The one good thing that comes out of quarantine is an extra long chapter.
Disclaimer: Tolkien's world, not me
Ch 18: Small, every day deeds
The boat was roomy even with the barrels aboard. Fíli and Kíli huddled at the forward bow. The water was calm after their ride down the river. Fog slowly rolled in, encompassing the boat, blocking out the landscape. They were mostly silent, too nervous to say much.
The gentle rocking of the boat nearly put Fíli to sleep more than once. One of the times he was nearly asleep, Kíli prodded him none to gently in the side, eliciting a hiss from Fíli. Kíli looked him over worriedly, but Fíli waved him off. Kíli shrugged before pointing off to their left.
The Lonely Mountain loomed out of the mist for a brief moment. The light flashed off the snow covered peak before it disappeared back into clouds. Despite the brevity of the time that they could see it, their spirits rose. They were almost to the end of their journey.
Bard smuggled them into Lake Town with the help of some of the townsfolk. Bard's house stood near the center of the city. The paint was pealing off and the pilings were rotting. The inside of the house, however, was well taken care of. Bard's children eagerly greeted their guests, plying them with questions as only children can.
The Company settled into one of the rooms in Bard's house. For a human, the room was quite small, but for the Dwarfs there was enough space for several of them to fit comfortably.
Shooing the other's out of the room, Oin checked Kíli's wound before turning to Fíli.
"You're turn lad," he said pulling Fíli to sit down next to him, "Thorin said I should check out your ribs."
As Oin unwound the loose bandages, Fíli was mildly surprised that his uncle had noticed his pain at all. The closer they got to the mountain, the more distracted and shorter tempered Thorin was becoming. The mountain and the treasure within were Thorin's only focus now, nothing else mattered.
"Some of these have shifted," Oin tutted as he gently probed Fíli's ribs. Fíli saw as well as felt the bones moving under his skin, scraping against each other.
"No kidding," Fíli snorted, voice taut with pain.
Oin tighly re-bound the cloth around Fíli's chest. With his ribs re-bound, Fíli wandered back out into the main part of the house. Most of the Company was gathered around the kitchen table. On the table lay an odd assortment of rusted tools: a few shoves, a broken pickaxe, and something with a chain so rusted that is disintegrated in Nori's hands.
"What are these supposed to be?" Thorin asked hefting one of the shoves in his hands.
"Weapons," Bard responded.
"Weapons? These aren't weapons!" Dwalin snarled, taking a threatening step forward. Bard pushed his children behind him before answering.
"The Master has forbidden anyone outside of the City Guard to own, use or train with any weapon of any kind. You're lucky I have this much."
"We can't defend ourselves with any of this," Dwalin argued back.
"That's the point," Bard snapped, closing his eyes in a resigned manner, "Fine. If you stay here, I will see if I can find something different."
He left without another word, shooting dark glances at the Company. Hours dragged by and still he hadn't returned. Some in the Company began grumbling that he was selling them out to the Master. Finally, Thorin had enough. He decided that they were going to find weapons on their own.
Fíli was forced to stay behind because of his broken ribs and bad leg. Thorin had told him in no uncertain terms that he would remain at Bard's house until they returned with weapons. To Fíli's frustration, Kíli was allowed to go despite his injured leg.
Oin and Bombur stayed back with him as well. Oin said he was too old of such shenanigans and Bombur felt that stealth was not his strong suit. They tried talking with Bard's children, but soon they all lapsed into uncomfortable silence. Not a half an hour later, a commotion out on the streets, drew their attention. Peering out the window, Fíli was horrified to see the rest of the Company being manhandled down the narrow street.
Without a second though, he raced out of the house with a shout. The guards were startled, but managed to grab Fíli as he limped towards the other. He was shoved in line next to Dori who quietly told him what had happened.
They had broken into the armory successfully. However, before they could get out, Kíli had tripped, toppling a rack of swords and alerting the guards to their presence. Looking over at his brother, Fíli could see that Kíli was highly embarrassed and limping more than he had been.
The soon arrived at their destination, the grand house in the center of the town. It was brightly painted and twice and tall as all the other buildings. On the enormous wraparound porch, stood a short man. The man was the only one Fíli had seen in Lake Town who was overweight. His brightly colored clothes were garish colors and stained with grease. The guards stiffly bowed to him. The Master peered down at them from where he stood. He sniffed disdainfully before turning to the crowd that had gathered.
"Good people, this is what I protect you from. These Dwarfs are here to incite war! I have learned that they are escaped prisoners of our ally King Thranduil of Mirkwood-"
"We were wrongfully waylaid," Thorin interrupted.
"And who exactly are you supposed to be?" the Master sneered.
"I am Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King Under the Mountain. I have returned!" Thorin's deep voice carried far in the cold air. The crowd murmured amongst themselves. The Master looked unsettled at Thorin's declaration.
"We have come to reclaim what is ours. If you aid us, I promise that when we succeed, you will be greatly rewarded. For when we succeed, the rivers will flow with gold once more and this town will be made rich again like it was of old!" Thorin's voice was drown out by the cheering crowd. The Master seemed especially intrigued.
"And what about the dragon that sleeps in that mountain? If you wake that beast, you will be the death of us all," Bard called, pushing his way to the front of the crowd. Thorin went to answer, but the Master was faster.
"Ever were you the nay-sayer, Bard son of Bayris. Let us not forget that it was your ancestor Girion, Lord of Dale, who failed to slay the dragon when he first appeared. You would have us turn down this chance to enlarge our prosperity?" the Master turned to Thorin.
"You promise us a share of the wealth if we help you?"
"I give you my word," Thorin said, nodding head slightly.
"Then I say to you on behalf of Lake Town: Well met and thrice welcome! Come, we must eat and make plans!"
The crowd cheered loudly as they were ushered inside the Master's Halls. Fíli caught Bard's eye. The look of betrayal and resignation there made him feel sick. Bard knew just as well as Fíli that things would only go downhill from here. If they didn't defeat the dragon, the whole town would burn. If they did defeat the dragon, which Fíli though was unlikely, Thorin wouldn't likely be parted with any of the gold in that mountain.
The night was spent feasting and preparing for the Company to leave the next morning. Fíli noticed with worry that Kíli was slowly getting worse. He was pale and sweating, occasionally racked with tremors. More than once Fíli had seen him sink into the nearest seat to rest his leg. He knew that the wound should be bothering him, but something felt wrong. He didn't think anything of it until midmorning the next day.
They were loading the boats that the Master of Lake Town had gifted them. Fíli was helping situated the supplies in the boat because his broken ribs wouldn't let him do much else without great pain. Kíli was just about to join him, when it Thorin stopped him.
"Not you Kíli, you're staying here," Thorin said, sticking out an arm and preventing Kíli from leaving the docks. Kíli looked at Thorin confused.
"What? Uncle, why?" Fíli was aghast. Reclaiming the Mountain was something they had dreamed about since they were Dwarflings and Thorin knew it.
"Because he is injured. I will not risk the quest for one Dwarf, even my own kin. One day, Fíli you will be king and you will understand," came Thorin's almost board response. Kíli's shoulders slumped in defeat and his face was crestfallen. As a testament to how awful he felt, he offered no protest to Thorin's callus command. Fili felt the indigent rage building up inside of him reach critical mass at the sight of his brother's downcast face.
"Fine," he hissed, "He stays, I stay." Fíli went to climb out of the boat, but Thorin caught hold of his arm and wouldn't let go until Fili turned to face him.
"Fíli, do not rashly throw this chance away for-"
"I would throw away everything for my brother. My place is by his side. We go together or not at all," Fíli's voice was dangerously low, his blue eyes narrowed. The others looked on in shock as Fíli, the most levelheaded of the group besides Balin, lost it with Thorin.
"Fíli, as my heir, you-"
"Well maybe I don't want to be your heir!" Fíli jerked his arm out of Thorin's grip and climbed out of the boat. Thorin watched him dark, sad eyes before turning his back to his nephews. Kíli tried to push Fíli back into the boat. However, he lacked the strength to do so and ended up clinging to Fíli's tunic to remain standing.
"Don't throw away this for me. You deserve to be there. I know what this means to you," Kíli pointed out. Fíli hesitated for a moment. It was true, reclaiming Erebor had been a childhood dream for him. But the more he thought about it, he didn't want to go without his brother. Setting his shoulders, he made his final decision.
"No nadad, you are worth more than all the treasure in Erebor," Fíli said, bumping heads with Kíli. Kíli's small grin quickly turned to a grimace as his leg buckled. With his bad leg and broken ribs, Fíli couldn't support all of his brother's weight. Before they were both pulled down to the dock, someone was on Kíli's other side propping him up. Fíli was not the least bit surprised to see Oin had climbed out of the boat to join them.
"Might as well stay with you young'uns, seeing how you're both injured," he said, but not without wistful glances back toward the boat. They watched as the boat pulled out of sight.
"Did you miss the boat as well?" A voice behind them asked. They turned to find Bofur puffing and panting behind them. In all the commotion, Fíli hadn't even realized that he wasn't on the boat.
"No, Thorin wouldn't let Kíli go, so Oin and I stayed," Fíli scowled as he explained.
"Ah…" was the only thing Bofur could say. He looked like he was going to say more, but thought better of it. They were interrupted by a low moan of pain from Kíli. The dark-haired Dwarf had gone ashen as he gripped his wounded leg.
"Kíli?" Fíli felt worry choke his voice.
"Burns, Fee, it burns," was all they could get out of the semi-conscious Dwarf. They made their way back to the Master's Halls. However, the guards refused to let them. They wandered around the town, asking anyone who would listen for help, but each and every time, they were turned away. And so it was that quite without planning the four Dwarfs found themselves at Bard's front door. The bargeman opened the door partially, scowling at them.
"No, I'm done with Dwarfs for a lifetime," Bard went to shut the door in their face, but Fíli stuck his foot in the way. He knew this was Kíli's last chance and he wasn't about to let it slip away.
"Please, you have to help us. My brother is sick, really sick," Fíli pleaded. Bard hesitated. He finally gave a long-suffering sigh and opened the door to let them in.
Translations:
Nadad - brother (Khuzdul)