Chapter 12 – Escaping Mirkwood and Entering Laketown

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Night soon turned to day and the Company remained trapped in their cells. The party above seemed to have died down now, confirming that for the prisoners. Glyn woke slowly to see Fili looking down as they all thought they had no hope of making it to the Lonely Mountain. The half-Elven reached up and gently touched his cheek.

"Have hope, Fili…" The Welshman said softly.

"Day has likely come…we are running out of time." The elder prince leant into the touch.

"So long as there is a chance that Bilbo is still out there…there is still hope. Don't give up now." Glyn said with a soft smile. The two startled when they heard someone clear their throat just outside the cell.

"I trust I'm not interrupting?" Bilbo whispered with a grin.

"Bilbo…" Glyn smiled as they both went to the door. "Never will I underestimate the determination of Hobbits."

"Well are you going to continue giving up or are you both ready to get out of here?" He held up the ring of keys before unlocking the door as the others pontificated on the same thoughts Fili and Glyn were having earlier.

"I'll wager the sun's on the rise. It must be nearly dawn." Bofur said grimly.

"We're never going to reach the mountain, are we?" Ori asked, hopelessness in his voice.

"Not stuck in here, you're not!" Bilbo said as he got to work on unlocking the doors to the delight of the rest of the Company.

"Bilbo!" Balin said in surprise, the other Dwarves exclaiming in surprise.

"Shhh! There are guards nearby." Bilbo warned, the others quieting down.

Bilbo led the Dwarves through the halls of the Woodland Realm, eventually making their way to the wine cellar. Glyn and a few of the others were rather amused to see a couple of Elves passed out on the table surrounded by several empty bottles. The Hobbit led them deeper in and though Glyn had the tendency to give people the benefit of the doubt, he was confused.

"This way…" Bilbo said quietly.

"I don't believe it…we're in the cellars!" Kili finally voiced what the other thought.

"You were supposed to be leading us out, not further in!" Bofur said and Bilbo merely rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"I know what I'm doing!" He snapped. "This way." He led them into a room with several barrels that were stacked sideways, all of them open on one end. Glyn then noticed the trap door and it dawned on him what the plan was.

"Everyone, climb into the barrels, quickly!" Bilbo said.

"Are you mad?! They'll find us!" Dwalin pointed out.

"I'll quite literally stick out…" Glyn said in a deadpan tone.

"No, no, they won't find you, I promise you. Please, please, you MUST trust me!" He said and all of them milled around, deciding what to do. They heard a commotion, indicating that their time was quickly running out.

"Do as he says!" Thorin said with no hesitation.

Glyn climbed into a barrel, crouching so that he fit more as the other Dwarves likewise climbed into their own barrels. Glyn could see Bilbo moving towards a lever and he noticed the section of the floor that could be opened. His eyes widening, he went to protest before he was cut off by Bofur.

"What do we do now?"

"Hold your breath." Bilbo said with a small grin.

"Hold my breath? What do you mean?" He asked as Glyn took in a deep breath. The Hobbit pulled the lever and the barrels went down the opening, the Dwarves telling as they fell several feet before landing in a river that ran beneath the Woodland Realm. As they moved towards an opening, Thorin held his arms out to hold them in place. Suddenly, Bilbo fell into the river and grabbed a hold of the barrel holding Nori.

"Well done, Master Baggins." Thorin said with a slight grin.

"Go." Bilbo said after waving his hand in thanks.

"Come on…let's go."

The Company begin to paddle with their hands, the river slowly pulling the barrels along. Emerging into the light, the ones up front spot a waterfall ahead and Thorin turns to take a look at the rest of them group.

"Hold on!"

Gripping tight to the sides of his barrel, Glyn felt his stomach drop as they went down the waterfall and into the rapids. Glyn could see the Elves out of the corner of his eyes and Legolas yelled out an order, a horn sounding out. The gate shuts and they are unable to go any further down the river.

"Bugger…"

Just as the guards appeared, swords drawn, a black arrow pierces the back of one. Several large orcs swarmed over the walls, killing the remaining Elves before throwing themselves at the Dwarves and Glyn. Reaching out to one of the dead guards, the Welshman snags a sword as Dwalin manages to pick one up himself.

"Kili!" The older Dwarf calls and Glyn turned to see the young prince heading up to the gate lever.

Heading up with a sword tossed to him by Dwalin, Kili fought off several orcs with Fili throwing a small knife at an orc that prepared to strike his brother from behind. Just as Kili reached the lever, a black arrow pierces Kili's calf and he stops short, panting in pain.

"Kili!" The fair haired Dwarf called.

Despite the arrow in his calf, Kili managed to pull the lever before falling over onto his back. Glyn turned to see a large Orc with metal embedded in his head preparing another arrow. Tauriel arrived as another orc prepared to kill the raven haired prince, killing the orc with an arrow to the head. Kili returned to the lever and continues to pull the lever, finally opening the gate.

Holding onto his barrel tightly as well as the sword he had a hold of, Glyn was unable to see anything behind him as he focused on maintaining control of his barrel. Glyn felt an impact and he turned to see an orc balancing on his barrel. The creature raised his sword and brought it down, the Welshman bringing his sword up to block the attack. Striking the back of the orcs knee, the foul being nearly lost its balance but dropped the sword. With a grunt, Glyn drove it into its stomach before pushing it off and into the river.

"I don't bloody think so…" The half-Elven muttered as he gripped the barrel and refocused on trying to control the barrel.

"Cut the log!" He heard Thorin yell.

Thorin hit the log with his sword followed by Bofur, then Glyn and finally Dwalin. The log, swarming with orcs, fell into the river killing them. Glyn watched, much to his amazement as Bombur went sailing through the air before landing on the river bank. The barrel began rolling along the path, mowing down a great many orcs in his path before it flipped through the air and landed on the other side of the river.

Glyn watched in concern as the barrel came to a stop and was surrounded by orcs. Bombur kicked out the bottom and his hands burst out of the side, holding axes before he began spinning rapidly, killing many orcs around him. Tossing his axes to one of the dwarves in the barrels, he gracefully jumped into a barrel.

"Miracles and oddities…" Glyn muttered to himself.

Legolas, Tauriel and the other Elves soon caught up with the Company and Orcs, fighting them off along the treetops and river banks. Glyn noticed a sword sail through the air above his head and into an orc that was about to kill the Elven prince. The fair haired Elf looked at Thorin, a grudging look of understanding passing between them. Legolas and the rest of the Elves ceased their pursuit then and the group continued to slowly float down river.


Finally, the river began to calm down somewhat, the company now paddling with their hands to continue moving.

"Anything behind us?" Thorin asked.

"Not that I can see." Balin reported.

"I think we've outrun the orcs." Bofur shouted up.

"Not for long; we've lost the current."

"Bofur is half drowned." Dwalin shouted up.

"We're all half bloody drowned!" Glyn shouted, sopping wet.

At Thorin's urging, the group made for the river bank where they climbed out onto the shore. From the looks of things, Glyn and Bilbo were the only ones with a weapon, the others having lost theirs through various means. Glyn sighed as he removed his tunic and rung it out over the side of the rock in the hopes of drying it quicker. He was unaware of Fili approaching him and jumped when he felt a cold hand on his back. He turned to see a grinning fair haired prince.

"Dear God, don't do that…I'm still coming down off of the rush from back there…"

"Sorry…didn't know you'd react that way."

"How can I help you?" He asked as he put his creased tunic back on and secured a belt around his waist, sliding the sword into it.

"Do you know anything about healing aside from what we saw at Rivendell?"

"Kili's wound…" He remembered and the other nodded.

"The bleeding won't stop no matter how much pressure we put on it and his blood seems a little dark." Fili pointed out and Glyn followed him back to the group, Kili perched on a rock, leg extended. Glyn approached and crouched by him.

"I'm fine, Glyn…" Kili protested.

"You know, my patrons used to say the same thing after been glassed. I never used to believe them."

"Of course you didn't…" Kili muttered as the other peeled back the cloth over the wound. "Or just peel it back with no warning."

"You'd have said no if I had asked…" Glyn said, hiding his concern when he noticed the oddly dark blood. "Are orcs known to use anything on their arrows that would cause this? Poison of some kind?"

"Not that I know of." Fili said.

"Bind his leg quickly. You have two minutes." Thorin said, interrupting Glyn's thoughts before he could continue.

Glyn stood up whilst Fili got to work on binding the wound. Glyn and the other noticed a man aiming an arrow at Ori and immediately moved to his defence. Dwalin jumped in front of the archer with a thick branch, but the bowman fired and it embedded in the branch. Kili picked up a rock to throw it but it was shot out of his hand.

"Do it again, and you're dead." The bowman spoke before Glyn placed his blade agains the man's neck.

"I wouldn't advise it…" He warned, the bowman regarding him.

"You wield a sword of Mirkwood but you do not look like one of them."

"It's a long story…one I am disinclined to share with someone who threatens my friends when they are defenceless."

"Excuse me…" Balin spoke up, his tone casual. "…but, uh, you're from Laketown, if I'm not mistaken? That barge over there, it wouldn't be available for hire, by any chance?" He asked and the bowman lowered his bow, Glyn lowering his sword as he did so. The man climbed aboard the barge, the others waiting by it.

"What makes you think I will help you?" He asked.

"Those boots have seen better days…" Balin noted as the man loaded the barrels. "As has that coat. No doubt you have some hungry mouths to feed. How many bairns?" Balin asked, Glyn surprised at how deductive the other was. It seemed to pay off as the bowman turned, his expression looking a little less guarded.

"A boy and two girls…"

"And your wife, I'd imagine she's a beauty." Balin said and Glyn noticed the other look a little pained at the mention.

"Aye. She was." He said and Balin's smile faded.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" He's cut off by his brothers loud whispering.

"Oh, come on, come on, enough with the niceties…"

"What's your hurry?" The man asked.

"What's it to you?" Dwalin asked and Glyn rolled his eyes.

"I would like to know who you are and what you are doing in these lands." The man said bluntly.

"We are simple merchants from the Blue Mountains journeying to see our kin in the Iron Hills." Balin said before the man turned to Glyn.

"I'm but a barrel merchant from Mirkwood…lost my balance and fell into the river." He smiled, Fili grinning beside him. Not breaking his smile, he subtly, but firmly stepped on Fili's foot. "The Dwarves assisted me with moving the barrels down here."

"Simple merchants, you say?" The bowman asked.

"We'll need food, supplies, weapons. Can you help us?" Thorin asked as the bowman looked at the barrels, noticing the various nicks and dents sustained in the fight.

"Your friend's lie is convincing…he has an Elf's ears and I know the barrels come from where he says he's from…"

"What of it?" Thorin asked.

"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 will see you in irons before risking the wrath of King Thranduil." He boarded the barge and tossed the rope to Balin. Thorin mouths to him.

"Offer him more."

"I'll wager there are ways to enter that town unseen." Balin suggested and the other nodded.

"Aye. But for that, you will need a smuggler."

"For which we will pay double." Balin said, and the other regarded him with a suspicious expression.


Glyn stood off to one side, speaking with the man known as Bard. The rest of the Dwarves were milling around, some sat down essentially twiddling their thumbs whilst they waited. The fog had set in now and some ice could be seen around the barge.

"You are fortunate that you are half-Elven and carrying a sword of Mirkwood. It will help with any ruse that we need to concoct should anything go wrong."

"I wish I didn't have to carry this particular sword…"

"Where are you from? I've never seen you in Laketown, but your accent suggests you were born there…"

"Until recently, I was a denizen of the far away nation of Wales. Fate brought me to the protection of Rivendell where I discovered my heritage as a half-Elven…I suppose you could say Rivendell is my new home."

"I have never heard of a nation known as Wales…must truly be far away."

"You could say that. My apologies for raising my blade against you." He said, leaning against the side of the railing.

"You were defending your friends…it's understandable."

"Watch out!" Bofur shouted when large rocks came into view, which upon closer inspection were actually ruins.

"What are you trying to do, down us?" Thorin asked irritably.

"I was born and bred on these waters, Master Dwarf. If I wanted to drown you, I would not do it here." Bard answered.

"Oh I have had enough of this lippy lakeman. I say we throw over the side and be done with it." Dwalin said and Bilbo turned to him angrily.

"Oh, Bard…his name's Bard."

"How do you know?" Bofur asked.

"I asked him…" Bilbo said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I don't care what he calls himself. I don't like him." Dwalin said to Thorin.

"We do not have to like him, we simply have to pay him. Come on now, lads, turn out your pockets." Balin ordered and Glyn took out two small pouches of gold, handing them to the bargeman.

"How do we know he won't betray us?" Dwalin quietly asked Thorin.

"We don't." Thorin answered.

"There's, um, just a problem: we're ten coins short." Balin said and Thorin instantly turned to Gloin with a slight smile.

"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? Naught but misery and grief and-" He stops talking when they all turn to look up at the Lonely Mountail appearing through the thinning fog.

"Bless my beard. Take it. Take all of it." He said, instantly throwing a sack of coins into the middle of the pile, before Bilbo coughed as the Bargeman approached them.

"The money, quick, give it to me." Bard said.

"We'll pay you when we get our provisions, but not before." Thorin said.

"If you value your freedom, you'll do as I say. There are guards ahead." They turn and spot many rooftops in the distance, no doubt belonging to Laketown. The group comes to a stop just outside of the city at a dock. Bard hops off and speaks to a man whilst the Dwarves went back into hiding. Glyn kept an eye out.

Glyn couldn't hear what was been said but he began to grow nervous when he noticed Bard pointing at them and shaking hands. With a sinking feeling, he felt as though they were been sold out and his hand was itching to draw the sword at his hip. That feeling dispersed when he saw fish being pulled out, no doubt to go into barrels and he did his best to hide his amused grin. Bard gets back on and they begin to move.

"Well, Bard…I must say, even if we get caught, I will be caught highly amused…" He whispered.

"Quiet. We're approaching the toll gate."

"Halt! Goods inspection. Papers, please. Oh it's you, Bard…and visitor…" The gatekeeper turned to the half-Elven who smiled.

"Morning, Percy." Bard said lightly.

"Anything to declare?"

"Nothing, but that I am cold and tired, and ready for home." Bard said, the Gatekeeper agreeing before turning to Glyn.

"Escorting this batch personally?"

"I needed to get out of the forest for a change." The Welshman smiled.

"Not so fast." A man stepped out and plucked the papers out of Percy's hand. "Consignment of empty barrels from the Woodland Realm. Only, they're not empty, are they, Bard?" He asked as he tossed the papers to the wind. "If I recall correctly, you're licensed as a bargeman, not a fisherman."

"That's none of your business." Bard said coldly.

"Wrong. It's the Master's business, which makes it my business." The man said.

"You would risk the wrath of Thranduil, king of the Woodland Realm, by refusing these barrels?" Glyn spoke up.

"As I said…Bard is not a fisherman."

"Oh come on, Alfrid, have a heart. People need to eat."

"These fish are illegal." He threw a fish that he was holding into the water, then he turned to the soldiers. "Empty the barrels over the side." He ordered, the captain echoing the order, the soldiers obeying quickly. Needless to say both Glyn and Bard were quite concerned.

"Folk in this town are struggling. Times are hard. Food is scarce." Bard tried to appeal to Alfrid.

"That's not my problem." The other said callously.

"And when the people hear the Master is dumping fish back in the lake, when the rioting starts, will it be your problem then?"

That worked, as Alfrid raised his hands and stopped the soldiers from emptying the barrels. It was just as well, as that barrel was holding one of the Dwarves.

"Ever the people's champion, eh, Bard?" Alfrid sneered. "Protector of the common folk? You might have their favour now, Bargeman, but it won't last." He warned before walking away.

"Raise the gate!" Percy shouted. As they began to sail through, Alfrid turns.

"The Master has his eye on you; you'd do well to remember. We know where you live."

"It's a small town, Alfrid. Everyone knows where everyone lives." Bard responded and Glyn smiled at that. In Wales, particularly villages, everyone knew everyone. Glyn took in the sight of the town, poor and ramshackle. He could only hope that these people would deal with whoever this wretched Master was. With some luck, things would go smoother.