Chapter 30.
I'm still amazed that we made it this far and that the story will still go on and I'm still enjoying this as much as writing the first chapter. You guys keep me going, it's just amazing.
Before we start, I just gotta comment on Nalbal's wonderful review to the last chapter because it literally had me crying with laughter and I kept on imagining a stark naked Kíli flinging himself at his brother and a very embarrassed Hobbit, trying to cover his manhood. So uhm… I'm laughing again right now… no I don't think he was naked. I think he still had one of those pretty onesies on that dwarves have as underwear. Still beautiful images in my head now, thank you Nalbal. Honestly, thank you :D
Onto the strange cloaked fella then!
Uploads will remain irregular I'm afraid until the next weekend so bear with me please. Thanks for all the reviews and faves and likes and everything, you guys are brilliant!
"Master Dwarf! Would you like some sweet nibbles?"
"Master Dwarf! A piece of cake maybe?"
"Master Dwarf! Need your blades sharpened?"
The brothers walked along the narrow streets of Lake-Town bewildered. Wherever they went, the people greeted them with kindness and generosity and they were offered services of all kinds, some making their mouths water, some making them blush badly. They were used to this kind of hospitality from the various taverns of Thorin's Halls but ever since they had set off on this quest, their encounters with the other races of Middle Earth had been a little less friendly. Whilst the rest of the company stayed close by Thorin's side, careful and a little wary, the two youngsters had soon wandered off and explored the town by themselves. The swaying ground fascinated them, as well as the constant low splashing of the waves against the pillars. Usually, the little hobbit was found in their company.
That particular day however, Thorin had requested Bilbo's attendance at a little meeting he held with Balin and Dwalin, discussing their journey to Erebor and the steps they needed to take from there on, thus the boys walked the busy streets on their own, peering into various shops, admiring the goods on the market and glancing at the beautiful colours and carvings of Lake-Town.
"Master Dwarf", another voice once again bellowed and the boys turned around, curious as to what was offered to them this time. "Would you like to join us for a little competition?"
It was a young fella of merely 15 years that looked at them questioningly. Considering that the two youngsters, had they been born as Men instead of Dwarves, would not be much older than the lad, he of course spiked their interest.
"What competition?", Kíli asked.
"Archery", the boy grinned, displaying a chipped front tooth that made him look incredibly cheeky. Kíli began to beam like a child on Durin's Day.
"I'm in!" he declared and grabbed Fíli's arm to pull his brother along with him. They followed the boy to one of the outer piers where a small fair had been set up. All sorts of booths were lined along the waterfront. Some offered various shooting exercises, others challenged the players skills and patience and then there were pie eating contests and a booth with candies had been set up as well. The young dwarves watched in awe for they knew none of this from home.
"This way, Master Dwarf! That's the shooting range!" the boy hurried them on and Kíli broke into a bright grin when he spotted four different targets at the end of the pier. Fíli, not too fazed by all the archery hassle for he was bad at shooting arrows anywhere, settled down on one of the pillars and was quickly offered a little something to eat, which he gladly accepted.
"So, what's the competition then?" Kíli asked. He stood surrounded by three boys now, all about the same age as the one who had invited them.
"You need to shoot all four targets in a row and you have to hit the centre every time", the boy explained. "Should you manage, we will buy you lunch."
"And should I not?" the dwarf asked, eyeing the targets, already looking forward to a large, free lunch.
"Then you buy us lunch!"
Fíli chuckled and shifted a little on his spot, curiously watching his brother bragging about his archery skills while he drew his bow. The boys eyed the bow curiously, for it was much smaller and thicker than their own and obviously fitted to a dwarven size.
The first arrow neatly hit the target and Fíli applauded, a candied almond between his lips. The second arrow hit as well, just like the third one and the boys began to sweat and to count their coins for they had been told that there were no archers amongst dwarves and it had been their bad luck to pick the only one that was actually skilled with a bow and arrows.
Kíli stood before the fourth target, pulling the arrow back and tightening the bowstring. He closed one eye as he took aim, let go and the arrow flew smoothly through the air, aiming right at the centre of the target. It was then, that a larger, much darker arrow bolted past Kíli's head, sending the dark locks flying and it easily cut off the smaller, more slender arrow and whilst Kíli's arrow toppled to the ground, the large dark arrow stuck straight in the centre of the target.
The youngster spun around furiously to find a man standing on a roof ridge not far behind them. He was not much older than 30, had dark hair and a rather stern face, though his grey eyes glistened mischievously. Fíli raised his eyebrows at his sudden appearance and hoppled off the pillar to join his brother and possibly hold him back, should he get himself into trouble.
"You ruined my score!" Kíli shouted up to him.
"I apologize, Master Dwarf", the man replied, his voice hoarse and not too deep and a small smirk played on his lips. "I could not resist."
He jumped off the roof, a large, beautifully engraved bow clutched securely in one hand and approached the dwarves without hesitation, though Kíli huffed and puffed himself up.
"Has anyone ever told you that you look like an angry little sparrow when you do that?" the man casually asked, offending Kíli even more.
"My lord, I must ask you to refrain from flouting my brother any further, otherwise I'm afraid he might bite your kneecap off", Fíli explained calmly, trying not to grin, for Kíli did look a little like a fluffed up fowl.
"My apologies again", the man replied, bowing before the brothers.
"What's your name?" Fíli asked while Kíli mumbled various colourful insults under his breath.
"The name is Bard", the man introduced himself. "And I need not ask your names for I know who you are. The two Princes of Durin's line."
The young boys that had dragged them to the pier suddenly grew very pale for none of them had known that they had challenged royalty to a duel. They began apologizing instantly, but Kíli waved it off and gave them some coins to buy their well-deserved lunch. When they stared at him in surprise, he merely shrugged.
"I lost, didn't I? Even though it wasn't my fault", he glared at Bard, who didn't seem too fazed however. "Enjoy your meals."
At that, the boys scurried off, leaving the two dwarves and the man on the pier.
"You are a skilled archer, Master Dwarf", Bard complimented Kíli.
"I know", the youngster replied disgruntled and plain and was quickly nudged in the ribs by his brother. Fíli eyed the man curiously and noticed his rather run down clothes, mainly made from brown linen and a little leather, even though the dark bow in his hand was made from fine ebony and so fondly ornamented, that it must have cost a fortune.
"You don't belong to the nobility of this town, I suppose?", he asked frankly, making Bard chuckle a little.
"By no means, no, my Lord. I'm nothing but an archer and guard of the town", he bowed once more. "I heard you are going to reclaim your homeland after all?"
"We are indeed", Fíli replied, smiling proudly. "It's been in the claws of the dragon for far too long already."
"If the dragon is there anymore at all", Kíli casually added and both youngsters fell silent at the surprised expression of the man.
"Why do you believe that the dragon might not be there anymore?", Bard asked, looking from one to the next questioningly.
"Well, because- because he hasn't been seen for sixty years", Kíli replied, suddenly unsure if they might have been misinformed.
"True that", Bard nodded. "Nobody has seen him leave either however. Should the rumours about the great treasure of the old King under the Mountain be true, then I don't believe the dragon would give it up in his lifetime."
"They are true", Fíli mumbled and his shoulders dropped a little. He had been torn ever since they had ventured out on this quest, for even though he was afraid of the dragon and would have preferred it if the beast was long gone upon their arrival, he had also been curious as to what Smaug might look like, for he had never seen a real dragon before.
"Well in that case I'd say there is a good chance that he is still in there, sitting on a pile of gold", Bard remarked casually, leaning onto his bow and Kíli began to dislike him more and more.
"What happened to Dale?" Fíli asked, ignoring the miffed glances from his brother, while he searched for more poppy seeds in the pouch he had been given by the elves.
"It has never been rebuilt", Bard replied, watching the youngster curiously. "The Men of Lake-Town are afraid for it is too close to the mountain. They don't dare to set a foot in it, although I believe rebuilding it won't be too difficult after all."
"Have you seen it since?"
"I have, yes. I travel to the mountain sometimes to see if anything stirs in there. Most of the buildings of Dale have been burned down to the ground but a lot is still standing. Lake-Town was built in its stead, securely on the water to make an attack by Smaug more difficult", the man explained and seemed to doubt the original plan of the people of Lake-Town just as much as Bilbo had done.
Fíli gazed across the lake and to Erebor, his brows furrowed thoughtfully. He started to wonder whether their quest could be accomplished with so little people after all and whether Thorin had maybe relied too much on the dragon being gone already.
"Anyways", Bard's voice pulled him away from his daydreaming. "I wish you luck on your quest. I'm sure the Men of Lake-Town will be most grateful if you slew the dragon."
He departed with a little wave of his hand but before he could disappear around the corner, Kíli's challenging "Oi, Bowman!" made him look over his shoulder.
"Tomorrow by midday, right here! I challenge you to a duel!", the dwarf declared and Fíli rolled his eyes at his brother's childish attire.
"Very well, Master Dwarf", Bard smirked. "Very well."
Kíli spent the following days in deep frustration. The little tournament against Bard had neither been spectacular, nor particularly long and they both soon had to realise that they were on par in archery, for they both hit the targets spot on and never missed a shot. Whilst Bard had been quite content with the result, Kíli had gone into sulking mode and barely spoke to anyone, except for his brother and occasionally Bilbo, who tried to lure the youngster out of his shell with various alcoholic beverages.
The company stayed in Esgaroth for more than two weeks, recovering and regaining their strength and while Thorin studied the map over and over again and Balin worried about Durin's Day coming closer and closer, for the air had grown colder and a chill breeze came down from the Grey Mountains, the remaining dwarves were merry and cheerful. Dori and Ori spent most of their days wandering from shop to shop, apologizing and returning goods that Nori had previously stolen. Bofur, Bifur and Bombur marvelled on the wonderful food and ale, often joined by Dwalin who was tired of Thorin's pondering and Óin and Glóin enjoyed the peace and quietness. Occasionally, the dwarves would sit together in an Inn or by the market and whittle and forge from wood and stone and sell their figurines and weapons to the People of Dale, who happily accepted them and paid some good prize for them.
Fíli and Kíli spent every evening by the border of Lake-Town and they watched Erebor in the distance, smoking their pipes. Bilbo, who was still fascinated by the yearning of the youngsters, often joined them and witnessed those rare moments when the both of them stood in complete silence, their eyes fixed on their home. Every night, they were watched by the strange hooded figure and more than once, Fíli had noticed him disappearing into the dark after a while.
On their last night in Esgaroth, the youngsters sat by the lake again, their pipes glowing in the dark and after a long silence Bilbo was already about to fall asleep, leaning against Kíli, who had wrapped his coat around Bilbo's shoulders in a loving fashion. The hobbit blinked when Fíli quietly began to hum, his brother joining him soon and he listening mesmerized, when the clear, gentle voices of the brothers echoed across the lake.
The mountain smoked beneath the moon,
The dwarves, they heard the tramp of doom.
They fled their hall to dying fall,
Beneath his feet, beneath the moon.
Far over the Misty Mountains grim,
To dungeons deep and caverns dim
We must away, ere break of day,
To win our harps and gold from him.
Long after their song had died away and the glow of their pipes had burned down, Kíli and Bilbo had fallen asleep, leaning against each other and only Fíli still watched the dark shadow of the mountain in the distance. He stirred when he heard a faint rustling behind him and when he looked over his shoulder; he saw the hooded figure standing in the shadows. The figure quickly disappeared but Fíli got up from his spot quietly and followed the fleeing shadow around the corner. The cloaked man halted abruptly, when a dark throwing axe buried itself in the wooden wall of a house right next to his head.
"Do not move another muscle if your life is dear to you", Fíli growled and the hooded man turned to him, his hands raised in defeat. Fíli was surprised when the man removed his hood and a familiar face and raven black hair appeared underneath.
"Bard!", the dwarf exclaimed, his expression most surprised. "It was you all the time."
"Aye", the bowman admitted, a sheepish smile on his lips. "I should have revealed myself earlier, I'm sorry."
"You do apologize a lot", Fíli remarked dryly and lowered another throwing axe that he had drawn from his boot already. "Why were you spying on us?"
"By no means was I spying", Bard explained quickly, obviously a little worried about this misconception. "I was merely listening to your talking."
"Eavesdropping is no more cordial than spying."
"You're right, though I will not apologize again. I must admit that your kin has a certain fascination for me. Especially you and your brother", Bard admitted quietly.
"And why is that?" Fíli demanded, still not quite sure what to make of all this.
"You carry the fate of us all and we Men of Lake-Town rely on you. I wanted to find out more about the future King of these realms, since one of you could be the one I will have to bow to in the future."
Fíli stared at the man before him bewildered. The task of being a king one day had been far away for the youngster, since Thorin was well and sound and very much keen on reclaiming his title of King under the Mountain soon enough. And even though he was used to being addressed as a 'prince' he could not yet see himself as a king at all.
"I heard you are leaving tomorrow?" Bard asked, ripping the dwarf from his thoughts once again.
"We are", Fíli replied, still a little puzzled. He took a few steps back, when Bard suddenly stepped closer until they nearly touched.
"Be on your guard", the bowman hissed quietly, making Fíli uncomfortable. "He is still in there and he is very much alive, keen on guarding his plunder until the bitter end. Should he find out about your quest, it will be the end of you and the end of all of us, for he will not leave a single log standing in this town."
"I-I understand", Fíli stammered, looking up at the man.
"I wish you all the luck in world", Bard showed a crooked smile as his gently placed a large hand on Fíli's shoulder. "Honestly. Good luck."
The youngster stood frozen to the spot for a while after the man had disappeared in the shadows again. In this moment it dawned on him, that they really had to face a dragon and they had to face him soon. All the sweet-talking of Smaug being gone was erased from his memory for Bard's words had been so intriguing that Fíli believed them without a second thought. When he returned to his snoring brother and the hobbit, his knees felt like jelly and he did not find any sleep that night.