Chapter XXVIII: Esgaroth upon the Long Lake
When Sophie had been much younger, and more confident and naïve (as most children are) than she ever was since arriving to Middle Earth, she was often reminded by her brother with a certain degree of affection on the dangers of speaking to strangers. Whether they were walking down the narrow streets of Diagon Alley, or navigating their way around King's Cross Station, each moment was an opportunity for Jesse to remind her.
"Don't talk to people you don't know, sis. Remember, one day I might not be able to be beside you. So it's best to just stay away from trouble until trouble finds you."
That had always been Jesse's favorite opening phrase whenever he wanted to explain to his baby sister about the reality of the real world. Now over a decade later, the young witch wondered whether any of her brother's warnings could have prepared her for the quest she had agreed to embark on with the dwarves, as she stood staring up at the tall man named Bard by the river.
Balin regarded the bowman hopefully as he took a second glance at the humble but sturdy boat floating behind him. He stepped closer to where Bard was standing, his arms flung up in the air in a submissive manner to show he meant no harm.
"Excuse me, sir. But you are from Laketown, if I am not mistaken?" The old dwarf asked politely.
After a moment, Bard reluctantly lowered his bow and gave a curt nod. Sophie recalled the familiar name from her memory. Laketown – Esgaroth upon the Long Lake was what the merchants at the village she used to visit called the dwelling. Many of them had described to her (as they purchased Radagast's herbs) about the misfortunes the villagers of Laketown endured over a hundred years ago:
"Aye, Laketown was once a place of beauty and plenty….You would have never seen the likes of it, milady. We merchants used to pass the place often, for business there was always booming. That is of course, before the attack of the dragon. The city never fully recovered after that accident, but nothing can be the same when one has been scorched by dragon fire."
She could only imagine the damage Smaug could have brought on the poor people of Laketown and she pitied them as much she did for what happened to the dwarves of Erebor.
Balin continued to question Bard as he edged a little closer, "That boat over there," he said as he pointed to the rather weather-beaten vessel floating behind the bowman, "It wouldn't be available for hire by any chance?"
Bard seemed almost as though he was taken aback by the old dwarf's question and he frowned deeply.
"Who are you?" he asked suspiciously.
"We are simple merchants from the Blue Mountains," Balin maintained his light and conversational tone as he calmly answered the man's interrogation.
Unconvinced, Bard lifted his eyebrows at Sophie.
"And the witch? She is not of your race – she is closer to men. Do you think that I will believe your false tales that she is also from the Iron Hills like you dwarves?" The bowman challenged.
"Sophie is part of my company. Where she is from is none of your concern," Thorin spoke for the first time as he stepped in front of the young witch protectively.
"What makes you think that I will help you?" The distrust was obvious in the bowman's voice as he questioned the company's motives.
"No doubt you have some hungry mouths to feed…How many bearings?" Balin soothed, trying to keep the atmosphere friendly and civilized.
"A boy and two girls," Bard's face momentarily softened as he thought of his children.
"And your wife, I imagine she's a beauty?"
At that question, Bard paused for a long moment before answering in a distant voice, "Aye…she was."
There was an awkward silence that followed, for nobody, not even Balin quite knew how to respond to such a dreadful statement. Bard ignored the company members' solemnness as he began lifting up and carrying the abandoned barrels. He ran his palm over the scratched and chipped wooden containers, now placed neatly inside the boat.
"These barrels are from Mirkwood. I can recognize their design," Bard murmured in a low voice, almost as though he was confirming this discovery to nobody but himself.
"What of it?" Thorin asked in a weary voice.
"I don't know what business you had with the elves, but I do not think that it ended well," the bowman answered with a shrug.
Bard stood where he was, as if to challenge the company members. His moving gaze halted in front of Sophie, who was squinting hard to see properly without her glasses.
"Why is she frowning at me like that?" Bard asked curiously as he bowed his head at the young witch.
"I cannot see anything, that is why," Sophie answered, her eyes still in a tight squint, "I lost my glasses in the river. We were being hunted by orcs."
"Sophie needs to find a replacement for her glasses. We also need food, supplies, and weapons. Can you help us?" Thorin asked.
Bard continued to stare at Sophie as he contemplated whether he should aid Thorin and his company. His eyes travelled around to each of the company members, slowly taking in Bilbo's worried expression and Kili's injured thigh. The bowman's face unstiffened for a few seconds as he watched the young witch trying everything she could to improve her eyesight (he even appeared slightly amused). Eventually Bard made up his mind and he looked down at the dwarf King who was standing a few feet away.
"Aye, I shall help you and your group. But for that, you must pay me in gold," he said unsmiling.
The deal was quickly consummated and one by one, the company members began climbing into Bard's small but sufficient boat. Only after everyone was aboard and Bard began rowing slowly out further across the lake, did Sophie let out a small sigh of relief. They had managed to escape from the orcs who were chasing them for the time being, and the young witch prayed that it would stay like that.
The air surrounding the company members had fallen in temperature dramatically as Bard rowed his boat further out across the lake. Thorin and Dwalin stood not far from the edge, talking to each other in low voices and occasionally shooting suspicious looks towards Bard, who swiftly overlooked them. Their hot breaths instantaneously transformed to swirls of white fog as they froze in the cool air. Sophie crept over to where Bilbo was sitting on one of the barrels, her hands always touching the edge of the boat in case she tripped.
"Bilbo," she said to the hobbit who smiled and shifted over to the left a bit to allow the young witch to sit down as well.
"I wanted to thank you for saving us all at Mirkwood, twice. You were the one who knew spiders could be defeated with bright light, and Thorin told me about how you stole the keys when we were taken away by Thranduil's guards. You truly are a brave hobbit, Bilbo Baggins," Sophie said.
Bilbo blushed slightly at the young witch's compliment and he coughed exaggeratedly a couple of times.
"Really, it was nothing," he said, though he could not remove the grin from his rosy face.
"Anyway, why did Thranduil lock you up in a different part of the palace? What did he want from you?" Bilbo pressed the young witch with the question.
Sophie stiffened as she replayed the memory in her mind of Thranduil standing over his sleeping wife. She could still picture very clearly the beautiful and flawless features that rested on the she-elf's pale corpse. For some reason or another (Sophie could not tell why), the image of the sleeping Queen seemed too private and a secret of Thranduil's that the young witch felt she could not share with to anyone, despite how much she disliked the elven King. She did not even confine to Thorin, and was in no hurry to do so.
So instead, Sophie shrugged at Bilbo and replied, "Thranduil seemed to find the fact that I was a witch quite an entertainment. I think he wanted to experiment with my powers further."
Bilbo nodded with satisfaction at her answer and gazed out into the distance. Sophie on the other hand looked down at her feet dangling in the air (when sitting on the barrels, her feet did not reach the floor), feeling rather guilty and embarrassed for telling a white lie to her innocent friend. Jesse had told her that liars were cowards who hid behind fabricated words, and the thought that she may have disappointed her brother saddened Sophie. A few more minutes passed by when Bilbo gave the young witch a little nudge with his elbow.
"Sophie, look!" the hobbit cried excitedly as he pointed towards the fog Bard was driving the boat into.
Sophie frowned – she could see nothing but a grey mess.
"Um….what exactly am I supposed to be looking at?" She asked, squinting hard as she tried to make out the blurry forms.
"Erebor; the Lonely Mountains," a deep and baritone voice spoke behind the two figures.
Thorin walked over and stopped next to Sophie. He gave the young witch's arm a slight squeeze when Bilbo was not looking (for he was too preoccupied with the view of the tall mountains), his eyes were full of emotion.
At that moment, Bard left the steering rod and walked over towards the company members. He stretched his arm out to Balin who was busy counting out the coins that were going to be used as payment.
"The money. Quick, give it to me," the bowman spoke urgently.
"We will pay you once we get our provisions, but not before," Thorin spoke authoritatively.
Bard looked at the dwarf King straight in the eye. His expression indicated to everyone that he was in no way going to be a push-over.
"If you value your freedom, you shall do as I say," he spoke coolly.
With that, Bard stared straight ahead. When the company members followed the bowman's gaze, they were all silently surprised and even thrown into slight awe. Until now, their surroundings had been mostly concealed by the thick fog. But as the weather took a sharp turn and the fog lifted, the company could all see very clearly ahead of them an entire city. The whole place seemed to be floating in the middle of the lake, and no questions were needed to be asked to confirm that Bard had driven his boat and its passengers to the edge of Laketown.
Thorin understood now that Bard was right – if he and his company had any chance of passing through the city's borders, they would need all the help they could get from the bowman. The dwarf King was in no way happy with their situation, but there was not much he could do about it. Grimly, he signaled to Balin to pay the due gold.
"What is your plan, then?" Thorin asked Bard once the payment was made.
Bard slipped the coins into his front pocket before looking down at the dwarves in front of him. He pointed at the barrels Sophie and Bilbo were both perched on, which had originally carried the company members down the river.
"The master of Laketown does not take down well to newcomers. So, I intend to smuggle you all in. With a bit of luck we may be successful," he answered.
None of the company members were too thrilled at the idea of crouching inside the barrels again, but nobody had any better plan. Sophie and Bilbo watched as the dwarves began climbing into the wooden tubs. Both figures realized early on that they were one barrel short, since Bilbo did not come down the river inside one.
"You go on in, Sophie," Bilbo said, clucking over the young witch like a mother hen.
"No, I can't do that. What about you?" Sophie asked in genuine fear for the hobbit.
Suddenly she felt a warm hand tuck itself around her own.
Thorin nodded at Bilbo and spoke in a firm voice, "Do not worry, Master Baggins. I shall look after Sophie - You can climb into that barrel."
There was much reassurance in the dwarf King's words. Bilbo followed the company leader's order and slipped his body into the free container. Thorin rubbed his thumb over the back of Sophie's hand gently in a small circle as he led her to his own barrel.
"Stay with me," he said to the young witch softly as he helped her to climb in.
The two figures could both fit inside the large wooden barrel quite comfortably, however that did not mean that their bodies were now very close to each other. Although Sophie felt nervous inside (for many different reasons), she was less frightened than she had been when they were escaping out of the Woodland realm, now that she could definitely sense Thorin's presence.
Thorin silently buried his face in the young witch's hair and closed his eyes. His and his men's fate were now in the hands of the all-knowing Mahal. As Bard rowed his boat closer to the docks of Laketown, the dwarf King found himself praying silently to the great Valar to watch over them with mercy and kindness.
