Bard, which is the name that the Man gives them once he recovers from his shock at an encounter with a talking wolf, is upset. Perhaps understandably so given that the barrels he is here to collect are early and short four in number with the addition of twelve dwarves, their tame raven and impossible wolf. Billana doesn't think he would react to well to learning that she and Kili are not, in fact, that creatures that they currently appear to be. Balin quickly takes over the task of negotiating when he realises that Bard will need more careful handling than Thorin is usually inclined towards. Even then, the offer of a significant amount of coin is needed before Bard can be convinced to let them all board the barge, he isn't happy with the thought of smuggling the dwarves into Laketown. In truth, the dwarves are no less unhappy about the need for it and it isn't until Billana points out that they have all of their belongings and weapons and that they really only need supplies that it occurs to any of them at all that there might be another way. The twins had advised that they avoid the place, but that had been when they would have had ample supplies waiting for them.
"There is a bridge into the town, is there not?" Balin asks and Bard nods, although his bearing is wary. "Maybe you could be persuaded to take us there, perhaps leave us a short walk away so that we could enter Laketown by more official means. I'm sure the coin from the simple task of ferrying us a short distance will more than cover the loss of the four barrels which did not arrive with us." Bard seems to consider it.
"You will not find a warm welcome in Laketown, Master Dwarf," he says. "Regardless of how good your gold is. Especially not with a wolf in tow." He gestures to Billana who has come closer
"Oh, you needn't worry about that," Billana laughs and he moves away from her. "They'll hardly notice me, though I thank you for your concern."
"Outsiders are regarded with suspicion," he insists, "but if that is the course you wish to take I will move you closer and accept your coin for it."
The others quickly move to help the Man load his barrels, not wanting to remain where they are any longer than they really need to. Thorin, however, summons Kili and Billana to him before they can begin the process of changing back.
"Go and investigate the town," he orders, "we will wait on the shore until you return. I will not walk blindly into another trap."
"Yes, Thorin," Billana replies, noting Bard watching them with sharp eyes.
The suspicion of the Man worries her, though she doesn't blame him, and she trots a short distance away so that she can once again take the form of a raven. It isn't as easy as it should be, a combination of being tired from a poor night and too much magic used over the last few weeks. The only shift she intends to make after this is the one back to her own shape. If Thorin wants any other investigating done then Nori will have to be the one to do it. She has to be more than capable, after all.
The flight to the wooden town doesn't take as long as she had thought it might, and yet is still longer than she would like. What she sees upon arriving immediately makes her wonder if they wouldn't have been better off in Thranduil's dungeons. Wood, of course, is the best building material for a town that sits upon a lake. To Billana, who only really swims as a otter and rarely takes that form anyway, this is an unfathomable idea. Wood floats, but when it gets wet it also rots and signs of rot and wear are everywhere. What passes for streets are narrow, boarded walkways that open into the occasional larger square, which are still smaller than those Billana saw in many of the Mannish towns they stopped in to resupply during the early days of their journey. There is little sign of gathering in these open places, in fact there is no sign of any sort of market at all. Much of Billana's shopping is done at market, and even in Mannish towns there are those who operate out of wagons and stalls rather than shops; farmers and travelling tradesmen who bring their goods and sell for only a short time each week. There is no sign of anything like that here, in fact the open areas seem too small for any such arrangement.
Steam rises from some of the roofs in clouds, smoke pouring from the chimneys and these buildings are in better repair, though they still show greater signs of wear and little care, than the rest which have only thin streams if smoke or none at all in their chimneys. The people who rush from one building to the next are thin, for the most part, with clothes that seem to be more layers of rags than anything that may once have been trousers or a dress. Some are dressed in clothes of better quality, indeed Bard's clothes may have been in need of repair or replacement soon but they are still in better condition than many of the rest, and the presence of town guards is heavy and clear given the quality of their garments. These guards march about the town, ducking into the shops which seem more prevalent than market stalls, poking, prodding and examining everything they come across. Their loud words and brash questions show that they know little about that which they are investigating, but no one among the general population calls them on their ignorance. Bridges arch over water ways and these are filled with narrow boats far smaller than the barge Bard is using to bring the dwarves to the bridge, able to hold maybe four people at a push, and they use poles to push them forwards rather than oars, though they have those in the bottom.
Erebor dominates the skyline to the north, though even Billana can tell that it is still many days journey away, and whenever the people of the lake look at it they will turn sharply away with a muttered curse and a whisper. They fear the mountain still, though the dragon has not been seen in sixty years, and she supposes more than a century living with the threat of the great beast before he went quite would be enough to instil fear in anyone. Men, certainly, do not live as long as dwarves or elves, even hobbits have a slightly longer span of life. Men, she knows, are often lucky to reach their sixtieth year, though she has heard that the Men of Gondor and the lost realm of Arnor were longer lived than hobbits. These, however, she rather suspects will be as short lived as the Men of Bree and perhaps that is better for them. This is a miserable place and Billana knows enough of being miserable in her existence to know that wishing a dozen decades or more of it upon a person is cruel.
Kili taps her with his beak and tilts his head in the direction of the bridge, a rickety wooden thing that looks as though a strong breeze will have it in the water, and she understands. They have seen and heard enough. The people here are suspicious of their own neighbours, downtrodden and firmly under the squeezing fist of the Master of this place. The Company will find no welcome here, even with their coin, and though they have no choice but to purchase what supplies they may, they should do so as quickly and quietly as possible. Announcing their presence would be unwise, yet Billana has a sinking feeling that it may be the only way to get out of this place once they are upon it.
The others are waiting, Bard long gone having departed with dire warnings, and Billana and Kili are quick to change back and dress. Her clothes are not made for this climate, though it is only autumn. In fact, it is the day before her birthday, a detail she had discovered by listening to several conversations while exploring the town. Even if they did not need to get food, however, they would need to find something warmer for Billana to wear. Dwarves run hot and it will be some time until they feel the cold as much as Billana is, but the time in Mirkwood and Thranduil's dungeon's have affected her sense of the seasons and distance. She would have thought it later in the year still had she not learnt the date. Fili sees that she is shivering, even with her clothes on, and pulls her close enough to wrap her in his arms, his coat is, as always, held closed by the straps which he uses to carry his swords and she wishes that she could unbuckle them so that she could burrow inside and warm herself properly.
Kili is already reporting their findings to Thorin, his tone distant and dispassionate in a way she has never associated with him. His eyes and the occasional shift of his face, however, show how tightly he is keeping control on his emotions. Laketown is a miserable place, the people there are suffering for their location and the greed of their leaders. Supplies will be expensive and ponies almost impossible to come by, they will not be riding to Erebor although they may be able to purchase one or two ponies to carry the necessary food. This version of Kili is one that Billana has always seen lingering beneath the surface. He is cheerful enough, mischievous and bright, loyal and loving, open and warm much of the time, but there have been occasions where Billana has seen that perhaps all of that is a simple facade in the moment. The illusion that he is a careless and foolish princling to hide a mind that is far sharper than he would have others believe. Kili has, in fact, picked up on a lot of information that Billana might have missed or not thought to look for. Many of the others seem surprised by this side of the young prince, and perhaps with good reason, but Billana can feel Fili almost trembling and when she looks up at him she can see the pride on his face shining as brightly as the summer sun. This is the little brother he has wanted the world to know and see, she realises, and perhaps he has chafed at the shackles Thorin's need orders have placed upon Kili as much as his brother. Kili deserves to be seen like this, to be known like this, has longed to be this, Billana knows it as surely as Fili likely always has.
"Perhaps it would be best if we did not all go in," Balin suggests. "One or two dwarves will draw less attention than fourteen."
"We need somewhere warm to rest," Fili says before Thorin can agree with the plan. "We all have minor injuries that need tending to properly before we move on, Billana is freezing and needs something warmer to wear, and we have over a month until Durin's day."
"Weeks spent waiting in the ruins of Dale will not be of benefit to any of us," Thorin growls, "and it would not do to allow one marked as Khazad bâhâl to freeze. Not only would it reflect poorly upon us, it would prevent her from doing the task which we recruited her for." Fili looks vaguely mutinous at that reminder but wisely holds his tongue. "Better that we all go in together and see what we may find."
"And if they detain us?" Balin enquires. "From Kili's report that doesn't seem outside of the realms of possibility."
There is a moment of silence.
"We will bridge the chasm when we reach it," Thorin replies. "Though if the greed of this Master is as great as Kili suggests, I suspect he will aid us should we tell him our intentions."
Fili grumbles something under his breath that even Billana cannot quite make out and she gives him a warning look. They both know how far off course Thorin's overconfidence has taken them already.
"In which case," Balin sighs, "there is something I would like to do before we enter the place." He turns his attention to Billana, approaching her with his hands held in front of him. "Billana Took, though you are no longer truly a child and likely without need or desire for a father, I would like to ask your permission to take you into my family as a daughter. I claimed you for my own child before the elves of Mirkwood and one I consider an old and dear friend. I would like to make that claim official, name you my true daughter and heir to all I have now and all I ever will have. Long have you been a child of my heart," he takes a small knife from his belt and draws the blade lightly across his palm, "I ask now to make you a daughter of my blood. Will you accept?"
A.N: He finally got to the point. I've been wanting Balin to do this since Beorn's.