might just get that chance. So what are your instructions?"

He rolled his eyes with a playfully exasperated shake of his head. "Nothing strenuous, no walking, leg below my heart. Say, where'd you learn all this stuff?"

"My husband is a healer, I picked up a few things from him."

"I shall have to-" He hissed as she began to wrap his leg again. "Thank him in about eighty years. Assuming I'm invited for a visit."

Josephine chuckled. "If I don't see all of you tumbling through my door after I get home I'll be extremely disappointed." But even if she saved the line of Durin, they wouldn't all make it to the end of the War. The number of dwarves at her gate would still come up short and she'd stood in Balin's very tomb without a second thought.

>>><<<

December 2019

Josephine knocked once at the door of Aragorn's study to announce herself and went in without a pause. She dropped her bag by the door and shuffled over to his desk where he sat, bent over a large ledger.

She laid her hands on his shoulders and peered at the numbers. "How do the store rooms look? Will the supplies from the south pad the larders enough?"

The fall harvest had hit much lighter than had been anticipated. Josephine blamed it on orc blood still souring the soil of Pelennor. They weren't in dire straights, but it had put them in an uncomfortably lean position now that the winter solstice was almost there.

Aragorn closed the ledger and leaned back, letting his head rest against her. "Prince Imrahil's contribution leaves me far more comfortable with the coming months." He reached up and grasped one of her hands. "How fares the second level repairs/"

Row upon row of damaged housing, no more or less important than the homes on the first. It had just been a matter of getting to them and now it felt like their time was running out. "The dwarves work quickly but if we're going to get all the holes repaired before weather starts setting in we need to pick up the pace. At least we're as far south as we are, it should be a mild winter if the beekeepers are reading their hives right."

"The people of this city have earned a mild winter." He sighed.

Josephine leaned in and tucked her head into the crook of his neck and wound her arms around his shoulders.

"Does something trouble you, meleth nin?"

"Just needed to come home for a while."

"Then let us go home?" He offered, drawing her around and pulling her onto his lap.

She folded into him, a soft smile on her face as her head came to rest again on his shoulder. "It's alright, I'm home now."

His heart beat in her ear, strong and steady as ever. She swore she would have known it anywhere.

"We should not tarry long. I was brought word that something arrived in our chambers from Ithilien some time ago that requires our attention.

Josephine sat back up and looked at him quizzically. "What are you up to?"

He helped her back to her feet and tried to look innocent. "Nothing, my lady. I know as much of this as you."

"Lies."

"I dare not lie to you."

"Except when you know I won't believe it anyway and you want to be clever." She corrected. "Didn't Legolas get back from Ithilien today?" His favorite place to run off to when the cold stone of the city got to be too much for him. He'd probably brought back a few bucks, a small but added relief for the city's larders.

Hand in hand he shouldered her bag as they left and passed through the halls. He continued to have an almost imperceptible smirk on his face as they walked and she had a feeling whatever was going on was not just a deer or two.

The guard outside their door opened it for them with a dip of his chin and Ciril's voice was immediately recognizable as she came down the hall, stooping every step to pick something off the rug and muttering to herself.

"Okay, what did he do?" She asked, side eyeing Aragorn.

"Oh! My lord, my lady." She bunched up whatever she'd been picking up in her fist. "My lord, they've put it in the sitting room as you asked."

With a smirk, Aragorn put his hands on her hips and guided her towards the sitting room and Josephine froze in the doorway.

"There's a tree in my house?" It stood up in the far corner, nearly as tall as the room itself. Then the pieces clicked together. "You did not have Legolas bring me a tree all the way from Ithilien!"

His smirk now a full grin he bent to kiss her cheek. "Your Yule traditions are much like those of the Hobbits, and you could not celebrate them last year for want of the journey. I thought this might allow you a place to start again; he was going to Ithilien anyway."

Ciril had been collecting the stray pine needles from the carpet now, Josephine realized. A necessary evil she'd gotten used to dealing with year after year back home. She didn't fully understand how much she'd missed even this one part of her holiday traditions until she was staring it square in the eye. The green, bushy, eye.

Excitement sparked in her chest and she grabbed his hands. "We'll have to make ornaments. And I'm gonna drive you crazy singing all the Christmas songs I know." Her eyes lit up. "I can tell you the stories of all my favorite holiday movies!"

"And one day our children can wait excitedly for Satan to come with their gifts."

A laugh burst from her mouth so suddenly she started coughing. "Santa, my love."

"I know. But when I say it wrong, you laugh." He leaned in to kiss her. "Now, tell me these tales of your land's yule."

Chapter Text

The ones that Josephine told Thorin would stay behind, knew her plan, but the rest of the company and their host didn't. They piled on their armor and Josephine threw one of the heavy guardsman's cloaks on over top of Gilraen's. The brocade coat had given more than enough value to trade for her keepsake back.

The entire town gathered on the docks and walkways around the boat that waited for them to depart. On that dock, the company began to split. Those who were going piled in quickly, and she stayed on the slick wood planks with Fili, Kili, Bofur, and Oin around her.

"Well come on then." Bilbo said to her, waving to an empty spot at the back right by him. "Haven't got all day now have we?"

"They're staying behind." Thorin answered for her, causing the rest of the company to still.

"What?" Dwalin barked. "Why?"

Nodding to the five of them Thorin stepped back off the boat. "Kili's not well, he needs to heal before he can join us."

Bilbo sputtered. "But why-"

"Lady Josephine is going to see to him and I will not leave her unguarded. The other three will see to her." Not a word of her having ordered it in just that configuration.

Josephine met Thorin's eye and gave him a grateful nod, starkly aware that this was the last moment of true clarity she'd see in him for a while. "It's the right thing." She said confidently, turning to the rest of the company. "Trust me."

Bilbo stomped off the boat and came up to her, tugging her down by her sleeve so she'd kneel and he could speak quietly.

"And you're sure about this? This isn't about…well, you know…" He grimaced and nodded to her. "Your wounds?"

"This is all according to plan, I promise. But you have to go with them. The rest of us will follow when it's time." She found herself swallowing a lump in her throat as she looked at him. She'd grown used to having Bilbo around, now she wouldn't see him for weeks.

Bilbo nodded to her firmly and pulled her in for a tight hug. "Goodbye, Josephine."

Off tune fanfare started, played on long golden horns that sounded like nobody had touched them in decades. That was Thorin's cue and he interrupted them.

"Come along, Mr. Baggins. We cannot linger."

Bilbo followed the others reluctantly and the boat was nearly full, except for Thorin.

"We will see the lot of you once we've taken the mountain. And you," he continued, turning directly to Josephine. "You will restrain yourself from any rash actions. In fact, Fili!"

"Yes, uncle?" He said, shouldering Fili who was beginning to lean more and more heavily on his brother.

"Keep her out of trouble. I expect to see her again in one piece."

He offered a tight, sympathetic hug to Kili and froze when she caught him as he passed and gave him her own tight hug. "Behave yourself, you grumpy bastard."

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. "Only so far as you will in my absence, petulant child."

He stepped away sharply and boarded the boat, offered no last look at the somewhat raggedly bunch left behind.

The much smaller company watched as the boat floated through the ice into the bright eastern sun until it was nothing more than a dark spot on the lake. The second they were out of sight the tone of the crowd changed and the guards swept through, shooing everyone away.

"Lady Josephine." Fili said worriedly, drawing her attention back to Kili. "He cannot stay out here. Are we to go back to the Master's house?"

She scoffed, shrugging off her top cloak and pulling it around Kili's shoulders as he shivered. "Fuck that. I've got a better idea…and he's not just gonna be happy about it."

Kili could barely shuffle his feet by the time they reached Bard's house, Bofur and Fili had practically carried him there. She knocked twice and the door swung outward to the frustrated face of Bard.

"No. I told you, I'm through with dwarves. Go away." He said, his efforts to close his door again stopped by Oin's heavy boot in front of the corner of it.

"Please," Fili pushed up next to her. "My brother's sick."

"The orc arrow." Josephine reminded Bard. "You know nobody else will take us in."

He looked them over, pausing for what seemed like longer than necessary before pushing the door open wider and stepping aside. "Come on. Put him in the bed over there."

As night fell, the children bustled in the kitchen, looking like they were trying to block out the sound of Kili's moans and cries. Josephine sat on the edge of the bed, pressing a cold cloth to his head while Oin fussed with another athelas poultice. They were down to the wire, she only hoped her gambling was going to turn out right.

Durin's day was three weeks away, but she needed Legolas and the orcs to show up that night. If they'd tracked them to Laketown it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that they would be on the right schedule. At least they wouldn't be worrying about a dragon burning down the town for a while.

"We're nearly out." Oin grumbled. "I'll need more."

"I've scoured the whole damn town, there is no more. We'll just have to make do." She said sourly.

Amidst Kili's moans and the clanking of stoneware in the kitchen, a heavy knock interrupted them followed by three guards bursting into the house without waiting.

"Bard! Ye'r under arrest!" Braga said as the other two took him by the arms.

"Da!" Tilda yelled.

"On what charge!" Bard snapped.

"Any charge the Master chooses."

Bain shoved himself in between Bard and Braga. "You're not taking Da anywhere!"

"Bain, I'll be back shortly enough. Look after your sisters."

"But Da-"

"Do as I say!"

Bard was able to take one last worried look around the house as they dragged him out, leaving the door hanging wide open. Silence fell over the room and the children were stunned.

Bofur shut the door against the cold and glanced at them. "He'll be alright. He's not done anythin' wrong…well, cept for sneakin' us in I suppose…"

His platitudes didn't seem to be helping so Josephine caught his attention. "Bofur, go see if you can find more kingsfoil."

She couldn't believe she was hoping for an orc attack, let alone one when they didn't have any weapons and there were three kids running around the house. Three very distracted kids.

Josephine got up from the bed and handed Bain the lukewarm bowl of water she'd been holding. "Here, go get me some more ice from the lake, alright?" She gave him a light push towards the stairs. "Go on now."

Tilda was chopping carrots with tears in her eyes and Sigrid was intently focused on the steaming bowl of stew starting to come together. "Your dad won't be in there forever, I promise."

"Ye best listen to 'er, lasses." Oin added. "She knows what she's talkin' about."

He'd either get out, or she'd break him out. Either way, she'd have him ready to fight Smaug with the black arrow hanging over their table.

>>><<<

An hour passed and Bofur still wasn't back, Kili was only worsening, and they all picked nervously at their dinner for different reasons. The house creaked around them and Josephine jumped, looking up at the ceiling half expecting an orc to crash down through it.

"Are ye alright, Lady Josephine?" Oin asked, pressing another cool cloth to Kili's head.

She opened her mouth to make an excuse but in her moment of distraction, the roof really did cave in. The kids screamed and scattered as an orc crouched on the table, surrounded by shingles and broken beams.

A second orc rushed through the door, getting a face full of pots that Oin threw at it and leaving it off base enough that Fili body slammed it into the wall. The house began to swarm and Josephine grabbed Tilda, nearly throwing her back onto the bed and on the other side of Fili.

Bain threw everything he could find and Sigrid dove under the table.

Snatching up the knife Tilda had been using earlier, Josephine jabbed it several times into the back of the neared orc as another two dropped through the ceiling. They could barely move. It was so thick, there were at least five of them and the dwarves were doing all they could to both distract them from the kids, and hold their own without weapons.

The dull kitchen knife glanced off the armor or another orc, this one flipping the kitchen table to go after Sigrid. Josephine raised it again to at least hope to get its attention when a flash of green came through the door and sliced its throat.

Josephine and Tauriel caught each other's eye and with a barely perceptible nod, Tauriel moved on to the next target. Legolas was next, dropping in and perching for a moment on the edge of the turned over table. He was still just long enough and with his back to her that Josephine took her chance.

She grabbed the hilt of Aragorn's knife and pulled it smoothly from the holster. A proper weapon in hand she joined in as the orcs kept coming. "Fili! Get the kids!." Like she had with Tilda, Josephine shoved Sigrid towards the bed where Fili could look after them and Kili at the same time.

Close quarters slicing and dicing was almost easier with Legolas and Tauriel keeping most of the orcs' attention. But just as quickly as they came, a call echoed out and they started to run. Tauriel bounded after them through the front door. Legolas made to follow but Josephine was between him and his exit. She jammed the tip of the knife into the doorframe right in front of his nose, blocking his way. Her arm shook and her lungs were burning but so were her eyes as she stared up at him.

"Kili was hit with a Morgul arrow, I can't heal him, he needs an elf."

"He is not my concern." His eyes flicked to the knife in her hand. "And I will take that with me."

She wrenched it free from the frame and pressed the tip of it under his chin. "The orcs can wait, and you're not getting this back."

"Why should I?" He spat.

"Because, Legolas…Asea anni" Yes, help this stranger who claims to be your friend from the future. "We'll be friends one day you stuck up, racist, elven princeling and so help me if I get back home and you've walked out on me right now I will make your life a living hell, so get over there and help me save him!"

His face held a stony frown for what seemed like hours and his eyes flicked between her and the dwarves. Finally, he moved. Carefully he grasped her wrist and lowered the knife from his throat.

"Get him on the table." He snapped to the dwarves.

Bain hurriedly righted the furniture and Oin and Fili pulled Kili from the bed. Wide-eyed and clutching a bunch of green stems, Bofur rushed back in, stunned as Legolas snatched the athelas from him.

They huddled around the table while Bain and his sisters tried to cover the holes in the roof, too frightened and wired to go to sleep. Legolas muttered in sindarin as he worked, making a poultice and pressing it into the wound. The night was long and they were all cold, Josephine's hands went numb as she kept the cloth on Kili's brow cool. But at dawn, the sun broke free of the fog and washed over the table. Finally, Legolas stepped back.

"I've done all I can, but I believe it was enough."

There was more color in Kili's cheeks than he'd had in days and the pained scrunch of his brown had relaxed. She was so relieved she threw her arms around Legolas before she could think about it and it happened so suddenly he didn't react.

"Hannon le, mellon nin." She whispered.

He was frozen for a moment, then grasped her by the shoulders and pried her off. "Let me guess. I taught you sindarin as well?'

"No, but I do practice on you."

"Something else to look forward to." He grumbled. "Am I released from your charge or are there any other dying dwarves you wish to threaten me into helping?"

"You're free to go. Promise." She said honestly. Everything else Tauriel had been involved with up to Erebor she could flub. Besides, if Tauriel had run off and Legolas was here, she didn't like the change. The two needed to be back together.

Legolas eyed her carefully, then slowly reached for his belt. He slid the knife sheath off and set it on the table. "Perhaps you stole this, perhaps you did not. Regardless, you should not be unarmed if you continue to travel in such company. Do not make me regret returning it to you."

Josephine grabbed the sheath and slid Aragorn's knife back into it, pressing both flat against her stomach protectively.

"Thank you."

Coldly, he stalked out of the house, shutting the door loudly behind him. Josephine, still clutching Aragorn's knife, stared at the closed door disappointedly. She missed her friend.

Chapter Text

Small wooden shavings fell in curls onto the rug and when the pile got big enough, Aragorn scooped them up and threw them into the fire.

Josephine was cross legged in front of him, tying pine boughs together with twine and fussing whenever her sappy fingers caught on the knots.

A year ago she'd been in Rivendell preparing for a journey that terrified her, and now she was listening to the fire crackle and Aragorn's knife softly carving into a piece of pine. Once upon a time he'd promised her peace, and peace he was delivering effortlessly.

With his carving knife he reached over and cut a small length of twine, messing around with his carving. When he finished he held it up by a loop of twine. The firelight cast over a palm sized doe, a bit roughly hewn but no less beautiful for it.

Josephine took it with a smile, turning it over in her hands. "The first ornament for our tree." He followed her to her feet and she held it back out to him. "Here, it's your first tree, you should hang the first ornament."

He took it with a soft smile and gently hung it from the branch in front of them. His arms wound around her waist and he tucked her head under his chin. "It is your first doe, from when I took you hunting."

Josephine melted, remembering how it had felt to be in his arms then. "The one we left for the bears?"

"An unimportant price to pay." he sighed and kissed her head. "You frightened me that day. You fell ill so quickly and I hated that I had not seen it sooner."

"In your defense I was doing everything I could to hide it. I had to prove my usefulness to everyone, including you, remember?" She joked, still perched on the truth but making light of it.

"For all its worries, the memory of that trip is precious to me. I knew then, as you slept in my arms, that any hopes I had of not caring for you deeply were in vain."

"Next time, let's not wait so long to confess our undying affections for each other. Deal?"

He chuckled. "Deal. Just imagine what we could've gotten up to in Lothlorien had we known."

Josephine sputtered as his voice taunted her. "We would've gotten the entire fellowship kicked out for sure." Then she shuddered as his lips pressed a kiss behind her ear. "Don't you dare…"

Another kiss, and a nip, and she slipped out of his arms reluctantly with a laugh. "I've been trying to get to making these wreaths for a week, don't tempt me." But oh was he tempting her.

"But what harm, my queen, could one more day do?" He cast an innocent expression over his face, but his eyes were dark and teasing.

Playfully, he took a step forward and she took one back, still fully intending to go back to her craft but not at all against playing along with his game for a minute or two longer.

"That's what you said last night, my king. We can't keep doing this."

"Can we not?" He said with another step.

Josephine met him in the middle and laid her hands on his chest. "How about this, tonight we finish my holiday to-do list and tomorrow…" She popped up onto her toes and gave him a kiss, whispering while she had barely pulled away. "I'm all yours."

She'd expected an equally teasing response, but the noise that came out of Aragorn's mouth was a deep, craggy snore and she reared back in confusion. He looked the same, but then the noise came again and she realized it wasn't him making it.

Then her eyes snapped open and she began to understand two things. One, she'd been sleeping, and two, the snore had come from Oin who was crashed out on the bed next to her.

She rolled out of the bed and found Kili up and sitting at the table with the rest of the dwarves, shoveling stew into his mouth and offering his bowl to Sigrid who was trying to pour another ladle full into it.

Josephine threw her cloak around her shoulders and went out the front door, toeing it shut and learning against the railing. The early afternoon sun offered no warmth and the town was still dull and colorless.

Things were on track, Kili was okay, and at worst until Smaug showed up all she'd have to do is spring Bard from jail. But she felt like the spring in her chest that had wound so tight back in the Shire to hold her together, was starting to rust. Josephine needed to go home and feel safe and have her family back. She still couldn't decide if it was making her stronger to see him in her dreams, or driving the knife deeper into her heart. Maybe it was both.

Doubt gnawed at her as time passed, born from the crack of a lash and the time spent away from Gondor. She'd spent months, hell years by that point, training up to be able to fight and protect herself. Denethor's agendas in Minas Tirith during the war had made her cautious enough to keep with practice even up until the day she'd come to the Shire. Not that Legolas would've let her skip out on their lessons anyway, though she was beginning to wonder if this quest had been the reason he was so firm on it.

The door creaked open and Sigrid came up beside her and handed her a bowl and a spoon. "You haven't eaten anything since breakfast yesterday. It's not much but it's the least we can do after you and your friends saved us last night."

Not wanting to seem ungrateful for the meal, even if she had come outside to avoid everyone, Josephine took the bowl and began to pick at it. "Thank you. If it wasn't for you letting us stay, I doubt Kili would've survived long enough for Legolas to get here so trust me, our debt to you is a lot bigger." Nevermind the fact that the orcs wouldn't have broken into the Bardling's house at all if they hadn't been there.

"Now that he is improving, will you leave like the others?"

Josephine watched Sigrid closely, trying to gauge the reason behind her friendly question. "I suspect it'll be another week or two before I'm comfortable with him traveling. I'd like to stay here if you're okay with that?" If she wasn't, Josephine didn't have another plan since they had to stay until Smaug showed up, but she didn't want them to feel like a band of dwarves was holding them hostage. "It'll give Bofur and Fili time to patch up the roof and you'll be safe until we can get your dad back."

Sigrid seemed relieved. Good, she'd just been worried they'd leave and she and her siblings would be alone. "I suppose that would be for the best. Wouldn't want you having to knock on the Master's door again. The town gossip is that he wants you for his wife."

Josephine pretended to gag and Sigrid laughed. "Is it too late to let the orcs take me? Besides, I have someone back home who might have a few things to say against that."

Sigrid pulled her sweater close around her and shivered. "Well, I'd say he'd wish you inside where it's warm then, not out in this." A burp rumbled loudly from inside the house. "Though…perhaps a few more minutes might do us both some good."

Later, with just a few coins in hand and a bag of things scoured from the house to trade, Josephine went to the market with Bofur and Fili to find supplies to fix the house.

"Never seen men so tight fisted for a bundle of nails and a few boards." Fili grumbled as they were turned away from the third stall they'd gone to. "Can't you appeal to them?" He asked Josephine. "You're their kin, surely that should help."

"I'm hanging around with dwarves and I'm an outsider, I don't think I have a whole lot of insight that could help us."

"But they're your kin?" Bofur said in confusion. "Surely you all trade the same?"

"Just cause I'm of the race of men doesn't mean our cultures are the same across the board." She turned sideways to scoot by a woman passing the other way and they glanced at each other, exchanged a tight lipped sort of smile, and went on like nothing had happened. On either side of her the dwarves stopped and stared at her with raised eyebrows. "What?"

"Oh sure," Bofur scoffed. "Ye'r nothing like 'em at all." He handed her the coin.

When Josephine realized what he was referring to, she'd already taken the coin and Fili was passing her the bag of tradables. "The awkward white person smile doesn't count, oh my g-"

They were several feet away already, waving her towards the next stall that looked like it might have what they needed. After some looking, bartering, and haggling, she met them at the edge of the market and dumped their supplies into Bofur's arms.

Fili looked smug and clapped her on the arm. "See, you must've given them that strange smile that you all do. Put them at ease."

"Don't make me throw you in the lake."

"Already been." He quipped. "Rather not if it's all the same."

Josephine tugged on one of his braids and smothered a smirk at his antics. "Come on, let's get back, I'm freezing my ass off."

Chapter Text

Josephine bunched her shirt against her chest and stared at the far wall of the loft in Bard's house. Oin's healer's touch was effective enough, but not nearly as gentle as the elves had been at slathering her scars in salves. Every now and then he pressed a little too hard on a spot that was a little too deeply scarred and the whole process was getting on her nerves.

"They've healed well enough for what they are. No doubt our time with the elves had something to do with it." He harrumphed. "Not just in one debt to them for their healing but now two in as many months."

"If they're so well healed then why is fighting still so difficult? Why are they still sore?" She had to speak up enough for Oin to hear her with his crushed trumpet and it was hard to keep her voice also low enough to stay unheard by the keen ears of the Bardlings below.

"Lass, that lash bore into ye'r very muscle. Ye'r lucky to be in the shape ye'r in now as it is. Best not expect more. 'Sides, a lady of your stature shouldna' be fightin' anyway."

"Should and need are two different things, Oin. I can't rely on all of you to keep me safe in the middle of a battle."

He gave an offended sort of scoff. "And why is that? Do ye not trust us by now? When we've all had strict orders for months to keep ye safe and done just that when ye haven't gone off half cocked, provoking goblins and elves and all sorts!"

Offended in her own right, she elbowed his arm away and pulled her shirt back down, making for the stairs. "Well maybe if you'd all pull your heads out of your prideful assholes and listen to me things wouldn't go belly up all the time and I wouldn't have to fix so damn much!" She jabbed her finger at him, already feeling regret for the words tumbling out of her mouth but unable to slow down. "I'm here for a god damn reason and every time something terrible has happened its either been because it had to or because somebody here didn't listen to me and don't forget, I never wanted to fucking be here in the first place!"

Her hand shook and her chest heaved as the last bits flew out like barbs and she felt like she deflated as they left her. The house below them had fallen silent. Josephine felt the stiffness in her spine that had served her so well, tightening dangerously. It was shaking from the strain, ready to snap as the end drew closer but not close enough.

Oin's face had fallen, sad but not hurt like she'd thought he would be. She looked away quickly and bit her cheek. "I'm sorry." She said softly, knowing even if he didn't hear her he'd see it on her lips.

Thudding footsteps, carefully placed, came up the steps and Kili's head poked around the corner. "Everything alright?"

"Fine, lad." Oin said with a nod.

He came into the room and looked between them, gently laying his hand on her arm and looking at Oin while she wiped at her eyes. "What did you do?"

"Lass just got upset at somethin' I said is all. Shouldna have said it."

"You're right, you shouldn't have!" Kili snapped, tugging her down into a slightly awkward hug while he glared at Oin over her shoulder. "Whatever it was."

Josephine patted him lightly on the back and slid out of his well meaning comfort. "I wasn't all that nice on my end either so maybe we should just call it even?"

Oin chuckled. "Aye, even we are."

As another voice filtered up from the stairs, they realized the loft wasn't the only place in the house that was in turmoil. This time it was coming from the children.

"Tilda, you're not coming and that's final!" Sigrid snapped. "Braga only just now said they'd let me in to see him."

The three of them made their way back downstairs and found the eldest of the Bardlings stuffing fresh bread and other small morsels into a basket on the table.

"I want to see Da!" Tilda replied.

"You'll see him when he gets home." She said firmly.

Bain joined in next, puffing his chest out. "And when will that be? He's been gone near two weeks now!"

Sigrid tucked a cloth over the top and motioned to the basket. "And just why do you think I'm bringing him all of this?"

"He won't like you going to the jailors alone. I'll take it." Bain bargained. "It's not a safe place for ladies."

"Please." Sigrid rolled her eyes. "All the bad ones are locked up and there are guards all over, I'll be perfectly fine."

Josephine started tucking her shirt back into the top of her pants and cut in. "Sigrid's the oldest, she'll decide if you go or not." The girl was smart enough to know Bard wouldn't want any of them to see him locked up, and the two youngest especially didn't need to see whatever state he might be in. "I'll go with her, maybe I can get some more information out of the guards while she checks on your dad."

'I'll go too." Kili nodded.

"No." Josephine said. "They're suspicious enough of us all, bringing one of you along will put them on the defensive. Besides," She grimaced. "The Master likes me. Maybe that'll give me some favor with the guards."

"He'll favor you right into another banquet more like." Bofur grumbled.

She grabbed her cloak off the hook and handed Sigrid's coat to her. "Well if he does, then I give you all strict orders to come and rescue me.

>>><<<

The weather outside was the same as it had been since they arrived, except for maybe getting even colder if that was possible. It was still only October and the ice floats were so thick they could've fooled her into thinking it was the dead of January. They were so far north it was only going to get worse as the days went on.

Sigrid walked beside her, nerves apparent in her hands which grasped the handle of the basket, but her face was stony and stern. Josephine would've liked to say something that might make her feel better but everything that came to mind was some cliche platitude that Sigrid would have no reason to believe.

The jailor's was one long building built like a bridge over one of the canals with tiny cells on either side. Bars opened to the hallway and the prisoners got the privilege of a small barred window near the top looking outside, with a thin wooden shutter that barely kept the cold out but kept every bit of the stench in.

The smell of half a dozen cells with unemptied buckets and unwashed bodies made their noses curl. The guard pointed them to the fourth cell on the right and waited at his post. Josephine put her hands on Sigrid's shoulders and guided her down, keeping an eye on the cells they passed in case a hand reached out for the basket or either of them.

Bard was in the same spot they'd probably had him in for the past two weeks. His hair was limp but his smile was bright when he saw his daughter.

"Sigrid!" He rushed to the bars of his cell. "Darling, this is no place for you to be."

"It's alright Da, Josephine came with me." She reached into the basket and passed him a roll. "Here."

He shoved half of it in his mouth and smiled gratefully.

"Have they said when they'll let you go?" Josephine asked.

Bard swallowed and shook his head. "When the Master wills it they say. But don't worry, Sigrid, he'll get bored of me soon enough. Don't let your brother and sister worry."

"There's no helping that. I almost couldn't stop them from coming with me to check on you."

"No, no I'm glad you did. They shouldn't see me in here. Are they well?"

More food passed between her basket and his hands as they talked.

"Just worried, but we're quite safe. Miss Josephine and the dwarves have been looking out for us. They even managed to fix the roof after-" She trailed off and tried to pretend she hadn't said it.

Bard frowned. "The roof? After what? Was there a leak?"

"Well, there was a leak," Josephine interrupted. "And Bofur went up to look at it and well, he fell right through onto the table. It was really our fault."

His eyes narrowed at her but he didn't press the matter, since everyone seemed okay and it was taken care of for the moment. "Well then you have my thanks." He reached out and stalled Sigrid's hand as she held out another roll. "This will be enough for now, thank you, Sigrid. Now go and give the rest to the guard, a little bribery certainly won't hurt."

"Are you sure?"

"Quite sure, darling. Now go on, and tell you brother and sister I love them."

He watched as she skirted back down the hall, waiting until she was out of ear shot and sharing the rest of the provisions with the guard before turning back to Josephine.

"Thank you for coming with her. And for looking after them. Has your friend recovered?"

"He's good as new, but we won't be able to stay forever. One way or another we'll need to get you out of here."

"Difficult to achieve when the Master's plan seems to be leaving me here to rot."

"Yeah, well…" She lowered her tone. "I'm not above breaking you out so don't give up hope just yet." With about a week left before Durin's Day, she'd be doing something.

"Why does that not surprise me? But it's a terrible idea, they'll just arrest me again. This town isn't big enough for a fugitive to hide."

"So what's your plan then? Rot? Look, if I have to I'll go talk to the Master." She'd really been trying to avoid it for the obvious reasons, but also to keep from drawing too much of his attention to them all still staying there.

"What does it matter to you when you have a dragon to battle?"

"I told you, it's not about treasure but you don't seem to be listening to me. I'm not leaving your kids here without a father. If it comes down to breaking you out, I have a plan, you'll just have to trust me."

He frowned. "I suppose since I have little other choice, I'll have to."

They left the jailor's with an empty basket and no answers from the guard that could help them.

"I hate seeing him in that awful place." Sigrid confessed as they walked back. "And what if the Master never lets him go, what if he gets sick? Tilda and Bain have already lost Mother, they can't lose Da, too. How am I to become both for them?"

Josephine pulled her aside and wiped the fresh tears off Sigrid's cheeks. "You won't have to, I'll figure this out."

"How will you do that? Soon you'll leave to join your friends and we'll still be here. If the Master wants Da locked up, nothing will stop him."

The desperation on Sigrid's face just about broke Josephine's heart. She wished there was a way to console her and make her believe that one day they'd be living in Dale, the Master slinking off in disgrace while their father became King. But that was a taller tale than she could pull off even if it was safe to reveal it. So she did the only thing she could do, and tugged Sigrid into her arms and brushed back her hair. "You're not alone, Sigrid. Leave the business between your father and the Master to me. It won't be like this by the time I'm gone. I promise."

Chapter Text

April, 3021

Josephine's packed bag was ready by the door of their chambers, waiting for morning when she'd set out for Ithilien. Osgiliath was under way, the city was in good hands, and now her sights turned to the overgrown ruins they'd passed through on their way to and from Mordor.

To quell her excitement, she curled into her chair by the fire to sketched out designs for ruins she hadn't even seen yet.

Brushing his hand over his beard and stifling a yawn, Aragorn came in to join her, leaning over her shoulder to see what she was working on and pressing a kiss to her temple. "It is beautiful. For Ithilien?"

"Maybe." She held the sketch out in front of her and scrutinized the building. "Not really sure what it's supposed to be yet. But Ithilien reminds me a bit of Hollin so I guess it's elven inspired."

"It suits the land well. Moving on to Ithilien feels as if we are passing beyond simply recovering from the war."

Josephine had been thinking the same thing. Rebuilding Ithilien wasn't necessary like Minas Tirith and Osgiliath. It could carry on as it was under the watchful eyes of the rangers for years more without much more damage. But things were easing, times were brightening, and a new sun was on their horizon framing thick fields of grain and colorful orchards.

"So I was thinking…" She mused, leaning her head back against his shoulder so they were cheek to cheek. "Once Ithilien is under way and I won't be making as many trips out there…" She paused nervously, even though she was so sure about the answer five minutes before. "What would you think about having a baby?"

He didn't move, but she could feel his heart speed up and his face pull into a smile. "You know what I think of such things. You need only say you are ready and we shall have as many children as we wish."

"I was thinking after Yule. I should have Ithilien well in hand by then and we could start trying?"

In a flash his arms were around her and he was pulling her into the air, kissing her, lingering as if he was moments away from saying why wait until then when now was just as good.

Josephine had known her suggestion would make him happy, he would've been ready for children as soon as they'd been married if she had been too. But she hadn't expected the joy that rolled off of him, bursting through her own chest and lighting up his face.

When she was back on her feet again he held her face in his hands and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Yule could not come soon enough even if it were tomorrow."

>>><<<

Laketown

Cross legged on the floor in front of the fire, Tilda and Josephine held their hands out in front of them, palms facing each other and clapping together in time. Josephine had needed to wrack her brain to remember the rhyme but as she got started and they got a rhythm it started to come back to her. Thankfully Tilda caught on quickly and helped her stay on track.

"Miss Mary Mack Mack Mack, all dressed in black black black…"

She was pretty sure she'd made up a new set of clapping motions to get them through it but it didn't matter, Tilda was smiling and distracted from the stress that had laid over the house for nearly three weeks and that's what mattered.

"What are elephants?" Bain interrupted.

"And what's fifty cents?" Tilda added.

"Fifty cents is about…" She thought about it for a second and shrugged. "Half a brass coin. And elephants are like the Oliphants of the south but much, much smaller."

That got Tilda's attention. "How much smaller? I've heard oliphants are as big as a mountain!"

Bain rolled his eyes. "Oliphants aren't real, Tilda, they're just a story."

"If you were on a tall horse your head would just almost hit their knee." Josephine said, reaching over to tussle Tilda's hair and look over her shoulder at Bain. "I've seen them."

"Do you want to try, Bain?" Tilda offered, shifting as an offer to move out of the way.

He was reluctant, having viewed the whole thing as childish and told them as much when they started, but Josephine could see he wanted to try it anyway.

"Here, Tilda, why don't you teach him?" She got to her feet and brushed off her pants. "I'll help your sister make dinner."

Before she made it over to the kitchen, Fili pulled her aside to a quiet corner. The other dwarves watched from their various places around the room but didn't join them so they wouldn't draw the attention of the kids.

"Tomorrow is Durin's Day and you've had us do nothing while you grow more fearful. What is coming?"

"Something bad." She agreed, there was no hiding that part. "But I have a plan. All you need to worry about is taking care of the children."

"Bard was right, wasn't he?" Fili said darkly. "They'll enter the mountain and Smaug will awaken. And where else will he go to dispel his anger but here? I'm right, aren't I?"

"Well you're certainly not wrong." She mumbled.

"I cannot let you fight a dragon on your own! I believe that would fall under the description of you doing something foolish, which uncle strictly forbade."

"You uncle doesn't know the future so he doesn't get to decide what's foolish, and neither do you. You all," She leaned in to whisper. "Will need to get the heirs of the throne of Dale to safety while I deal with the Dragon." Maybe with a little more context that they'd find important he wouldn't ask so many questions, even if their lineage was the least of her reasons for protecting them.

Fili's eyes widened in understanding and he nodded. "Right. Dale."

"Dale." She confirmed. "There's nothing we can do to stop what's coming but we can mitigate the danger the best that we can."

"So you'll deal with the bargeman, and we'll deal with the bairns."
"Yep."

"And the dragon?"

"Don't ask, you don't wanna know." Sure it'd be Bain and Bard doing the shooting but it wasn't like she wouldn't be in the absolute thick of it.

"And if Uncle asks why I let you go fight a dragon?"

She smirked and pinned him with a look of disbelief. "You really think he won't believe that I lied to you and ran off? Come on, Fili."

He laughed. "You're right, we've got nothing to worry about."

"Bain! You're doing it wrong on purpose." Tilda snapped.

Fili looked past her with an amused smile. "Looks like you're needed, mother hen. Go on."
>>><<<

Minas Tirith

Calendars, maps, and letters had practically turned their sitting room into a war room. Every day of her journey he knew like it was his own. Sometimes when he closed his eyes, he could see her path, the view of the mountain from the ruins of the old Laketown was well known to him. But for her, they'd yet to become ruins. The bones of a dragon had yet to bleach in the sun where they rose from the water, which had run black for half a year, stories said, while it rotted away. Would she face Smaug in the mountain, at Thorin's side, or in Laketown with his nephews? Based on Gimli's stories he wasn't sure which one he hoped for but in his heart he knew she had stayed behind.

"Twenty-two days more, mellon nin." He whispered, clutching her token in his hand. "You must hold until then."

Loud voices outside drew his attention and he looked up as the doors at the end of the hall burst open with a jovial Gimli leading Legolas, Boromir, and Faramir with several clay bottles in his hands.

"Did ye think we'd let ya mope in here alone on a day like this?" He said, shoving a bottle towards him.

Boromir uncorked one and took a drink of cider. "Doubt any of us but the elf will sleep tonight wondering what happened, might as well keep each other company."

Aragorn couldn't ignore the warmth that spread through his chest and accepted the bottle with a gracious nod. From the edge of the group, Legolas caught his eye and gave him a reassuring nod. He supposed Josephine may have sworn him to silence, but that didn't mean he couldn't slip him a morsel of comfort now and again.

"Very well, let us wait up with her."

Boromir raised his bottle, waiting for the others to uncork theirs before continuing. "To her majesty, the reason for every one of my gray hairs."

"To the dragon who has no idea what kind of fight he's in for." Gimli added.

Chapter Text

From dusk on, Josephine watched the mountain, waiting for what would come first, the dark shadow of the dragon, or the deep roar from its throat. It would give the town a little warning at least, if they heard him coming. She couldn't remember which it would be.

Once the kids had been sent to bed, they quietly collected what they could in the way of supplies. All of the children's warm clothes they could find, food, bandages, salves. Anything they could manage to stash away in a pack and load into the boat below.

Tauriel was nowhere to be seen, and neither was Legolas. Still following orcs, maybe? But she would've felt better if at least one of them was there.

From the table she could see the snowy tip of the mountain and chewed absentmindedly on a piece of dried fish. Eat. Be ready for a long night and a longer day.

Fili had spread the word amongst the others, no one was unsure about their task or what was coming. Josephine had a feeling she wouldn't be able to hide it anyway. It was like the night before Helm's Deep began, absolute certainty of darkness and danger but no way to stop it.

The dwarves milled around solemnly and Kili, showing more nerves than the others, sat with her and wrapped his arm around her. Whether it was to comfort her or himself who was to say, it was probably a bit of both.

First came a rumble, enough to stir everyone awake. Then another, which set the bells tolling and voices yelled throughout the town. It was time.

The children were already flooding into the kitchen and the dwarves began to stuff them into their own coats as a dark shadow passed over the town. The air outside billowed and shook the windows.

"We're not leaving, not without our father." Bain argued, fighting off a persistent Oin.

Josephine climbed up on the table and wrenched down the black arrow, meeting Bain's eye as he realized what it was.

He was supposed to help kill the dragon, he'd be fine and it would give them the best chance of killing Smaug. That was the plan.

But when she was about to hand him the black arrow and tell him to stay with the dwarves for now, she froze. His dark eyes were wide with fear and they bore into her, hitting someplace deep in her chest that made her stomach churn.

No. Things had to go as planned.

She swallowed the feeling and took him by the arm, pulling him out the front door and handing him the arrow. "Take this and go with them. When you're by the statue and see your father in the bell tower bring this to him."

"You're not coming?"

"I have to get your father." She gave his arm a warm squeeze and tried to muster a convincing smile. "Chin up, we only need the one. Now, what do you need to do?"

"When I see father, in…in the bell tower." He stuttered nervously. "I bring this."

"That's it, Bain." She turned him and gave him a light shove back into the house, following everyone down to the boat.

They piled in and when she didn't follow, Tilda noticed instantly. "What are you doing?"

"Getting your father." She put a foot on the edge of the boat and pushed it off, giving the dwarves momentum to get moving.

Fili called out to her as they slipped into the canal. "Josephine! Be careful!"

The dock shook as Smaug flew low overhead and she flinched, nearly expecting the scream of a Nazgul to follow.

They were on their way, and she was on hers. Back through the house and out the front door, just in time to see the dark mass on its way back. She watched as the sky turned orange, bright as daylight, and the town caught fire.

She moved as fast as she could, trying to block out the screams as people were consumed by the fire and the temperature in the town rose. Rounding a corner she had to pull herself back as a jet of light engulfed the waterway she'd almost been on.

Diverting would put her behind, but for all she could remember that was right on time for the story, at least if everything was going well.

Smoke burned her lungs as she staggered up the steps to the jail and started searching the guard post for keys.

"Who's there? Let me out of here!" Bard yelled from his cell.

"It's me, I'm looking for the keys!"

"Where are my children?!"

"My friends are getting them out, you and I have a dragon to kill."

There! Tucked under the counter on a nail, a ring of keys. She jammed the first one into the lock, then the second, then on the third it came undone and the slide opened with a heavy clang.

Bard burst out and clutched her sleeve, fearfully pulling her after him. "Come on, we have to get to the armory."

Dodging falling debris they ran, sliding over slick paths and catching themselves on each other as they went. With less finesse than her last foray into the armory, Bard kicked in a window and collected a bow and a quiver of arrows. From there he led her to the upper floor and broke through the roof.

Looking out across the town there wasn't an inch that wasn't glowing except for the still tolling bell tower.

"Our best chance is the tower, but we'll never make it on the walkways. Go back, I'll do what I can. Get out of here!"

Even if she wanted to, the heat she was feeling through the soles of her boots didn't bode well for her getting out of the building any other way. "There's no time to argue, I'll follow you."

He looked at her reluctantly but could see a glow forming behind her.

"Go!" She yelled.

Reaching a hand down he helped her up onto the shingles. "Watch your footing."

Balancing on eves and sliding down the sides they made their way over the rooftops. A snarl caught her attention and she looked over her shoulder for a briefest moment. They'd been seen.

"Jump!" She rushed forward and pushed against his back. "Jump!"

Seeing what she just had, Bard grabbed her by the shirt and threw her onto the next roof, several feet away, then followed just in time to avoid Smaug's roof was steeper than the others and they slid, Bard stabbing an arrow into the soft wood just in time to slow himself. He caught her by the wrist as she tumbled over the edge and snatched his bow before it could fall into the water.

Her weight swung entirely onto her arm and she screamed, thankful at least that the pain meant she just held onto him tighter, but for a moment she was frozen.

Bard heaved, trying to get her closer to a handhold. "Grab onto something!"

Securing the bow across her chest she managed to swing her free arm up and grab the edge of the roof. Slowly, inch by inch they got themselves back up.

"Are you okay?"

No. Yes. Had to be.

"I'm fine, we have to move!"

Fire erupted through the shingles barely a foot away from them and a wave of heat stole the air around her.

With his fist closed around the back of her shirt he dragged her to the next rooftop and they were off and moving again.

The bell grew louder and louder until all she could hear was it tolling against the roar of fire. One last jump brought them to the clock tower stairs and they rushed to the top. Every clang shook in her chest and she took out her knife and sliced the pull.

Bard was already pulling an arrow and looking for his target. Each arrow he sent was as useless as the next, but thankfully, they wouldn't need them.

Bain appeared, huffing and puffing as he ran up from below.

"Bain! You're not supposed to be here!" Bard yelled, pushing past her. "Why didn't you leave?!"

"I had to bring you this!" He said, handing Bard the black arrow.

Time was running short, out of the corner of her eye she could see Smaug banking to come back around. They'd gotten his attention.

Bain saw it too, and the fear came over him once again. Without a second to think she pulled the arrow up out of the trap door. "Go back down, now!" No more children with wide eyes taking in darkness. "Get out and find your sisters!" No more boys being asked to fight.

"But-"
"Go!" Bard added as claws opened in front of them and crashed into the tower.

Bain wasn't fast enough and slipped off the edge, landing on the, thankfully, slightly wider floor below them.

"Bain!" Bard yelled at his still body beneath them.

He wasn't moving and Josephine thought she might vomit. It would be her fault, she changed things and he would've died for it.

And then he gasped. Once. Twice. The wind had been knocked out of him but he sat up.

"Bain!" Bard yelled again. "Get out of here!"

The boy made for what was left of the stairs and once he was out of sight, Bard took up the arrow.

On their feet again, Josephine found herself face to face with a pair of bright red eyes and a voice that she could feel in the timbers beneath her.

"Who are you that would stand against me?"

Fear curdled in her chest and Bard found his bow broken in two.

"Now that is a pity." Smaug rumbled. "What will you do now, bowman? You are forsaken, no help will come. You will burn."

"Now's our chance." She said, voice trembling.

Already ahead of her, Bard secured the remnants of his bow into the timbers that were left. "I need your shoulder."

She couldn't look away, as if the second she did Smaug would eat her whole. Josephine slid the arrow up onto her shoulder, sitting it securely on top of the folds of her cloak.

"Steady now." Bard said behind her. "A little to your left."

Josephine shifted as sharp teeth framed Smaug's deep maw, a golden glow growing from his throat.

"Don't look, Josephine." Bard grunted as she began to shake. "Steady!"

She snapped her eyes shut and froze. Wind rushed in her ears and feathers brushed against her cheek. The weight of the arrow was gone and she dared to open her eyes again.

It stuck out like a branch from a dark hole in Smaug's chest, drawing closer and closer as he swerved. Bard grabbed her and pulled her back as the dragon swiped the tower.

Bard threw her against one of the posts as it shook and began to fall. "Hold on!"

Wood groaned around them as her stomach turned into butterflies. They hit the water fast, slamming into the icy cold with enough force to push the air from her lungs.

Sinking through the cold blackness was peaceful, but only for a second until her body screamed for air. She burst out of the water and quickly found herself dragged towards a piece of floating debris. Bard had her by the cloak, barely holding onto the debris himself.

At the mercy of the current and their own, exhausted pairs of feet, they floated through the wreckage as the sky turned gray with dawn.

Chapter Text

Warm sun spilled over her face and warm rocks against her back took away some of the chill of the icy lake. Now exposed to the air, Josephine could feel the distinct sting of burns on her arms and legs, a small price to pay all things considered.

The day had dawned like nothing had happened, just as bright and cheery as any fall day on the edges of elven land. When she closed her eyes there was still fire and blackened buildings, freezing water and the sensation of falling.

A wet cough came from beside her and she opened them again, finding Bard sitting up and hacking into his fist. The beach was quiet, but a bustle of sound could be heard off in the distance, the survivors camp no doubt. They'd washed up maybe a mile down the bank from it all.

"Are you alright?" Bard asked her once he'd gotten his cough under control.

Josephine sat up slowly, cradling her left arm where he'd caught her from falling the night before. It ached and the muscles burned up through her shoulder but at least it was still in its socket. "Been better. But definitely been worse. You?"

"I'll be fine. Come on." He got up and reached down to help her to her feet. "We need to get to the others."

He started walking, rushed to go whether she was ready to set out or not. She stumbled the first few steps over the rocky shore before finding her footing.

"I owe you my thanks." He said as they traveled. "If you had not come, it may very well have been my son who had to face the beast. And beyond that, I may never have made it out of that cell."

"You would've figured something out." She assured him.

Both of them were too tired to bother with conversation and they trudged along. As they got closer to the part of the shore where the town survivors had gathered, they saw that they weren't the only ones to wash up.

The first body they saw, Bard rushed up and turned it over, hoping to find someone alive and just in need of help. As soon as he did, he jerked back and looked away. A victim of Smaug's fire, too far gone to even guess at who it might've been. Josephine kept her eyes on her feet after that, wishing she hadn't looked as hopefully as he had.

As they started walking again he sighed. "How many? How many were lost because of your friends' greed?"

Less than would be lost if the War of the Ring failed. Less than if Sauron and Smaug joined forces. "With Smaug dead, many more lives might've been saved in the future."

"One cannot live their life on what ifs, Josephine. Such talk doesn't help those who pay for it here and now."

"He would've come out of that mountain and destroyed town after town sooner or later. If Thorin hadn't done it, it would've been someone else. That, I know for certain."

"I find that hard to believe."

"I don't really care if you do or not. But you've got three kids and several hundred survivors with winter on the way and very little in the way of food, you don't have time to think about what was." That one she definitely knew from experience.

>>><<<

Bard had his eyes peeled the second he could make out faces in the crowd, and while his children weren't in sight, to both their dismay, Alfrid was. He was tugging at a coat, trying to wrestle it from a woman. The two of them got there just in time for Bard to snatch Alfrid's wrist before he could hit her.

Josephine couldn't remember what fate he ended up with, but she didn't feel too bothered at the idea that he might not survive the battle.

"I wouldn't go turning on your own, Alfrid." Bard hissed in his ear. "Not now."

He shoved Alfrid away and Josephine took the distinct pleasure of kicking his legs out from under him. Grasping him by the shirt she leaned in, grimacing at his breath. "If I see you raise your hand to someone like that again I'll cut it off." Would she really? No, probably not. But he didn't know that.

"DA!" Tilda yelled.

Josephine stood back up and felt a weight come off her, all three of them were in their father's arms safe and sound.

"It was Bard, he killed the dragon! I saw it with me own eyes! He brought the beast down! Shot him dead with a black arrow!"

As the crowd surged towards Bard, Josephine slid back to the edges, cradling her arm again as she was jostled. Bard needed his "King Bard" moment and she needed to-

"JOSEPHINE!" Bofur yelled, charging at her from the shore line. "You foolish, stupid woman! Damn near gave me a bleedin' heart attack!" He poked and prodded, turning her this way and that, checking for blood or maybe missing limbs. "Do you think we couldn't see you up on that tower as we rowed away? Do you?! Well we saw everything! Thought you died fallin' off!" He pulled her sharply into a hug.

"Ow! Bofur!" There went her shoulder again. At least it wasn't her sword arm.

He pulled away just as quickly. "Are ye hurt? What's wrong? Of course ye'r hurt, ye fell off a bell tower. Come on, let's get ye to Oin, we're gettin' ready to set out for the mountain."

Ushered away without much option to resist, she followed Bofur's lead, catching Bard's eye as she left. The kids were still tucked against his chest and he mouthed a silent thank you. She dipped her chin and gave him a smile before turning her attention to the coddle of dwarves rushing towards her from the moored boat they were preparing.

Fili smirked and crossed his arms as they stumbled over. "Foolish." He tsked playfully. "What will uncle say?"

"He'll say thanks for killing a dragon for me, my dearest wisest seer." She joked, perching on the edge of the boat.

Oin puttered around here, pulling a jar from his pocket and slathering something on her burns. "I'm gettin' a might tired of yeh using all my salves."

"If it's any consolation I'm getting a might tired of using them too." She leaned down conspiratorially. "But if you had any willow bark left, I wouldn't be opposed."

Slipping his hand into his coat he slipped a small bit of bark into her hand and gave her knee a gentle pat. "Ye tell me if ye need more."

One more voice joined their party, one that was distinctly out of place but very welcome, at least in another time.

"First spiders, then orcs, now a dragon? Tell me, do you seek out danger, or are you just exceedingly unlucky?"

"Both." She replied, turning her head to see Legolas, joined by Tauriel. She watched them closely, looking between Tauriel and Kili. Nothing. Odd…or was it? It wasn't a particularly lore friendly romance and she was fairly sure the two hadn't even spoken. If this whole Tauriel thing didn't get resolved she was going to have a lot of questions for Legolas when she got home.

Oin took her sore arm and folded it against her chest, then bound it in a sling.

Legolas seemed impatient. "I would have a word with you." His eyes glanced over the dwarves. "Alone."

With a grunt she got back on her feet, shoved the spit of bark between her back teeth, and they walked down the shore a ways until they were away from the dwarves and survivors.

"You're about to run off to Gundabad, aren't you?" She assumed, as Legolas and Tauriel stopped under the boughs of a tall pine. "Wanna see for yourself if the old hold is back up and running?"

Tauriel looked warily at Josephine, but not entirely surprised. "If there are orcs in Gundabad once more, the King should know."

"That is, unless you already know." Legolas' eyes snapped onto her, demanding an answer.

Did they really need to go? Was there a reason more than recon? Josephine couldn't remember. If she'd known she was going to be chucked into Middle-Earth back in the day, she could've watched the Hobbit trilogy a little more thoroughly. But she would've rather tried to keep Legolas and Tauriel close by than send them off. Maybe even…With three to protect, maybe she could even eventually talk them into helping her.

"Gundabad is chock full of orcs. They've been breeding bats too, big ones." So unlike the bats from her old home. These were no sky puppies. "And once Bolg gets there, he'll collect an army to bring to Erebor."

Tauriel frowned. "You know of Bolg?"

"Too well. He's one of my bigger problems in this whole adventure, right below Azog himself. Well, now that the dragon is dead anyway. Look, you'll do more good in the long run helping the survivors get to Dale than you will going to look at an old Angmarin stronghold to see if I'm right about the orcs. I'd suggest you both stay put."

Tauriel looked over her shoulder at the encampment. "Many of them will not have made such a journey before. They will need help."

A loud whistle came from the boat and Kili was waving her over, an attempt to rescue her from the grumpy elves no doubt.

"Think about it." She clapped him on the shoulder and pushed past them. "Namarie, mellon nin."

Well, either she'd just pissed him off enough he'd go up and check just to spite her, or he'd take her intel to heart and stay there with the survivors. Tauriel seemed to like the idea of staying though, so Josephine had a feeling Legolas would come around to it too.

Reaching the dwarves Josephine sighed, the last bits of energy she had were slipping away like she was full of holes. Though, in a way she kind of was. "How long will it take to get across the lake?"

"Several hours at least." Bojur said, getting ready to shove off.

"Good." She took Fili's offered hand and he helped her up into the boat. "Because I'd really love to spend a few of those unconscious."

Bofur and Kili pushed the boat back into the water and jumped in, the four dwarves taking up discarded and washed up shovels as oars. Leaning back against a small pack of meager supplies, Josephine was starting to struggle to keep her eyes open. "Wake me when it's my turn to row." She mumbled.

Kili scoffed and said something under his breath, followed by Fili sounding like he was admonishing him for something. Josephine couldn't make out either and cracked her eyes open. "What was that?"

Fili set his oar down and turned to her, pulling her cloak over her a little more securely against the wind. "Pay us no mind, you get some rest. We'll wake you if we need help."

She didn't have to be told twice by then, and in seconds she was out.

Chapter Text

She did not, in fact, get woken when it was her turn to row. She wasn't woken up at all until the bottom of the boat was scraping against the rocky shore. The noise startled her and she bolted up, eyeing the sun that was westerning over the forest.

"You were supposed to wake me up."

Bofur shrugged and took her by the arm to keep her steady as she stepped out onto the shore. "Didn't need ye really. Current took us and we barely had to row, right lads?" He winked at the other three and reached back into the boat for his pack.

"Figured since we didn't need you, we should let you sleep." Kili added. "You know, since you had a late night dragon slaying and all."

"Holding an arrow. I literally only held an arrow." She corrected.

Bofur smirked. "Aye, and the beast died for it, didn't he?"

Fili smirked at her as well with a far more mischievous glint in his eye. "Besides, what good would you have been at rowing with one arm winged up like that. Though, it would've been funny to watch you try."

Josephine snorted and nudged his leg with her foot. "Okay okay, I get your point." Staring up at the foothills of the Lonely Mountain she felt tired all over again. "How many miles do you think?"

Oin followed her gaze and wrinkled his nose. "Oh, 'bout twenty-five or so, give or take. Been some time though, could be wrong."

Days. Days away from seeing the havoc Thorin was reaping with the rest of the company. At least they'd get there before Bard and the elves. She didn't expect she'd be able to do much damage control, hell she needed them at odds. The elves had to be ready on the field for when Azog attacked, so even Thorin's madness had its role to play. But god she was dreading it.

"Not to worry Lady Josephine, we'll camp here for the night and set out come morning." Kili assured her.

It took them nearly three whole days to traverse the foothills and come into view of the gate. She was certain, oh so certain things had gone to plan. But the broken gate still sowed a seed of doubt that made her nervous. Josephine could always be wrong.

Stepping warily through the wreckage, Bofur called out for his brothers with no answer. They rushed deeper into the hold, the breadth of pathways and deep ravines making her remember the daunting size of Moria all too well.

"Wait!" Bilbo yelled, running down a bridge towards them.

Josephine pressed her hand to her chest and took a steadying breath, letting go of the worry she'd been wrong.

"It's Bilbo, he's alive!" Bofur said.

"Stop! Stop! Stop!" Bilbo ordered, palm outstretched. "You need to leave. We all need to leave."

Bofur frowned. "We only just got here."

"I've tried talking to him, but he won't listen." Bilbo continued.

"What do ya mean laddie?" Oin asked.

"Thorin!" Bilbo snapped. Thorin. He'd been down there for days. He doesn't sleep. He barely eats. He's not been himself. Not at all. It's this- It's this place. I think a sickness lies on it."

"Sickness?" Kili said. "What kind of sickness?"

Fili left them and took off down the stairs, followed immediately by Kili and then Josephine and the others.

Down, down into the hold towards a telltale orange glow until they came to the last stairs leading into the ocean of gold. A faint and rhythmic clink, clink, clink harkened Thorin appearing from a doorway, staring at the coins at his feet.

"Gold...gold beyond measure…beyond sorrow…and grief." His eyes turned up, empty as if he were already dead. "Behold, the great treasure hoard of Thror. Welcome, my sister-sons, to the kingdom of Erebor." His arms stretched wide, and his voice was a deep rumble, wholly unlike himself.

Josephine didn't recognize the dwarf in front of them, not anymore. His dark robes sucked up the firelight reflecting off the hoard, and the flicker of torches cast deep shadows on his face.

She bit down on her lip to stop it from trembling but couldn't do anything about the tears that filled her eyes. He'd come back. He would. This was just temporary, necessary, and nothing she could've stopped. But that didn't mean it hurt any less to see.

Thorin turned away, seeming to forget they were there, and the six of them retreated quickly to the upper levels. Bilbo sent them to an old banquet hall and despite finding Thorin in such a state, the joy of seeing everyone alive and well made for a warm reunion of the Company. The joy was inevitably short-lived, and they hadn't even finished telling their stories when Thorin had the dwarves searching the piles of gold for the Arkenstone. There wasn't much sense she could try to talk Thorin into, but some things needed to be said. While he barked orders from a balcony she slipped through the doorway and waited until he noticed her.

He paced like a man looking for a fix, living and dying for a hit. In a matter of hours, it sounded like he'd slipped away. His behavior made her nervous, she remembered his volatility from the movie well enough.

"Thorin?"

His eyes flicked to her arm, still bound in a sling, though it was nearly healed. "Do not worry, child. When you are healed, if it is still not found, then you may search for it as well."

"I'm actually here about Fili, Kili, Oin, and Bofur."

He grew cold again when she brought them up. "What of them?"

"We've been traveling for three days, they need rest too." Each one of them was beat, exhausted, and sore in one way or another. Kili's leg was still bothering him from time to time, though he was doing a good job hiding it. She knew they'd go right back to searching come morning but maybe she could at least bargain for a night's rest.

"Nonsense." Thorin snapped, startling her. "Do not forget the strength of dwarves, Lady Josephine. They are of heartier stock than you and your kin." Then just as quickly, his voice dropped again. "Go and find Mr. Baggins, see that he gets you settled."

He turned away from her, back to the glow of the gold, and a shiver ran down her spine. But he didn't have to tell her twice to get out and find Bilbo. She needed some air and missed his company.

Bilbo had come out to the top of the broken gate, looking out over the ruins of Dale when she found him. He was deep in thought and his hand was tucked into his coat. Josephine had an idea what he had hidden there and made sure to announce herself so he wasn't startled.

It didn't work, he was so caught up in his head he jumped anyway.

"Goodness, Josephine! You gave me a fright." He jumped to his feet and gestured to the rock he'd been sitting on as an invitation.

Once she'd sat down they were eye to eye and he gave her a once over with his arms crossed and looking very perturbed.

"I've already been chastised by the others for the past three days, be nice." She warned him.

"You look like the dragon swallowed you and then spit you out."

Her eyebrow rose and she scoffed. "Thanks."

"What did you do, try to fight Smaug bare handed?"

"No, I had a bowman and a black arrow and then I fell off a bell tower. You'd look like shit too."

He tutted, took a closer look at her face and arm, then wrapped her in a loose hug, mindful of her various dents and dings.

"I cannot tell you how relieved I am that you're back." He said.

Josephine leaned into his hug and wrapped her good arm around him to get him in close enough that she could whisper and nobody would be able to tell. "Please tell me you have the Arkenstone."

Bilbo froze, stiff like stone. "Yes…"

"Don't give it to him. No matter what he says, no matter what he does."

"...Alright I- I promise."

She was about to pull away when he tightened his grip.

"Josephine, what is happening to him? I know you know. Will he be okay?"

"In time, if things go right."

With a nod he stepped back, holding her at arms length. "Well then, we'd best get you something to eat and I'll see if I can't scrounge up something else for you to wear that isn't so…Singed."

Chapter Text

Days passed, so similar and uncomfortable that they started blending together. After two days her arm came out of the sling and she was immediately sent into the hoard to look for the Arkenstone. Nearly two weeks passed before Dwalin reported to Thorin that the survivors from Laketown had reached Dale. The entire Company spent that night blockading the gate, except for her and Bilbo. They were all exhausted, except for Thorin who seemed to exist on the power of his illness alone. Thorin had the two of them down in the hoard with him, still searching.

She kept her eyes on him more than the gold, and that's when she saw him slide a necklace from a pile of diamonds.

"The white gems of Lasgalen. I know an elf lord who will pay a pretty price for these." He told Bilbo, then balled it up and threw it back in the pile before walking away. "Dawn is here, come."

She waited until he'd rounded the corner and crept over to the pile. That necklace was leverage with Thranduil, or rather, good faith since she had said she would try to get them back. She very much wanted that good faith if and when things went south.

Passing the table where it lay, she plucked it out of the pile and quickly stuffed it into her tunic. The gems were light as air, pressing between her shirt and tunic without even showing their shape.

Comforted by her find, she followed Thorin as he returned to the gate and called everyone up to the top of the wall. The sound of hooves preceded Bard as he rode in from Dale, every outlook and balcony of the ruined city shining with the gold armor of Thranduil's army.

"Hail, Thorin, son of Thrain. We are glad to find you alive beyond hope." He called up to them.

"Why do you come to the gates of the King Under the Mountain armed for war?" Thorin droned.

"Why does the King Under the Mountain fence himself in like a robber in his hold?"

"Perhaps it is because I am expecting to be robbed."

"My lord," Bard pleaded. "We have not come to rob you, but to seek fair settlement.. Will you not speak with me?"

Thorin led them all back down, but on his way paused to speak quietly to a raven that flew off to the west.

Josephine sat back on an unused stone as Thorin embodied as much drama as he could muster, not even giving Bard the respect of facing him.

They spoke, or rather Bard tried to reason with him and Thorin couldn't find reason if it walked up and bit him on the nose. It was exactly the meeting she expected, and Thorin ended it by turning from the passway and raising his voice to yell back at Bard. "Begone! Ere our arrows fly!"

She thought that was it, Bilbo would express his concerns and maybe some of the company would and then they'd go back to searching. But when Thorin's eyes landed on her, Josephine knew something was wrong.

"Give it to me." He snarled.

She frowned, putting on her best act of staying calm. "Give you what?" Hopefully it was just his delusions.

"You have the Arkenstone. I saw you take it." He stepped towards her and she took a step back.

"I don't have the Arkenstone, Thorin."

"I knew from the beginning, you sought something in this mountain. Give it to me!" He yelled, lunging at her.

Josephine jumped out of the way just in time. "I don't have it." She did her best to try and keep her tone even, to try and keep from provoking any worse reactions, but she wasn't sure anything would help.

He stalked towards her like a lion, eyes dark and unfamiliar. "I saw you in the treasure room. You slipped it into your tunic when you thought I wasn't looking. Now, Josephine, give it to me."

Thorin backed her up against a piece of rubble and came at her again. He pulled aside her tunic and his fist came back out with the necklace. Shock crossed his face when it wasn't what he expected.

"Thorin!" Bilbo admonished.

"The jewels of Lasgalen?" Thorin's chest heaved and his lips pressed together.

Josephine could see the anger building and tried to slip off to the side and get some distance between them, but like a reflex, it only seemed to make him react. Necklace still bunched in his fist he swung at her and pain flared in her face.

He threw the gems across the room and continued to follow her, shoved Bilbo aside and ignored the protests of the others.

"Not my birthright, but no less of a betrayal. You stole it for the elf, didn't you?" His voice lowered dangerously.

Josephine looked past him for a moment, quickly looking back again to not give away Fili who was creeping towards his uncle.

"It gives us leverage over Thranduil." She explained nervously. "We can bargain with him."

Thorin didn't answer her, in fact it was almost like he hadn't heard her at all. "After all I have done for you, you would betray me like this? Within my own halls?"

"After all I've done for you, you'd believe I wasn't doing this out of your own best interests?" She spat blood onto the floor and put her hand out flat at her side to stave off the company, hoping she could still talk him down before things went belly up with the whole company and Bilbo to boot.

"Everything you have done was merely to serve you and your journey home."

His hand rose again but this time she was ready and slammed her fist into his nose, hoping the crack she felt was his face and not her hand.

Clutching his bloodied nose, his gaze turned murderous. "How dare you strike me." He hissed, his voice then rising to a bellow that echoed through the hall. "I am King Under the Mountain, Lord of Erebor! In my halls you will respect my words!"

Josephine wasn't sure what else to do, except to try and derail his tirade. Fear and anger at being cornered boiled in her chest and the others were only holding back by her own order. So the next words came very easily, with a volume to match.

"And I am the High Queen of Gondor and the Northern Kingdoms! If anyone gets to stand in your halls and call you on your shit, it's going to be me!"

For several seconds the hall was silent, she watched Thorin as what she said worked its way through his twisted mind. But he didn't come out the other side any better than before.

"Now I see. The Arkenstone would make a pretty prize for your own halls, your majesty." He sneered. "Another emissary sent to rob me."

"I don't care about anything in this fucking mountain except for the lot of you. I don't have your damn stone!"

"I know you know its location." He growled. "Tell me."

"I don't know!"

"Where is it?!" He yelled. "Where is the Arkenstone!"

Like steam in a closed valve, Thorin's anger was rising, until it all but exploded. His hands went to her throat and she slammed onto the ground. She grasped at his hands, his arms, and his clothes but he was too strong to fight off.

The company started yelling and several pairs of hands reached for him while her vision started spotting. Slowly, he was peeled off her neck and she gasped, coughing as she was dragged to her feet towards the stairs and up to the wall. Thorin was going to throw her off into the river!

"Easy, lass!" Dwalin grunted. "It's me."

He half carried her up the steps while she came to and secured a rope. When it was knotted tight through a chain he grabbed her by the shoulders.

"You have to go. He'll kill you if you stay." Tears were in his eyes as he shoved the rope into her hands and pushed her towards the wall.

Below, Thorin was yelling and spitting like a cat, trying to fight off half the company that was holding him back.

Too stunned to say any goodbyes or thank yous, she stepped over the edge and half repelled, half slid down to the bridge. She crumpled as she hit the ground and crawled to her feet before taking off in the fastest run she could manage. Fear crept up in her spine and urged her away from Erebor.

A few minutes later as she was rounding a bend, there was a crack, a rumble, and a crash as the dwarves broke one of the gate's statues. It fell, breaking the bridge and cutting them off completely from the road.

Bard had also paused to look back and see what was happening, that's when he noticed her. He rode back up the road and jumped off his horse as soon as he reached her.

"What happened? What did he do?" He pulled off his scarf and pressed it to her nose, tilting her head back.

She choked as blood ran down the back of her throat and coughed it onto the road. "I'm okay." she croaked.

"I think there's little chance of that, you're shaking like a tree in a storm."

As he carefully wiped the blood off her face, Josephine couldn't get the image of Thorin out of her head. Looming over her, furious and unrecognizable, made up only of hatred and need.

"Come on, let's get you back to Dale."

She didn't notice she was shaking until they were riding back and she was knocking against his arms. She pretended for her own sake that the tears were from the cold wind, but in her heart she knew that winter had nothing to do with it.

"It's alright now, you'll be safe in Dale."

She'd barely be any safer in Dale than she was in Erebor. But in Dale, she wouldn't have to look over her shoulder for Thorin.

By the time they passed the first set of Thranduil's soldiers, she'd set a false, but stony demeanor back in place. She'd need a stiff upper lip and strong voice to deal with Thranduil, and he would exploit any weakness he could find.

Chapter Text

An elf led their horse away, and Josephine beat Bard to Thranduil's tent. He was definitely not expecting her but he wasn't about to show his surprise.

"I see your allegiance to the dwarves is serving you well."

"I only got this shiner because I was trying to get the jewels of Lasgalen for you so you're welcome." She grumbled, still tasting copper on her tongue and feeling the stickiness of it on her fingers.

Thranduil gave a flick of his hand and one of the elves poured a goblet of water and handed it to her.

"Pity you did not succeed, it might have staved off their destruction." His gaze shifted to Bard who hovered by the doorway. "I take it no agreement was met?"

"He would give no ground." Bard answered.

Josephine took a drink, washing some of the bad taste out of her mouth, and seated herself in the nearest chair without asking. "He's sick. Dragon sickness. It's driven him mad."

"Then all the more reason to put an end to this. I will attack at dawn."

"You do that and it won't matter that we ever escaped your halls." She warned were way too far out from the battle, he had to wait.

He stared at her for a moment as he thought. 'Is that so? Or are you simply buying time for those that would send you fleeing to me for safety?"

There were so many things she wanted to say, but he was baiting her and too much was at stake to rise to it. "Thorin is essentially possessed right now, but he's not beyond saving."

Bard bristled. "Seeing you coming from the mountain gives me cause to disagree."

"Normally, I'd agree." Josephine interrupted. "Trust me, I have very little patience when it comes to people like that. But I'm not going to sign his death warrant for succumbing to a madness he can come back from."

"Are you so certain?" Thranduil asked. "It appears your faith in them has already been misplaced."

Sticking her index finger down on the arm of the chair she leaned forward. "You cannot attack the mountain until the twenty-third. And on that day your troops absolutely have to be in place to do so."

Thranduil glided across the tent, cloak trailing, and stood over her. "I thought we had made it quite clear, Lady Josephine. You will tell me what is to come, or else I will do as I please."

Bard looked between them in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Only if you are equally clear, that once I tell you, you will not use that information to interfere." She stood, closing some of the space between them. "You are far less intimidating than a dragon, Lord Thranduil, and I don't have the time or patience to play games with you."

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Legolas enter from the other side of the tent. He wasn't exactly an ally, but he was a damn sight closer to one than Thranduil was so she'd take what she could get. "I see you stayed."

"It seemed prudent to listen to a Seer's counsel." He said, unknowingly backing her up against his father.

"He would've ridden to Gundabad only to find an army marching from its gates." Josephine explained to the king. "And Gandalf will be here soon to report that an army has been dispatched from Dol Goldur as well. If you want a chance in hell of surviving the coming darkness, then you'll need to stand between those forces and the lives of the men and dwarves that are here."

"To sacrifice my men for a mad king and a rabble of survivors?"

"For a strong force in Erebor and Dale before the end of the third age. Between your soldiers, the men of Laketown, and the reinforcements from the Iron Hills that Thorin just sent for, we've got a solid chance of destroying both armies and killing Azog the Defiler at the same time."

That was enough to get Bard to interject again. "We are not soldiers. Whatever this is, leave us out of it. We have enough troubles."

"Orcs will be on your doorstep whether you're involved or not. You may as well be prepared." She warned him.

Thranduil was still pondering, but she was getting impatient.

"You didn't protect your realm for thousands of years by not thinking in longer terms than this."

Thranduil watched her, contemplating and holding them all on a breath while he did. Finally, Josephine swore she could almost see, at the very least, an amused glint in his eyes.

"I will give you until that day. Bowman, ready your people for battle. In seven days, we may be at war."

>>><<<

Gondor

His spirits were brighter and his nerves were frazzled. In one week's time the battle would take place, a clash of armies and death he'd once sworn she'd never see the likes of again. But even with all the power he now held, his promises were still at the mercy of the lords above him. They had called her to fight again, and he knew she had done just that. So yes, if she were to return, it would come soon, but she would pay for it with the strength of her arm and the swiftness of her feet.

But with her return so near, there were preparations to be made, and that was why he'd called a council in his study of those closest to them both.

"Gandalf said she was never found after the battle, so there is no reason to believe she was not brought back to our time. What concerns me is where she will appear."

Boromir brushed his hand over his beard as he sank deeply into his chair. "Dunland, then the outskirts of Hobbiton, according to Gandalf. Not exactly on target if you're making someone appear somewhere for a reason."

"That is my worry. When I began to understand the meaning of her arrival, I often wondered why it was she did not appear nearer to me in Dunland, but had to travel for many days. And why not place her closer to Bilbo's home? But I cannot presume to understand how this travel occurs, perhaps they are unable to be so precise. But this is why I worry for where she may appear." He looked between them all, Halbarad, Legolas, Gimli, and Boromir. "If she appears in the wilds, she will likely do so without supplies, perhaps wounded. "

Gimli puffed on his pipe and nodded with a crease in his brow. "She could still appear in the city."

"But we really have no way of knowing." Halbarad countered, turning his eyes to Aragorn. "Which is why you should not do the thing you are considering."

Aragorn attempted to look innocent. "And what is that?"

"My lady will not appear in the city to find her husband wandering the wilds on the chance she's out there. I will speak to Faramir and we will send out scouting parties. I'll be out there myself."

Boromir sat up in his chair. "As will I. I will not leave her to find her way alone."

"The elf and I will go too." Gimli grunted.

Aragorn's heart warmed as they one by one promised to take on the journey. He did have to agree with Halbarad, he needed to stay in the city, no matter how his feet ached for the chance to finally do something to find her.

Boromir smirked. "Perhaps the more of us that go out to find her, the more likely the Valar will wish to prove us wrong and drop her right on your doorstep, Aragorn."

"Perhaps." He smiled back softly. "But whatever manner of her return, I will be thankful."

>>><<<

Dale

One of the good things about old ruined cities was the multitude of empty buildings and tiny holes to crawl into. Places to go where you wouldn't be found even in broad daylight. Josephine needed a place just like that as she left Thranduil's tent. She'd managed it, she'd dealt with the armies and the arguing but she hadn't so much as banished the repercussions of what had happened earlier, as she had held them back with one hand while she did what she had to with the other.

She sat on the floor of an old shed, so small it was only just big enough to fit her. Once the tears started she couldn't stop them. They came in a torrent as she replayed the events of that morning over and over to process, trying to explain, trying to decide which of the infinite ways she could have played it differently might've worked.

The sun cast slivers of light through gaps in the rotting wooden shed door that moved and shifted until they started to fade. Only then was the door yanked open by a very frazzled looking Gandalf.

"There you are! Come now, there are things to do and you've got a great deal to tell me of what has transpired."

"How was Dol Goldur?" She asked sarcastically and rubbed her palms over her face to try and collect herself.

Gandalf didn't rise to the bait, either uninterested or too busy to notice her tone. "As bad as we feared, though I presume you know that well enough already."

Standing up she brushed herself off. "You have no idea."

He leaned on his staff and peered closely at her face. "Hmph. Hold this, please."

Frowning, she took his staff, unaware of where any of their conversation was going. That was until he took a firm grasp of her chin with one hand and gave her nose a sharp tug with the other.

She bent over, leaning heavily on his staff. "Mother fuck-"

"You will thank me later." He took his staff back.

Chapter Text

After two long hours of giving Gandalf the entirety of the tea since he left them at the edge of Mirkwood, Josephine was found and quickly dragged away by Tilda and Sigrid. One bowl of meager fare, some fresh water, and the two girls were fussing, making Josephine smile.

"Here, Tilda, ice from one of the buckets." Sigrid said, handing her a bundle of cloth.

Tilda gently pressed it against her nose and cheek while Sigrid moved on.

"These rope burns will scab over by tomorrow, and they're not bad." She said, turning Josephine's hands palm up and tilting them towards the firelight to see. "Bain always comes home with his hands like this when he's out on the barge with Da. Goes away quick."

"What happened?" Tilda asked.

"Slipped." Josephine lied with a bright tone. "Fell right on my face. Scared you dad half to death when he saw me coming up the road. You should've seen his face!"

Tilda giggled and Sigrid smiled as she wrapped some bandages around her palms. Their mirth was short lived as Josephine caught sight of Tauriel coming straight towards them, a serious look on her face.

"Lady Josephine, my lord Legolas sent me to find you."

Sigrid quickly finished up on her hands and Tilda handed Josephine the ice filled cloth. "I'll be back later." She promised, falling into step with Tauriel.

"For someone who doesn't seem to like me, he sure does find ways to be around me a lot." She muttered.

"He has not spoken of you greatly, but he seems to find you-"

"Annoyingly confusing?"

Tauriel hid a smirk and kept her eyes pointed ahead of them. "In a way, perhaps."

"Can I ask you something?" Now could be her only chance, things were all out of wack now.

"If you like."

"Are you and Legolas like…involved? Or is Thranduil all…my son will not pledge himself to a silvan elf grumble grumble and Legolas is showing his affections by being mad and overly protective?"

Tauriel froze mid step and turned to her. "He said you were a Seer but I did not think I was among your sight."

"So I'm right? You're both interested in each other but because Thranduil is the way that he is you can't pursue it?" She paused for a second and shook her head. "Ignore me, it's none of my business." It didn't have extensive ramifications on the future as far as she could guess. Legolas almost certainly didn't have a secret lover in Mirkwood, hell if he had any secret lover it would've probably been Gimli but that was beside the point. She'd never heard Tauriel mentioned by him, but was it because nothing had happened, or because Josephine herself had forbidden any of them to speak about what was happening around her now.

Tauriel took a few seconds for herself before setting off again. "It is as you say. I fear it will always be so."

As they reached Thranduil's tent, several shadows moved inside and Tauriel waited as Josephine entered. The gang was all there, Thranduil, Gandalf, Bard, Bilbo, which was unsurprising, and-

"Fili?" Her eyes widened. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be in the mountain!" Having been caught off guard her mind spun into panic mode.

Thranduil, sitting in his chair, looked at them all in a fair share of boredom. "He says he wishes to broker peace in his uncle's stead."

Bilbo cleared his throat. "He and I ran into each other trying to slip away from Erebor. He came to negotiate for peace, and I came to bring this."

He set a brown cloth on the table and unwrapped the Arkenstone. The movie hadn't done it justice and Josephine found herself staring longer than she meant to. It practically shone with its own light, and looking into it felt like she was seeing an entire galaxy reflected back to her. It was no wonder people debated its potential as a Simaril.

Even Thranduil was taken by it, and rose from his chair. "The heart of the mountain. The King's jewel."

Fili looked back at Bilbo, wide eyed. "You had it this whole time?"

"I…found it the day we fought Smaug, took it as my share of the treasure. I would've given it back to Thorin but he was so…" his eyes flicked up to Josephine. "I was given the impression I should keep it from him for his own safety."

Fili reached across the table and reverently picked it up, gazing at the stone in awe. "You did the right thing, Bilbo." He set it back down and flicked the cloth back over it. "It would have only made things worse."

"I almost revealed it." Bilbo admitted. "Back when…well. But I made a promise."

Josephine had a feeling. She'd been glad to have had a moment to discuss the Arkenstone with him before it happened. "Your timing was perfect, you were supposed to bring it here."

"Yes, it seems you are very particular about timing." Thranduil said, returning to his chair.

"Not without reason." Gandalf reminded him. "It seems a great many things may not have happened if she were not. Such as the dragon's demise." He finished pointedly.

"So then what is her suggestion on how we proceed?" Thranduil feigned interest and came across only as condescending. "If she is so wise in such things."

Fili had come, Thorin had shown violence well before the battle, Legolas and Tauriel were present, and they had the Arkenstone a good week before the orcs would come. Maybe…just maybe they could swing him back from the precipice a few days sooner…

"I have an idea, but you all have to play along and be patient or it's not going to work."

>><<<

Details hashed out, the group separated again and Josephine headed back to the fire where she'd left Tilda and Sigrid. Bilbo and Fili went with her, looking forward to some time under the stars instead of hunting through piles of gold. But when they got a moment, the two pulled her into the shadows of an alley. Now fairly used to the shenanigans she just looked between the two in the dim light and waited for an explanation.

Fili reached into his coat and took out a bundle of cloth much like Bilbo had earlier. He grabbed her hand and set the bundle in her palm. It fell open to the bright shine of the necklace she'd earned her broken nose for.

"Figure we can use all the leverage against that pointy eared bastard we can find." He explained. "I'd guess you're the best person to know when to bring it up to him."

Josephine smirked and quickly shoved it into her hauberk. "Thank you. I have a feeling we'll need it.

Bilbo put his hands on his hips and looked at her with his brows drawn together. "Now, are you sure you're alright?"

Josephine looked up at the sky and took a breath. "Ask me next week, I just might be."

"Ahem." Fili gave a nervous glance at their surroundings to make sure no one was nearby. "What you said back in the mountain, about being a…" He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Queen and all that. You can't have been serious, right?"

Bilbo scoffed. "Is it really so hard to believe?"

"Not unless you know even the smallest amount of Gondorian history." Fili hissed. "There hasn't been a…one of those in Gondor in over an age."

She clamped her hand over Fili's mouth and raised a finger to her lips. "If all goes right, one day we'll get to sit around my fire and I can explain everything but for now, pretend you never heard it. Understood?" Josephine waited for them both to nod before letting Fili go. "Now can we please go get a few hours of sleep before dawn?"

>>><<<

Did Josephine normally think trying to shock someone out of their mental illness was the best way to go? Not exactly. But it had worked for Boromir and the Ring's influence…eventually. And in the movie it worked for Thorin. Hopefully his blow up at her started the process, so maybe they could finish it before the eleventh hour.

The dwarves lined the gate as the sun rose and glinted off the golden armor of the small elven host that came to guard them.

Josephine rode beside Thranduil, and Fili sat behind her with the Arkenstone safely tucked into his coat. Bard, on the other side of Thranduil, looked solemn and nervous. Finally, behind them Gandalf rode with Bilbo.

As they approached the edge of the broken bridge, Thorin released an arrow at the feet of Thranduil's elk. "I will put the next one between your eyes."

The dwarves gave half hearted cheers of support, but their enthusiasm was hollow. The archers behind Thranduil pulled out their bows and aimed at the dwarves who then all ducked, except for Thorin.

"We have come to tell you that payment of your debt has been offered, and accepted." Thranduil said.

"What payment?" Thorin demanded. "I gave you nothing."

Right on cue, Fili got down from her horse and stepped forward, reaching into his pocket and holding the Arkenstone aloft.

"But I did."

Thorin fell silent, staring at the stone in Fili's hand as he passed it to Bard who tucked it away in his coat.

"With this, I have ensured us peace, uncle. Peace which you refuse to give us, and for what? A mountain of gold that will do naught but sit there while your friends perish for it? While my brother and I die in a battle we could have avoided?"

"That stone is mine!" Thorin roared. "It is the heirloom of my house!"

Bard tipped his head up. "And you shall have it, but first you must honor your word."

Josephine watched Thorin's fury, gripping the reins as an outlet for her nerves. "They'll die, if you don't make peace, Thorin. You know who I speak of."

"And I am supposed to believe your words." He turned to her. "Not a child, but a snake. How foolish I was to trust you. I will not believe your lies of my nephews any more than I believe your claims of nobility."

"Which is it then? You believed me when you thought I wanted the Arkenstone as an heirloom of my house, but now that I never had it, that claim is false? Your mind is sharper than this, Thorin."

"Uncle, we cannot continue this conflict. If we do, many more will die, and the company will likely be among them."

Bilbo hopped off the horse and joined Fili. "You are changed, Thorin. The dwarf I met in Bag-End would never have gone back on his word. Would never have doubted the loyalty of his kin!"

"Do not speak to me of loyalty when you stand there beside the very kin who has betrayed me!" Thorin brought his bow up again and fired, aimed right for Bilbo. Fili pulled him away, just barely missing the tip of it himself.

Josephine's chest clenched as the arrow glanced off the stone and had to take a deep breath to steady herself. Behind them all, Gandalf's voice boomed.

"If you don't like my burglar, then please don't damage him." Gandalf's tone caused Thorin to falter and he lowered his bow. "You're not making a very splendid figure as King under the Mountain, are you, Thorin son of Thrain?"

"Never again will I have dealings with wizards, or shire rats, or so called seers!"

"Are we resolved?" Bard called out, trying to get them back on track. The return of the Arkenstone for what was promised?"

"Why should I buy back, that which is rightfully mine?"

Thranduil looked bored and turned to Bard. "Keep the stone. Sell it. Ecthelion of Gondor will give you a good price for it."

Thorin screamed out from the mountain, more unhinged than ever. "I will kill you! Upon my oath, I will kill you all!"

"Your oath means nothing!" Thranduil snapped.

"Thorin, lay down your arms." Gandalf pleaded. "Open these doors. This treasure will be your death."

Thorin bowed back behind the stone wall and it was silent for several nerve wracking moments. Bard did not wait much longer before prompting him again.

"Give us your answer. Will you have peace, or war?"

"Uncle! Please!." Fili begged.

With a heavy turn, Thorin disappeared from view and gave one last order. "Keep watch on the wall. Kill anyone who tries to enter!"

The six of them on the ground looked at each other, Thranduil the least worried but most annoyed of them all. For him, if they didn't succeed he could still easily take the mountain, even against Dain so long as he wasn't taken by surprise.

"Yes, I can see just how fruitful this endeavor was."

"Give it time." She reminded him. "Seeing that Fili and Bilbo are also against him as well as Gandalf should get him reeling enough to start spiraling into doubt." Hopefully. She had no guarantee, but she couldn't let Thranduil and Bard know how much of a gamble this was.

"And if he doesn't?" Fili asked worriedly.

"Plan B." And she left it at that. He didn't need to know plan b was letting things go off as written and having the lives of the Dwarves of the Iron Hills on Thorin's shoulders in the midst of the battle.

Silently, they left the gates of Erebor and returned to Dale to wait out her plan.

Chapter Text

Gondor, 3020

Josephine leaned over the plans table and pointed, a charcoal pencil stuck between her fingers. "I think we can get a second floor in but we'll have to move the door to fit the stairs."

"It'll be twice as much stone." One of the four dwarves around the table observed.

"We may be under population capacity right now, but give it a few years and we'll have a whole generation of boomers born."

Bofur, the one dwarf she'd already known from the movies when they met, looked confused. "A what now?"

"Babies." She explained absentmindedly. "It's common after the end of wars which puts a strain on already damaged infrastructure. I'd like to prepare for it the best we can."

"Aye." He agreed. "Same thing happened in Dale after-" He cut himself off.

"The Battle of the Five Armies and Smaug?" She finished for him.

"Aye." He said again, and laughed nervously. "So, bigger homes then?"

A knock came to her study door and a guard came in at her response. "Your majesty. It seems…we are unable to find the King…"

Josephine smirked to herself. "Is there something he needs to attend to?"

"Well…no, but…"

"Is Lord Faramir also missing?" She looked up from the table.

The guard answered simply. "Yes."

"They're out hunting. Tell the kitchens to prepare for game and if the king is needed I'll take care of it in his stead."

The guard bowed and left and she went back to the plans, catching an amused expression on Bofur's face.

Josephine shrugged. "You know rangers, you keep them cooped up behind walls for too long they start going stir crazy."

"That they do, my lady." Bofur agreed with a smile.

>>><<<

Aragorn blew into their chambers that evening with clear eyes and windswept hair, mud caking his boots that he dutifully left by the door without question, after too many sharp looks from both Josephine and Ciril over the past year.

Josephine looked up from their breakfast table, her book, and her cup of tea. Her heart caught in her throat. There was the ranger she'd first fallen in love with. Dusty and worn, but free in a way he didn't get to be that often anymore.

He swept her hair back behind her ear and kissed her, a chill from the evening air still on his hands as he set several blue wildflowers over the pages of her book.

"You smell like the woods." Josephine observed somewhat wistfully, touching the soft petals lightly. "Was it a nice day?"

He placed a second kiss to her brow before stepping away to remove his sword belt and cloak. "Faramir managed to take a boar, and I a buck. It was a much needed break and the cooks were pleased."

Josephine gave him an amused smirk. "You worried the guards. You really need to teach me how to sneak out of the city so well."

"Yes, you still intend to make your own escape soon, do you not?"

Their secret and well planned days off were few and far between, separate from stolen moments with each other. Although, his were less of an ordeal to plan, hence why she hadn't gotten away yet.

"Except for informing you, and Boromir, and Faramir, and taking Halbarad so he doesn't have a coronary…Eowyn and I are both chomping at the bit for a girls day." Halbarad just had to be an honorary member, there's no way they'd get away from the city without him.

Aragorn looked at her sympathetically. "Capable warriors you may both be, but you have greater dangers outside these walls than Faramir and I."

She sighed, having been through this before and knowing her complaints were a deepening repeat of past conversations. "I know, I just sometimes wish…I appreciate the protection, I do. But I miss some of the freedoms. It wasn't perfectly safe by any means but I could go between towns and cities alone, at will, with cautious behaviors I'd grown up having so I didn't even have to think about them."

Josephine knew Aragorn didn't fully understand, she could talk about her world until her face was blue but just like she had trouble with the many constraints of Middle-Earth at times, he had trouble imagining a place with so few. So he laid his hand on her shoulder warmly, a promise that even though he couldn't change it, he was at her side regardless.

"If it gives you any consolation, it eases my heart to know you are guarded. You saw little of the dangers you could have found had you been traveling openly during the war, and without us near." His voice softened. "I am forever grateful you were spared such things."

She agreed with him, she could imagine well enough how bad things could get out there just by knowing the players that wandered the wilds. Some of the accounts she'd read from the archives touched on old tragedies and rumors circulated from traders and dignitaries in hushed tones during courts. Darker stories fell away if the teller saw her listening so she'd gotten better at eavesdropping. They acted as if she hadn't been face to face with armies of orcs just a year prior and would pale at hearing the details of a caravan attack. Because of course, an attack on traders within the borders of her kingdom wasn't something she needed to concern her pretty little head about, let alone be something she could stomach.

It hadn't even been a particularly trying day, even the dwarves had been agreeable enough…for dwarves. But she was feeling bitter that evening, maybe a little jealous of Aragorn's field trip as much as she was glad he'd been able to go. Realizing this she took a deep breath and leaned her head into him as he stood beside her chair.

"Maybe I should try to expedite that day off." She sighed. "I think I'm feeling a little cooped up today, kind of wishing I'd gone out today too."

"You may come with me, at any time if you wish."

"No no," She patted him. "You need your boys day out just like I need my girls day out. But not tomorrow because I have a council in the morning." Going through her schedule in her head she went through the days. "Next week?...Maybe."

"Tomorrow." Aragorn straightened up and called down the hall for Ciril, who came from the other room. "Ciril, Lady Josephine is feeling ill, please see that her obligations tomorrow are moved."

Ciril looked them both over with a scrutinizing eye and Josephine knew she was positive no one in the room was feeling remotely ill, especially Josephine. Her mouth formed a thin line and she nodded, a conspiratorial glint in her eye. "Yes, my lord. I'd imagine Lady Eowyn will wake to find herself 'ill' as well?"

"Near certain. They work so closely after all." Aragorn agreed.

Ciril slipped out again and Josephine tilted her chin to look up at him. "So I imagine fresh air, sunshine, and riding over the plains will take care of this little ailment of ours?" A smile tugged at her lips and he kissed her again.

"A full day at least, and not a moment sooner than when the sun starts slipping behind the mountains."

>>><<<

Dale

Morning dawned to a meager meal, scrounged together by Sigrid. No word had come from the mountain and Josephine stared out at Erebor from the walls of Dale, as if she could will an answer from Thorin.

Bilbo, now that they were back together, stuck to her like glue. She was grateful, because if he hadn't she would've done the same to him.

"Do you really think he'll break free of it?" He asked her.

"I do. But the question is when and how many lives we'll lose waiting on it." She said bitterly.

"Did you know…This whole time…That he'd become…like this?" He spoke hesitantly, avoiding naming the illness as if him saying it would lay it even heavier on their friend.

"For the whole journey. I've been dreading it." She admitted, touching the pads of her fingers to her swollen cheek and being met with a sharp, deep sting with even the slightest touch. "Even though I know it should be temporary, a part of me is still terrified I'll be wrong."

"But if it's what you saw…why wouldn't it be true?"

Josephine shook her head. "The timing has been off almost from the start. The trolls, Goblintown…" She paused to swallow the lump in her throat that memory always seemed to bring back. "Kili's injury and how long we stayed in Laketown. Tauriel…It's all been off, I just wish I knew why."

Bilbo pondered. "Would it make any difference if you did? Whatever happened, you're fixing it now, maybe the best it can be fixed."

Josephine gave him a tight smile. "I guess it wouldn't matter in the end if I knew. I have to fix it either way."

"Besides. It'll all be over soon and you'll be off home to Aragorn." He said brightly. "We must be nearing the end, shouldn't we?"

"Six days or so." She answered nervously. "Give or take."

"Ah!" He gave her a bright smile. "This time next week, you'll be safe at home with your husband again, with a warm bed and full belly." Then he turned sad. "I don't suppose we'll ever meet again after this. You'll be a long way ahead of me by then."

Josephine couldn't stand his sadness. "Oh don't be so sure. You might have to befriend me again because I won't know you yet, but you'll see me. In hindsight, a lot of those days are starting to make a lot more sense now." She chuckled.

"Will I indeed? Well I have something to look forward to then."

"You'll keep me well looked after." She said fondly, thinking back to old Bilbo's warmth towards her. "It was sorely needed back then."

He took her hand and gave it a pat. "It's what friends do, whether the other knows them or not."

She knelt down and wrapped him in a hug, suddenly overwhelmed with appreciation for both him, and the friendship he'd carried for her all those years. Appreciation for his company now, and for the kindness and love he'd show her past self. Love, and no small amount of meddling in her love life, now that he knew Aragorn by name.

"I really am going to miss you when I go home to Gondor. I promise, I'll come visit."

"You had better. I'll be expecting the story, your whole story mind you, not these bits and bobs you let slip. And I'd best hear all about you and this Aragorn fellow as well. He must be quite something for you to do so much to get back to him."

"The whole story." She promised. "Every bit and bob."

Josephine swore to herself she'd make it to Rivendell and see him before he sailed, she knew she couldn't bear the thought of it if she didn't.

Chapter Text

The sun fell and rose again and still there was no word from the mountain. Another council was spent in Thranduil's tent, arguing between her and him, Gandalf and Bard, and Fili and Bilbo about time. Time and trust was what she was begging for but Thranduil and Bard were a hairbreadth away from refusing it.

But what else could she do? Her credibility with Thorin in his current state was completely useless at best and inflammatory at worse,, all she could do was hope he'd come around in time to make a difference in the coming battle.

She, Fili, and Bilbo were helping shore up an exterior wall when Bard came around the corner and cleared his throat.

"Lady Josephine, if I may have a word."

She had a feeling she wasn't going to enjoy this conversion since it was clear he wasn't really asking. Grabbing her set aside cloak she headed over to him, waving Bilbo and Fili off as she followed him. They went up to the high pavilion, where Thranduil had set his tents outside the old citadel. Most of the residents of Dale were down below and only a handful of Laketown guards milled around in the old citadel when she followed Bard inside.

He was silent as they walked, but moving with purpose, like he already knew exactly where he was going and what he wanted. She found it refreshing, at least, that she could trust him enough to not worry about where he was taking her.

Pausing at a set of double doors he held his hand out for her to enter ahead of him, stepping into a dusty, crumbling archive. Coming in behind her he shut the doors and stood in front of them. Feeling the chill of the unused room, she pulled her cloak over her shoulders and faced him.

"Okay, let's have it." She said, settling her feet into the dusty, moth eaten rug.

"Back in Esgaroth I thought the greatest you might bring down upon us was a dragon, but now you beg us stand by while armies of orcs march towards an indefensible city. And somehow, both a wizard and an Elven king listen to your word as if it were a surety."

"Armies are coming from all sides, where would you run to?"

"Had we known by the lake we could have gone elsewhere."

"And starved in the process." She gritted her teeth, wondering if her carefully held even tone was going to be any use here after all. Or if she'd be able to hold back her own frustrations.

"Is that it? Or is it your desire for Dale to be strong before the end of the Third Age, regardless of the cost?" He spat her words from their council back at her. "Are the lives of my children of less importance than your great plan. For they are the ones who will suffer for this plot!"

"Don't stand there and accuse me of not considering their lives in all of this."

"Then do not act as if we are merely pawns to be used!"

"If not for me considering their lives, Bain would have been on that bell tower with you!" She snapped. "And it was a risk to everything! If I hadn't played my part right, if I'd flinched or fallen or slowed you down and you missed the shot then we'd all be more fucked over than we are right now!"

"So you say!" He bellowed. "I cannot raise my children on what ifs, especially not those spoken by a stranger."

"A stranger who looked after your children for weeks while you were in jail, who got them out of the damn town while it burned and sprung you from that same jail. So maybe you can at least try to trust me when I say that the next week has more bearing on the next hundred years than you could imagine."

"That is not enough for me to stand aside and blindly accept that they will see battle."

"If you trust me, there's a good chance they won't."

He paused and looked at her knowingly, fearfully even. "You beg me trust you, when I am not even sure you trust your own words. You make a show of assuredness to get your way but inside you still fear you are wrong. Your words are dangerous with their lies of omission, Seer. We deserve to be led into this without blindfolds."

Josephine looked away from him, agreeing with him to a degree. If she were on the opposite side of a Seer she wouldn't be so keen on them either…in Elrond and Galadriel's case she certainly hadn't been. "Maybe." She admitted, which seemed to garner some points from Bard. "But you also deserve to live your life in blissful ignorance once this is all over. Trust me, you don't really want to know the future."

Silence fell between them and the argument fizzled. They could go around in circles for hours and find little to no resolution. He was, rightfully, focused most on the lives of his children. She couldn't fault him for it, hell she almost envied him.

In the distance a clap like thunder echoed through the hills and across the cloudless sky and they left their argument behind in the archive, bolting out into the courtyard and hearing someone yell that the fires in Erebor were lit as everyone crowded over to the walls to look towards the mountain.

They pushed their way to the front and Josephine felt a spark of hope in her chest again. The recently made wall, craggy and woven like a basket, lay in pieces across the frozen river. A large bell swung slowly out of the opening now and then, moving slower and a shorter distance each time.

Thranduil called out for his steed and Josephine rushed back to the elven encampment as a string of horses followed behind him. She locked eyes with Legolas as he started to ride past her and she held out her arm. Somehow, despite the fact that he seemed to have an ever present frown, it looked more agitated at her request. But he did drop his arm and lean to swing her up onto the saddle behind him.

By the time they reached the gates of Dale, Bard, Fili, Bilbo, and Gandalf had found their own steeds and fallen in with Thranduil's party. They hurried up the road to Erebor and stopped nervously where they had two days before, watching what looked to be an empty mountain.

The fires were lit, the gate was open, but she couldn't see anyone along the parapet.

Was this the surrender she was hoping for? Or had he gone so mad he thought instead he'd lay them a trap?

Then, slowly a dark figure started to appear out of the shadows. Thorin came, stepping into the light and holding a sword in his hand. He avoided her gaze and everyone stiffened.

But his heavy, cloying robes were gone, and his head wore no crown.

He paused, well out of their reach, and flung the sword onto the ground between him and them. "My shame is stronger than any spell that hoard could hold." His voice was low and soft, but sure. "My word will be honored."

Fili jumped down from behind Bard and threw his arms around his uncle.

Thranduil turned to look at her and she did her best to wash her face of emotion except for a very pointed I told you so glance.

From the gate the rest of the company started to cautiously come out, filling in behind Thorin. Kili hugged his brother and laughed and the mood began to lighten. She slid down off of Legolas' horse and went over to them nearly as cautiously as they'd left the mountain.

Josephine was relieved to see Thorin as himself again, thrilled to see the dwarves and know that all her plans could be put into play now, but there was still a twinge in her chest that traveled up to the bruises on her neck which made her uneasy in the shadow of the mountain. Her mind knew Thorin was back, but her body hadn't caught up to that yet.

Huffing, Dwarlin broke from the company and stepped over to her. "Ye look like shite." He grumbled.

"And you look like something a warg coughed up." She sassed back.

He laughed deep in his chest and squashed her against his chest. "We missed ye, lass. Seems between you and the other two deserters ye managed to snap him out of it."

As he let her go, Josephine caught Thorin's eye just past Dwalin's shoulder and froze for a second. He was looking at her like he had back when they'd left for Mirkwood, with guilt as she'd accused him of negligence. Seeing it felt almost vindicating, and she hated the sliver of anger that crept up on her. Josephine knew she shouldn't expect to just move past it like his hand hadn't been the one to break her nose and cut her lip, but she wanted to. She wanted to see him sigh and call her a petulant child again and feel only warmth, but two days of fear and worry wasn't enough time to do that, even if this Thorin wasn't the one she'd run from.

He made no attempt to approach her, seeming to know that it wasn't the time to make any kinds of amends. Battle was on their doorsteps and they had too much to do if they were going to survive it.

Chapter Text

From the back of a horse, Josephine watched the people of Laketown move out of Dale in a thick line, backs bent under packs and fists closed around the bars of litters. At the very least she'd been able to get them out of the city, out of the line of fire. They wouldn't be sitting there like lambs for a slaughter.

They'd been wary about the idea of seeking shelter in the mountain after Thorin's slip and the dragon's long stay, but Bard hadn't had to put up much of an argument to make them more fearful of staying put. He'd softened towards her again since their argument and now that he saw the heavy walls that would be protecting the children.

Hell, even Thranduil seemed a little less argumentative since Thorin surrendered, though she supposed he was enjoying the smug feeling of seeing his frenemy admit he was wrong.

In the saddle in front of her, Bilbo smiled. "Well done. Thorin's back, these people will be safe, and we can give those orc armies the ol' one two."

"It is the least hopeless battle I've been in to date." She admitted. "I suppose that counts for something." She nudged their horse and made for Thranduil's pavilion and the best view of the battle ground aside from Ravenhill.

As they rode, Bilbo awkwardly cleared his throat. "So. Have you uh…have you spoken with Thorin, yet? About…"

Bilbo hadn't left her side all day, he wasn't asking as a curiosity. "You know I haven't." Before he could say anything in response she interrupted. "I'm going to, and I know he wasn't himself that day, I just-"

"A part of you is scared of him now." He finished, more bluntly than she would have.

Josephine appreciated him bringing this up while they rode, when she didn't have to look him in the eye. She felt guilty one moment for being afraid of Thorin and justified the next, neither of which she wanted, especially this close to saying their goodbyes. She didn't want to wake up in eighty years to there still being that bad blood between them, but she wasn't sure if that was something that could fade enough in a handful of days to make a difference.

"I wish I wasn't." She admitted bitterly.

"Honestly I think I'd be more worried if you weren't a bit nervous about him now. But I think, once you speak with him again as his old self, you might feel a bit better." At her silence he added, "I'll come with you, if you'd like."

She gave his shoulder a squeeze with her free hand as thanks and handed the reins off to one of Thranduil's guards as they reached the pavilion.

The two made their way over to the crumbling overlook, where their now usual squad surrounded a large table, with the addition of Thorin, Dwalin, and Fili. She and Thorin glanced at each other awkwardly and she turned her attention to the group.

Thranduil, naturally commanded the table, standing with his back to Erebor with the sun shining over his hair. "Your predictions continue to ring true, Lady Josephine. It has been decided," He glanced sideways at Gandalf, almost begrudgingly. "That it would be prudent to seek your advice on our strategy in the coming battle."

It was exactly what she'd wanted and needed to make everything work, but she hadn't expected it to be so easy. Casting a thankful look towards Gandalf, who she was sure had a lot to do with it, she stepped up opposite to Thranduil and looked over the map laid out between them all.

Who would've thought it, her, getting ready to command the armies of three rulers by request. A long way from meager preparations begged from King Theoden at Helm's Deep. Now it was her job not to disappoint.

The next several hours were spent laying out the approach of the orc armies, their foothold at Ravenhill, and the usefulness of the nearly empty Dale as a distraction.

"Why not have Thranduil's men already on the hill?" Bard asked. "They could ambush Azog's forces immediately."

"They'll probably take Ravenhill the night before, they have to set up their command center. We need the armies to enter the valley and think everything's going according to their plan. If they know we're onto them too soon, they'll be able to attack from the high ground and they'll be slaughtering us instead of the other way around."

Thorin nodded. "Once their forces arrive, then we will ride to Ravenhill and take them out. If the armies are in the valley and lose their commander they won't adapt as quickly when Bard's men flank them from Dale."

"My men can reach the hill more quickly." Thranduil argued.

"Azog is my fight." Thorin said darkly. "I will finish what I started."

Josephine knew, even if she did order Thranduil's men to go instead of the dwarves, that Thorin would do it anyway. "You don't ride up that hill without me." She said sternly, catching his eye and nodding. "I mean it."

She could see in the seriousness of his gaze that he understood what she was saying, knew that Ravenhill was the time she'd spent months fearing. "We," He said again, nodding to her. "Will retake Ravenhill, when the time comes."

"Something else they'll be expecting. Azog knows you, Thorin, he knows you'll come for him. We have to be smart about this. Blind revenge is going to get people killed. I think we've had enough of that at this point." She looked pointedly at both him and Thranduil, feeling very much like a mother scolding children.

Every ounce of good will needed to be there between them for things to work, for lives to be protected as much as possible. She slipped her hand into her tunic and pulled on the mithril chain she'd kept hidden.

Thorin and Thranduil's eyes fell on the necklace as she slid it across the map towards Thranduil. "No more leverage, no more bargaining. From now until the battle is won, we're allies. Can we all agree to that?"

Gandalf smirked subtly behind his pipe as Bard, Thorin, and Thranduil nodded hesitantly.

>>><<<

Josephine didn't have a chance to get to Erebor until the next day, and not just because she was worried about seeing Thorin beyond a war council. Bilbo offered to come, but she left him with Balin and went on alone, skirting around piles of supplies and catching glimpses of rooms filled with refugees along the way.

He wasn't in the treasure room, or the throne room, but in the small archival room where the Company had reunited after Smaug.

"Thorin?" He hadn't noticed her coming in so she announced herself, stepping just barely past the doorway.

He looked up in surprise, before quickly righting his expression and dipping his chin to her. "Lady Josephine. Though now I know you are deserving of a higher title."

"No higher than yours." She picked at her fingernail, carving a line of dirt out from under it. "We've got enough to deal with, don't bring my station into this." They already had enough distance between them now, she didn't want it to get any worse.

"I will admit, I wasn't sure you would come alone, if you came at all." He didn't move, didn't take a single step towards her. "And I would not have blamed you for either."

"I probably know better than anyone that you weren't yourself. You're pig headed and grumpy and a pain in my ass but you wouldn't have hurt me otherwise." It didn't change the fact that she couldn't get the fury of his face out of her mind or the blur of his hand as it flew through the air. She wondered if it would have stuck so firmly in her mind if she hadn't grown to care for him so much during their journey. If it would've felt less like a betrayal of trust even though she knew she could trust him again now.

"It happened because I was weak, my mind…it took so little time for me to be swallowed by my greed. And for that, I nearly killed you after I swore an oath to see you from harm." He cleared his throat. "I let many oaths fall in those hours, and to that I can only beg your faith that I will not raise my hand to you again, but I have little right to ask that of you."

Josephine broached a few steps further into the room. "I wish it was that easy. I know it was some magical, dragon sickness, it's just…I guess I never really thought you would go that far while you were under it. Not to me."

She wasn't sure what to say. Tell him she was afraid of him still which he'd probably already guessed? He was regretful, she knew that, and she knew it was genuine. It wasn't some farce or manipulation to pave the way for future behavior, it was a true mistake, one he probably blamed himself for more than she did.

"I am sorry, Josephine. I will never not be, for what happened." He said softly, brows tucked together and eyes soft.

She forgave him, but the feelings hadn't started to fade yet and she hated it. Hated that she couldn't just recognize what they were and have them file away somewhere all sorted and finished. "And I forgive you. I just wish forgetting was coming as easily."

"Already, that is more than I deserve."

The scuff of footfalls came up behind her and stopped suddenly. Bofur stood awkwardly in the doorway.

"What is it, Bofur?" Thorin asked.

Bofur coughed. "Dwalin wanted you to know, he's finished."

"Good." Thorin grunted, turning back to her. "Will you come with me?"

Confused, she nodded and followed him and Bofur out and through the halls. The temperature began to rise and an orange glow coated the walls, drawing nearer to the forges and the armories.

Dwalin, Bifur, and Nori all moved around racks of dusty weapons and armors in one of the side rooms, cleaning and sharpening whatever they could find. With a grunt, Dwalin saw them and walked them further down the hall, closer to the heat of the forges, sweat glistening on his bare arms.

Fifteen armor stands ran along the length of the room, pieces she recognized the dwarves would wear, including Gimli's helmet which sent a pang of homesickness into her chest.

"Here we are." Dwalin said, swiping a cloth over one next to Thorin's armor, shining silver in the torchlight. "Didn't take long, ye'r not much taller than the rest of us which made it easier. Had to nip the mail in by nearly half on the sides though. Could've made a whole second hauberk for it."

A long hauberk of mail, under a second one of leather, under a breastplate, light shoulder guards, and every other thing she might need for a heavy battle.

"You will fight as one of us, you have more than earned that place." Thorin said, taking a bundle from Bofur. He held it out flat to her and pushed back the covering, showing the hilt of a sword, a replacement for the one still sitting in Thranduil's realm.

"Ye can use it against him if he does anythin' stupid again." Dwalin joked with a smirk.

Both she and Thorin smothered grins at his call out and she took the sword and scabbard from him, drawing it and looking down along the blade. It was remarkably light, not as much as her elven blade, but far more than she'd expected from the stocky dwarves. Her arm didn't shake, stronger now than during their spar with the fire poker back in Laketown. It still wasn't quite right, but a few practice swings pulled and tugged less than before.

Not finished showing off his work, Dwalin coughed to get her attention and she sheathed the sword. "One last thing, added a little touch for ye." He lifted the breastplate up off the rack, turning the inside of it to face her. "I didn' know what ye'r crest looked like, but I thought this might do well enough."

Josephine's eyes welled up as gold branches stood out against the gray of the inside of the armor, hidden from view once she put it on but there nonetheless. One tree, with seven stars.

Choking on tears she managed to lovingly croak out, "You motherfuckers." She pressed a kiss against Dwalin's cheek and brushed her hand over the tree.

"Her majesty shouldn't go into battle without bearin' her crest." Bofur said.

Dwalin set the breastplate down on a table and started pulling items off the rack. "Enough blabberin'. Come an' try it on in case I need to adjust it."

Thorin bowed his head. "I will take my leave, there are things I must attend to."

Josephine watched him go, feeling a bit better, but still unhappy with their resolution. She could only hope each hour might bring more relief, there weren't that many left.

Chapter Text

She never fully knew how to think before a battle. On one hand she would think about after it, make plans as if her survival was assured. On the other she would be positive her good luck wouldn't hold. Statistically speaking, there were only so many battles she could see before she was killed, right? Hell she'd almost died at Morannon.

The letter she'd left with Elrond, her goodbye just in case, seemed so long ago, so meager. Too much had happened since then and she felt like there needed to be more. Softer, more personal even, than an eighty year old letter written in fear.

So when she was in Dale that day, she sought Legolas out. He'd be just thrilled to see her, she knew, but if anyone was going to break the news to Aragorn, he would do it as gently as anyone could.

"You want something." He said sharply when he saw her slip into the doorway of his tent.

"A favor. One last time…at least this decade."

"Another? Have I not done enough of your will for your liking?"

"Well, if I survive the battle you don't have to do anything. If I don't, consider it my dying wish."

"You wish me to carry a message?" He surmised.

"He needs to know what happened. If I…will you tell him?" It was hard to say, those words.

"Who?"

"You'll know when the time comes. I just…" She blinked back tears and cleared her throat. "I want that news to come from you. He deserves to hear it from a friend."

"Another 'friend' from my future?"

"God dammit Legolas!" She snapped. "Would you please just do this for me? He'll need to know his wife is dead!"

The words came out of her like she was throwing a punch. The bluntness caused a shift in his stance, it softened him, if only a little. There was a split second, maybe even less, where she could've sworn she saw the eyes of her friend again.

He sat on it for a few moments, leaving her nervous and emotional, before he dipped his chin. "I hope that is not news I will have to carry. But if I do, I will deliver it."

"Thank you." She let out a puff of air and relaxed. "If I don't see you before the battle, good luck." Turning to go, she was surprised when he said her name and stopped her.

"You truly intend to join the battle after your injury?"

The genuine concern in his eyes when she turned back threw her. "I have to, if I don't…there are lives I have to save."

"You can't possibly be so reckless."

"I'll be with the dwarves, they'll look after me." It wasn't that simple, but saying it to try and convince him might make some steps to convincing herself.

He looked unimpressed. "Like they did in the mountains?"

"That was different, we were captured, they took our weapons."

"You are in no condition to fight, you'll only be a liability to them."

Why now did he seem to be taking the time to care? She didn't need the reminder of how precarious this was going to be. "I have a job to do." She said firmly. "One day you'll learn that you can't talk me out of fighting."

He snapped his mouth shut and nodded, giving her the space to leave.

"Goodbye, Legolas." She said as she pushed back the tent flap and walked through the pavilion. With every step she became more and more aware that she might've just said goodbye to her friend for the last time.

>>><<<

From the top of the wall, shrouded in shadows, Josephine looked out over the dark valley. The eve of battle was an unmistakable, unchanging sort of feeling. Sour, like old milk and rotten fruit. A rushing wind you could see in the distance and know once it came, you'd have to move where it sent you.

"You have seen the eve of battle before. More than once I would wager." Thorin's voice said from the hall beside her.

"Too many times." She agreed, not moving from the cracked and beaten stone wall she was leaning against. "I thought once, that this was all behind me."

"We can never be certain of such things. I will not tell you how best to prepare yourself, we all have our ways, except set your mind on this. Try to dwell on your triumphs in those battles, not the losses, for only one of those will not bury you beneath its weight."

His words were a kindness, as much of a comfort as he probably dared to offer. She couldn't lie to herself, she was afraid of how she might react if he reached for her, for a light squeeze of the shoulder or touch on the arm. If she flinched it would hurt him and she didn't want that. But if all went well, this would be one of the the last days she'd ever see him as he was now, with only a few flecks of gray in his beard. Hell, even then she had no way of knowing if he'd still lived in her time, though she'd begun to have some suspicions.

It was Josephine who had to make the first move now, so she did, wrapping her arms around his chest and curling into a hug.

He stiffened for a moment, then relaxed and hugged her back, sighing deeply. "No matter what happens, to me or my nephews-"

"I don't want to talk about it." She interrupted.

"Remember what I said in Laketown." He continued sternly.

He was still holding her tight, not that she would've let him let go sooner if he'd tried. If she pulled away she'd have to face him, have to see him, instead of just hearing him say things she didn't want him to.

"If this is our fate, then so be it. You will not sacrifice your future for an old dwarf whose time has come. And Fili and Kili would never wish you to give your life for theirs."

She could see them lying there, on slabs of stone surrounded by candles. Hear Bilbo telling Thorin to look at the eagles. It was enough to make a knot form in her throat and she bunched his cloak up in her fists as she buried her face in his shoulder. "Please don't say that."

He brushed his hand over her hair, but continued his thought. "How grateful I am for you, Josephine. For your sacrifices, and your compassion."

Her breath hitched and she knew he was saying goodbye without saying the words. He let her linger, she wasn't sure how long. But her tears had soaked into his tunic by the time she pulled away, tugging at the hood of her cloak to wipe her eyes. "Don't-" She hiccupped. "Get all squishy on me now you grumpy bastard."

He chuckled deeply, his own eyes were damp but he held his composure. "I am not the one crying, petulant child."

Sinking a hand into one of his pockets he took out a silver clasp with a barely visible hinge. Gold cut into the surface in lines and curls and he reached in again to pull out a beard comb. "If you would permit me?"

She took a seat on a piece of rubble by the wall and held her hand out while he undid her braid and took out the beads she still wore. Just like Legolas and the other dwarves before him, Thorin was adept at the craft and worked smoothly through her hair, plucking bead after bead from her hand until they were all accounted for and braided in tightly. Finally, into the single stiff braid he'd woven, he pressed the clasp around it at the base of her skull.

"There." He said. "It won't come loose with ease. It should easily last you the battle and your journey home."

Josephine felt her eyes burn again and choked out, "I'm gonna miss you, you know."

"Send word once you arrive in Gondor, I will be waiting to hear that you are home." With a tight smile he hesitantly touched his fingers to her cheek and kissed her forehead. "Now come on, I think I hear Bofur's singing echoing from inside, we'd best join the festivities. There are many tables in Erebor upon which the two of you have not yet danced."

>>><<<

In a large hall fires had been lit. The people of Laketown gathered, and while the food was meager and the tensions were high, somehow there was still a push for music and song. Bofur's voice dropped deep as he sang as loudly as he could from one of the centermost tables. It was forced joy that strained his voice and there was no ale to loosen it, but still he managed. Around the room people danced as the dwarves played old instruments they'd found around the mountain, their own still sitting in Goblin Town or Thranduil's dungeon.

Josephine felt love and warmth and sadness all at once, watching the dwarves sing and dance and play. They wouldn't all be around when she got back, there wouldn't be another time like this. Somewhere along the line they'd become her family just like the Fellowship had, friendships that broke her heart to leave behind.

"Don't think of it as taking our minds off of the battle." Thorin said beside her. "Think of it as your friends giving you a going away party. I will ensure we throw one even larger for when you visit from Gondor." He smirked and nodded towards the Company.

Bofur caught sight of her and waved his hand to get her to come over.

Josephine took one last moment to feel the pain, then she jogged across the room, took his hand, and let him pull her up onto the table.

They finished the drinking song he'd been in the middle of and he muttered something to Kili who relayed it to the others with their instruments. The first few notes filtered through the air and for a second she was back in Minas Tirith, it was a song from southern Gondor and she looked at Bofur in surprise.

"I'll admit we don't know many songs from that far south, but Nori and I went as far as Pelargir once and remembered this one. You start, I'll pick it up as ye go."

Since she'd hesitated, they started again and she dramatically slapped her left palm into Bofur's. "I'll swim and sail on savage seas, with ne'r a fear of drowning…" Ah Gondor, seafaring people who only sang about things if it involved the sea. "And gladly ride the waves of life, if you will marry me…" Leading, she walked him through the first few steps, giving credit to her dance instructor that had driven her nearly mad in the days leading up to her marriage.

In the next verse she quickened the pace, sure the others would follow and her and Bofur's steps sped up.

Seamlessly he took up the next. "My dearest one my darling dear, your mighty words astound me, but I've no need for mighty deeds when I feel your arms around me…" He bellowed the last bit comically and swept his hat off his head to bow.

Faster and faster they spun and danced and sang until the last line when he dramatically dropped to his knees and mimed asking for her hand.

The night went on like that, songs and dancing and strained merriment with moments of joy that made her forget. Each of the dwarves made sure to garner a dance, as if they'd been warned by Thorin of her pressing stumbled, Kili blushed awkwardly, and Fili puffed out his chest looking more like he was trying to be a pigeon than a dwarf, but no one mentioned goodbyes.

As the hour drew late, she sat down next to Balin, wrapped her arm around his, and leaned her head on his shoulder. She wouldn't say goodbye, except to herself. But he seemed to understand, somehow, what she meant by it.

Glasses, bowls, and anything that could hold drink had been collected as people began to filter out. Those that were called to fight tomorrow were dragged low by the thought, and two precious bottles of wine that had been found made the rounds. It was no more than two sips of wine in her tin cup, less for Bilbo on his own refusal.

"Hm." She mumbled as she looked at the dark red wine.

"What is it?" Bilbo asked from beside her.

"The parting glass."

"The parting…what?"

"An old song from my land, don't ask me to sing it, I wouldn't make it through the first line without crying." She could barely make it through what she was saying now. "It just…"

Bilbo's hand wrapped around hers and he forced a smile. "It's alright, Josephine. I understand."

She sat with him, hand in hand, taking the smallest of sips until their wine was gone. It wasn't long after when everyone went off to their bedrolls, preparing for the early call. Tomorrow, everything would be decided.

Chapter Text

awn had yet to show even a hint of itself over the hills when the company helped each other into their armor. The mountain was waking with a heavy anticipation and few words were exchanged until Thorin stood back from the group to address them.

"This battle is one in which we must be careful, it is not time for reckless decisions. Their goal is for the line of Durin to fall and to take as many with it as they can. Guard yourselves well, and you are to follow any orders Lady Josephine sees fit to give. But hold this in mind," He looked at each of them in turn, ending on Josephine with a particularly pointed look. "At no time is she to be alone on that battle field."

In response, Fili and Kili shuffled in close beside her and she felt Dwalin scoot in behind them.

"And under no circumstance does a single one of you go to Ravenhill without me."

Thorin nodded. "By days end, our home will be assured. Fight well, my friends."

It was short, simple, and enough. The group started to disperse and Thorin approached her. "During the battle, do not leave my side. You have a job to do, and so do I, but you are still far from recovered enough for war."

"If only Shire Thorin could hear you now." She teased, remembering how he'd been so against taking any responsibility for her.

"Alas, he did not have your gift of foresight." He smiled at her convincingly and added. "I will see that you return home, Josephine, now all I ask is that you trust me in that."

Sick of tears and fear and sadness she punched him lightly on the breastplate. "You got it, old man. Now let's go kick some orc ass."

He sighed to cover up a grin and shook his head. "Come now, we should take out places on the wall.

She walked out into the hall with him, ready to follow until something caught her eye, a head of brown hair ducking behind an armor stand in one of the other rooms. She knew that head, and sent Thorin on. Blocking the doorway she peered around the stand.

"Bain, what are you doing?"

He stepped out sheepishly, wearing a mail shirt that was ill fitting and holding a sword and scabbard in his hand.

"Da said I'm not old enough, but-"

She cut him off. "You're not." Josephine would be damned if she let him join the battle.

"I want to help! Da will be out there. How can I just stay in the halls and hide with the others?"

Gently she took the sword and put it back on a nearly empty rack. "Children don't belong in war, Bain. And so long as you're in this mountain it's in my power to keep you from going." Well, it was shaky at best, but he didn't need to know that.

"I'm not a child!"

"You're thirteen. Thirteen year olds do. to war." Not when she had any say in it anyway. If nothing else, this thirteen year old wasn't. "Stay with your sisters and spare yourself the memories of battles until you absolutely have to face them."

"But-"

"The best thing you can do for your father is to give him the peace of mind of knowing you're safe. Promise me you won't try to sneak out."

Frustrated, he pulled off the mail shirt and left it in a heap on the floor. "Promise."

She clapped him on the shoulder and led him out of the room and back into the main hall.

"Bain!" Sigrid's voice cut through the quiet din of the hall. "What are you doing?" She rushed up with Tilda following sleepily behind her. "We're supposed to be heading deeper into the city."

"He came to see me off." Josephine lied, knowing he'd probably had enough from her and didn't need her sisters going at him further.

"Are you really leaving after it's over? That's what Da said." Tilda asked.

"I'm needed back home, they're waiting for me." She hoped she was right. "I may be back afterwards for a bit longer but I don't really know yet."

Tilda hurried over and wrapped her arms around her. "Will you come and visit?"

Josephine smiled and kneeled down. "As soon as I can, but you have to do me a favor cause it'll probably be a really long time. Can you try for me?"

She nodded.

"You've gotta live a really amazing and long life, like you've gotta live to be a hundred years old!" She said with wide eyes, like she was joking even though she really wasn't.

"I can do that! Great grandfather lived to be a hundred and two!"

"It'll be easy for you then. Okay, one more hug, you three need to get to shelter."

Tilda gave a tight hug, with Sigrid following, and Bain, while holding back from all the hugging, nodded and gave her a small smile. Josephine watched them until they turned the corner and were out of sight, lost in the shuffle of the people of Laketown.

Along the fully blocked gate of Erebor, the Company stood in a line facing the field, full of Thranduil's men as dawn crept forward. Thranduil rode towards them alongside Bard, Gandalf, and Bilbo who looked around Gandalf's cloak at the scene ahead of them. He caught Josephine's eye and they steeled themselves. Dain would arrive at any moment and their ruse would continue.

Josephine closed her eyes, felt the warmth of the sun on her face, and let herself slip away for just a few precious moments. To Gondor and her city, shining like silver with the bustle of banners in the wind and craftsmen starting their work on the first level. The smiles of her friends gathered in the feast hall of the citadel, and Aragorn's hand in hers, warm and strong. This was for her people, her friends, and for him. It would be over soon enough, all she had to do was make it through.

With a sharp breath in she stiffened and opened her eyes, mumbling to Thorin out of the corner of her mouth. "Are you sure Dain is going to play his part? He's awfully obstinate."

"He wasn't pleased with aligning with elves, but I believe I impressed on him the importance of the situation. He will send a raven when he is ready to show himself."

"And if he doesn't cooperate?"

"Then I will merely set you loose on him. I'm certain you will think of something."

She smirked and pretended not to be amused. "Har har."

A couple long minutes passed before the dark shape of Dain's raven swooped onto the stone beside Thorin. At this, Thorin began to play his part, raising his sword and bellowing a war cry at Thranduil.

His men drew their arrows and aimed towards Erebor, holding until moments later when Dain and his men appeared on the ridge, the sun to their backs with horns blowing. Step by step things continued, Thranduil's men turned to aim at the ridge.

Dain seemed a little unsure still, that was until the rumbling began. Deep in the hillside to the south east the ground shook.

"Welcome to Ararkis." She grumbled as the wereworms burst through the stone. "Thanks again for that one, Peter."

The faint sound of a voice echoed over the valley followed by an orc horn. The flags unfurled on Ravenhill as Azog gave his first order.

Orcs flooded from the holes made in the hills, but Thranduil's men were ready. A small shift was all that was needed and their aim moved to the hoard. From the crest of the hill Dain's men began to send their own and readied for a charge.

Along the wall, they each grabbed the rope coiled at their feet and tied off, throwing it down over the wall. Erebor was secure, the battle had begun, their part in the act was over for now. As each of them hit the ground in front of the wall, Bombur lit each of the ropes on fire, letting their usefulness to anyone trying to breach Erebor burn with it.

Half of Dain's men made to join the elves, and the other spit off for Erebor. Dain rode up, brandishing his hammer.

"Quite a plot ye've got, cousin. Complicated as all hell I say. Why can't we jus take 'em head on?"

"Perhaps one day I will be able to explain. But for now, hold to the plan."

The dwarves formed their lines as another horn sounded and the orc forces split off towards Dale. They'd find their own surprises there when they realized the city was empty. Well, except for Bard's hidden soldiers anyway. His archers could pick them off from above like shooting fish in a barrel, and with no civilians to protect it would make their jobs even easier.

Dwarves in place on either side and behind them, Dain reached to the horn on his belt and let out a long blast once, then twice.

"To the King!" He bellowed.

Sword raised, the company charged ahead into the fray. Thranduil's men spit as best they could to make way and Thorin pushed them into the enemy lines like a spear. It shattered the orc line and the heavy hit of armored dwarves stunned the nearest enemies. There was, thankfully, relatively little for her to worry about all things considered. Between the elves and the dwarves surrounding her she was picking off stragglers at the most. Smooth slices and quick footing downed orcs already unsteady from hammer blows.

She could feel the change in her body, a stiffness in her swing still, but it didn't hurt so much that she couldn't push past it, the adrenalin of battle put a lightness in her that was just enough to keep her stamina going.

Dwalin laughed as he lunged past her, slicing the arm off an orc several yards away. The dwarves wove around her like they'd rehearsed it. But their good fortune couldn't last the whole time, and she swore she smelled the troll before she saw it.

"Troll!" She yelled, grabbing their attention. It's not that she didn't, at this point, have a fair bit of experience with trolls, but none of them had had maces for hands.

Kili hollered something and a green blur flashed past the corner of her eye. Legolas shot through the air, apparently having used Kili as a spring board, and sank his knives into its chest. He stabbed them into the troll like ice picks until he reached the rider and sliced off its head.

"Fucking show off, every damn time." She muttered.

"So it's not just me, then?" Tauriel asked with a knowing smirk as she joined Josephine.

"He only gets worse about it with age."

Legolas hopped down and came back over to them.

"Just couldn't stay away, huh?"

"I'd rather not owe you a favor for the next several decades is all."

"Uh huh. Sure. We'll be talking about this when I get home." She joked. "Seven, so far, by the way. That troll only counts as one." She pointed her sword to the still body behind him.

He frowned and looked back. "One what?"

"Oh forget it!"

"What is it with you and that sniveling elfling?" Nori yelled as he ran by.

Thorin's voice cut through the noise of the battle, calling her name as he rode up on one of the goats brought by Dain. "It's time! If we do not go now, we'll be overrun."

"There's two thousand orcs between you and the hill." Legolas reminded her as she took Thorin's hand up onto his mount.

In the distance, cheers sounded from the chariot that Dwalin, Fili, Kili, and Balin had just taken over.

"Sounds like we need a diversion then." If Legolas had anything to say in reply, Josephine didn't hear it. Thorin told her to hold on tight and pushed the goat into a gallop.

They burst through the lines in a flurry of blades, the ringing of steel and smell of blood so thick in the air it was stifling. By the time they reached the bridge she had to let her sword arm drop and a grunt slipped out before she could stop it.

"Josephine?"

"I'm fine. Go!"

They sped up the hill, Fili, Kili, and Dwalin riding up behind them. The forces protecting the hill were sparse, and she let the dwarves cut them down. She'd need everything she had for what was coming.

The fight was quick once they reached the top and stood on the edge of the frozen river. Josephine had thought about this day for months now, dreading it and hoping for it all at the same time. It was silent, only a few first flakes of snow blowing through the fog that crept in around the tower.

"It looks empty, like Azog has fled!" Kili said with excitement.

"Empty indeed." Thorin said warily, looking over at Josephine.

"No one goes in that tower." She said quietly enough to not be overheard by the enemy.

"Thorin!" Dwalin yelled from his lookout point. "Goblin mercenaries, no more than a hundred."

"Bolg's forces will be waiting for us, all of you stay close!" Thorin ordered, grabbing her by the arm. "Keep low, conserve your strength. Kili! Watch after her, we'll handle the goblins."

The three charged into the squeaking forces climbing over the walls and Fili drew her back away from the fighting, up into the ruins along the river.

The goblins were barely anything for Thorin and the others after dealing with the large Gundabad orcs down below. At least they had their backup in place, ready to come as soon as Azog showed himself. Sure, Bolg's forces might surround the hill, but if the elves could get the high ground things would go a lot smoother.

"If there was ever a time for you to not be reckless, Kili, it's right now." She said warily, eyeing the tower and keeping the other eye on the fight.

"I'm the reckless one? You shouldn't even be here, Josephine! You're in no shape for this fight, I can see your sword arm shaking."

She shifted her sword to her other hand and stretched her arm carefully. "It'll be fine, this'll all be over soon enough."

One way or another.

From their vantage point the battle was going well, but movement caught her eye and she turned. Through the fog dark bodies crawled over the rock, aiming to flank Thorin.

"Shit." She hissed. They hadn't taken the bait, hadn't sent anyone in to check the tower, so the orcs were going to plan B. Sword back in hand she started creeping towards the opposing force which hadn't noticed them hiding below.

"Josephine," Kili whispered when saw what she was thinking. "No!"

"Josephine, yes." She whispered over her shoulder.

The fog gave the orcs good cover, but it also gave her and Kili enough cover to not be noticed as they drew closer and closer.

Josephine chose her timing carefully, waiting until they were close enough to Thorin that they could split off and take care of Bolg's forces and the last of the goblins. Finally, when she saw her chance she lunged, slicing into the lead orc's achilles, sending him tumbling down into the battle below and getting Thorin's attention.

Besides her, Kili sprang into action, sending orc after orc rolling down as the two of them retreated towards Thorin and the others. It was going well, but she was nervous. She'd changed things and now she either saved them all, or really fucked them over.

There wasn't time for Thorin to scold them for joining the fight, the forces were thick and getting heavier. The sound of battle was filtering up from below as the elves took their chance.

Kili went up against a large orc near the edge of the river and a heavy arm threw him off onto the ice, too far from the rest of them. Much too far.

Josephine bolted, too afraid to take her eyes off of him as he lay there, stunned.

"Kili!" Thorin yelled, following close behind her.

She dropped to her knees and slid up next to Kili, who was trying to catch his breath and wincing in pain.

That was when they heard the drums.

Deep within the tower they thrummed in her chest and coming through the mist, she saw him. Azog. He was smiling, staring at Thorin with a smug grin from the other side of the river.

"Stay here." Thorin commanded, stepping away to meet Azog's challenge. "All of you." He added, when Fili started towards them from the other side.

"Uncle!" He called.

"Fili, take Kili and go help Dwalin." She snapped, trying to draw his attention.

"I will not leave him to fight Azog alone!"

"Go. Now!"

"Josephine!"

"Fili, this is why I'm here. Now take your brother and go! No heroics!"

As reluctant as she'd ever seen him, Fili shouldered Kili's weight and hurried back towards Dwalin. Josephine stiffened, drew her shoulders back, and pressed her free hand to her chest, above the tree carved inside her armor. There were no more seconds for thoughts or wishes, all that mattered was reaching Thorin.

Thorin was fighting Azog further up towards the tower, holding his own for the time being. Orcs got in her way but they were the least of her worries, she'd be damned if one of them was the reason she failed. The closer she got the more her heart pounded, the less she felt the strain in her limbs, and the more fearful she was.

Azog brought his blade down on Thorin's and he stumbled as she reached them. She slammed into the back of Thorin, giving him the leverage to push Azog away. He could be mad at her for showing up, later.

Two on one and they still struggled against the pale orc. He was massive, bigger than an Uruk-Hai and far too intelligent. But Thorin's fury was giving him the strength he needed and even as they skidded back onto the ice they held their own.

"Foolish." Azog laughed, swinging his blade in a wide, flat arc that sent them both ducking.

Thorin was tired of this, Josephine could tell, and worried about both of their waning strength. His brow was drawn deep and he tensed, just barely noticeable to her and Azog surely missed it. He charged towards the orc, lashing out while his blade was still out of the way.

Azog couldn't strike him with his sword arm, but he did catch him with the other and flung him into a wall. Thorin slumped down, his eyes shut.

"You first then."

She met Azog's cold, hate soaked eyes and swung her sword to block his, skidding back with no traction as the ice started to mix with the fresh snow. With Thorin out of the way, Azog could toy with her like a cat, wear her down, which was exactly what he was enjoying.

Block after block, injury or no, she wouldn't last long, and Thorin was showing no sign of waking up.

Her sword flew out of her hand and Azog's fist closed around her throat, lifting her into the air. He drew his blade back, slow like he was savoring the moment. Slow enough for her to reach behind her, grasp the hilt of Aragorn's sword, and slice it down into Azog's wrist, nearly severing it in the process.

He drew the limb back towards him, trying not to lose his hand entirely, distracted just enough that Josephine took the chance. She charged him, stabbing at his leg and knocking him to the ground.

As his sword came up to block her she threw all her weight against his arm and used two hands to bring the knife down on it. It cut into the muscle, leaving half his limb hanging by a handful of veins and tendons.

Fumbling, he tried to grab at her with nothing but bloodied stumps, but even he wasn't so strong that the blood loss wouldn't faze him. Hot arterial blood ran into pools beside him, steaming against the ice.

Panting, straining, she dropped knee first onto his chest. Both hands wrapped around the knife, she raised her arms over her head, bringing it down into the soft point of his right eye socket with a guttural, angry scream. He twitched twice and went limp, but she didn't stop. Couldn't stop.

She raised the knife again. And again. And again. She didn't stop until his face and neck were no more than a pile of broken bones, flesh, and blood.

Only when she started to hear the world around her again, did she realize there'd been a rushing in her ears. With sound came sensation, a searing burn in the scarring on her back, a trembling in her arms. She looked down at her hands, coated with sticky black orc blood and the tip of Aragorn's knife, dripping thick drops onto the ice.

She pushed away from Azog, now sure he was dead, and entirely spent. Her chest heaved with exertion as she fell back onto the ice and stared up at the sky. Morning fog was lifting and hues of blue were starting to peek through.

"Josephine!"

Thorin.

He pulled himself to his feet, still unsteady and waking up, and fell down to his knees beside her.

"I'm okay." She panted. "I'm not hurt. Well, no more than is to be expected but I'll…" another pant "Be fine."

He looked at Azog, somewhere mixed between happiness and disappointment. She knew he'd wanted the last blow to be his. "I'm sorry it wasn't you."

"You've done what I could not. He is dead, it matters not who struck the final blow."

"You would've managed without me, but I wasn't too keen on you dying for it." With a grunt she started to push herself back up and very suddenly decided against moving. "Fuck…"

"Rest." He said gently, drawing her head up into his lap. "You have more than done your duty." He smiled widely and looked up at the sky as the eagles joined in the battle.

"Well it's about damn time." She sighed. "Every time they show up I'm unconscious."

"Uncle! Josephine!" Fili hollered, with Kili limping beside him.

Kili sat down hard beside her and winced. "Are you okay?"

"She will be fine, Kili, do not fear." Thorin assured him.

The sounds of battle in the valley were quieting and Josephine let out a deep breath that she felt like she'd been holding since that day in the Shire. With another grunt, she held a hand out to Fili. "Come on, help me up. My ass is going numb."

The three of them pulled her to her feet and once she was upright and got her bearings they walked to the edge of the falls and looked down over Erebor and Dale.

A fourth voice startled them, and Bilbo stepped up next to her with his hands on his hips. "Well then, it looks like you've had things well in hand."

"Mission accomplished." She grinned, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes as she looked at the three Durins, alive and well.

She and Bilbo shared another smile and she turned back to look out over the valley.

But there was no valley, no city, no mountain in front of her. A biting cold wind blew through thick evergreen trees and bare shrubbery. Hills rose behind her and below, a wide river flowing to the south. White capped mountains stood beyond that, a familiar south eastern line.

She knew the woods around her. Ithilien.

Chapter Text

Josephine couldn't separate how she felt as she looked out through the trees. Excitement? Joy? Sorrow? It all mixed together and bound into her chest like cement. Suddenly, now far from the battle and surrounded by pine and juniper, the scent of blood and death seemed to have soaked into her skin. Everything was too much, too cloying, too loud, too bright. She retched into the bushes beside her, sinking down with her back against the nearest tree.

She needed a moment's rest, a break, a pause to try and make sense of the sudden shift. From battle to peace, victory to history. It was a while before she was able to move again. With the sun westerning, she grabbed onto the trunk of the tree and pulled herself to her feet, a pounding pain between her eyes.

Easing herself down towards the riverbank she leaned over the icy water and cupped her hands, letting the Anduin wash away Azog's blood. It faded away like black ink and when it was all but gone, thirst took her over and she drank deeply.

From her estimation, she was at least a two days' ride from the city. It would be a hike, but she was sure she'd run into a patrol of rangers sooner rather than later, all she had to do was walk. But as the sun dipped lower and the temperature dropped, so did her eyes, and she barely realized she wasn't going anywhere till morning before she fell asleep.

She woke well after dawn, clutching her cloak around her against the frigid winter air. Her stomach growled and she drank more water, having nothing else to give it. She had rested, but now she had to travel, she needed to be home and needed him. Rest could wait.

As she walked she plucked a few short green needles from a tree and chewed them, letting the citrusy taste of them distract her hunger as she turned south, towards home.

It was slow going, she felt a bit like she'd been run over by a truck and then chewed on by a warg. With nothing to eat since the morning prior, she had to occasionally fight off bouts of dizziness and gratefully stuffed a couple leaves into her mouth of late season athelas she'd come across by accident.

By the afternoon she'd barely covered five miles and when a sound came over the wind, like a whisper across the river, it was so faint she wasn't sure if she'd actually heard anything. Ahead there was a crash of brush in the distance and her hand flew to her knife, afraid it was an animal. No ranger moved through the wilds so noisily.

But then it came again, the sound, closer now.

Her name.

Barreling through the trees and down the riverbank towards her, Boromir charged like a bull.

Boromir?

"Boromir!?" She called, finally letting herself stop, too tired to run.

She let her weight drop into him the second he reached her and immediately she was in his arms.

"What are you doing here?" Rangers yes, Boromir though?

He pulled back, resting his hand on the crown of her head and kissing her forehead. I came to find you. We feared you might return somewhere in the wilds. It seems we were right."

He looked her over, touching a gloved hand to her pale, cold face. "Oh, little sister." He unclasped his fur lined cloak and pulled it around her shoulders, pulled his gloves off with his teeth and stuffed her hands into them, then he had her in his arms again.

"You look like you have walked through the very depths of Mordor and back again."

"You should see the other guy." She mumbled into his shoulder, shuddering at the memory of Azog and the mess of him that she'd left behind.

Tears were in his eyes when he looked back down at her and smiled. 'Come, our camp is not far. Do you have strength enough to walk?"

"If you don't wanna get there fast." She said wryly.

He laughed, strained as it was as he wiped at his eyes and sniffed. "Come, little sister." He drew the horn from his belt, the one she'd commissioned specially to make up for what she'd made him do at Amon Hen, and blew four short blasts over the hills. "So the others know to return."

"Aragorn, is he…" She didn't dare hope he was out there too, but she needed to know for sure.

"Well, and awaiting you in Minas Tirith. We thought it best he be there, where you knew to find him."

Not there, but not far.

In a way that was almost reminiscent of the Fellowship's journey, he stayed a step behind her, a hand ready to steady her with any stumble or slip. Those days seemed like another lifetime now, hell they almost were.

As they approached the camp, six horses stood in a makeshift pen to one side, and two rangers sat by the fire, neither of which she knew. But they knew her when they saw her, and snapped to their feet and bowed low.

Boromir sat her down by the fire and took a spare blanket that he added to the warmth of his cloak. "Are you hungry?"

"Staved." She groaned and admitted. "Haven't eaten in almost two days."

Immediately one of the rangers grabbed the cooking pot and made for the river to collect water. The other Boromir sent off, to take one of the horses and bear the news to Gondor that she'd been found.

She felt watched, not so much by Boromir, but by the other ranger. The coil in her chest was stuck tight still, straining but not loosening. She was not the Seer anymore, she was their queen, and it was not time yet for that coil to unwind.

Soon they were joined by a third ranger, and then the more familiar form of a fourth as the stew boiled over the fire.

He laughed triumphantly. "Hah! When I heard Boromir's horn I dared not hope, but once again you prove my pessimism wrong."

"Halbarad!" She was so cocooned in blankets and cloaks that she had to find her hands again to get them out and reach for him to come over.

He took her hand, holding back out of respect, and knelt beside her with a bowed head. "My lady."

"None of that, come here." She wrapped her arms around his neck so suddenly he nearly lost his balance

He plopped down next to her as Boromir spooned broth into a bowl and handed it to her. "Slowly, or you'll regret it." He reminded her, as if she'd forgotten some of their leaner days of traveling.

"Once I'm done we can set out." She said, sipping at the edge of the bowl.

Boromir and Halbarad exchanged a not so subtle glance. Halbarad cleared his throat and shifted a bit awkwardly. "My lady, you should rest for the night. Riding in your current state-"

"I've ridden in way worse shape than this. I want to go home."

Boromir's expression fell, seeming to wonder what state that could've been, because it hadn't happened during the war. "Please, little sister, we can set out again before dawn. You will fall asleep riding if we leave now. Aragorn would not wish you to travel like this."

Josephine looked away bitterly, knowing Boromir was right in what Aragorn would want. But she was so close, it hurt to not keep moving.

Halbarad added in another two cents. "The nights are too dark to travel safely through these hills, there is no moon tonight to guide us. Besides." He gave a dramatized yawn. "I'm far too weary to set out tonight, we do not all bear your stamina my lady."

"Fine, first light then." She hesitantly conceded. "But you will wake me up when it's time to leave, no matter how hard I'm sleeping."

>>><<<

She did sleep, eventually. In the low glow of the fire with Halbarad sitting not two feet from her head, she stared up at the stars. Exhaustion fought the aching of her body, which fought her yearning to be home, all of which had to fit heavily with fresh memories of a battle that had ended eighty years ago.

By her feet, Boromir snored and it reminded her of the dwarves, all thirteen of them chugging away like a freight train all night long. At least two of them had been lost to her already.

"Have the stars taken your fears or are they merely reflecting them back to you?" Halbarad asked her quietly, glancing over his arm at her.

"Neither." She said after a moment, glancing up at him. His worn face and graying beard were barely different from what she remembered, and she kept looking at him and Boromir as if they'd disappear like a mirage, even though it was her that did the disappearing.

He cleaned the bowl of his pipe, lit it, and gave it a couple puffs, then set it in one hand and wrapped the other hand around hers. He was grounding her, tethering her to home so she could sleep without being afraid of drifting away. That was finally when sleep took her.

Boromir woke her the next morning, helping her to her feet as she got up, stiff as a board. They'd all broken down the camp as she slept and as soon as she mounted her horse they set off. During the day they barely stopped except to rest the horses and eat small morsels. Josephine was running on fumes, but if she stopped she wasn't sure she'd get moving again, and nothing was going to stop her from getting home.

Boromir and Halbarad took turns glancing concernedly her way, but she'd be damned if she spent more time without Aragorn than was absolutely necessary. They rode into the evening, reaching Osgiliath by midnight. But regardless of the hour, word had reached the city from their messenger and people came out of their homes as their group passed.

Boromir and Halbarad drew their horses back and left her at the head of the column. Josephine squared her shoulders and sat up straight for the first time in hours. No matter how much her chest ached for her to cry at the sight of Osgiliath, she held her composure just like she was expected to. Battle worn and travel weary, but still steady.

They departed Osgiliath quickly, switching to fresh horses and gaining a company of soldiers that took formation around them and secured the road ahead.

There, across the Pelennor, it sparkled in the darkness with countless lanterns and torches. A short ride, one she'd made countless times during the beginning of reconstruction, one she'd feared she'd never see again.

"Welcome home, little sister." Boromir said gently, following her eyes towards Minas Tirith.

The gate at the Rammas was open for them and they continued on. Finally, before her stood the gates of Minas Tirith. They opened in anticipation and shut smoothly behind them as they filled the courtyard.

A trumpet sounded, alerting the gate wardens to open at each level up to the citadel. Josephine looked up, over the tiers of her city, her home, to the spire of Ecthelion where he waited. Still, it seemed so far away. The ride from the first level to the seventh could easily take an hour at a walk. There was no way she could bear it.

She looked over at Boromir and shifted in her saddle. Whether he understood or not, she didn't know, but she dug her heels in and spurred her horse into a gallop. Not one more second longer, she'd paid enough time and her hurts could wait.

Through each gate she flew, bent low over the horse's neck, a trumpet sounding at each gate behind her to harken her coming.

Past the upper stable, through the passage without stopping to dismount, she shot into the courtyard where, wide eyed, he was waiting.

Josephine dropped the reins and jumped down, using her last to close the gap between them as he ran to her.

And just like that, instantly she was in his arms again, her knees buckling as he clutched her body to his. Him. His smell, his warmth, his touch, all just as she remembered.

He breathed her name and buried his face in the cook of her neck as they sank together onto the ground.

"Don't let go." She whispered, begging. "Don't…" Her voice cut out, a million things stuck in her throat.

"Sidh, Josephine." There was a crack in his voice and a tremble in his tone.

They finally pulled away, after how long neither of them knew, though they only parted far enough to see at each other. He brushed his hand over her hair and looked at her face worriedly. "Muin meleth nin."

He ever so gently pressed his lips to her and she drew into his kiss like it was the only thing that could save her from dying.

Nothing else mattered. She was finished. Finally, it was time for rest. Numbly, she let him draw her arm over his shoulder and helped her back to her feet. Slowly, so slowly, they made their way towards the King's house. But now, haste didn't matter.

>>><<<

Aragorn could have burst with all the emotion churning in his chest, but there would be time for that later. Ciril was waiting for them just inside, and hurriedly took Josephine's other arm.

"I simply cannot tell you how relieved I am to have you home." She said.

Josephine smiled at the older woman wearily. "Hey, Ciril. I missed you too."

Muddy boots or no, they went straight to the bedchamber without stopping and Ciril started making quick work of her breastplate while Aragorn knelt to take off her greaves.

"I've drawn you a bath." Ciril said, gathering the breastplate under one arm and taking the greaves from Aragorn. "I will take my leave, but I shall be in the sitting room if I'm needed."

With damp eyes, Ciril bowed her head to Josephine and slipped out, shutting the bedchamber doors behind her.

"A bath?" Josephine sighed longingly. "What's that?"

Her nearly ever present humor, oh how he'd missed that too.

Methodically, he went on taking the rest of her armor, setting aside piece by piece before carefully easing the mail tunic off of her. He couldn't miss the pained expression that passed across her face and more worry knotted in his gut. Sore, he reminded himself. That was likely all it was, nothing a salve could not ease.

Down to her pants and sweat stained linen tunic, he couldn't help but think she seemed so much thinner than when she'd left. Too many days with too little fare, stress and exertion and who could say what else.

With her tunic went the last curtain over bruises that mottled her arms, her neck, and her sides. Blood had dried brown in places on the back of the linen and he frowned. It could be no blood but her own.

He stepped around her and saw a flash of fear in her eyes as he did. His gaze fell on her back, its once smooth skin now puckered in waves of raised scars, white tissue sucking hard at pink flesh. Several places were scabbed and weeping, as if the very skin had ripped apart like a shirt seam.

There was no way to mistake the wounds as anything but what they were. He's seen such wounds before, far in the south and it made him feel sick. He swallowed hard, remembering the screams he'd heard in his dreams and knowing that she'd probably done the same as the lash came down on her.

Tears rolled down his cheeks and he was glad she couldn't see them. He gave himself just those few seconds before wiping them away, steeling himself to face her again.

"I will see to them." He promised, brushing his fingers along her jaw. He tried to cover and hide his own pain from her, but he knew she was picking up on it, even in her exhaustion. At least she seemed eased by the calm that he barely managed to carry.

He helped her out of the rest of her clothes and half carried her to the bath, holding onto her as she sank into the steaming water. He let go just long enough to roll his sleeves up to the elbow and shift to kneel next to the tub by her head.

She drifted as he carefully unwound her braid, finding bead after bead tucked into it like a spell until her hair fell down the edge of the tub in waves. In washing the blood and sweat and grime away, he found every bruise and scar. Her neck was a mottle of old and new ones and her nose was still tender from a break. Pale, less noticeable, were scars circling her wrists, jagged shallow cuts from rough ropes. Ropes she had struggled to escape.

It was unspoken between them that the story would wait. Tonight, she needed him to tend to her, bear the weight, and he would ask nothing of her in the way of answers.

He felt the new length in her hair as he rinsed it clear, and the gauntness of her cheeks as he wiped away splatters of orc blood. Aragorn hoped the hollowness behind her eyes would fade with sleep and rest and full meals again.

The water was brown when he lifted her from the water and set her at her dressing table to dry her, bandage her wounds, and slip her shift over her head. Finally, he picked up her brush and ran it gently through her hair, smoothing it and braiding it again.

When he looked up he saw her watching him in the mirror, but her eyes were blank. Her chest started heaving. Quick breaths sucked up into her lungs and barely left them. She trembled, like a dear that had just escaped certain death from a pack of wolves.

Sinking to his knees in front of her he took her face in his hands. "You are safe, Josephine. I am here."

Tears poured from her eyes and whether she was aware of the whimpers that came with each breath he couldn't say. They called it shock, she had told him one, but he cared not what its name was now.

Scooping her into his arms he laid her in their bed, putting her on her side with her knees tucked up to her chest. He climbed in beside her and wrapped his body around hers, feeling it shake against him.

"Sidh." He said softly. "I am here. Sidh."

Hours or minutes passed, he couldn't say which. He measured time in her short, quick breaths, laying in agony until they grew longer and fuller again. With that she finally fell asleep, too spent from everything to go on without it. And just like that, they didn't move again until dawn.

Chapter Text

Josephine slept hard that night, barely shifting an inch while Aragorn held her. Aragorn himself didn't sleep. By dawn he thought he might have managed to memorize every bit of her face, her hair, and her hands, all changed from when she'd left.

Long after dawn, he finally slipped carefully out of their bed to speak with Ciril who he could bustling around outside the door. He wondered if she'd slept at all last night either.

He shut the door behind him quietly, worried he might disturb Josephine. Ciril was in front of the fire, cleaning blood and grime off of Josephine's breastplate. In the light of day he could see how well made it was, well fit to her with a couple fresh scores on the front that made him cringe when he saw them. Blades that had come too close.

"Good morning, majesty." Ciril said. "Should I send word to the kitchens?"

"Please," He said absentmindedly, pulling his attention from the armor. "Light fare."

She set her work aside and stood, drying her hands on her apron and heading down the hall. Aragorn picked up the breastplate, looking it over more closely, stopping at the golden tree on the inside. Whoever had fit her in her armor did it well, with care, and knew such a thing's importance to her. It was a small comfort.

From the main doors, he was interrupted as someone bellowed his name. Gimli barged into the room with Legolas hesitantly on his tail. Ciril came last and looked apologetic but Aragorn waved off her concerns.

"Where's the lass?" Gimli barked.

Aragorn held his finger up to his lips. "Sleeping, unless your exuberance has woken her."

"Oh!" Gimli mouthed. "Sorry…"

"Is she well?" Legolas asked.

Was she? No, not as far as he was concerned. But he nodded reluctantly and added. "As well as could be expected given what has happened."

Legolas seemed to understand on a deeper level than Gimli, not surprising given he'd been one of the few there to have actually seen her at the time of the battle.

"Her rest has been well earned." Legolas nodded with a sudden flick of his eyes towards the closed bedchamber doors.

Aragorn turned as they opened just enough for her to slip through. She'd taken her hair out of her braid and it hung limply around the shoulders of her dressing gown. Her eyes were rimmed with dark, tired skin and it was hard for her to hide her stiffness.

"Ah! There's the lass!" Gimli threw his arms open and met her more than halfway with a warm hug and a gentle pat on the back that made Aragorn flinch with worry, knowing what lay beneath her gown.

But she didn't so much as twitch and held Gimli close for a moment before straightening back up and looking over at Legolas.

The air in the room stilled and something cut between the two that both he and Gimli noticed, but didn't understand. Legolas didn't speak, but Aragorn was sure he'd never seen the elf look so sheepish ever in his life.

Finally, Josephine broke the silence, a cold expression on her face. "I want my sword back."

Legolas bowed his chin. "I have already sent for it from Mirkwood."

Josephine was still, stern, and somewhat frightening. Aragorn hadn't had any reason to think that bad blood had formed between the two during the journey but now he wondered.

"I told you so."

"You did." He admitted.

"Not bad for a thief and a whore, huh?"

Gimli coughed and his eyes flashed towards Legolas. "What is goin' on ye pointy eared-"

"There are many things spoken in that time I wish I could take back. I only hope now to gain forgiveness for them."

Josephine stared him down, unblinking. Second after second passed and no one dared interrupt her.

Legolas finally couldn't take it and shifted awkwardly. "Forty-one." After a few more seconds without her answering he went on. "But given it was you who slayed Azog the Defiler, I believe you won the contest by default.'

She blinked, just the hint of a smirk pulling at her lips as Gimli's surprise flashed on his face.

"But I thought- Thorin-"

"He could not speak of her deeds lest he give away her presence." Legolas explained. "If not for her, your kin would have fallen at Ravenhill. It was a noble charge, one that I made far more difficult than was necessary."

Finally her coldness softened. "I missed you."

She wrapped him in a hug that Legolas gently reciprocated, though Aragorn couldn't help but notice how consciously he seemed careful of her back. Had he been there when she'd been injured? Had he known this whole time just how taxing everything had been on her? Even if he had though, Josephine's order of silence would've kept him from saying it.

Legolas drew back with a smile and looked to Gimli who was between confusion and anger as he guessed at what had made her so angry at Legolas.

"Come my friend, we should not keep her, there is much rest she needs to account for." He squeezed her hand as a goodbye and drew Gimli back down the hallway.

>>><<<

Their visitors gone, Josephine allowed a slouch to creep back into her body and drew close to Aragorn, leaning against his chest.

"You should not be on your feet." He said, lightly wrapping his arms around her as she folded into him. "Did we wake you?"

Josephine shook her head. "Last night was a blur, I needed to get up and move a bit so it didn't feel like so much of a dream." He smelled like clean linens and the fragrant oils she put in her hair, like home. "I promised myself once that when I got back I'd let you put me on bedrest for as long as you wanted and I wouldn't complain but I needed to walk around."

Too much time traveling and planning and running and now that she could finally truly rest, she didn't know how. But she was afraid if she didn't figure it out she'd keep going until her body quit right out from under her.

"It will take time, you have seen much in your months away, of that I am certain." He smoothed back her hair, brushed his fingers along her cheek, and placed a kiss on her head. "Are you in pain?"

In all honesty, it seemed like everything hurt, from her head down to her toes but she'd gotten so used to aches and pains that it took her a second to answer him in any way other than promising she'd be fine. "I feel like shit."

He gave her another kiss that said all that needed to be said in response. I know, I understand, I'm here.

"The wounds on your back…"

Josephine stiffened, nervous though she didn't know why.

"How long has it been?'

Unable to muster anything above a hoarse whisper and answered, "Mid July." she swallowed a thick lump. "Goblintown."

His voice stayed steady and soft, an assuredness that gave her something to hold onto.

"Some of them were reopened in the battle, but I will do what I can. Lord Elrond will also be able to help."

"He's here?" She realized after she said it that she had in fact, sent him there as her personal mailman through the decades, but she hadn't considered he'd still be there when she got home.

Looking up she followed his hand to his collar where he pulled it aside and revealed an edge of blue fabric tied around his neck.

"He had a token of which to bring."

She touched it lightly and smiled. "I spent all night finishing it. It was your mother's idea."

His eyes filled with tears but he smiled too.

"You were a very precocious child."

Aragorn gave a chuckle and guided her towards the sitting room at a slow, careful pace. "I wish I had realized long ago that you were the woman who came to see her. It may have saved us a great deal of grief."

He arranged the cushions on the settee before the fire and helped her recline back against the arm, the comfort immediately offering some relief from the ever present aches and exhaustion. "Better you didn't, it would've made our meeting in Dunland really awkward and weird."

He cast her a glance as he draped a blanket across her legs and she amended herself. "Weird-er."

She wanted to tell him everything, but she was following the path their conversation took, avoiding the sharp hurt of the first day or recounting the journey in full from start to finish. There would be a time for that, when others came and she told it like a story of adventure and valor. These moments were only for the two of them.

He sat down on the edge by her legs and gazed down at her with soft eyes that drew her in like a magnet.

Josephine reached out for him, letting her fingers glance over his face, his hair, and his lips, before resting in his hands. "Sometimes I thought I'd never see you again." She whispered. "I'd do it all again if I had to." Every second, every agony, every fear.

He blinked back tears and kissed her palm. "If I could, I would take every moment of suffering you've endured. I heard you calling out for me in my dreams, I thought I would die for want of you." Her eyes slipped shut as he kissed her, trailing down her jaw and the bruises on her neck. When he pulled away his hands stayed wrapped around her. "Concern yourself only with healing and rest, meleth nin, I will see to all else until you are ready."

Chapter Text

They spoke, they ate, and he helped her back to bed where she slept for another few hours. Boromir took care of the necessary announcements and Aragorn gave the guards outside strict orders against visitors so she wouldn't be disturbed. That evening though, he called for Elrond after she'd woken up again. Aragorn stroked her hair as Elrond gently removed the bandages from the night before.

Aragorn stilled his face on the outside, knowing she could see him, but inside he thought he'd crawl out of his own skin. It was even worse in the daylight, worse when he wasn't trying to take in a dozen different things.

But Elrond's touch was light as he checked the wounds and his voice was calm. "They have fared no worse than I would expect. The wounds will heal easily, though the scars will remain."

"I can work with that. Dudes dig scars." She joked, glancing up at Aragorn from the bed and giving him a wink.

Elrond passed him a reassuring smile as he struggled to hold his pain back from his amused expression for her.

"I am pleased to see you still bear your sense of humor." The elf lord told her as he reached for an earthy, pungent salve.

"The dwarves won't let me get rid of it…wouldn't."

Neither missed her correction, in the span of a few seconds her present had become her past and it hadn't been the first time that had shown itself.

"You're sure the messengers left this morning?"

She'd been insistent word reach Erebor as soon as possible, especially when she found out he'd sent his own messengers there months ago begging after answers. "Boromir saw to it himself, you need not worry."

He reached for her hand as Elrond began to apply the salve and she grimaced. Here and there her hand would twitch in his, the muscles in her back would tense, or she'd bite back a hiss of pain.

Elrond saw it too and paused. "We can take rest as often as you need."

"You've got a lighter touch than Oin, just get it over with." She groaned.

Her reactions having been noticed, she seemed to be working harder at covering them up, channeling it into squeezing his hand and staying stone faced beyond that.

Aragorn knelt so he could match her gaze, as pinched as it was, and kept stroking her hair, hoping it would distract her even just a little. He found another scar as he did, tucked into her hairline after he'd thought he'd found them all. Another mark of danger. There were so many he couldn't help the anger that sat heavy in his stomach both for the Valar for sending her, and her companions. Surely they could've done better, more, anything. He couldn't bear the thought of her state now, being the best protection that could've been given.

Elrond hit a particularly tender point and she jumped and let out a sharp, whining hiss. "Fuck…"

Tears pricked at the corners of her pinched shut eyes.

Soon it passed and she opened them again, looking back at him like she could read his mind. "It wasn't their fault."

He hung on her every word, both needing to know each step that she'd taken and every moment that had passed from her journey, and fearing the knowledge. He had thought of every horrible thing that could befall her while she'd been gone, fearing it in the long hours of the night, and still he'd not entertained this.

"The timing was off when we fell into Goblintown. If anything it was my fault."

"Shh…" He said gently, shaking his head. "The result of a thing is not always cause for guilt." And yet he couldn't hold a small morsel of it against the Company. It was unjust, perhaps, but he couldn't let go of it, not yet.

Her voice shrank as she kept going, sounding like now that she'd begun she couldn't stop. "I knew Gandalf was coming, I should've done a better job staying hidden-"

"You stayed hidden for as long as you were able." He was familiar enough with the power and pain that the word 'should' could bring to a soul. At every turn she made, he would contest it. "I will not allow you to bear guilt for your wounds, Josephine. If with all your strength you could not avoid them then you also could not have stopped them."

"Aragorn is right." Elrond chimed in. "Little aside from a veritable army could have taken Goblintown. It is surprising that you all escaped to begin with."

Aragorn would never not be grateful to Lord Elrond, but he hadn't realized how much that could grow as time passed.

>>><<<

It was again, late morning before Josephine woke up. Surely with all the sleep she was getting she'd stop feeling exhausted but so far it hadn't changed much. Then again, she probably shouldn't have expected to feel better after only being home for a grand total of two days.

Between Aragorn and Ciril, she'd been arranged in her chair by the fire, with her feet up on a cushion and draped in blankets. She very much felt like some sickly Victorian woman being led around by the hand from chair to bed to settee as needed, but after everything over the past few months, she wasn't minding the hovering so much. Hell, it wasn't like she was all that keen to lose physical contact with Aragorn either, even if it was just for a second.

But she was starting to feel a little closed in, going on day two in their chambers and it wasn't balancing well to her long months outside. Which was why, when Boromir came to speak with Aragorn in the other room, she wasn't about to nap and not know what was going on that required his attention.

Boromir had brushed it off when she'd asked, nothing pressing, just an update for Aragorn from the council that he'd just recessed for the hour. But he'd said the word council which meant it was important, especially to her. He'd apparently taken over her weekly councils with the city lords while she'd been gone and that was what he'd come from.

Aragorn though, hadn't been so quick to cut her out, a trait she had, and always would, appreciate about him.

After an explanation from him and some backstory on how things had been going, her interest turned to absolute frustration and she glared at the both of them, though not because either of them had anything to do with the issue.

"You should not have told her." Boromir sighed at Aragorn, brushing his hand over his face. "I could have handled it until she returns to her duties."

"I was gone for what, three months at that point? And he had the balls to start talking about backup plans to replace me?" She wasn't frustrated. She was livid. Maybe not surprised, but definitely angry. "And now he's saying what, exactly?" She stared Boromir down until he broke and answered her.

"He is…questioning the reasons behind your not appearing in court."

"I've been home for a grand total of two fucking day."

"Yes. However, as we are all painfully familiar, Lord Avril was always quite loyal to my father. Any reason he can find to make a negative opinion of you known, he will use it."

Aragorn held back his anger much better than she did and asked him in a measured tone, "And you explained to him that she is wounded and battle worn?"

Boromir nodded and hesitantly continued. "He will not dare say it outright, but it is clear he does not believe the tales of her journey. If we remove that truth, it leaves room for the other, more damaging…rumors."

"Such. As?"

He didn't want to say it, she could tell, but she'd really have rather known what was being said about her than live in some blissful ignorance."

"You were under Halbarad's protection when you disappeared. Some thought you had been killed and he didn't have the honor to admit it, others that you…well the two of you have been close these few years and being who you are-"

"I made it clear where you had gone, with Legolas and Gandalf corroborating it, but the questions had already been asked. It may take time to fully dispel them now that you've returned." Aragorn added.

"And Avril has been leading the charge, I'm sure."

Boromir nodded.

Josephine threw back the blankets and pushed herself up using the arms of her chair for support. Aragorn's hands fell into place on her arm and back to steady her. Ciril was already two steps ahead of her, bustling into the bedchamber and heading for the wardrobe.

"Well we'll see how he feels with my figurative boot up his ass then."

Aragorn kept pace with her and refused to let go of her, moving when she did while Boromir stood in the doorway. "Meleth, you are still not well, the lords can and will wait."

Josephine ignored his protests and slipped away behind her dressing screen as Ciril came over with an opulent gold gown and started helping her out of her shift.

"I didn't spend six months walking over half the map and getting my back fucking flayed open to come home and put up with that man's bullshit. He wants an appearance so he'll get one." She'd forgotten Boromir was there when she said it, and heard the two men speaking in hushed tones that she couldn't make out. The entire company had known about her injury and so did part of the Fellowship, in that moment she'd almost forgotten it was news to break.

Heavy gown hanging from her shoulders, bruises and bandages well within view, she avoided Boromir's eyes as she limped to her dressing table and sat down. She felt a pang of guilt for the tears in his eyes, wishing she'd broken it to him more gently, or even considered that at all before saying it, but she was hot under the collar and feeling more than a little unsteady. Maybe this wasn't the best idea, or maybe it was exactly what needed to happen.

Ciril brushed through her hair and pinned it up behind her head with the final touch of settling her crown securely in place. She always understood the assignment.

Aragorn took Ciril's place, wrapped his arm around her waist, and helped her to her feet. "I do not think this is wise."

"Neither do I." Boromir added from the doorway.

"Probably not, but I can manage for an hour and dismiss the council once Avril's balls have shrunk back down a few sizes."

Was standing up just about her least favorite thing at the moment? Yes. Was the look on Avril's face going to be worth it? Absolutely.

She grabbed something off her table as Aragorn held onto her all the way to the doors and he reluctantly switched to just offering his arm when their solitude was interrupted by the bustle of the citadel and the eyes of servants and guardsmen and scholars.

Josephine tucked her shoulders back and walked steadily, her core cinched up to hold her steady. Eyes followed them and the city was shining in the cold winter sun. The crisp air felt good in her lungs and the wind felt like home.

The council was only waiting on Boromir to call back into session and it looked like everyone had already gone back inside the meeting hall. Perfect.

"Wait here." She told the two of them and nodded to the door wardens.

Letting anger keep her upright, she squared herself and strode smoothly into the room and the eight men on either side of the long council table.

Surprised to see her in Boromir's place, they stumbled to their feet to bow and she nodded to each of them in kind, lingering on Avril just a second longer. She didn't sit, not yet. Standing by the empty head chair she looked down the table at them all. "In case there was a need to dispel any rumors of my untimely demise." She looked coldly at Avril, whose face was starting to look like someone trying to swallow a boiled egg whole. "Or other thoughts on my whereabouts."

With a crack that echoed through the room, she slammed what she'd taken from their chambers on the table. Aragorn's knife, still sitting in its sheath, clearly stained and soaked in black blood. She didn't wield it, or brandish it, she only left it there so they could see the dark blood and scores in the sheath. Evidence of battle, as if her own body and the bruises and scars they could see wasn't proof enough

No one spoke, least of all the man that had all but brought her there. So she picked the knife back up, handed it to the nearest guardsman, and sat.

"Now, I will answer what questions I can but there's a lot for me to catch up on here so if we could keep them brief?"

Few questions were, in fact, asked. They'd been given the explanation during her time away so that having her confirm that she'd been there was almost enough for them. The rest of the time was spent on the state of the city and everything she'd missed. It was well over an hour before she was able to call the council to a close and she was grateful that neither Aragorn nor Boromir had interrupted. Doing it alone gave her more weight, but now as the lords filed out, she could feel her own weight sinking into her chair.

She had to get up, there was no resting until she was back in their chambers. If she limped back or, god forbid, let anyone carry her, it would pick at the whole effect she'd meant to have when she entered that room.

When the doors opened again she was expecting Aragorn or Boromir, but a different voice met her that made her smile.

"I believe you frightened them."

Eowyn swept in with a smirk on her face, looking smugly down at her.

Josephine's heart swelled and she pushed to her feet to wrap her in a hug. "God, I missed you."

"It is good to see you again, my friend." She pulled back to take a look at Josephine and grimaced but held some humor in her tone. "I think you looked better after Helm's Deep than now. I do hope you made them pay for it."

"Tenfold." She promised.

"Good." She looped her arm around Josephine's waist and led her towards the door. "So I suppose we can move on to the good things that have happened since you've been gone? Honestly, I'm surprised Boromir has been able to keep so quiet, he's been absolutely ridiculous ever since he found out he is to be an uncle."

Boromir ridiculous, good things, yes, Josephine was ready to hear all about- wait.

She stopped and turned. "Sorry, did you just say he's going to be an uncle?"

Eowyn smiled and ran a hand down her stomach. "It's still early so I'm sure you wouldn't have noticed anything."

"Oh…Oh my god, Eowyn!" She hugged her again, her eyes burning with tears that for the first time in months, were actually happy.

They continued on and Eowyn laughed. "Boromir has been incorrigible, I haven't lifted so much as a book in his presence since we told him. So take this as a fair warning for when you come to be with child."

Oh he was going to be awful, she could see it now. "And Faramir? How's he doing?" The short walk to the doors was starting to get to her and she could tell she was getting winded.

"Faramir knows better."

As the doors opened they came face to face with Aragorn and Boromir, both of which held an awkward combination of smug pride and concern.

Boromir cleared his throat and nodded to both her and Eowyn. "Well played, your majesty. I believe you have made your point."

"Mic drop" Josephine raised her arm and mimed letting something fall onto the ground before remembering who her audience was. "Nevermind."

Aragorn hid his smile and shook his head, offering her his arm again. With his support, and Eowyn using their friendship as an excuse to hold onto her other side, they pretended to meander and enjoy the walk back to hide the slow pace she was managing.

Boromir and Eowyn left them when they went inside, and back in the private cloister of their chambers, Josephine sank into Aragorn. "I feel terrible."

Her head was pounding and her whole body felt like jello. Had she really pushed herself so far during the quest that this was the result? That she could be so injured and still ride, fight a dragon and still travel, and kill the pale orc despite it all, but the mere effort of a one hour seated council and short walk to a from her bed made her lightheaded.

Every sense was overwhelming, her skin ached and her eyes throbbed. She buried her face in his chest to try and block some of it out and find some rest. "I need to lie down." She told him as her head spun.

The effort of holding her own weight dissipated as he picked her up and she let herself go limp in his arms.

"I am here, hiril nin. I have you."

He set her on the edge of the bed, holding her steady with one hand while he pulled the combs from her hair and Ciril took the crown away. With the weight of the dress falling away, she took a breath and found it easier again. The soft touch of her shift slipped down over her and Aragorn eased her back into the pillows.

"I think you have done more than enough, this day. Sleep, Josephine."

His hand passed over her brow and she caught it before he pulled away. "Stay." A light tug told him to get in bed with her and he did it without hesitation.

Josephine turned away from the room, the bright windows, and the world. She folded her arms up against her and buried herself in his chest, right where she belonged.

Chapter Text

She was either getting better, or getting more antsy, or both. Aragorn wasn't quite sure which one of the three but he was leaning towards the latter. Her show at the council had done wonders for the citadel's morale, but he was worried about the toll it had taken on her. He'd seen her wounded and coming off the battlefield before, but something about this was much deeper. A hurt driven further into her heart than the others. Just like the journey from Dunland to Mordor had changed Josephine, so had her journey to Erebor and it seemed to have wounded her far worse.

Confusion seemed to come over her in the first moments of morning, a question of where, when, and if it was all real. She tried to hide it from him, tried to pretend she was recovering just fine and going back to their normal routines, but Aragorn knew better. There were details of the journey she hadn't gone into, moments where her throat closed up on her and she moved on quickly. He wasn't sure if she did it to protect him, or because she herself couldn't bear to speak it aloud.

As soon as she was on her feet again she was pressing him for normalcy. Off on their schedules for the day, wanting to return to her study and her plans for Ithilien. It was as if she thought that would help instead of time.

And perhaps, in a way it would, but her sudden shift to home from war worried him. He had seen others bear such a fierce change and been broken by it. Battle demanded time and did not fade as blood was washed away. She had been forced to it during the war by her injury at the gates and their time at Cormallen. Here, she'd had naught but a few days in the wilds before being handed the demands of her station.

He had voiced his concerns to her, but she had not listened. Duty bound her, so she pretended. Lord Avril's attitude towards the situation had put the anxiety in her that the city needed her presence immediately, whole again at least in their eyes.

Not for the first time, Aragorn begged for Halbarad to become her shadow. If she should falter, stumble, or grow too weary, he would see her taken care of when Aragorn could not. A thing had shifted in her in those six months she was gone, a stiffness in her spine that sometimes softened around him, but held rigid the second she thought she might need it. In the nights, she clung to him, fearful and small in his arms. As the sun rose she covered the lost look in her eyes with a firm gaze that fooled all but her closest friends.

His love was home again, but not fully whole.

"You seem pleased to return to your duties today." Aragorn prompted as he pressed his fork into the soft yolk of his egg at their breakfast table.

"I haven't drawn in months, it'll feel good to get something done." She replied distractedly, reaching for a cut of heavily buttered toast.

Pursing his lips he reached across the table and took her hand, dipping his chin to catch her eyes. "Our people need your strength, of that I do not contest. But please, meleth nin, I ask for no mask from you."

There it was again, the shift in her. Tears held back just before they could glisten in her eyes. A precipice she clung to as if the depths below would swallow her if she let go. It was within her day after day, hour after hour, it nearly broke his heart to see.

"If-" She covered the catch in her throat with a sip of tea. "If I don't move forward I'll be swallowed."

"Josephine…" He sighed, frowning with worry. "I am no stranger to darkness, do not think you are alone in bearing such things."

She froze under his gaze and he thought he had almost broken the delicate thing she held to so fiercely, when Ciril's footfalls made for the main doors.

"That will be Eowyn." Josephine said sharply, placing her napkin on the table and standing.

She walked around to him and brushed her hand through his hair, laying the gentlest of kisses on his lips and pausing before pulling away. "I love you." It was her promise, each time since her return it said more than it ever had before. He had doubts and worries of many things, but none of her love for him and his for her.

"And I you." He promised back, brushing the back of his hand softly over her cheek.

She slipped away gently, stiffening straight with each step and meeting Ciril at the doorway who helped her into her cloak. Eowyn caught his eye as she smiled at Josephine, reaching for her arm in companionship. He hoped Josephine would lean on Eowyn that day, agree to her prompts to move slowly and rest frequently.

As they left, he pushed away his plate and sat back, his appetite began clearing the table and poured him a fresh cup of tea that he knew was a silent command to drink. He had learned long ago to accept her quiet mothering, since she was usually correct on such things. That was also why he nodded as he reached for the cup as permission to speak her mind, in which she was also, usually correct.

"She will have to find her way, majesty. There will be days when the most we can offer is our support of her actions."

He sighed. "Even if it is too soon."

She smiled at him sympathetically. "If I may, despite the prevailing opinion, even men as good as yourself cannot heal all of the bruises on a woman's heart. Some she will have to soothe on her own."

Aragorn didn't know where Boromir had found Ciril when he called her to Cormallen to aid Josephine, but he was forever grateful for her care and wisdom.

"Thank you, Ciril."

>>><<<

"I should have known you would not last two weeks." Eowyn said as they walked through the citadel halls.

"Too much time with my own thoughts." Josephine replied, taking a deep breath of cold winter air. It even smelled like home. "I need a bit more normalcy."

"Yes, and when you push yourself too hard and wind up with Aragorn ushering you back to bed I'll be sure to tell you I told you so."

Josephine scoffed. "As if you're any better."

"Follow my advice, not my example." She laughed. "I'm honestly surprised the two of you have left your chambers at all."

"It's not like I've really been up for anything spicy lately." Josephine laughed. "Bruised ribs and a broken nose don't make for a good time in bed." That hadn't stopped them from trying at first, but she hadn't even been able to manage a make out session without breathing too sharply or knocking a bruise. They'd mutually agreed to hold out until she healed up a bit more.

Eowyn swung open the doors of the study and held it open for her. "Here we are, I did try to keep everything where it was, but if anything is misplaced we'll right it again."

The fire crackled in the hearth behind her desk and Josephine looked around. Her drafting table was neatly arranged, everything in its place just as she'd left it before going to Ithilien.

"I'm sure it's fine. I'm just grateful you took over what you could."

From the doorway, Halbarad appeared and cleared his throat to announce himself.

"Ah, I see I have a shadow today?" She said, feigning surprise, assuming he'd show up sooner or later.

"Just bored, mainly. Not much for an old ranger to do in a city this far into winter. Thought you might offer me some company."

"Uhuh." She smirked. "I'll need you to help me draft those repairs on Ithilien I was working on anyway. It's been a while and I'm pretty sure I've forgotten a lot of what we'd been talking about."

He moseyed in and poked at the fire while she looked around and almost cautiously took a seat in her old chair. It looked like Eowyn had done a better job keeping her desk organized than she did and scrolls and books were stacked neatly.

"I don't even know where to start." She admitted.

Eowyn didn't miss a beat, having likely already gone through things and decided how best to get her settled again. "I thought we might go over the last census before your journey, a refresher?"

Josephine nodded tensely and smiled gratefully at her. "A refresher would be great."

>>><<<

Josephine made it all the way to the midday meal. Her head was spinning with all the updates but the normalcy of city business was soothing. She'd needed that kind of morning, something on a smaller scale than war and timelines that was also a distraction from her own thoughts.

Aragorn had made a point to request she break for midday and meet him back in their chambers to eat. A check-in to put some of his worries to rest about her overworking herself, as if Halbarad and Eowyn would've let her.

He was waiting in the sitting room doorway when she came inside and smiled at her, hiding relief she knew he was feeling.

"How was your morning?" He asked, giving her a gentle kiss, being wary of her nose.

"Informative." Not quite the answer he was looking for so she amended, "It feels good to be back."

A true smile crossed Aragorn's face, not one tinged with worry like most of them had been lately. Josephine reveled in it. Then it deepened, bearing a little mischief and she cocked her head. "What did you do?"

"In all the commotion you seem to have forgotten." He took her by the hand and drew her into the sitting room.

He was right, she had forgotten. The battle had fallen at the end of November, which meant now, December had come calling. "What poor bastard did you send this year?" She asked as she smiled at the large evergreen in the corner and took note of Lord Elrond standing by the fire.

"Legolas offered. I believe he is attempting to make amends for his actions."

She chuckled. "I think realizing the look on his face at the Council in Rivendell was a big fat I told you so has done most of the work already but I appreciate his effort." It certainly explained why he'd looked at her like she'd had three heads.

"Lord Elrond has brought several gifts for you as well, though it is early." Aragorn added, looking at a rather large round topped wooden chest with a stack of fabrics and a very familiar oilskin next to it..

"Your things that were left behind when you departed Rivendell." He explained.

"I didn't leave enough for an entire chest." She said with confusion, noting that the stack of clothes had everything she'd worn in it already.

"You were not the only one to bid me the keeper of tokens." He looked to Aragorn. "Your mother bequeathed it to Josephine before she died."

"Gilraen sent it?" Her hands shook nervously as she looked at the chest. Her cloak had been all she thought she'd have of their time together, and it was enough for her, it had had to be. The thought that she'd get anything more brought a thick warmth to her heart that reminded her of the morning Gilraen had dressed her for travel.

She knelt in front of the chest and slowly raised the lid, finding it filled to the brim with fabrics. A piece of parchment lay, yellowing on top in smooth handwriting. Aragorn, seeing her already choking up, took the note and read it aloud.

"My far away daughter, you deserved such a gift before your wedding, but I fear time will not allow for such things. If I cannot be by both your sides that day, let this be my gift."

Josephine began gently picking up items and laying them in her lap. Handkerchiefs, shifts, and robes pooled over her knees with neat stitches and delicate embroidery and she realized what she'd been given.

"She made me a dowry." Her breath hitched and she brought her hand up to her mouth, as if it would contain anything.

Aragorn knelt beside her and ran his hand lightly over the contents of the chest, tears in his own eyes as he started to cry. "I remember…I often saw her making such things and would ask why, for she never used them. She would never tell me."

As if it had been done on purpose, the handkerchiefs were on top and Josephine pressed one to her eyes, but the swell in her chest wasn't done with her yet and a sob broke free. He reached for her and she sank gratefully into his chest.

Hours she'd spent on each thing, stitching her care into each over the years for someone she'd known for a handful of days. Josephine was so eternally grateful to have known her for even that long, and heartbroken more than she'd ever been before, that she wasn't there with them both now.

Chapter Text

The winter sun that came down over the market was cold, but bright. The southern winters of Gondor were still a far cry from the icy autumn of the north and dare she say, she almost didn't need her cloak.

Hand in hand, she and Aragorn wandered the street, something they hadn't done in more than half a year's time. It was their first outing since she'd come home. It was hard not to notice the eyes that lingered on them longer than usual but, aside from going back to a somewhat normal schedule, that was part of the point. The people of Minas Tirith needed to see her alive and at Aragorn's side more than anyone did. Some seemed suspicious almost, others relieved. After hundreds of years without a King, the idea that an heir might not be as certain as they'd thought, had no doubt shaken some of their confidence. Normalcy. It was as important to her for herself as it was for them. They all needed life to go back to normal again.

Aragorn's hand was clasped around hers, warm and sturdy as they walked. Grounding more so now than she could ever remember before the quest for the mountain. She hadn't thought she could fall more in love with him but even now, more than a month later, she was sure it had only grown since April. How could it not?

He passed some coin to a merchant and handed her a warm, fresh roll, steam rolling off of it in the cool morning air. She let go of his hand long enough to break it in three, hand a portion to him, and then another to Halbarad, who was meandering several feet behind them. Her forever shadow.

The bread was sweet and practically melted on her tongue, the exact opposite of the hard bread she'd eaten while traveling. It made her mouth water for more and Aragorn handed her his portion with an unsurprised smirk before she could look longingly at the market stall for another.

Walking again she smiled and looped her arm through his, pressing close against him. "Feels like home." She sighed, looking around and beginning to notice everything that had changed in her absence.

She paused as she caught sight of a building to their right, one that hadn't been there when she'd left. "Oh my god, they finished it?"

It wasn't anything more special than the others, just a shop, but it had been a shop that had come face to face with a flaming boulder during the siege and been reduced to a charred shell of rubble. As she stepped away to get a closer look, Aragorn's hands trailed down her arm as he too stepped away to his own distraction.

"Nothing could slow down the stone smiths except for war itself." Halbarad said, following her. "Your plans were quite thorough, it appears they had little trouble finishing them."

She smiled up at the two story building and the recessed balcony at the top that faced the west. Laundry blew on a line in the breeze, hung between stone hooks carved into the walls. Little touches, but she recognized them.

"Eowyn was showing me the numbers but it's nice to see for myself that people are getting their homes back."

The wind shifted again and blew through the open door of the shop, bringing with it the smells of cooking and the heavy, smoky scent of meat on a spit. Unwittingly Josephine grimaced and her stomach soured. Her mind drew back, finding images of fire, sounds of screams, and charred black flesh.

She swallowed thickly and turned away, finding a pocket of clean air and gulped at it trying to shake the memory.

Halbarad drew close, blocking her from view of the street. "My lady?"

"Just…" She needed to give him an explanation but wanted to brush it all off the moment it happened. "Laketown. I'm fine."

She never had to elaborate when she spoke to someone else who'd seen battle. He could venture enough of a guess what she meant by naming the place and just nodded understandingly.

All too aware that she was still in public, she quickly schooled her expression and smiled as Aragorn came back with an armful of what looked like…

"Parsnips." He said happily, giving them up to one of the guardsmen who was collecting their finds that morning. "I'm pleased to see the crops were as abundant this year as we'd hoped."

"And pleased because you just really like parsnips." She reminded him, plastering over the sour memories with a smile and slipping her arm back through his.

>>><<<

Josephine pressed her palm against the bow and slowly eased the string back. She paid attention to every tug, every pinch, and the familiar press of the string into her fingers. Beside her, Legolas watched carefully as her wrist got as far as her chin before a shake started in her arms. A tap on her elbow told her to let them drop and she frowned.

"I managed to get it further in Mirkwood when you'd handed me yours."

"You had also not yet battled a dragon and slain an orc general." He reminded her. "We will build your strength again, as we did after Morannon."

"I didn't have muscular damage then, at least not in my back." She argued. Her range of motion was still arrested, whatever she'd managed to pull together for the Battle of the Five Armies was gone, probably due to the damage she'd incurred during the fight. "If I need to accept that I won't be an archer again then just tell me, it's honestly a small price to pay for everything."

"Hope is not yet lost, in time, perhaps we might say such a thing, but not yet." He took the bow and hung it on the rack.

She let him take hold of her arm and lift it in place like she was about to draw, then he slowly eased it back to where she used to anchor. It was tight, and his hand felt like it was the only thing that could keep her arm that far back.

"Are you saying that because you really think I can get back to it, or because you feel guilty?" She knew there was still a general guilt that he held, she could see it in his eyes half the time he looked at her, and she needed to know which was pushing him to start teaching her again.

He paused, pressing a hand to her shoulder blade to feel the muscles under her tunic and using the moment to gather his thoughts.

"Both, perhaps." He admitted, returning her arm to her side. "My treatment of you was distasteful regardless of our future friendship. After understanding fully what had happened, I regret much of that time. I suppose the idea of helping you overcome even some of that pain offers me a chance to repent."

The relief at having her Legolas back overshadowed a lot of her anger at how he'd been in the past. Dare she say he felt a lot worse about it than she did and that alone made her feel better about it. He hadn't once tried to brush off how he'd acted, and he'd been nothing but considerate towards her since they'd met again in Rivendell. In her mind, he'd been making amends since the day of the council.

"Gimli tore you a new one, didn't he?"

Legolas gave her a wry smile. "Things were said in Khuzdul that I can only imagine were curses and insults."

"Did you tell him you called him a goblin mutant?" She grinned.

"No." He narrowed his eyes at her. "And I would hope you would not either."

She had no intention to, but she had a bit of fun and looked like she was giving it some thought.

"Josephine, please…"

"I won't, I promise." She laughed. "You should've seen your face!"

Shaking his head, he handed her back the bow. "I suppose I deserved that."

Chapter Text

Her study served several purposes in Josephine's day to day life. A place for her work, of course, and to meet more informally with anyone from stonemasons to lords of the city. But she'd been finding it more than that since coming home. Work offered a distraction and a usefulness that still didn't quite fit into the wound she'd come home with. She retreated to the study in hopes that, maybe that day, her work would take her away from the feeling of unease she still had. One foot stood in Gondor, the other was caught in the past like it had been wedged into the crevice of a rock and no matter what she did, it wouldn't come free.

The tie she couldn't cut, closure she didn't get. Had she made sure of that, that day by the stream in the Shire? Demanding that the moment she was done, she'd return? She couldn't bear the thought of being away from Aragorn for a second longer than she had been, but the suddenness of her journey after Azog was ragged and weeping, like the now closed wounds on her back that had torn open during battle.

Candles burned low around her, purposefully ignored and only replaced when they'd snuffed themselves out. Nightfall came early now, and if she allowed herself to go numb, she wouldn't count the minutes that each finished candle represented.

Shoulds echoed in her head.

Should be more focused.

Should return to their chambers.

Should be better now.

Should not have to read the same paragraph four times to actually take it in.

It paralyzed her. The only way out seemed to be the scratch of her quill over parchment, numbers and statistics that didn't hold memories. Emotionless technicalities.

Should appear more in court again.

Should allow Ciril to schedule luncheon with the ladies of the city.

Should be able to announce an heir to ease the worries of the people.

But court was long and an act was hard to uphold. Luncheon meant her attentiveness as a hostess. An heir required her body to even prepare for one which hadn't happened since Rivendell. None of those things were at her control, but a voice in her mind still whispered about her lacking.

She needed…something. Time, maybe, distance from it all maybe. But she had a duty, and that wasn't going to come as easily. So perhaps healing would take longer then, she could manage that. But no matter how much he wanted to, Aragorn couldn't bear it for her, not even if she could've figured out how to articulate it to him.

A knock startled her and she grabbed blindly at her wobbling inkwell as her wrist sent it rocking. "Yes?"

She got it righted as the door opened and Boromir came in, shutting it firmly behind him with a sigh.

"I saw the light beneath the door, I had hoped it was only a dying fire." He flicked his eyes towards the dead fire in the hearth she'd let die after dismissing the maid early. "Do you have any notion of what time it is?"

She glanced at the window and noticed the moon was nowhere to be seen, probably sitting far above if not behind the city at that point. "Night?" She answered sarcastically.

"Nearly tomorrow." He corrected tiredly, clearly more so from her tone than the actual time.

"I got busy, caught up in stuff and lost track of time." The gig was up so she relented to leaving her work behind and started closing up her books in hopes that he would be satisfied enough with catching her.

"Since when?" He scoffed. "You've always known exactly how many hours have passed while you're working. I'm surprised Aragorn hasn't come to find you himself."

"He's trying not to hover."

"Well perhaps he should." He began to move around the room, pinching out the flames of the wall sconces until all that was left were the two candelabras on her desk. "This is unlike you, little sister."

His term of endearment sank into her chest just a little sharper than usual and she gave a heavy swallow to soothe it. "Yeah, well, trauma will do that."

"I do not condemn you for it, but I do worry when I find you bent over figures when you should be safe in the arms of your long missed husband."

"I'm safe here, and he understands."

Boromir frowned and shook his head as he came back over to her. "What do you run from, Josephine?"

"I'm not running from anything, I'm right here, doing my job."

"Hiding in your job." He corrected. "You are not here with us, not completely, and do not lie and tell me otherwise."

"Even if I was, I wouldn't do it on purpose." She snapped.

His voice softened. "I know. I do not expect any difference after what has happened. But ignoring it will not ease your pain."

Josephine couldn't have this conversation anymore, it was too close to the raw and infected parts of her, it hurt too much and she couldn't stop herself from trying to retreat from it. She blew out the rest of the candles and strode towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Boromir sighed.

"To be safe in the arms of my long missed husband." She threw back dryly, the only tone she could muster that wouldn't betray the cloying emotion in her throat.

Under the torchlight she moved quickly through the halls, past tired guards who snapped to attention as she came into view. She knew Aragorn would've dismissed Ciril for the night and found the solitude of the carpeted hall inside their doors soft and welcoming;.

The fireplace in their private sitting room was still lit, bright at the end of the hall and warming the room enough to make her realize how cold it had been outside.

Aragorn stood from his chair by the fire when she came in. He wasn't angry, but the concern in his eyes only fed the seed that Boromir had planted.

"I'll just be a minute." She said hoarsely, slipping out the iron framed doors onto the balcony. Wind was in her face she pressed her fist to her mouth and it trembled. Why, why was she shaking? Josephine had fought in battle, stared into the maw of a dragon. Those were things to fear, not words.

He'd followed her, she knew he would. He knew her too well for her to hide that she was upset. If she wanted to bear it alone, she would've had to hide in the archives, or found a hidden closet somewhere that she could cry in. But god, she was so tired of crying.

He draped something warm and heavy around her and leaned back against the railing so he could try and catch her eye. "What is wrong?"

"Nothing." She lied, with a false smile that didn't even try to reach her eyes.

He took her hand, still pressed to her lips in a fist, and pressed it between the two of his. "Your hands are stiff with cold. Where is your cloak?"

Her cloak? Left behind on the hook by the door of her study. Naturally.

"Come." He continued when she didn't say anything in response. "Come to bed."

"I just…a minute." Her breath came out in a cloud but something about the bite of the air felt…real. There was depth to it, in a way that most things hadn't been lately.

He pressed her hand to his lips and gently blew his hot breath onto her fingers. It was as if the warmth made the sharp reality of the cold dim again and she drew her hand away, almost confused at how complicated such a simple thing was making her feel.

"Josephine," He whispered. "Won't you tell me what you feel?"

There wasn't really a simple answer to that, not one that she understood or could even pretend to make sense of.

"Nothing." She took a deep breath, sucking the frigid air into her lungs until they burned. "And everything."

His hands brushed her face, her arms, her own hands. She forgot each touch as soon as it was gone, a memory that was as fleeting as a soft breeze on a windy day.

"Everything is too much, but none of it feels like anything."

He passed a hand over her brow, not unlike the day she'd met the Nazgul in Bree. "It will pass." But his promise seemed more filled with worry than it had in Bree.

In that moment even he seemed flat, and it killed her because she knew how deep her feelings were for him. It was like a pane of glass had been set between her and her very soul, seen but not felt. A taunt of the humanity she'd once had but couldn't reach. A pane that was only growing stronger no matter what she did. No passions, no joy, no lovers touch. Josephine wanted nothing more than to come home, to be there completely.

Feeling lost, she pulled at his collar and brought him down to her, kissing him hard as her eyes slipped shut and a tear rolled down her cheek. A moment of something, anything. A drop of water to her drowning self.

He knew what she was thinking, as she pulled him closer to her by the belt. "We don't have to-"

"Please." She begged. "Find me."

One sturdy arm pressed her against him and he kissed her back. She practically clawed at him, clutching any loose part of his tunic she could get her fingers onto. She needed him around her, over her, part of her.

She slipped her hand down past his belt and her knees turned weak as he kissed her neck with a breathy moan.

His hands brushed her skin so softly she could barely feel it, so often those gentle touches could set her on fire but she needed more. Pulling his face back to hers, she nipped at his lower lip. "I won't break." Every touch since she'd come home was careful, calculated, and controlled. "You're not going to hurt me." Even laying together he'd held back, and she couldn't bear it anymore.

He paused, a hint of fear and pain in his own eyes that said more than enough. "Are you certain you are ready?"

Josephine tugged at the clasps on his tunic until she could slip her hand under the collar and wind her arm around his shoulder, feel the heat of him under her fingers. "Aragorn, please." She said weakly. Her body molded into him, aching for him, glimpsing perhaps even a corner of her soul that seemed so far away.

Something in him shifted and she could taste it in his kiss, as if he too had hidden a piece of himself away that was finally seeing light.

"As my queen commands."

They stumbled back into their chambers, lips barely parting as clothes fell to the floor in a path to their bed. Every breath, every second they moved as one, every cry that left her of its own accord was like a small bit of her was escaping even if it was only temporary.

She went slack against the sheets with tears rolling back into the pillows as she begged him not to stop, breathlessly assuring him to keep going until he was also spent.

He sank beside her, still one as he pulled the blankets around them against the chill. "Meleth nin…" His thumb brushed at her cheeks.

"Shh. Sidh, Aragorn." She said with another kiss.

She knew the moment was fleeting, already part of her could feel the coming numbness. But for a time, they'd been themselves again. For a time, she'd remembered herself.

Chapter Text

It was warm, for a winter's day at least. With the warmth of the sun over them, Aragorn was happy enough with the day, and Josephine seemed to be too.

Surrounded on a swath of furs by swaying grasses, he looked over the hills and breathed deep. In the distance, mere specks against the horizon, rangers protected their rest, but left them with as much privacy as could be had. Just a day out of the city, the peace of the wilds. It would do them both well.

He smiled softly as he heard her behind him, humming to herself as she lay facing the sky and picking at a plucked strand of grass.

"Lavenders blue dilly dilly…"

It was perfect. Nearly. If not for the ever present shadow waiting in the eves of their life. She was changed, so changed. And while she was still his, his dear Josephine, something in her had cracked and shaken her soul. He yearned for a quick solution, or a salve with which to heal her, but it was not so. He hated how he could hold her in his arms yet still miss her so fiercely.

She tried, oh how greatly she tried to come back to him, he could see it in every moment. But the shadow was strong, and in the dark watches of the night, sometimes he feared it would be too strong.

Time. He reminded himself. It was all either of them could place their hopes in. And so, patience he would bear for the both of them.

Her humming stopped and words ceased except his name, which she said hesitantly.

He turned to find her sitting up, hands fussing with each other in her lap. She had something to say, but whatever it was seemed to have stuck itself in her throat.

She thumbed away a tear and looked down at her knees. "I think something's wrong with me." She choked.

"Meleth-"

"No, there is." She snapped. "I shouldn't be like this."

He knelt down next to her and pressed his palm to her cold cheek. But while her eyes showed an emptiness her body was tense and she pulled away, pushing to her feet. In the freedom of the wilds, the privacy of the grasses, something was clawing its way out of her and he could do naught but watch as she paced.

"It's…It's trauma or…PTSD or something!" She groaned and pulled her hands through her hair.

He didn't know what PTSD was, but she wasn't going to give him time to ask either.

"But I have trauma from the war and it wasn't like this!" Her frustration was palpable. "Everything is WRONG. I'M wrong." She jabbed her fingers into her chest. "They sent me back but I'm still there!" She pointed north. "I can't get back from that! That stupid fucking cave in that stupid fucking mountain still has me tied up for some long dead goblin king's amusement and it won't let me go!"

Her face, wet with tears, shook in defeat. "It's like they really did kill a part of me in that cave."

"A part, you may say." He said finally, with his chest aching at the sight of her. "But not all."

"Maybe." she conceded. "But whatever's left is still there, screaming, and I can't make it stop."

>>><<<

She thought she'd laid herself bare to him already, in the late watches and when she cried hot tears into his tunic. But she hadn't, not really. Whatever she'd been doing wasn't working and the turmoil inside of her now proved it. "I don't know what to do."

But in her unknown, Aragorn's eyes said differently. There was a fire in them, and he surprised her when he took her by the sleeves of her tunic, as if to imbue her with his strength. "You fight." He said firmly.

Fight? As if she hadn't been all this time? But that didn't seem to be what he was thinking, his body spoke of battle.

"It's not working." She argued.

He stepped back, bringing his hand to the hilt of his sword. "Draw your sword."

She sighed. "What are you talking about?"

He pulled his out of its sheath and motioned to hers.

"Aragorn, I'm not going to fight you, this is ridiculous."

"Resting now does you little good, so we must change our approach. Draw your sword."

Was he serious? A sword fight wouldn't make a difference to any of this except to tire them both out beyond the point of any late night shenanigans, one of the few reliefs she could find anymore.

"For fucks sake, I'm having a moment here darling." But she knew well enough to know he wasn't going to just let it go, so she drew her sword hilt of the sword Thorin had gifted her was still new in her hand, having only seen Erebor's fight in its time with her.

But Aragorn wasted no time and brought her into action, holding back enough to cause no harm, but he was not going to let her off easily either. Their blades clashed and sang together in their clearing. They danced on and on, until sweat began to cool against her skin.

"Are you going to be done soon?" She panted.

Josephine could tell she was out of shape, but there was a glimmer of hope in how it felt much less like the days in Laketown. Progress, maybe. But he didn't relent. He was constant, even, and remarkably calm.

His insistence made her angry and drove her to press herself further, building frustration in her chest until she got too close and found her sword caught and her arms pressed hard against his chest.

One word and she knew he'd let her go, if she truly called it quits he would end it, but she'd placated him and now she was trapped. She didn't want to stop, to end their battle with a word, a surrender.

She tried to jerk free, twisted and pulled but still he had her. Urgency began to shake in her chest as she strained and they stared at each other, waiting for the other to blink.

But now she was angry, though it didn't seem like it was truly for him. Maybe he'd loosened his hold, or maybe that last pull had been stronger than her others, but she came free and dropped her sword at her feet as she bent over her knees. Something was wrong with her, so very wrong.

"That's enough!" She bit into him, her chest twisting into a vice, full of a pressure she couldn't name, but which screamed at her to flee.

It was a command that she had no choice but to answer, plowing through the low grass as fast as her feet would carry her. If Aragorn followed, she didn't know, and couldn't think straight enough to look. All there was, was the fear. Visceral, encompassing, driving her blindly as if a Nazgul itself was dogging her.

She ran until her knees buckled and she rested her forehead into the ground. The fear stayed, now escaping in the only way left. It poured out of her lungs, raw and pained, the cry echoing over the hills. Their rangers guards would come, and fucking let them. She couldn't possibly find the strength to bury whatever this was.

>>><<<

Aragorn did follow her, how could he not? He was with her, step in step, until she collapsed to the ground. The scream that tore from her folded form gutted him and he felt as if his own heart might break for her pain.

It cut into the quiet rustle of the plains, drawing on until every bit of air had left her lungs, and the inhale that followed turned into a shaking sob that engulfed her. Like an animal, just barely free from a wolf's maw. No thought, no rationalizing.

He kneeled beside her again, hesitant to touch her in fear that it would only make things worse. But that left her curled into the grass, sobbing into the earth, alone. And alone she was not. So he moved slowly, first a touch of her shoulder, then her back when she paid it no mind.

"Josephine?"

She was stuck, didn't give even a flinch at his touch, and showed no sign of it lessening.

He wrapped an arm around her chest and pulled her back into his lap, limp as death itself. Her head pressed into the crook of his elbow as it consumed her. There was no stopping this, they could only endure it.

This was not what he'd hoped for her, but perhaps what was necessary. The sun crept through the sky above them though it seemed to him that time stood still. Eventually her tears were spent too, and soon after, her hand balled up in his sleeve and pressed to her lips. Sharp breaths became longer and with that her body began to still in his arms.

Aragorn dared not move, he barely dared to breathe. The sun moved further, stepping into the afternoon. She was so still he thought she might have succumbed to sleep and after such a fit he dared say she'd earned that peace. So still, he would not move.

And he didn't, for however long it took, until he heard her speak.

"I have to go back to Erebor."

The place that had nearly taken her, but to which he too, knew she had to go.

"Then we will go, with all haste."

Chapter Text

If Josephine had her way, they would've left within the week, but she didn't have the luxury of picking up and going without extensive planning anymore. It would've been one thing if it had just been her, but with Aragorn going too, her pilgrimage to Erebor was unavoidably an official visit. Though she had to admit, there was an appeal to entering the mountain that had caused so much grief, under her own banner.

Aragorn had informed Boromir who then made sure preparations began. There were lists to be made, paths to map, people to gather. Soldiers and rangers and even Ciril were conscripted, though she had a feeling Ciril would've come along whether she'd been asked or not. And then of course Legolas and Gimli, as if it wasn't obvious.

Boromir read to them off of a sheet of parchment as they gathered around the fire in Aragorn's study, listing each of the men by name that he'd picked for the journey.

"Halbarad, goes without saying." He continued. "And I will ensure Faramir is prepared in my absence."

Aragorn had been listening passively and multitasking at his desk until then and looked up. "If Josephine and I are gone, the city will need their steward."

Josephine smirked and reclined back in her chair, eyes flicking between the two. Generally she was the one coming up against Boromir, she was enjoying being on the sidelines for this one.

"My lord, Faramir, is more than capable of doing so in my stead."

"Of that I have no doubts. However, given the recent uncertainties the people will do well to be without as few of us as possible."

"The people will understand, and they greatly trust Faramir."

Aragorn looked from Boromir and caught her eye, silently asking for her opinion, and if not that, backup. She agreed with Aragorn's opinion, she wanted as much stability for Minas Tirith as possible, but would Boromir going with them offer any less comfort than him staying? Or maybe she was just looking for a reason to have him come for her own comfort instead.

"It may give the people comfort to know we've brought the counsel of our steward. Faramir is practically our second steward as it is."

Aragorn didn't have to emote much for her to key in to his realizing he was fighting a losing battle. He could put his foot down, that was the prerogative of being king after all, but it would have to be dire for him to go against both her and his steward. Boromir however, took his silent pondering to be a need to explain further.

"If I may speak, not as your steward?"

Josephine watched the two, seeing surrender in Aragorn's eyes already as he nodded to Boromir to continue.

"She has only just returned, must you ask me to stay behind?"

A tiny quirk of his lips and a short nod of his chin hid his amusement at Boromir's shift to being indignant. He was a man of Gondor, loyal to his king, but there was no washing away the brotherhood from the War. Josephine treasured that about him. For all the times his opinionated arguments came up against them, anything less would leave them both lacking in his friendship and counsel.

"You say that like you haven't already won." She told him.

Boromir looked at her, then back at Aragorn, and finally picked up the warmth in Aragorn's expression. "You could have just said so."

"If you feel so strongly that you must come, then I will no more stop you than I would Halbarad." Aragorn told him.

A heavy knock banged against the doors and Gimli's tough voice broke past the wood. "Aragorn! The lass in there with ye?"

The second Aragorn affirmed his suspicions Gimli burst through the doors, followed closely by Legolas who held a bundle in his arms. "The lad needed to see ye." He cocked his head. "He's got that sheepish look about him again."

"Apologetic." Legolas corrected, unwrapping the bundle and holding it out to her. "I took that which was not mine, though in my defense she was a prisoner at the time."

Josephine stood with a smirk and let him lay the sword and scabbard in her hands. "You know, it would've been a lot easier to kill Azog if I'd had this."

She wrapped her hand around the hilt, the comfort of a weapon that fit so well it could've been made for her. It slid from the sheath as smoothly as it ever had, as if she'd set it aside yesterday and not eighty years ago. Elven magic, there was nothing like it. "Is your father at least a little apologetic about everything?"

Legolas blinked and dropped his chin. "Apologetic may be generous. But I think hindsight has offered some respect on the matter of your involvement. The people of Dale and Erebor were indeed strong when the darkness came."

There it was, that was the person she'd most enjoy the diplomatic formalities with. Erebor and Dale were friends, she had no doubt of that, but Thranduil…now that would be an interesting reunion.

"At least this time I won't have to argue with him about the future." She returned the sword to its sheath. "Or anybody."

Legolas smirked as she gave him a pointed look and he glanced over her shoulder to Aragorn. "Did she tell you she held your knife to my throat?"

"And that you had earned it." He replied.

>>><<<

They weren't leaving for another fortnight but Ciril had started packing over a week before when she'd first been told of the journey. Not for her, no of course not. Josephine was also suspicious of the number of things being packed that she'd never seen before let alone worn. Clearly Ciril had plenty in mind for their time in Erebor that she felt was below Josephine's need to know. Eowyn looked through her wardrobe under the pretext of helping, but she and Josephine both were under no illusions that they were actually needed. Ciril had her plan, and they were both more in the way than anything.

Josephine looked through her bureau drawers, feeling Gilraen's presence as each stitch of embroidery passed under her fingers. This was the job Ciril had trusted her with, one that would keep her occupied and useful but out of the way. She selected handkerchiefs and shifts, being reminded now and then that she'd need more than one of each and had room aplenty for whatever she wanted. Whole wagons instead of packs were at their disposal, it was like her honeymoon all over again.

The drawer beneath the handkerchiefs and shifts was untouched but still full, more of Gilraen's foresight. Small dresses and tunics, all of elven cloth. Blankets and cloths trimmed with the winds of sea birds and star crowned trees. Maybe, after Erebor, her body would find itself again and they'd become needed. A small boy, perhaps, the image of Aragorn as a child in Rivendell. A girl with her nose and his eyes.

Picking through it she found one of three swaddling cloths, pale blue and white. She was excited and almost relieved to be going back to Erebor, but that didn't mean she wasn't feeling guilty for leaving just as quickly as she'd come home. To give closure to her journey and respect to her friendships in the north, she had to ask for grace from her friendships in Gondor.

Turning to Eowyn she pressed the cloth into her hands. "You should have this."

Her eyes widened and she looked confused. "But this was made for you. For your own child."

"Yours is coming first, and I'll probably be in Erebor or travelling when it happens. Consider this my apology." She pressed it further in Eowyn's hands. "Please?"

Eowyn hadn't even let her consider postponing until the birth. She'd been lost once after battle too, she understood the need Josephine felt. The seasons were nearly perfect to get them there by spring, if they waited winter would get in their way. But Josephine felt guilty still, and disappointed she wouldn't be there.

Eowyn brought the bundle to her chest and hugged Josephine warmly. "I will treasure it."

Ciril bustled through the open doors of the bedchamber, a twine wrapped package under her arm that went straight to the chest she was packing.

"Are we taking anything of mine?" Josephine joked.

"Pay it no mind, majesty. Best to have it if the need arises."

"It?"

"The dwarves of Erebor are bound in riches, it won't do to underwhelm them."

Eowyn smirked and leaned in the mutter to Josephine. "Shall we remind her you had no gowns or jewels to impress them before?"

Ciril heard everything. "All the more need to now."

"As long as one of them is light enough that I can dance on the tables with Bofur." Josephine reminded her, only partly in jest.

The look on Ciril's face was worth it, no longer horror, but definitely a quiet disappointment. Try as she could to keep Josephine's appearances up, there were parts that Josephine wasn't going to let go of. "Tables." She tutted. "Meant to be sat at, not stomped on."

"In Erebor it'll go over wonderfully, I promise." Josephine assured her. "If I don't they'll think I'm stuffy and boring."

A deep sigh and Ciril turned away to continue packing. "As your majesty commands. I will be sure to pack one dress that may suit such things."

Chapter Text

Josephine met Elrond in the gardens just as the scent of false spring was waking up from the soil. She herself missed nature behind the walls of the city, she could only imagine how he'd missed Rivendell during his long stay. But he didn't hint at it, maybe the longevity of the elves made that long stay seem short and easy.

Holding yet another bundle of parchment, she was starkly aware of how much she owed to him. Even if it hadn't been necessary in the end, for him to bring Aragorn her goodbyes, his promise to do it had offered her comfort. At least this time, her letter was a proper hello. She now knew Bilbo as well as he did her, for the first time they were on the same ground.

Elrond didn't seem surprised when he saw the oilskin and held his hand out for it graciously. "Mr. Baggins will be overjoyed to hear from you."

"I'll come to Rivendell before he sails, just send word." There were only a few years left before that happened. They wouldn't make it over the mountains from Erebor, but she would set out north to Rivendell the moment that missive came.

He looked down at her suspiciously. "I thought your knowledge was now spent? We had not yet told him he would be granted the honor."

"I've got to keep a few tricks up my sleeve still." She joked. "He's not the only reason I'm going to see you to the Havens." Too many friends were leaving that day, most of the time she tried not to think about it. But plans had to be set in motion.

He smiled warmly. "Indeed." Slowly they began to wander in the warming sunlight. "I now feel confident in saying that I hold no further knowledge of your coming days."

Josephine smiled in relief. "That's good to hear. I'd like to officially hang up my armor now."

"Aragorn will do all in his power to see to that if you allow him." He took a deep breath, almost like he was deciding whether or not to bring something up. "I wish to offer my thanks. Your words of Estel brought great comfort. Both to myself, and to his mother."

Tears came to her eyes as soon as he mentioned Gilraen and she swallowed hard and kept her eyes on the path ahead of them. "She returned that favor tenfold. So did you as a matter of fact." Gilraen gave her a mother's comfort in that short time and it had helped carry her through all the way to the gates of the city. With a sniff she straightened, trying to change to subject to something that wouldn't make her cry. "Faramir will make sure you have everything you need for your trip back, and Meduseld will be expecting you, I sent word you'd be passing."

"I will give the king your regards when I see him, and those of his sister."

"I don't mean to make you into my messenger all the time, I'm sorry." She laughed.

"Then you may consider it my thanks for your sacrifices and counsel. Now, I am certain you have much to do, I will take no more of your time."

She looked up at him fondly, with the perspective of how much she owed to him over both journeys. He'd been integral to both, if not for him and Gandalf trusting her and following through on her requests, she wondered if she would have ever found the courage to join the fellowship. Giving in to her impulse she hugged him, which he didn't seem too surprised over.

"Thank you for coming." She said as she pulled away.

"You are most welcome, Lady Josephine."

>>><<<

The hall was loud with conversation and cup bearers crisscrossed the room with wine laden pitchers. Josephine accepted another helping of venison and held back from digging into the well seasoned meat with the fervor she wanted to. It was like she was still making up for all the missed meals during the journey, which she supposed shouldn't have surprised her. She was only just now feeling like her gowns fit her properly again instead of hanging off of her frame.

Beside her Aragorn looked happy, watching the ease that everyone laughed and danced with. It was different from the coronation feast, or that of their wedding. It was more familiar, laced with less grief and nervous hope even if it was to harken their departure.

Food was plentiful after the harvest, game was back in Ithilien with a vengeance, and the reserves of wine and mead had grown heavy. Their people were safe, and supported even in their absence. It would do well when Aragorn would want to rebuild the northern kingdom one day and they would be gone far more than a few months. But that was many years in their future, for now she'd be grateful for their journey to Erebor.

She was holding on to some guilt for wanting to go, seeing all of the work and all of the people who were having to make it happen. But this wasn't just for her, they could take advantage of the trip, meet with the lords of Dale and King Thranduil and strengthen their diplomatic ties. It wasn't just for her benefit anymore, or at least that's what she told herself so she felt less bothersome.

Sometimes it was hard for her to find that place inside herself where she'd fallen in the grasses that day and she'd decided she had to go. The rawness of it had overwhelmed her and looking back at it was frightening. In the midst of it she'd been so sure she couldn't move forward without that closure, but now out of it she had space to doubt herself. Aragorn never once faltered on their plans and no one questioned it either, except for her. Silently.

She could question her need to see the company again, but not the feeling that departing the city the next morning was the right one. Something had to change in her, steps had to be taken even if it was just the journey itself. Damp air, heavy with the smells of soil and pine, holding her feet to the ground and drawing whatever this was from her like a salve.

Or maybe it was just another fool's hope of a remedy to something that could only heal with time. But didn't she at least have to try?

Venison gone, she reached over and took Aragorn's hand, drawing it up to her lips and placing a kiss on his knuckles. "Thank you for doing this."

Leaving his hand wrapped by her fingers on the arm of her chair he leaned over so they could converse over the sound of the music playing. "For doing what?"

"Taking me back there."

"I would take you wherever you desire, wherever you need." He kissed her gently and squeezed her hand.

>>><<<

At dawn their procession began its long trip from the sixth level. Legolas, Gimli, Halbarad, Boromir, and of course, Gandalf who scoffed at the mere thought of not being there to tell Thorin he told him so. Soldiers took up the front and back, and not only had Ciril seen fit to bring herself, but had brought another young woman to assist her. There were rangers, and footmen, hell they even had a farrier with them given the number of horses they were bringing. There was a reason it had taken nearly a month to prepare for the journey.

They were sent off with warm smiles and sprigs of dried flowers in their path. It wasn't somber or fearful this time, not like the Last March or their trip to take Theoden's body back to Rohan. There was a normalcy for them in this, a diplomatic journey, but nothing to mourn.

It was slow going with wagons and packhorses on the stone decline of the roads, but over an hour later they passed through the new gates of the city and out onto the fields.

In Osgiliath they boarded three ships and began sailing north up the Anduin, planning to take it as far as the falls of Rauros before setting out towards the East, around Mirkwood and then north along its edge for Erebor.

Aragorn knew the path well, and no one entertained the thought of keeping to the west of the forest and taking the path through. Josephine didn't care if the darkness of Sauron had left the woods by now, she didn't trust them and wouldn't take them without a full escort of Legolas' people. Maybe not even then.

But first she had to make it through their journey by boat, and she still hadn't quite gotten her sea legs yet.

Chapter Text

Their journey on the Anduin passed quickly, despite going against the current. Soon they were camped on the eastern shore as the ships were unloaded, wagons were packed and repacked, horses were penned, and tents began to rise between the thick trees and the riverbank.

The rush of the falls could be heard in the distance over the hustle and bustle of activity and Josephine watched from further up the shore and hid a frown with a blank expression instead.

"My lady?" Halbarad said behind her. "Is something wrong with the camp?"

She shifted uncomfortably and finally turned away to talk to him. "It's too much, and it's all because I'm here."

He looked confused, practically baffled. "It is no more than would be expected…"

"It's taking two days just to unload the ships. Two days! Because I have trunks of…of clothes and crap and have to bring half a battalion because we're egregiously obvious to anyone with bad intentions."

He opened his mouth with a silent "Ah." and nodded. "A far cry from a single pack and your own two feet."

"Embarrassingly decadent." She agreed. The whole thing had her on edge, as if she'd dictated the size of the party herself. "Unnecessarily complicated."

"Oh yes, of course." He said in a clearly mocking understanding. "The king and queen of Gondor and the Northern Kingdoms should arrive threadbare and after ambushed by brigands on the road and robbed."

Unable to hold back she rolled her eyes at him and the slight smirk on his face. "That only happened once, and Dwalin and I took care of it."

"Oh well in that case, I'll tell them all to go home then. May as well run off myself since you've got it handled."

"You're not going to make me feel less guilty about the fuss."

"You doubt my abilities? After all this time?" He smiled and sobered. "Feel guilty if you must, but remember that this is not unusual. It is an honorable charge, and none have come against their will."

Josephine sighed and nodded with surrender. "I know. I think I'm just…anxious."

Boromir interrupted, jogging up with a grin on his face. "Perhaps a short adventure will brighten your foul mood?"

"I'm not in a foul mood, I'm just…" His face poked holes in her argument and she backtracked. "An adventure?"

"Some of the men have broached the idea of visiting the Argonath before we turn east. For many it will be their only opportunity to see it. Aragorn has agreed to take an extra day to allow for it."

Josephine wasn't trying to rush necessarily, but the ache in her chest to get to Erebor was difficult to ignore. Then again she'd already gotten to see the Argonath, and she wouldn't keep that from anyone in the party. "It would be a waste not to. When do we leave?"

Boromir seemed completely unsurprised by her decision to go and looked a little smug about it. "First light. A company will take the boats up and camp by the lake tonight and we will meet them."

The Argonath with no impending doom, it was almost poetic to return now that Sauron and the Ring were gone. The thought of scrambling through overgrowth up to the lakeside made her excited and would give her a chance to burn off some of her nervous energy.

Once the day's work of unloading was finally done and the men were seated around fires with fresh stew and soft bread, the rest of them had their own evening meal and turned in.

It seemed like an unnecessary luxury to travel so heavy, but she couldn't lie and say she wasn't a fan of falling asleep in a real bed with Aragorn next to her until the first hints of dawn woke them.

The morning meal was rushed and small, with fare packed away for later. The company was nearly twenty when they left, with fifteen more men up at the camp with the boats. Ciril waited behind saying her knees couldn't make the journey and Gandalf simply gave a deep harumph and chewed on the stem of his pipe by the fire.

It took until late morning to reach the lake and the water was shining under the sun when she reached the top and took a deep breath. The western shore looked unchanged from the last time they were there. The stones still sat broken in the water, and at some point the elven boat had drifted loose off the rocks and fallen off of the Rauros. Frodo and Sam's boat was far up on the shore and covered by branches on the edge of camp where they'd hidden it.

"It's so weird to be back here." She said to Aragorn as he stood just behind her and watched Legolas and Gimli go by with Boromir right behind them. "Seems like another lifetime."

He wrapped his arm around her middle and pulled her back against him. "And I loved you, even then."

Josephine melted back against him contently. "I always thought this was one of the most beautiful lakes I'd ever seen. And then when we came here I was too distracted by what was about to happen to really notice it."

He didn't respond except to hold her tighter as the men started climbing into the boats.

The Gondorian boats were more than twice the size of the Lorien ones and held six or more men when necessary. Large enough that she and Aragorn were able to sit side by side, rowing with Halbarad and three other rangers towards the mouth of the river. It wasn't long by boat, not as long as it would've been to walk it. The two monoliths rose at their sides as they passed through into the river and once they were a good distance up, they finally turned around and fought the current so they could take it in.

>>><<<

Aragorn was heartened by their journey, and the trip north to the lake once more. To see it again under nothing but good, was a comfort. He had seen Josephine's love for the places she'd once thought only story, it had happened here and there throughout the quest, but that had all been laced with fears. Here, she looked up at the gateway to their realm with an awe that brought tears to her eyes and nearly to his own. Her love for Middle-Earth had started so long ago and ran deeper than the waters beneath them.

He wished the waters would still and keep them there until they were ready to leave, but there was no stopping the current and eventually it carried their boats back to the lapping waters of the lake.

They landed on the western shore, by the same stones that had met them three years before, and ate their rations under the sun.

With a light in her eyes, she got up and brushed off her tunic. "Come on, I'm not going to come here twice and never see Amon Hen." She nudged Boromir with her elbow as he stood to join them and grinned. "I promise, you're not supposed to die this time either."

"So you say, little sister." He joked.

They passed through the glade, now grown over with only a few pale orc bones visible through the undergrowth. The animals in the forest and the heavy winters had done their job and soon, not even those would be found without digging. The land was healing, burying the darkness that had nearly taken it.

Hand in hand they crested the hill and he noticed her pause and look to the north. To where he faced the Uruk-Hai while Frodo fled. Where he denied the Ring and the weakness of his blood.

She looked up at him and seemed to know what he was thinking because she popped up on her toes and kissed him. "I told you, same evil. Defeated."

Like he had at Cerin Amroth he took her hand and led her up to the top, the Seat of Seeing where they could see down into the valley, with the white mountains off in the distance. She was alight again, in the wilds. Any doubts he'd had of the trip helping her find herself again were passing. Aragorn knew them going to Erebor was the right decision.

They returned to their river camp by the ships at dusk and went to their tent to change before dinner. She shed her tunic and wrapped herself in her robe as he pulled a fresh shirt over his head.

"It took three months and I feel like I'm out of shape." She sighed, flopping onto her bed with her legs hanging off the side. "Ridiculous."

"Your strength is still returning," He reminded her. "It was no small thing to return from."

He finished dressing and turned back to their bed, finding her eyes shut and her face pressed against the pillows. The journey had made her more weary than she'd let on until then, though he supposed he wasn't surprised.

Moving quietly he brought her legs up onto the bed and pulled the blankets around her. Ciril, coming to help her change, was met with his finger to his lips and a motion for her to leave with him and let her sleep.

Outside and out of earshot Ciril finally spoke. "She needs supper, my lord."

"I will bring her something when I retire. You may be dismissed for the evening, you too deserve rest." She'd worked all day, he was sure of it, and a night by the fire with others would do her good.

He ate with the others then retired early himself with a small plate of bread and cheese and a soft hand on her shoulder to wake her. Confused at her impromptu nap, she ate quickly and changed from her robe to the clean shift he handed her. They fell into bed quickly, finding comfort in each other before pulling the blankets over their shoulders and falling asleep.

Chapter Text

The light mood they'd found by the Anduin turned stale as they cut north east between Emyn Muil and the Dead Marshes. The land was dry and craggy to their left and hazy to their right. Scouts had to be sent ahead to check their path and ensure they wouldn't walk into a mire. Everyone seemed to be a little uneasy until they passed the marshes. They were a dark place, even without Sauron's presence to the south, and they could all feel it. At the slow pace of their company, it took them three days.

But then they came out into the Wilderland and it opened up into a soft, hilly plain patched with trees and forests, their road for the next few weeks as they turned north.

With so many people traveling, it necessitated a slower pace that left time in the evenings to rest while the sun was still low in the sky.

Boromir grinned several feet from her, knees loose and ready with his sword in his hand. "You have improved, little sister."

She twirled her sword like a taunt and grinned back. "Had to." She struck, he parried, and she dodged. She rolled over her shoulder experimentally, kicking up dust in the dirt patch they'd found to practice in. She popped up to his left and almost caught his knee before he blocked her and they kept on. The roll had been so smooth she almost forgot to check in with herself afterwards, finding it hadn't hurt in the slightest.

Spurred by her tested flexibility she picked up her pace, becoming bolder in her attacks. This of course, only goaded Boromir to do the same and she started to sweat.

"Were you holding out on me this whole time?" She panted.

He chuckled. "I thought it best to first build your confidence. Am I not still commanded to train you as my own men?"

She stepped back a couple feet as he came at her with more fervor, feeling strong again and rising to his challenge. She gained those feet back and then some with several smooth blows. It was almost like old times, except now they were a little more closely matched. Evenly matched? Never. But it was closer than before.

"And don't you ever forget it." She agreed.

Flutes played from several of the campfires that were popping up around the camp and the bustle of cooking and the huffs of horses filled the air around them.

He was gaining on her, closing the space between them until she only had a few ways out. With a quick snap she got his blade out of her way and spun around him, backing up several more feet to get space again.

The fight was finally getting the best of her and she raised her hand to call a pause as she bent over her knees to catch her breath.

He kept his distance with a knowing smirk. "Oh no, I'm not falling for this again. I'll stay well out of your range."

"Just gimme a minute." She laughed distractedly. The spin threw her off, something she was apparently not fully ready for yet. Her head clearing she straightened again and took a deep breath. "I'm not always trying for the upper hand you know."

"I don't condemn it, except when I'm the one of falling on my arse."

Josephine pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes for a second, feeling her balance off again as she did. When she opened her eyes he'd lost his grin and took a step towards her.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah." She said quickly. "Think I overdid it." It would pass, she knew it would, she just needed a second.

"Halbarad!" He called over to the ranger who'd taken the opportunity of their training to rest beneath an ancient oak tree several yards away. "Would you fetch a waterskin?"

Josephine felt the world tilt a little as she turned her head and Boromir had her by the arms as it settled again.

"Dizzy." She mumbled, trying to hold as still as possible so it would pass. She'd stayed hydrated today, it couldn't be that. Was she really still suffering the toll of the journey? Either way, she couldn't pass out here, not in front of a dozen soldiers and whoever else was nearby. As soon as one knew, the whole camp would know and before she knew what hit her they'd be thinking she was on death's door from the strain of travel. "I'll be fine, just help me back to the tent. I'll pretend I wrenched my ankle or something."

He stepped away long enough to sheath his sword and help her with hers and that was enough time for her to start wavering again.

>>><<<

Aragorn had been checking on Roheryn and Galador when a commotion came over the camp like a wave, closely followed by several voices calling for him. Hand on the hilt of his sword he took off at a run, pushing past others heading towards an old oak on the other side of camp. A soldier called for a growing crowd to make way and for a second, he could have been standing back at Morannon once again.

His heart dropped as Boromir bent over Josephine's prone form. "Boromir-" He fell to his knees beside her and pressed his palm to her forehead.

"She was fine and then she fell ill- dizzy she said." Boromir answered worriedly. "She was fine, Aragorn."

Josephine had gone pale, colorless against his hand as he said her name. It was only a few moments before she began to come to and he was able to take a breath. Too much physical strain, she likely pushed herself too hard too quickly. That was what he had to believe or he would begin to worry too deeply.

"The fuck-" She muttered. "Did I pass out?"

Boromir gave a nervous chuckle of relief. "And frightened me so badly I nearly joined you."

Halbarad came up and handed him a waterskin, then took Aragorn's silent nod towards the crowd and left to clear them out.

"Alright, her majesty will be fine. Not enough water was all. Back to your duties."

"In front of the men?" She groaned weakly.

Humor, always a relief to him in such times when she was able to give it. "Do not trouble yourself with the men, Halbarad will see to them. Come." He pulled her arm around his neck and picked her up.

"We've gotta stop meeting like this.."

She was better with each moment and the hurry in his steps became more and more about getting her away from the eyes of the camp and less about seeing to how she was faring. He could tell it had been brief, and given their short time in the city before she was once again traveling he was not fully surprised that she may have taken things too far. It was Josephine, after all. She was as stubborn as she was determined.

Their guards held back the tend flaps as he and Boromir went inside and Ciril came up behind them before the flaps had a chance to be closed.

Aragorn laid her down on their bed and immediately had to place his hand on her shoulder as she went to sit up. "Rest a moment longer."

"I feel fine." She argued. "I'm fine."

Her frustrations were palpable and he dared say her embarrassment over the camp seeing was helping the blood return to her face.

She pushed his hand away and forced herself up, glaring at the three as they waited to see if she would pale again. She didn't, and for that he was grateful.

He opened his mouth to ask her what had happened when Ciril cleared her throat. Aragorn was not one to ignore Ciril's input and shut his mouth as he looked over at her.

"My lords, a moment with her majesty if you please."

Not a question, but an order. One he could overrule but didn't dare. He looked to Ciril, then to Josephine whose face was tightened into a self conscious frown. "Boromir, we shall let the others know she is well. Ciril, if she-"

"I will send you for, majesty." She nodded towards the door, another order.

Aragorn bent down and placed a kiss on Josephine's forehead, then turned to leave with Boromir behind him.

>>><<<

Josephine watched them leave, eyeing Ciril suspiciously. "I'm fine." She said firmly, not sure why she'd just banished the king and his steward.

But Ciril was…dare she say, happy?

"Yes, you are quite well, majesty." She let out a short hum of confirmation and helped her to her feet.

"I've never seen you look so much like the cat that caught the canary, what are you up to?" She narrowed her eyes. "Aragorn can't propose marriage to me twice, so out with it."

Ciril just grinned, and for some reason that made Josephine more nervous than if she'd been worried. "I had my suspicions but now-"

"You're freaking me out, what is going on?!"

Ciril didn't mince words…usually.

"My lady," She said, taking her hands. "I've watched the signs, you are with child!"

Josephine froze. Then brushed it off. "Ciril, I can't be, I haven't bled since Rivendell. We've talked about this."

"And why have you not bled, if your strength has returned?"

"Stress." She didn't want to get excited, not when there was no reason to think this was anything other than dehydration and Ciril's own wishful thinking. "I've been under a lot of it."

Ciril looked at her like she was being foolish and relented to having to explain. "Your back has pained you for days and your tunics have become tight across the you had not noticed, I've had to let them out in the past week."

She hadn't, but Ciril was always making adjustments to her clothing as she mended things. "Long days of riding and I've been putting weight back on after the journey."

"Majesty, do you think I do not know the body I have been dressing since before your marriage? Or one that carries a child? At my age? The changes are clear."

Josephine looked off to a corner of the tent to think over what Ciril was saying. Could she…well, it wasn't like they'd been particularly careful lately. But her cycle hadn't started back again…then again it hadn't taken this long after the war and she'd been badly injured to boot. But surely the physical strain of her injuries from this trip were worse than…almost dying of blood loss at the Black Gates… "Holy shit."

Chapter Text

Josephine felt herself getting hot and sank back down onto the bed. "Holy shit." She repeated. "Now?" Deep breath. "Here?" Halfway to Erebor and at least two and a half months from being home again? So soon after…everything?

Ciril took her liberties and sat down with Josephine, wrapping her up in her arms and tucking her head against her shoulder. "Shhh. There is no cause to worry."

No cause to worry? How about every cause to worry! Josephine wanted her mom, or Gilraen, or…she buried her face into the fabric of Ciril's dress as she started to cry. Was she sad? Scared? Ecstatic? Probably all three at the same time.

Ciril rocked and rubbed her arm, seeming to decide that mothering was just another thing she was needed for without question or comment. She let Josephine cry until the worst of it was over and then asked gently, "Shall I fetch the king?"

Josephine nodded and wiped at her face, hands going back to grip the wooden edge of the bed nervously.

He must not have been far because almost as soon as Ciril stepped out, he was bursting in.

"Josephine?" He dropped to his knees in front of her and touched her flushed cheeks.

She breathed shakily and a smile wiggled out as she made several false attempts to say something. She wasn't worried about his reaction, that was one certainty. He would have given her children the night they'd been married if she'd wanted.

"I'm sorry, I'm kind of freaking out." She rambled. That wasn't doing anything to quell his worry so she took his hands and kissed his knuckles, then took a deep breath. "You think you're ready to be a father?"

His worry shifted to confusion, and then another beat brought him to surprise. "Father…you are…"

"Ciril is positive. Won't be told otherwise." She chuckled, smiling through another barrage of tears.

He shot up and kissed her, lifting her off the bed and into the air. She could feel his joy as he held her close before setting her back on her feet. At least she wasn't the only one crying anymore.

"Meleth nin…" Followed by a kiss. He pressed his forehead against hers. "A child?" He spoke like he couldn't believe it.

Gathering himself after another few moments he cupped her cheek in his hand and hunched down so he could look her straight in the eye. "How are you, hiril nin?"

She gave a nervous laugh. "Terrified. Right now? Traveling?" Shaking her head she clarified. "Happy, but terrified." It wasn't the first time she was juggling both, the last had been the day she'd married him.

His hands ghosted down her arms and one came to rest on her stomach as he looked at her with all the quiet strength she realized she'd been starving for.

"A blessing from the Valar."

She laughed again. "They have a lot to make up for."

Snuggling into his arms she couldn't stop her mind from spinning. "I have to get better. The stress…it won't be good for the baby."

"Sidh, Josephine. You will be."

An hour later, the old Fellowship plus Halbarad were called into the tent. There was little to no hope of keeping things a secret for long, but at the very least their friends could find out first.

She tried not to look too deeply into Legolas' lack of surprise, some elvish sensibility probably already had him guessing it. Luckily Boromir's reaction helped move things along.

"I will inform the men to prepare for our return to Gondor."

"No, you won't." She said quickly. "We're halfway to Erebor and we're not turning back now. It's not like I'm dying."

Gandalf spoke up to agree with her. "All the more reason to continue on in fact, before there is a child to account for."

"See!" She said pointedly to Boromir. "The wizard agrees with me."

"If it eased your worry, Boromir," Aragorn said calmly. "I am certain Halbarad will have her well looked after when we are not near."

Josephine narrowed her eyes at both Boromir. "I swear, if you start hovering…" Josephine tensed and felt Aragorn's hand land lightly on her lower back. "Until I start waddling around with swollen ankles I'm not putting up with it, and probably not even then."

Boromir drew his hand over his face. "You collapsed not two hours ago, little sister."

"Let's look at the context here, brother."

Legolas chimed in. "I doubt she will push herself to train now that she knows."

"Thank you." She replied. At least Legolas was taking it well. "Can we just…be calm about this? It's still early, if I need anything I'll say something."

Gimli strode up and wrapped the both of them up in an awkward bear hug. "Ah! Good on ye both. Can't wait to meet the lad!"

Aragorn grunted and obliged Gimli's barrage of affections. "We will tell those in camp, but not send word beyond it. I'll not have a messenger intercepted. Boromir,"

Boromir dipped his chin. "I will see to it." Taking that as his request to leave he opened the tent flap and held it open for the others to follow him.

Once they were alone again, she took stock of the reception. "Boromir is going to be insufferable, isn't he?"

"He does it only out of care." Aragorn said sympathetically. "He only wishes you to be safe." He took her hands, a punctuation on the seriousness his tone dropped to. "Josephine, you must be gentle with yourself, I will beg it of you if I must. You have more than proven your strength, there is no need to do so further."

"I'm not trying to be some kind of badass, I'm just trying to stay sane and keep busy enough to do that." And maybe a little bit of pride was involved but she'd been damn near useless multiple times in the past year and it was getting to her.

He didn't believe her and his face said as much.

"Araogrn, I spent six months having to prove myself to a company of dwarves. I was walking around within forty-eight hours of Goblintown, I-"

"Should never have had to." He interrupted. "Had you been home-"

"What I mean is this is hardly as debilitating right now, nobody needs to be treating me like glass."

"You are not." He assured her. "But this does change things."

"I know that." She huffed. "But there's a line here. I'm not going to keep training or…start horse racing or something. But I don't need to be waited on hand and foot either." She was only just getting to the point of not feeling guilty for dragging all these people around with her, why make any of that anxiety worse with people walking on eggshells?

"All that is needed of you, is to carry our child. It is my duty to then care for you." He pulled her hands to his chest and looked down at her pleadingly. "I beg you grant me this."

She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against his chest with a sigh. "You can't give me that look, you know I can't say no when you do."

He chuckled and pulled her close. "Do you think I doubt your strength or your resolve?"

She had to admit, she didn't. "No."

"Then as before, what I do for you is not because you cannot, it is because you should not have to."

"Okay." She sighed in defeat. "If it will make you feel better, you can hover. A little."

"It will." He promised.

Over the next several days she noted a few differences. He now checked Galador's tack three times instead of two, and was never missing when she went to mount before they set off each morning. He was also starting to whisper things to the horse in Sindarin that she couldn't make out but assumed was some of his magical horse boy magic to make sure Galador was careful with her.

The third day after the news broke he and Boromir rode ahead and rejoined them several hours later as they were making camp. Aragorn hefted the limp body of a buck off the back of Roheryn and slung it over his shoulder. Passing to take it back to the cooks he grinned at her, looking quite pleased with himself.

Josephine smirked as he got out of earshot. "Next thing we know he'll have a pair of cargo shorts and a cell phone belt clip."

Halbarad gave her a sideways look. "Cargo shorts?"

She laughed. "Nevermind."

It really wasn't everyone else she should've been worried about hovering, it was Aragorn. The man had held his decorum all the way through to their marriage and now he was peacocking around as if he didn't already have her in his bed. It was actually starting to get funny and she was enjoying his giddiness.

What she was getting suspicious of was the fact that she seemed to be stalked by a mysterious chair that popped up around her at all times. She hadn't caught who was responsible, but she was beginning to think it was a larger conspiracy than she'd originally coined. Everyone was becoming a chair wielding enemy, and based on the swiftness that it could appear in, Legolas was involved somehow.

Gimli and Gandalf seemed to be the most normal of everyone involved, the former mostly going on about being an uncle and the latter seeming about as unsurprised as Legolas had been. She blamed that one on wizard sensitivities.

"I must admit," Halbarad observed as they both watched Aragorn help the cooks hang the buck from a tree branch so it could be dressed. "I have never seen him like this, not even in his youth."

"I didn't know he had this in him. He never exactly had to try to impress me, there's not much else you can do to woo a woman when you're already leading armies and saving the world together." She smiled and waved awkwardly as he caught her eye while pulling the rope tight over the branch and tying it off. "One baby and he's suddenly acting like he's twenty years old." She laughed. It was cute, and it made her smile and warmed her heart. He was so damn excited and it helped her ignore the things about it all that worried her. Didn't make them go away, but it did help shut them up for a while.

Chapter Text

Aragorn watched her as she smoothed her hands down the front of her tunic, repeating the motion several times. "I think there's a bump." She said hopefully. "I wish I knew how far along I was for sure."

They had some guesses, probably at least two months, but there were…several different days to take into account on that front.

"Here," she motioned him over and grabbed his hand, pressing his palm against her belly. "There's a bump there, right? Or am I crazy?"

Aragorn felt as if he knew every angle and curve of her body, but couldn't tell something so faint through her tunic if it were there or not. "I cannot be certain." Then at her disappointment he amended himself. "But I believe so."

She was nervous, worried, and unsure, but almost overnight a warmth had grown behind her eyes. How many days had she spent thinking a moment like this would never come? While she bled in the arms of the dwarves after Goblintown and lay awake night after night in the wilds questioning not only her return but her survival. And yet now, so close to the time they'd once planned, despite it all she was to be a mother.

Her smile spread and she kissed him. "This would've been a lot easier at home, but…I don't know, I feel like I needed this."

Home, and safety. He knew they were more likely to run across a band of Dwarves from the Iron Hills or some of Legolas' kin, but that did not expel the dangers entirely. With such a large company no small group of orcs or men would try to go against them, or succeed if they did, but that left the potential for a larger danger to be drawn to them. Their size also meant plentiful supplies and their banners promised wealth. Until they arrived in Erebor he would not cease to worry, and likely not even then. But those fears were his to bear, he knew she had more than enough of her own. So he kept them to himself, speaking them only to the soldiers who doubled their guard along the edges of their camp, and his friends who could watch for her in his stead.

"I can't wait to tell the dwarves, they're going to be so excited."

Aragorn smiled and cast aside his fears, feeding her excitement. "No doubt they will plan a feast to celebrate, even grander than tonight's." With more than a week between them and Erebor, and the riding leaving her hips aching beyond what his two hands could soothe, a spare couple of days camped would be good for the men to unwind, and for her to rest.

Legolas had left with Gimli and several of the men at dawn to step into the bounds of Mirkwood for game to be cooked over the spits being assembled in the center of camp. Drink was meager but food would be plentiful and he had every intention of spinning her around under the stars until her feet grew weary and sleep called to her.

"Oh I can only imagine." She said, wide eyed. "They can build a party around anything, I can't imagine giving them something to go off of."

"The victory feast after the battle must have been a thing to behold." If not for it keeping her in the past longer, he almost thought it a pity she hadn't been there to experience it.

A loud squawk from outside interrupted them and she quickly poked her head out, holding the tent flap open as a large raven hopped inside and perched up on the edge of the bed. It held its leg out, where a roll of parchment had been tied and Josephine had no hesitation in taking it off to read what was sent.

"Safe travels. We await your arrival." She read. "It's from Thorin." The realization made her smile and she held the parchment gingerly.

"We won't go unnoticed any longer, not if the ravens know of our whereabouts."

"We'll be safer for it, they only speak to the dwarves. And maybe Thranduil but I doubt we'll hear from him." She stroked the raven's chest lightly with her finger in thanks. "Wil you tell Thorin we'll be there within a fortnight?"

The bird squawked and waited until she opened the tent flap to dart out back into the sky.

At dusk their meals were being seen to by the cook and a few men who had been conscripted to help him, those with instruments had them out and stuck up any and every song they could think of, and mirth filled the air the likes of which seemed to be seeping into the ground at their feet and sweetening the very grasses and trees. Halbarad had dragged Ciril into an empty space to dance and her young assistant was being courted to dance by half the soldiers in the camp. The tunes were familiar, written and played within their own lands, though Rohan's influence didn't go unnoticed either. He held her close, nothing keeping them apart and nowhere to look but each other.

Aragorn feared he might overtax her, but each time he made to sit and rest another song began and she pulled at his hand. Sooner than they thought she'd be too tired to dance like this she told him, so he obliged. He could not bear to tell her no, not when her face was alight like the night where they'd first danced together, within the hall of Meduseld when victory and newly confessed love filled their hearts.

Eventually though, he had to give her up, with so few ladies to dance with, she couldn't stay with him all evening.

>>><<<

"You're sure you're alright?" Boromir asked worriedly as he took Aragorn's place. "Should you not sit for a time and rest?"

Josephine shook her head, but found at least tonight she couldn't be annoyed by his hovering. Maybe it helped that Eowyn had warned her about his antics so it wasn't a surprise. "I'll rest when I need to rest. Now relax." She ordered.

He seemed to struggle to keep with the beat, wanting to move slower and step with more surety. She could swear he was even holding on to her more gingerly. If he ever married one day and had children of his own, god help his poor wife if he was already this bad with her and Eowyn.

Boromir was also hyper aware and stopped the second he saw Legolas look out into the darkness beyond the camp. His face hardened and it even made her nervous for a moment. Even the thought of one orc or wolf near them had her spooked and made her mind fly back to their tent, where she'd left her sword.

The musicians fell silent and hands went to sword hilts but the Legolas smiled as a party of half a dozen elves stepped into the light of their fires.

"Mae govannen, Tauriel!" Legolas smiled and greeted her with a warm, one armed hug.

The fear left Josephine completely and she stepped away from Boromir to join Legolas. "Mae govannen." She looked to Tauriel first and then nodded to the others with her.

"Lady Josephine." Tauriel bowed her head respectfully. "We saw your camp from the forest, am I to assume you make for Erebor?"

"A little unfinished business there, yes." Josephine agreed.

"We will see you safely to the valley. The land has been quieting since the war, but they are still wild. Those that are friends should walk it unhindered and without fear."

Aragorn's hand found Josephine's back as he came up behind her and greeted Tauriel similarly in Sindarin. "We are grateful for the skill of your bows. Will you not join us in our celebration?"

"Celebration?"

Legolas interjected. "Her majesty is to have a child."

A cheer erupted from the soldiers around them at his remark and Josephine tried to reign in her smile so hard her cheeks hurt.

"Then I offer my congratulations to you. We would be honored."

The music started up again and Tauriel sent two of her archers to keep watch. Josephine waited until she finished giving orders before waving Aragorn and the others off. "Go on, this is girl talk." Well, girl talk with a thousand year old ethereal being, but it was close enough.

Once Legolas was far enough away that she could at least pretend he might not be able to hear her, she leaned in close to Tauriel and flicked her eyes in his direction. "So? He hasn't said a word about you since I got back, what happened?" She paused and frowned as another thought crossed her mind. "Or were you seduced by a dark haired dwarf?"

Tauriel laughed lightly and glanced at Legolas. "My efforts in battle may have brought me renown, but a Silvan elf will have no prince."

Josephine watched her carefully, she seemed sad, but in the way of a long ago sorrow. Like she'd mourned it and let it pass her, but the taste of it was still bitter when it came up.

"We are not all destined for love worthy of stories, Lady Josephine. In the West, perhaps, things will be different. But he will not answer the gull's call until long after I." She looked to the west wistfully. "Even now I hear it and I know I must go."

It made Josephine sad, both to know nothing ever came of their feelings and that Tauriel would likely set sail in her lifetime. Maybe she was right, maybe in the west things would be different for them. When Legolas and Gimli got there, the dwarf would kick him into shape and they'd work something out. Josephine, blissfully, didn't know how that would go so she could just chance the hope.

"Well not tonight you're not. Come on, we've got plenty to eat and if they can pluck up the courage, half the men here would love to dance with you."

She looped her arm through Tauriel's and walked her into the commotion, losing her to Gimli and Legolas within a moment.

Aragorn was waiting by one of the many blankets that had been spread out around the fires and had his eyes on her. He took her hands as she came over to him and kissed her.

"Come, you should rest for a time and have something to eat."

He held her hands while she sat down and more unceremoniously dropped next to her, passing her a tin plate of boar and sweet bread. Now that she was sitting down her back started to remind her how long she'd been standing. Too long probably, but she'd put up with it all over again for the dancing she'd gotten.

She finished her plate quickly, and polished off half of his before she felt full. Laying back on the blanket she looked up at the stars, finding it harder and harder to remember what they'd looked like back home, her old home. Galaxies had been eaten away by street lights and pollution, and here she didn't even know what to call them. Maybe one day she'd get a chance to give the Valar a piece of her mind and she could ask them what Eru had named them.

Aragorn played with her hair and hummed along to the music, interjecting words when there were lyrics to be sung. Full, happy, and safe, she let herself get lost for a while, until it lulled her to sleep.

Chapter Text

As they got closer to Erebor, her dreams turned sour. Well, more so than before anyway. Sleep became a luxury for them both, as she could only manage a few hours at a time before her dreams were swallowed by blood and fire. The boon of her pregnancy couldn't bolster her dreams forever. If she woke in darkness, goblins followed her, if she woke to lamplight, fire consumed her. Her mind seemed determined to explore every danger and what if. In her dreams, her legs felt like sandbags, collapsing beneath her at the knee. She'd wake up with a scream lodged in her throat or a churning stomach she knew couldn't be blamed on the baby.

But they were mere days from Erebor and she couldn't stop or slow down. Come dawn, red eyed and exhausted or not, she dressed and got on her horse and continued.

The morning of their final day, Ciril brought a gown instead of a tunic, one of several Josephine had only caught glimpses of. Deep blue with silver stars and their crest embroidered on the train which was so large as to drape behind her over Galador's rump as she rode. It would've taken far longer than a month's notice to make and she had a feeling Ciril had commissioned it long ago.

Their party split in two, leaving Boromir to lead the camp to the valley while she and Aragorn rode ahead with a company of men, Legolas, Gimli, Halbarad, Ciril, and her apprentice, Firiel . Gandalf, naturally, refused to miss any of the reunion and seemed a bit smug all morning.

Their pace was slow and monotonous as they plodded over damp, brown winter grasses. It was excruciating and her grip on Galador's reins let it show. She was so tense he was feeling it too and shuffled in the grass when they stopped to rest him and the other horses.

Firiel held her train as Aragorn helped her dismount, much more of a feat than usual in regalia, and carried it off the ground so it wasn't muddied.

Aragorn went to Galador's head and laid a soft hand on his nose. "Sidh, Galador. Sidh." He whispered, slowing the shuffling hooves with his soft tone.

"I feel…strange." She told Aragorn, offering Galador a soft scratch along his shoulder.

Aragorn's face fell with concern and he drew close, the horse's flank giving them a small amount of privacy, but for Firiel.

She continued. "Strange like…we'll reach the valley and I'll still be standing at Ravenhill and this was all a dream. Or worse, I dreamed that I killed Azog when I'm really bleeding out on the ice."

He pressed his palm to her cheek. "This is no dream, Josephine. No matter what your fears may tell you."

"I know." She agreed. "But something inside of me won't believe it."

"It will pass." He promised her, a promise that had never failed. He brushed his palm across her brow only to replace it with his lips.

Before the end of their rest, Ciril set a circlet on each of their heads, more modest than what they wore at home but important none the less. The Gondorian Company was ready for its arrival to the valley of Erebor and Dale.

Just before midday, they crested the hills with a golden sun above them. No trace of battle remained, not that she should have expected one. Even the hillsides were lush, with no hint of the tunnels bored through by the orcs. The walls of Dale were whole and its towers tall, strewn with colorful banners and the bustle of life. Beyond it, Ravenhill stood bright, full and strong in the clear air. The waterfall rushed, sweeping away thoughts of black orc blood staining the ice.

And finally, there it stood. Erebor. Not a crack or chip in its heavy gateway, its doors open wide while dwarves and men alike passed unhindered.

A horn sounded from Ravenhill and she jumped in the saddle. But it was a dwarf's horn, not an orc's, and it was answered by several more ringing out from the gateway to the mountain. Respectfully, their pace remained slow as they entered the valley, settling onto the smooth stone road. Travelers cut to the sides and bowed their heads as the company passed.

She tried not to stare as they rode through the gates, knowing there was an order to things and there would come a time for tours later. The halls were shining in lamplight and polished stone, and their horses were led away to the stables.

Firiel and Ciril laid her train behind her and followed in case of need as she and Aragorn led the procession towards the throne room, hand in hand. Hers was shaking.

The long path yawned in front of her but she could see several figures crowded around the throne where a heavily graying dwarf sat. Their footsteps echoed and when they came to the end of the path Aragorn spoke.

"Hail, Thorin, King Under the Mountain."

"Hail, Elessar, High King of Gondor and the Northern Kingdoms." Thorin's voice boomed, strong as ever. He got to his feet with the help of a thickly bearded Fili and the support of an ornate walking stick. "And hail Josephine, High Queen of Gondor and the Northern Kingdoms. Slayer of Azog and champion of the House of Durin. Without whom I would not still stand within these halls."

Behind him she picked out the faces of her friends, all older, grayer, and more heavily bearded then when she'd last seen them. Thorin came closer and his own beard shifted with a smile.

"Hello, old man." She said quietly enough as to not announce it to the entirety of the hall.

"Ever petulant, child." He grumbled. "How good it is to see you."

Formalities completed, she let some of it go and wrapped him in her arms. He was shorter now, than before, and rounder. Years had piled on him in her absence and she bit back tears that not five months ago, they'd fought side by side. Even by dwarven years he was old now, and she could see it in his lined face and tired eyes. He thumbed a tear from one of those tired eyes and looked back at the group.

"What are you lot waiting for? Come and welcome our friend."

His permission was all that had held them back and they surged forward like a wave, with Fili getting in first as the closest one. Each came in turn. Bifur, Bofur, Kili, Dwalin (who barely held back from lifting her into the air) Gloin, (who was also a bit smug) and Bombur, who gave a joyful hello from behind them all. He was so large he was being carried around on a litter by several young dwarves. Nori, and Dori were last, with no Oin among them. Balin and Ori, she'd unknowingly had to say goodbye to long ago, what had become of Oin?

"Come." Thorin interrupted, once everyone had been given a moment. "Let us retire to a place of more comfort."

Fili took Thorin's arm once again and the two led the group away, further into the mountain. Aragorn's hand fell against her back and she was sure he could feel her excitement tinging into his fingers.

As the path widened again, they came into step beside Thorin, giving them a chance to talk more.

"You look well, my old friend. In better spirits than I've had the pleasure of seeing before. It warms my heart."

"There's been a lot to be excited about since we left Gondor." She said, exchanging a brief conspiratorial smirk with Aragorn.

"There is much to tell." Thorin agreed. "And many to see. No doubt the men of Dale will have a feast to honor your arrival. I have heard even the elf king may come with his regards."

There seemed to still be no love lost between the two, not that she expected much different. "So I can tell him I told you so." She chuckled. "Perfect."

They came to a large sitting room with an enormous cracking fireplace surrounded by chairs and cushions. Thorin sat heavily in the largest wooden chair with a grunt and motioned to the chair beside him. "Come." Fili moved another chair right next to hers for Aragorn then took to Thorin's other side. "I will hear your tales."

Servants moved around the room pouring wine and ale and presenting platters of food. Aragorn took a goblet and requested tea for her.

"A vintage brought from Esgaroth, you will find no better. I thought it fitting." Thorin explained as he watched her refuse.

Josephine bit the inside of her cheek and fought a smile, then figured it was as good a time as any. "I'll have to take a bottle home to try later. It isn't good for the baby."

The noise of the dwarves settling in disappeared and the room fell silent as all their eyes landed on her. Beside her Aragorn smirked and their friends went on with finding seats.

"You hear that lads?" Bofur hollered. "Mother bear's havin' a bairn!"

In a flurry of dwarves that made her wonder if they were about to break into song, a table was beside her piled with food, her feet propped on a cushion, and a thick fur draped over her legs. There were no bear hugs or slaps on the back for her, just soft pats and a kiss on the cheek or head here and there. Aragorn however, barely introduced but already somewhat well known by the company, got a congratulatory clap on the shoulder from Dwalin that nearly pitched him onto the floor.

>>><<<

Aragorn sat with her, staying quiet as they congratulated her and watching the warmth that poured from the company. She seemed comforted by them being close and resting within the halls of Erebor. And why should she not? Her life had nearly been given in service of the very future that was now laid before her in jeweled glory.

She sparkled along with it in the firelight and Thorin was holding her hand, seeming content himself, like a grandfather heartened to see his favorite granddaughter.

Before the tale could begin, the doors flew open and three very young dwarves ran in like a windstorm, soon to be corralled by Fili and Kili who shooed the children towards them with introductions. Two light haired boys, Thorin II and the younger, Orin were spoken for by Fili. The third, a small dark haired girl called Nis, Kili's daughter. The three greeted them respectfully and were instructed on no uncertain terms, that she was was their Aunt Josephine.

"And your uncle-" Kili started, turning to him then realizing he wasn't really sure if he should.

"Estel." Aragorn finished for him. If they deemed it well to offer him such an honor, he would not deny it.

The boys ran off quickly, enamored with seeing Gimli and Gandalf again. Nis stayed back and let Josephine scoop her up into her lap.

She smiled at Kili with wet eyes. "You're all grown up. Your beard is even down to your knees." She then gave it an affectionate tug and Aragorn could've sworn the dwarf almost blushed beneath his whiskers.

"Alright then." Dwalin grumbled, growing impatient. "Out with it, the whole thing, from the beginning."

So she did, as if her days since Dunland had been boiling inside her for years just waiting to be let out. At times Gloin, Gimli, and Gandalf interjected but still she spoke for hours. Questions and clarifications waylaid them but she didn't seem to mind.

She tired, but either didn't notice or didn't mind and Aragorn could tell she had no intention of stopping before the end. From Dunland to Gondor, Ithilien to Erebor, she told them every last morsel. The Ring was explained, and her reasons for entering Goblintown, which seemed to soothe something deep in Thorin that had sat for decades.

They ate and drank and the day grew old as everything was laid bare.

"And you," She said pointedly to Bofur. "Couldn't help but come to my wedding."

"Aye!" Bofur laughed. "Wasn't like ye knew who I was t' ye."

"He never lets us forget it either." Bifur grumbled.

"Drunkenly cried his damn eyes out." She added with a laugh.

Aragorn thought he might need to interject eventually and call for an end to the evening as she sank further and further into her chair, but Thorin beat him to it.

"That's enough for tonight. Lady Josephine has traveled far and needs to rest. There will be time for talk tomorrow."

Aragorn got up and took her hand as she stood. "Yes, we must return to our camp."

"You will have no camp." Thorin corrected. "Your men have been made comfortable in the barracks and rooms have been made ready while we spoke. Kili, if you would see them to the guest house."

"Of course, uncle. Come, Lord Aragorn, Lady Josephine. You must be exhausted, sleeping for two and all." He held his arm out for her to take.

"Not as exhausted as Mirkwood." She answered lightly, sandwiched between him and Kili.

Kili led them through the city and to a guest house already guarded by two of their men. Inside Ciril greeted them, having slipped away long ago to unpack and prepare for their arrival. Aragorn was relieved to see a bed prepared that was built for his height and then wondered why he'd doubted it; it seemed they'd been expected for many years now.

Ciril didn't do much more than slip Josephine into a shift and remove the ornaments and beads from her hair before waving her off to bed.

Josephine shuffled along the rug with a yawn, seeming to not care as he hovered and guided her beneath the covers and pulled them up to her shoulders. Ciril took her leave, and Aragorn slipped into bed as well.

Josephine was already asleep, still and lax against her pillows. But a peace seemed to have settled in her. An end to a task she'd long held above herself.

The dwarves had become as much her family as their fellowship had, that much was clear. They cared for her as a dear friend and Aragorn could not bear to hold any doubts that they'd cared for her as best they could during their journey. For that, he owed them a debt that he could never repay, for they'd guarded his very heart.