"What was that?" Bard asked, steering the little barge down the water ways.
"Probably rope, there's quite a bit here," Ali ignored the obvious question.
"I'm talking about appearing out of thin air," Bard asked again, his voice was calm and sure.
Ali's eyes widened and waved her arms and shushed Bard, she watched the barrels. Could the dwarves hear them? Bard looked at her skeptically, probably thinking she was crazy. One minute she was talking all regal, then the next she was waving her arms around like a wacky-waving-inflatable-arm-tube-man.
Ali sighed. She should forgive him for the whole, threatening them without any real reason, fiasco back on the beach. Overall he actually seemed like a pretty nice guy, and he hadn't turned them over to the guards back there.
"Why did you tell them that I was from Thranduil's palace?" Ali asked, changing the subject, she turned to watch Bard as he steered. He was handsome, tall, and dark, with a brooding intellect that women would swoon for. She bet he melted hearts wherever he went.
"As far as I know that's where you came from, you're wearing elvish attire after all." Bard furrowed his brow and concentrated on the narrow paths as he began docking.
"Don't tell the dwarves what happened," Ali grabbed Bard's sleeve and whispered to him as he turned to throw a rope to the dock.
He fixed his dark eyes on her, "what do you mean? How is it they don't know?" Bard looked at the fish filled barrels then back to Ali. Concern darkened his eyes even more, "if you're in any sort of trouble, you can tell me."
"Oh no, I'm totally fine!" Ali took a step back and smiled at him for the first time since they met. "They just don't know about the whole teleporting thing."
Bard just nodded and finished tying up the boat. He was obviously mulling over everything, definitely wondering if he had gotten more than he bargained for. Hopefully he didn't ask for any more money, because he wasn't going to get it.
Alfrid practically ran all the way back to the Master's house. He didn't want the news of the counselor's visit to be heard by the Master from anyone but himself. He was, after all, a counselor to the Master, so they were one in the same.
She was a bit frightening, not much though, it was more shock than fear back on the dock he told himself. Beautiful as well, in that tight dress, her dark hair flowing around her shoulders. Her sulky attitude was the only real turn off, but he could work with it.
As he approached the Master's carved wooden doors he smirked. Perhaps during her stay here he might try and court her, that is, if she could change that attitude.
Inside the room, the Master was still in bed, though he began to stir. It seems that Alfrid was the first to reach him with the news, good, this might help him also rid himself of the bargeman.
"All this talk of civil unrest; someone's been stirring the pot, sire." Alfrid went about his duties as counselor, holding onto this tid bit of news for the moment.
"Gah! Auh!" The Master fell back to the bed, rubbing his knees.
"Gout playing up sire?" Alfrid asked, he was a patient man. One had to be to stay near those in power.
"It's the damp. It's the only possible explanation. Now get me a brandy." The Master waved him off. Alfrid was happy to comply, downing the first one himself. One of the perks of being a counselor.
"The mood of the people, sire, it's turning ugly."
"They're commoners, Alfrid. They've always been ugly. It's not my fault that they live in a place that stinks of fish oil and tar. Jobs, shelter, food, that's all they ever bleat about." The Master grumbled as he began finally moving around.
"It's my belief, sire, they're being lead on by troublemakers."
"Then we must find these troublemakers and arrest them!" The Master exclaimed as he finished dressing. They both knew who the real troublemaker was.
"There is one other thing, sire, King Thranduil has sent his counselor to visit Laketown." Alfrid spoke as he followed the Master down the hall.
"Well, where is he?" The Master choked down his swig of brandy at the news. It was, after all, unheard of for the King of Mirkwood to send anyone to Laketown. No doubt the Master would be concerned about his income being minimized from a bad report.
"It's actually a she, sire, and she is currently with Bard the bargeman." Alfrid bowed his head, nearly running into the Master when he stopped short.
"Why is that? We cannot have such guests socializing with the rabble. Fetch her at once." The Master continued walking again, throwing back the rest of his brandy.
"She insisted that she visit the town on her own, sire, and would come to see you when she saw fit." When they reached the Master's study he began pouring himself yet another brandy. "I believe the bargeman is already filling her head with unsavory ideas about you, sire." Alfrid watched the Master out of the corner of his eye, anger already beginning to brew at the thought. He was an easy man to manipulate.
"Then we will just have to change her mind about the bargeman," the Master emptied the rest of his glass and looked out the window at Laketown.
Alfrid smiled reassuringly, "I'll see about summoning her here immediately."
There trip through town was…strange. For all the sneaking they did to get in, they certainly didn't do themselves any favors when twelve dwarves were forced to just pop out of the barrels in broad daylight, like some crazy Middle-Earth Jack-in-the-Box. Then at the beginning of their trek Bard had them attempt to stay out of sight. Apparently this was Bard's first time dealing with dwarves.
Sure they were short, but they were heavy. Ali guessed that even Ori, who she assumed was the smallest, weighed more than Bard. Their footsteps made each board groan under their weight. Then put all twelve of them together and it sounded like a marching band roving around behind crates and down alleys. Not to mention the constant grumbling that Dwalin made.
Thorin stayed right behind Ali, one hand constantly resting on her hip. The warmth was definitely welcomed, but the way he attempted to steer her around crates with it was bothersome.
"Thorin, I'm not a toddler," Ali whispered when he tried to steer her farther around a dirty crate then necessary.
"I understand this," Thorin rumbled back to her, apparently not getting the hint.
"Then why are you steering me like one?" Ali rolled her eyes, trying to keep up with Bard was difficult enough with these short legs.
"You are upset with me," Thorin's hand dropped as Bard slowed.
"No, I'm not, I just don't want you to think you have to protect me all the time," as they moved along Ali held her hand back for him. "Let me help you as well." Ali's heart picked up a beat when his warm hand engulfed hers. She loved the way his rough fingers felt against her softer palm, the bridled strength he had that could easily crush her own in an instant. It was a thrilling yet terrifying sensation.
"As long as you don't throw yourself in front of an arrow," Thorin rumbled after a moment.
"I admit that was not the smartest thing I've done," Ali shrugged, could she have acted better? Yes. Would she do it all over again? Probably. "But then you stepped in front of me, basically doing the exact same thing."
"I was protecting you." Thorin protested, pausing behind a crate for a villager to pass before continuing.
"What do you think I was doing? The Macarena?" Ali grumbled.
"I have no idea. You could possibly have been for all I know." Thorin grumbled back but held onto her hand a fraction tighter.
Ali had to remind herself that Thorin didn't know what the Macarena was, and he wasn't just being a butt.
"Every once in a while you're going to have to let me step in and protect you, that's how relationships are. I'm not going to sit back and let you do all the work." Ali yanked on his hand to speed him up when he faltered.
"I would prefer if you did when it came to the life threatening situations."
"So then you would sit back and let me do the work for the rest of the time?"
"Of course not. I would never step down from a situation."
"Then don't ask me to."
"Very well."
"Thank you."
Ali and Thorin had stopped under one of the houses. The rest of the dwarves had begun to gather around. She was actually surprised that he had agreed with her in the end, at least until his eyes narrowed slightly.
"You'll have to travel the rest of the way in the water," Bard spoke up before Thorin could continue their little squabble.
"What?" Dwalin barely restrained his outrage. Ali could see him beginning to turn red.
"My house is under watch from the Master of Laketown, there will be no possible way for me to smuggle you dwarves through the front door." Bard didn't seem fazed in the slightest by Dwalin's growing anger. Instead he turned his attention to Bilbo, explaining the route that they would have to take to reach his home.
"We will continue this discussion later," Thorin rumbled, watching her with those icy blue eyes.
"No, we won't," Ali simply stated, meeting his gaze with as much determination as possible. "Now get in the water and cool off, you're not going to win this."
Ali leaned forward and placed a light kiss on Thorin's lips, instantly softening his gaze and surprising him.
"Ali," Bard waved his hand for her to follow, but Thorin didn't release her hand.
Sensing his hesitation Ali smiled at him and bumped his forehead with hers, "it's all good. I'll see you when you get there." Then turned and followed Bard out from under the house.
That had been their first actual fight. Ali dusted her dress off and straitened her skirts. She was pretty sure she had even won the argument.
Trying to stay as in character as possible, Ali walked with her shoulders back, and chin held high. The villagers stared. They didn't even try to hide it. They just watched her walking past, eyes wide and mouth open. Apparently there weren't many visitors to this area. Which wasn't hard to believe, it reeked of fish and B.O., not exactly the vacation destination everyone dreamed of going to.
Under her somewhat disinterested gaze she watched the people of Laketown bustling around. Not a single person wore an un-patched jacket, and there were holes in every pair of boots. In the back of her mind Ali hoped the man that Bard gave the fish to would be willing to share with the others.
Bard's son joined them at one point, informing his father that the house was under watch in hushed tones. He glanced back at Ali, but she pretended she didn't care who he was, continuing to watch their surroundings disinterestedly. But she was super interested! Why did the Master have his house under surveillance? Was he known for smuggling dwarves? Which of these people were watching them? It seemed to her that everyone was watching, or was that because she looked out of place? All the questions and she had to pretend she didn't care. It was going to drive her insane.
When they approached his door Bard threw an apple to a couple men fishing below his home. "You can tell the Master I'm done for the night." How did Bard know they were spies?
Once inside Ali was surprised by the two girls that rushed forward, to Bard.
"Da, where have you been?" "Father! There you are. I was worried." They said at the same time before noticing Ali. She waved awkwardly as they paused, looking between herself and Bard, who offered no explanation.
"Here's something to eat, Bain, go get them." Finally able to pick her skirts up and follow Bain down the stairs to usher the dwarves in from the water. She imagined that they would be thoroughly chilled by now.
"If you speak of this to anyone, I'll rip your arms off," Dwalin smacked Bard's sons hand away when he reached out to help. "Git off me."
"Dwalin!" Ali couldn't believe how rude he was to a child. "What is wrong with you?"
Dwalin grumbled but didn't answer, instead leading the march of cold wet dwarves up the stairs. Thorin was the last up through the toilet, a fact that Ali stored away just in case she ever needed it, but knew better than to comment on right now.
"How was the swim?" Ali smiled at the grumpy King.
"Refreshing," was all he could muster apparently. "Though it wasn't so much a swim, dwarves are, for a lack of better word, terrible swimmers."
"What?" Ali brushed a piece of plant life from his coat as he wrung out his hair. "I thought dwarves excelled at everything? Tell me it isn't so!"
"We are good at many things, those things happen to also make us poor when it comes to swimming." Thorin huffed, apparently he wasn't joking around when it came to water.
"Wait now I really don't get it, what do you do that basically ensures you can't swim?"
"By my beard woman, we're a heavy race, dwarves are meant for forges and mining. Not this namby pamby flitting around in the water like some elf. We were forced to pull ourselves along by the towns support beams."
Ali couldn't help the giggle, though the look Thorin threw her said that he wished she wouldn't. Leaning in Ali gave him another light kiss, hoping that it would sort of make up for the giggle. It did.
Thorin stepped closer, circling his large hand behind the base of her head and deepened the kiss. Giving in to the temptation, Ali wrapped her arms around his neck and closed the gap between the two. Ali's heart raced, Thorin was the only man she had actually kissed before, what if she was a terrible kisser and didn't even know it?
If Ali was then Thorin didn't seem to mind. He wrapped his other arm around her waist, pinning their hips together, letting out a slight groan as he explored her mouth. Ali let her fingers work up into his hair, relishing in the way they seemed to fit together so perfectly.
Finally Ali had to pull away and breathe, shuttering when Thorin continued placing kisses across her jaw.
"Why don't you come inside before you catch a cold," Ali gasped when Thorin nipped at her neck.
A small chuckle rumbled from his chest, "I would love to come inside," Thorin pressed Ali against one of the support beams. One of his legs pushed between her knees, pinning her in place while he nipped at her collarbone. Oh sweet mother of god, they both knew that wasn't what she meant.
"Thorin," Ali tried to sound like she was warning him that the others would come looking soon, but lost her thought process.
"Thorin," Dwalin barked from the stairway, dragging angry dwarvish words from Thorin.
"We will be right up," Thorin barked, pulling them away from the beam, still muttering under his breath. "Perhaps that was for the best fuhum lukhud," Thorin sighed, "at least for now."
"What does fuhum lukhud mean?" Ali asked again as she straitened her skirts and hair.
"I will tell you when we have more time," Thorin gave her a cocky little smile.
"Fine, be that way. Geez, look what you've done. I'm wet now." Ali grumbled, glancing up to see Thorin raise an eyebrow and try and suppress a grin unsuccessfully. "That's not what I meant. Get your mind out of the gutter."
"I didn't say anything," Thorin turned her around and steered her to the door still smiling, "you're the one who was thinking it."
"You know, for a King you have a terribly dirty mind," Ali grumbled. Thorin just laughed as they entered the house.
Finally Thorin and Ali are together again :)
This is the start of better things
Thanks for reading and reviewing
Muah