The Master of Laketown is a corpulent Man who tries to hide his thinning hair by combing what remains over the middle. He greets them with what, to the casual observer, must be a genial smile that gives the image of general good humour. To someone watching as closely as Billana and the Company are, however, it is very clear that it doesn't reach his eyes. He watches them as carefully as they watch him, and Balin passes Billana to Nori with a quiet murmur as he and Thorin step forward.
The room they have been brought to is in a building which is in far better repair than much of the rest of the town, close enough to the gate to be reached quickly and easily, and thus make the Master accessible to all who try to enter the town, and that gives the impression that the place is more affluent than it really is. Sadly, for all the place is in good repair, the signs of age and wear are clear, as well as those of failing fortunes. Billana suspects that in a few more generations this town will no longer be here, abandoned in favour of places where fortunes might be made more easily. The Master's chair shows signs of worn gilt, the carvings damaged with age and use, the only thing that looks vaguely new are his robes and even those are already spotted with food and drink. He is eating when they are brought to him, a large meal that she suspects would be more than many of the families in this town will be able to put on the table. In contrast to the wealth the Master is attempting to convey in his dress and furniture, the tableware is rough wood and pottery.
"What would dwarves be doing in this part of the world?" He asks, not seeming all that interested in the answer as Balin dances around their real reason for being here by stating that they simply need to resupply and perhaps purchase a pony. "Well, that is all well and good, master dwarf," he replies, "but one must wonder where your other supplies are? For that matter, I would have to wonder why you don't already have a pony."
"We were attacked by orcs some weeks ago," Balin replies, it is truthful enough. "We were able to drive them away but not before they spooked our animals and drove them off, taking most of our supplies with them." The Master hums.
"And you say you are going to the Iron Hills?" He asks.
"To the home of our kin," Balin agrees.
The way he speaks is impressive. Nothing he says is an outright lie. With every question that the Master asks he manages to reply without really answering. It amazes her that she has ever managed to get a straight response from him at all. Billana's fascination with the way that Balin avoids the Master's enquiries, however, is tempered by the way the thin Man beside him watches the group of dwarves. His eyes run over them, looking for some evidence of falsehood, she supposes, until they land upon her. The way that he looks her over, running his eyes slowly down her and then back up once more, makes her stomach lurch and she sees Nori's hand inch towards one of the little pockets that she knows the dwarf keeps a blade hidden in. The thin Man leans close to the Master, muttering something softly in his ear and the Master's eyes turn to her, also looking her over.
"That one is no dwarf," he says abruptly, cutting Balin off mid sentence.
"My daughter," he says, not bothering to mask his irritation, "her mother was not a dwarf, but I assure you that she has dwarf blood in her veins as surely as any one of the rest of us."
The Master pulls a face, obviously trying to decide whether he believes her father's words. It's strange, still, to think of Balin that way. She imagines it will be weeks, maybe even years before it feels completely natural to think and address him as such. Balin glances back at her again, his neutral expression slipping for a moment and his eyes flickering to Nori. She nods, stepping forward and in front of Billana slightly with her arms folded tightly over her chest. Billana hears movement behind her as Balin resumes his verbal dance with the Master and she glances back to see Fili and Kili glowering in the direction of the thin Man, Bofur's hand tight about Kili's arm and Gloin restraining Fili. She wishes she were with them, even though she knows full well that Nori won't let anything happen to her, but there is nothing to be done and she has no desire to draw any more attention to herself than she already has.
"Well," the Master says finally, "I have to say that your reasons all sound plausible enough, but your condition makes me question the truth of them." Thorin snarls. "Many dwarves come with caravans to and from the Iron Hills, as you must be aware, but they never pass this close to the lake and never in such small groups since, as you have discovered, the crossing over the mountains is treacherous and orcs becoming ever more plentiful." He makes a gesture and several guards step away from the wall.
"You would deny us this?" Balin demands. "You would deny us vital supplies and your people what trade we may offer?"
"What trade do you have to offer?" The Master asks. "A few coins in exchange for food, lodging and a pony is hardly lucrative."
"What would make it more lucrative?" Thorin snaps.
"Nothing you might provide, I am sure," the Master sneers.
"Indeed?" Thorin straightens, and Billana sees Balin shift, obviously having seen something in Thorin's face that alarms him. "And if I were to tell you that I am Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, and I have come to reclaim Erebor?" The Master raises his eyebrows. "Is this the beginning to our future that you would want? Denying us that which might make us remember you with kindness in the future when the time comes to establish trade between our peoples? Think of the wealth which would flow from the mountain to the lake as we rebuild. Smaug sits upon a vast hoard and we would need supplies, for which we would pay our friends handsomely."
Billana finds herself holding her breath as she waits. There is no proof aside from their word that Thorin is who he says he is. She finds herself suddenly wishing for the wizard, she suspects that had he been with them he might have been able to smooth things with the elf king and the Master. He is well known on the west side of the Misty Mountains, there is no reason to think that he is less well known on this side of them. As it is, she cannot see what Thorin is doing, stood behind him as she is, but she assumes that he is meeting the Master's glare with one of his own. Having been on the receiving end of several such expressions, Billana is not surprised when the Master seems to shift uncomfortably, then gestures to his lackey and mutters lowly for the Man, only, to hear. The smaller male scurries off silently, with only a scowl in their direction and the Master watches the door close before turning back to Thorin.
"Perhaps your request has merit after all," he says, "I have sent Alfrid to find you a place to rest and take your ease while we negotiate the particulars of this and any future arrangements. Your companions will be fed while you share a meal with me as we talk."
"Balin will also remain," Thorin adds, "he is my chief advisor, and Ori, our scribe, as well. It would be well to record everything mentioned and agreed correctly."
The Master looks put out by this, obviously hopeful that he might use their absence or even likely demise as a way to get more than his due later. Whatever objections he might make, however, are cut off by the entry of Alfrid who is followed by a portly Man with thinning hair and a shrill voice. Evidently, this is the person who will be hosting them and he sounds none too happy about the idea. His objections are waved off somewhat callously, something the dwarves find objectionable if their mutters in Khuzdul are anything to go by. No matter how long they are here, Billana decides that between now and going into the Mountain she will try to convince Ori to continue her education in the language, she would very much like to know what they mutter when they don't want the Men or elves around them to understand.
The remaining eleven gather, reluctantly, behind Alfrid so that they can be escorted to their lodgings. Guards form up behind them making it feel more like an escort to another prison than guest quarters and Billana feels Nori nudge her until she is stood between the thief and Dwalin, all the better to keep her away from the gathered Men. Balin breaks from Thorin's side for a moment to approach her, touching their foreheads together lightly and briefly before looking at his brother.
"Watch over her," he says, not quite a request but nor is it an order.
"As if she were my own," Dwalin replies, voice just as soft.
They are taken to what might once have been a boarding house for though it is a large building it lacks the taproom that might be associated with an inn and yet the bedrooms are smaller than would be expected in a private residence. The portly Man quickly orders two young girls to begin heating water and making up beds, then begins to inform them of the rules that will apply to them while they are in residence. Breakfast is served early, the common room is theirs to use as they will so long as they do not destroy anything, as are their bedrooms. The dinning room, he tells them, is off limits unless during meal times and the family living space is in the attic and off limits entirely. Should he find any of them up there he will eject the entire Company immediately no matter that they seem to have the Master's favour. He eyes Bofur in particular with that statement, evidently having seen the wink that the hatted dwarf had directed at the older of the two girls. Baths will be provided in the three bathrooms as soon as the water becomes available. Billana isn't sure what she wants more, a bed to sleep in or a warm bath.
They disperse quickly, taking rooms for themselves and ensuring that space is set aside for Thorin, Ori and Balin. A few of them will need to share, but that is quickly solved by Fili and Kili volunteering along with Nori and Dwalin. The latter draws low whistles and cat calls from Bofur, Fili and Kili, but otherwise no one comments or asks. Ori, it is decided, will share with his eldest brother and that leaves the rest of them with a room each. The rooms don't contain much, a bed that must be large enough for two Men to share pushed against one wall, a dresser with drawers that go too high for Billana to reach and a chair of dubious soundness. It is a dim room, the window small and partially covered with a tattered lace curtain. On the opposite wall is a small fire place which has not been lit and the room carries the musty, damp smell of a place that has not been used or heated in some time.
Billana sets her pack carefully on the chair, though it is light and unlikely to bring the rickety thing crashing down. Then she hops onto the unmade bed, wandering what she will do with herself for the next little while. That question is quickly answered by a knock, before the door opens and Nori strides in.
"Come on," she says, "bath water's done and I need to get clean before that filthy bunch get there. All the lying in the Master's throne room has given me a headache." Nori grins. "Besides, they found us some clean clothes and I want first pick at it."
Billana follows rapidly, she could do with getting clean as well, and taking a nap in a fresh bed with clean skin is more appealing than the alternative.
A.N: I can't promise to post with any regularity these days, what with all the course work, but what I do get done you'll get as soon as I have it. Besides, I'm a bit addicted to all the lovely comments that come in, so keep at it. It keeps my brain from running away and sobbing because of all the maths and science I'm doing.