With nothing left to do for Fili and Kili, Thorin knew he needed to turn to other pressing matters. He turned to address all the shell shocked people in the room. An awkward silence permeated the atmosphere as he tried to search for words.
No one else was willing to speak at that moment. Oin busied himself with cleaning up his medical supplies while Gloin stoked the fire and added more wood. Everyone stayed quiet in their thoughts and the night stretched on. Thorin thought about their situation as he sat in silence with everyone else. He listened to the crackle of the fire in the fireplace as Gloin poked at it with a stick. He listened to the tapping and scuffling beside him as Oin set about cleaning and organizing his medical supplies. And of course, Fili and Kili did not sleep completely soundlessly.
"What do we do now?" Balin was the first to break the silence and ask what was on everyone's mind, "Our quest has failed."
Thorin felt the pain of Erebor's loss flood back into him now. This was their only chance. He didn't see how they could get into the mountain now. They had been so close and it seemed now all was lost. It hurt. The wound he had suffered the day the dragon came 171 years ago had been reopened and he felt as though the grief was just as fresh now as it had been then.
He had to go on. He knew that now. He was perfectly willing to die for Erebor but he felt as though something had changed. A spell, a curse that had been working through him all these years had been broken. Or at least, delayed.
"I am afraid we do not have enough gold to make the journey back to the Blue Mountains," Gloin said, "And with winter upon us, the journey back would not be advisable."
"We may have to stay here" Thorin said with a sigh. He took that moment to glance over at Bard who stood by in the corner with Legolas and Tauriel.
"I do not favor anyone who dare attempt to wake that dragon without regard for the consequences," Bard said, stepping forward to address Thorin, his expression hard, "You are truly the king of carven stone, as the legends have said?"
"Yes," Thorin confirmed wearily. He resisted the urge to say something unfavorable, realizing they may be at this man's mercy, "We have come to reclaim what is ours…"
"As a man of Lake-town I would implore you to think of the consequences of entering that mountain, Mountain King," Bard said, "We are a small town, choking under the yoke of the Lake-town Master."
Thorin sighed. He felt compassion for the people of Lake-town. He knew they were the descendants of the survivors of Dale, the Human town destroyed when the dragon came. They lived in sight of the mountain all these years, all knowing the legend of what had happened to Erebor and they feared what could happen to them if the dragon was awakened.
"I can assure you we will think of your people if we find another way into the mountain," Thorin said sincerely, "But I can also assure you that we will try to enter it if ever we get the chance. For too long my people have lived in exile. We long to return home."
Bard regarded him for a moment and Thorin worried that he had said the wrong thing. Being sent away would likely spell death for his nephews. The two stared at one another for a few moments and the room was silent.
"I will help you where I can," Bard said finally, easing the tension in the room, "I may not like the idea of my town being burned to ruin by dragon fire, but as a father myself; I would like to see those young ones recover fully. I will bring you what supplies I can spare in the morning. You may stay here at least till winter passes. We will see what happens after that."
"You have my thanks," Thorin said curtly. Bard nodded just as curtly and quickly left the room. Thorin turned to the elves. It was time to get some more things out in the opened, if it seemed they would all going to be neighbors, at least temporarily. "And what of the elves of Mirkwood?" he said hesitantly, not bothering to disguise the suspicion and mistrust from his voice, "It is your desire to see us broken and hungry, is it not? After all your king was willing to let us starve after we came to him homeless when the dragon took Erebor."
Legolas stepped forward, glowering down at the dwarf king, "It is not my sorrow to learn that you despise elves, Dwarf," he said, "I assure you the feeling is quite mutual. But as I said earlier, the return of Erebor's wealth would benefit everyone in the region and my father would be in favor of that. However, in light of the darkness that seems to be spreading out of Dol Guldor, my father prefers to lock down the forest and cease all contact with outsiders." Legolas said, glancing at Tauriel. The two regarded one another long and hard before Legolas continued,
"But I am not in agreement with my father in this matter. And you and your kin fought bravely in the orc cavern and for that I am willing to aid you so long as it remains mutually beneficial and appropriate."
"The threat of that one orc cavern is a concern," Tauriel said, "They are too close for comfort. They will threaten you and Lake-town."
"What then do you propose, Elf?" Thorin asked. He had been concerned about the cavern as he had no doubt that he was what they were after, he had been made quite aware that there was a large sum of gold to be had for his head. These farmhouses wouldn't be much protection.
"Tauriel and I will return to the orc cave and rid the area of them," Legolas said, "We killed a number of them and if we decimate their population before they have the chance to reinforce their numbers, the area will be much safer."
"We will clear them out like pests to be exterminated," Tauriel added.
Thorin stared at them both for a moment, feeling a bit taken surprised that these elves would be willing to risk their lives for his sake. Why? Was his mission that important to them? He could not believe they did not have some kind of ulterior motive. He brushed his feelings aside for now and allowed Legolas to continue laying out his plan.
"After we take care of the orc filth," Legolas continued, "We will return to Mirkwood and attempt to get aid from Thranduil. We will return when we can."
"I doubt your king will be so inclined to help us," Balin said with a sigh, "After the words he exchanged with Thorin."
"We will see," Tauriel told him, "We will attempt to recover your weapons and gear from the palace at the very least." She glanced at Legolas, "We should leave while we have the cover of darkness."
The elves turned and left rather abruptly. Thorin still didn't trust them, but he didn't see the use in trying to interrogating them for their true motives. He felt wearied at that moment as he turned back towards the others. He was tired, he was hungry, he was wet from wading through the lake, and he was still beside himself with grief over Erebor and with worry for his nephews.
Thorin was left with his company and the hobbits and gnomes. They all sat in silence as the night dwindled away. But their silence was interrupted by a sudden fit of coughing. Thorin felt alarmed, turning to his nephews, fearing Kili was aggravating his lung more. But Kili still slept on the table before him, as did Fili, neither making much of a sound.
"Mother," came Brenna's voice and Thorin glanced over to see Bringa the gnome in the midst of a coughing fit. She winced hard as the coughing aggravated the untreated wound on her arm.
Oin quickly came forward to examine the small gnome who tried to brush him off, "I'm alright," she gasped, "It's just a cut and I'm afraid I've had the cough for quite some time. Brenna and I have been living in less than ideal conditions."
Bringa regained herself, but Brenna looked afraid.
"Caught a bit of sickness in those caves," Oin said, placing his ear trumpet to Bringa's lungs as she coughed, "Come along then, lets take a look at that wound. We better get ye into bed. And that goes for the rest of you, including you Thorin."
"There is no way I could sleep now," Thorin said, glancing at his nephews.
"You won't be any good to them when you are wearied by exhaustion," Balin pointed out, "I'll stay up with the lads for awhile if you want to lie down."
"I'm afraid I must insist, Cousin," Oin continued before turning to Bringa who was trying to shrug off another coughing fit, "I'm going to take ye to one of the other cabins, Lass," he explained, "If ye caught something contagious, we can't risk it spreading to the lads. Come, off we go."
"What about my daughter?" Bringa asked, glancing at Brenna whose eyes were wide with fear as she watched her mother hack and cough, "I don't want her getting sick either."
"No, Mother, I'm staying with you," Brenna insisted, a hint of panic in her voice, "Please, don't make me stay with them."
"Now then your mother is right," Oin said, "Can't risk causing an outbreak."
Thorin swallowed hard as he listened to the exchange. He didn't know Bringa was ill and now she seemed to suddenly be deteriorating before his eyes. She was pale and visibly shaking as she coughed and coughed. Thorin was sympathetic to her suffering, but he was also concerned for his company.
Brenna shook her head in disapproval and tried to follow Bringa as Oin began to usher her towards the doorway, "Please..."
"Now, Lass, I think it's best you stay with us for tonight and let your mother recover," Oin said again before glancing at Thorin for help.
"Master Baggins," Thorin said, "Why don't you see to Miss Brenna for tonight."
"What, me?" Bilbo began, but Thorin cut him off with a willful look and he nodded, "Very well then," he said, "Come along then, Brenna. Asphodel."
"It'll be okay, Brenna," Asphodel said, "We can see your mother in the morning when she's feeling better."
With that, the hobbits and gnomes left, Oin following close behind them.
"There are nine other cottages," Dwalin began, "I checked them out them while I was patrolling. They're all similar to this one. The wall surrounding the farmland is falling apart but it can be repaired."
"Good," Thorin said, turning to the rest of the company, "The rest of you, go get some sleep."
"Will do," Bofur said, as he ushered Bifur and Bombur out. Dori, Nori, and Ori followed suit. Gloin hurried off as well, leaving only Dwalin and Balin behind. Thorin glanced at his two cousins and closest friends.
"Thorin," Balin urged again, "Get some rest. We'll stay up with the lads."
Thorin sighed. The last thing he wanted to do was leave Fili and Kili right now. But as he attempted to stand, he realized Balin was right. He was exhausted. He felt weakened on his feet and his damp clothes chilled him as they clung to his skin. Slowly, he moved over to sort out the pile of tunics and furs Bofur had brought from Lake-town. Man sized clothes, but they would have to do.
He walked into the small room in the back of the house. It was a very small bedroom with a cotton mattress filled with straw in the far corner under the window. There was no door separating the the room from the main part of the house, just a small arched doorway. The thin thatched roof was drafty and Thorin shivered as the cold night air hit his dampened clothes. Thorin sighed at the abysmal conditions as he quickly changed into the baggy clothes. Their homes in the Blue Mountains had been small, but they had been adequate. He and his nephews had been comfortable in their little cottage there. This tiny peasant's house would offer little protection from the elements and needed quite a bit of repair.
"The winters in these lands are harsh," Balin was saying to Dwalin when Thorin came back out. Balin was adjusting the furs covering Fili and Kili while Dwalin stoked the fire in the stove.
"This stove is not in the best of condition," Dwalin added, glancing up and the stone chimney that stuck out of the stove and into the roof, "These cracks should be repaired as soon as possible."
Thorin sat down on the bench in front of them as Balin and Dwalin glanced at him, "Animals will be scarce at this time of year," Balin continued, "If we are indeed to stay here for the winter, we will need to acquire gold."
Thorin sighed. "To live as desolates begging for scraps while at the mercy of men and elves," he said, "While under the shadow of our mountain of gold. I don't know if I can bare it."
"You haven't a choice," Balin told him firmly, "We'd never make it back to the Blue Mountains in these conditions, the lads would never make the journey. We're stuck here."
"And we don't have to beg," Dwalin pointed out, "We're dwarves. Masters of stone and metal. We have services to offer. It would be my guess that not one of those men are in possession of a fine Dwarven blade."
"Or beautiful Dwarven carven stone," Balin said.
Thorin smiled at their words. Things were indeed abysmal for his company, but Balin and Dwalin were determined to be optimistic.
One thing Thorin was sure of as he grabbed some furs and lay down on the hard bench, was that tough times would lie ahead of them.