Hey, how's it going? Love you.
"I told you this was a horrible idea!" Balin whispered harshly to Thorin. The company was crouched in the shadows just outside the blacksmith. "We should have just taken the weapons Bard supplied us with."
"And risked getting killed?" Dwalin hissed back for Thorin, who was leaning around the wall to see what was happening.
"It would be better than not reaching Erebor at all," Balin muttered.
"Shh!" Dwalin ordered as two henchmen walked past where they were hiding. Cheyanne swallowed the surprised shout that worked its way to her lips and closed her eyes. As soon as they had passed, Dwalin looked at Balin with an annoyed frown. "Keep it down."
Balin returned the muted glare and turned away with a shake of his head. Thorin turned and gestured to Bombur, Gloin and Dori. The three dwarves hurried around the corner, and Thorin watched them go. He then glanced over his shoulder at the rest of them.
"As soon as we have the weapons, we make straight for the mountain." The company nodded, and Thorin nodded to Nori. The dwarf hurried forward. "Go, go, go!"
Thorin waited a moment. "Next," he said, and Bilbo went forward and disappeared around the corner as well. Another beat passed, and Thorin pulled Cheyanne forward and pushed her around the corner. She climbed up the pyramid Gloin, Dori and Bombur had created outside the window of the city armory and slid into the building.
Bilbo helped her down from the shelf she found herself sitting on. They waited for a few more dwarves to appear, and Kili, Ori, Dwalin and Thorin appeared one after the other. "Come, quickly," Thorin said, reaching for the swords hanging from racks on the walls.
The dwarves pulled other weapons off the racks, and Dwalin handed Cheyanne a heavy hammer. She bended over slightly at its weight, and he grinned at her, laughter in his eyes. She stuck her tongue out at him and straightened up, holding her arms out for another weapon.
She heard Kili grunt, and looked over her shoulder. Thorin was already giving him a concerned look. "You all right?"
The younger dwarf gave his uncle that same look he'd given Bofur on the rock slab by the river. "I can manage," he said firmly. "Let's just get out of here."
"Kili, be careful," Cheyanne warned as he held out his arms again. The dwarf turned the look to her, and she turned back around as Dwalin put another sword down on her pile of weapons.
"Get going before you drop it," advised the dwarf, noticing the strain it was putting on her arms.
Cheyanne nodded and followed Kili towards the stairs. The dwarf made it down two steps before his leg gave out and he collapsed with a cry of pain, dropping the weapons he had been holding. Cheyanne flinched as they all clatter to the stairs, making very loud noises.
There was the sound of boots running outside the armory immediately, and Cheyanne made a grab for a sword, but a pike is pointing at her neck before she can take one. Slowly, she rises to her feet, hands up in the air. "Listen, gentlemen," she said very carefully. "I understand what this probably looks like, but… Y'know. We paid for these."
Behind her, all of the dwarves groan, and Bilbo tugged on her shirt with a shake of his head. She stopped speaking and grinned sheepishly at the guards. "Maybe you should take us to the Master now," she said quietly.
One of the guards grabbed her by the neck and lifted her clean off the ground. "Hey!" Thorin stepped forward to intervene, but another guard pointed his sword at the dwarf. Cheyanne struggled in the guard's grasp, but his grip on her neck was firm.
With her being carried at the front, the company is all shuffled outside and towards the Master's mansion. Multitudes of townspeople followed after them, shouting slurs and throwing things. Cheyanne took a tomato right in the face, and it seemed to slide slowly downwards before it dropped dramatically to the ground.
The townspeople laugh loudly and obnoxiously, and Cheyanne blinked tomato juice from her eyes. They reached the town square, and the guard holding her dropped her to the ground. She landed with an oomph, and Bilbo hurried to her side. The guards arrange the dwarves in a line in the center of the square as Bilbo helped her too her feet.
The doors of the mansion fly open, and the Master stormed out, looking rumpled from sleep. "What is the meaning of this?" he demanded angrily, sliding his arms fully into a coat.
"We caught 'em stealing weapons, sire," the guard that had carried Cheyanne told him. He kicked at her foot with his boot. "This one tried to convince us they'd bought 'em."
The Master eyed the company. "Enemies of the state, then."
"This is a bunch of mercenaries if there ever was, sire," Alfrid told him matter-of-factly.
Dwalin clenched his fist at this. "Hold your tongue!" he said, glaring up at the Master and Alfrid. "You do not know to whom you speak. This is no common criminal; this is Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror!" He gestured towards Thorin, who put a hand on Dwalin's shoulder as he stepped forward.
The Lake-town citizens murmured in amazement, standing up on their toes to get a better sight of the dwarf. "We are the Dwarves of Erebor," Thorin said, taking on the kingly-tone he saved for when he wasn't speaking to someone one-on-one.
The lord of silver fountains, the king of carven stone.
"We have come to reclaim our homeland. I remember this town and the great days of old. Fleets of boats lay at harbor, filled with silks and fine gems. This was no forsaken town on a lake! This was the center of all trade in the North!"
As he spoke, he turned and looked around at everyone, not just the Master. Cheyanne saw people nodding in agreement with his words. "I would see those days return," Thorin told them, and he sounded earnest. "I would relight the great forges of the dwarves and send wealth and riches flowing once more from the halls of Erebor!"
The king beneath the mountain shall come into his own.
The townspeople begin to cheer, some going as far as to clap and shout Thorin's name. Cheyanne thought she saw the dwarf grow an inch taller as he took in their encouragement.
And the bells shall ring in gladness at the mountain king's return.
It was cut short, however, as a voice rose above the cheering. "Death! That is what you will bring upon us!" Bard pushed his way through the crowd and glared at Thorin. "Dragon-fire and ruin. If you awaken that beast, it will destroy us all."
But all will fail and sadness, and the lake will shine and burn.
The townspeople began to whisper anxiously to themselves. Cheyanne didn't blame them; if they knew the prophecy, they surely knew how the ending had been foretold. Bard was making a valid point.
"You can listen to this naysayer," Thorin began, "but I promise you this; if we succeed, all will share in the wealth of the mountain. You will have enough gold to rebuild Esgaroth ten times over!"
Cheyanne shook her head as the people's whispers turned to shouts of excitement.
"All of you! Listen to me!" Bard insisted loudly. The people quieted down, and he went on, "You must listen. Have you forgotten what happened to Dale?" The townspeople shook their heads sadly. "Have you forgotten those who died in the firestorm?"
"No!" A raucous call came up from all the people in the square.
"And for what purpose? The blind ambition of a mountain-king so riven by greed, he could not see beyond his own desire!"
The lord of silver fountains, the king of carven stone.
Bard and Thorin glared at each other in silent anger as the crowd gets louder, some agreeing with the dwarf and others with the man. The Master stepped forward and raised his hands. "Now, now, we must not, any of us, be too quick to lay blame. Let us not forget that it was Girion, Lord of Dale-" Here he paused and pointed at Bard, "- your ancestor, who failed to kill the beast!"
Bard turned away as the crowd's voice grew as a whole. Thorin gazed at him in shock, and Cheyanne saw a glimmer of anger light up in the blue depths of his eyes.
"Its true sire," Alfrid agreed above the clamor. "We all know the story: arrow after arrow he shot, each one missing it's mark."
The crowd shouted and cheered at the same time. Bard leaned forward and spoke just loud enough that Cheyanne overheard: "You have no right. No right to enter that mountain."
Thorin glared at him. "I have the only right."
The king beneath the mountain shall come into his own.
Thorin turned to face the Master. "I speak to the Master of the men of the Lake. Will you see the prophecy fulfilled? Will you share in the great wealth of our people?" he asked him.
The townspeople quieted down and watched their Master in excited anticipation.
"What say you?" asked the dwarf.
The Master paused, probably for dramatic effect, before he grinned and pointed at Thorin. "I say unto you… Welcome! Welcome and thrice welcome, King Under the Mountain!"
The town square exploded in cheers, and Thorin stepped up the stairs leading to the mansion. Cheyanne saw light glimmering in his eyes, and he seemed to be smiling in satisfaction as he stared at Bard, who gazed right back.
The townspeople began to usher the dwarves towards the mansion, clapping and shouting. Some even went as far as to pick up Thorin and hold him up over their shoulders. "King Under the Mountain! King Under the Mountain!"
And bells shall ring in gladness at the mountain king's return.
Cheyanne ducked away from the parade of people, hiding in the shadows as they all disappeared into the mansion. At last, she was left by herself. Bard had stayed behind as well, but he didn't notice her. He gazed at the mansion for a long moment before he shook his head in disappointment and stalked out of the square.
When he was gone, Cheyanne emerged from the shadows and gazed around at the empty area. Within the span of a few days, it would all be gone, burned to ash, similar to Dale and whatever else Smaug had chosen to destroy in his years. The people of Lake-town didn't realize it, but they had just invited ruin into their Master's mansion.
But all shall fail in sadness, and the lake will shine and burn.
Cheyanne sat in her chair, arms crossed glumly. The dwarves were all having a great time, tossing ale back and forth over the big feast that had been laid out before them. Bilbo appeared to be having a grand time as well. He was grinning and laughing at whatever was said to him.
If she didn't know better, she would have said the hobbit was drunk.
Thorin was happy, too. Cheyanne could tell, even though he wasn't quite as expressive as some of the others. His chair was at the head of the table, and he smiled whenever someone spoke to him. Actually, he smiled the whole time; it grew whenever someone spoke to him.
Cheyanne wasn't happy. She was getting anxious, now that they were so close to the mountain. She wasn't sure if she was anxious because she wanted it to be over, or because she was afraid of what was to come. Perhaps a little of both. As she watched Thorin, she realized that it was one more than the other. She didn't want him to go insane. Not at all.
The dwarves partied into the night, long after Cheyanne had retreated to the room the Master had provided her with on the bottom floor of his house. It was at the end of the hall that the company was given, and she sat on the edge of her bed, listening to the sounds of the seemingly never ending party in the dining hall.
She wasn't sure whether or not she wanted to try to sleep, or to hide under the covers and fret over what was about to happen and how there was nothing she could do to stop it. She decided to just sit and wait. Worrying wasn't going to do anything. She needed to talk to Thorin.
She blinked, and when she opened her eyes, she was no longer in her room. Instead, she was outside the doors of Erebor, staring out over the plain towards Dale. The city shined in the distance, cheerful and prosperous, the way it had been before Smaug attacked.
Cheyanne felt someone step up behind her, and she glanced down at her shoulder when they rested a hand on it. It was Thorin; she could tell by the ring on his middle finger.
Grinning, she turned to look at him, and choked when she saw his face. His head was bleeding, his eyes pale and lifeless. He was dead.
She stumbled backwards away from him and tripped on something. She fell over whatever it was and landed hard, afraid to look. When she did, Cheyanne let out a sob. Fili and Kili were on the ground, both dead as well. She crawled backwards away from them all, and went over an edge.
She seemed to roll backwards forever, tumbling down into the darkness. Fire awaited her at the bottom of the never-ending, and at last she fell into it, screaming.
Cheyanne bolted upright with a gasp, her forehead damp with sweat. Breathing heavily, she put a hand over her heart and looked around. She was back in the room in the Master's house. Cheyanne let out a breath and wiped her forehead off with the back of her hand. She couldn't be alone anymore.
She stood up and crept to the door of her room, pulling it open softly. Sticking her head out into the hallway, she realized that there were no longer the sounds of a party coming from the dining hall. In fact, the house was dark. She could barely see anything.
Cheyanne stepped out into the hallway and closed her door. She glanced up the hall, wondering which door she should choose. Deciding that any would be better than being alone, she went to the one across from her own and opened it. She stopped and studied the dark room.
She could see the form of a dwarf (it was definitely a dwarf; too big to be Bilbo) on the bed, his back to her. She swallowed thickly and stepped cautiously into the room, closing the door behind her with a quiet thud.
The dwarf stirred at the noise, and Cheyanne froze when he rolled over. Even in the darkness, she could tell who it was.
"Cheyanne?" Thorin's voice was clogged with sleepiness.
"I'm sorry," she apologized immediately. "I-I just- I'll go." She turned to do just that.
"No, Cheyanne, it's alright," Thorin told her before she could open the door. "What's the matter?"
She turned back around, stepping closer to the bed. "I-I had a bad dream," she said quietly, bowing her head.
Thorin was quiet for a moment, and she looked up. He leaned over and there was a scratch as he struck a match and a lit a lantern by his bed, lighting the room in a golden glow. "Thorin, you don't need to do that," Cheyanne told him quickly.
"I want to. Come here and tell me about it," he insisted, sitting up. Cheyanne didn't move. Thorin sighed. "Miss Baggins, I'm not asking you, I'm telling you. Come." Cheyanne let out a breath and walked the rest of the way to the bed. She sat down on the blank spot beside Thorin, who was gazing at her steadily. "Tell me."
Cheyanne glanced at him. She wanted to, terribly, but she was afraid that if she did tell them, Thorin wouldn't believe her. But, even if he didn't, nothing would change, as usual. "I… I dreamed you and Fili and Kili were dead," she told him.
Thorin gaped at her in surprise, and she felt tears coming to her eyes. She turned away and shook her head. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come in here." She started to get up and leave, but Thorin locked a hand around her wrist. Silently, he pulled her back onto the bed fully.
He then lifted her hand in his own. Cheyanne hadn't noticed it until now, but he was only wearing a tunic, and it had a deep V-neck down his chest, revealing the muscles there. She swallowed thickly as he pressed her hand to his warm skin. "Do you feel that?" he asked her gently, keeping his eyes on hers.
Cheyanne waited for a long moment, and she could feel his heartbeat after focusing. It was steady under her hand and inside his chest, and it sent an odd sense of calming through her. She nodded, and he gave her a sweet grin. "That's always going to be beating, Chey," he told her. "You don't need to worry about it stopping."
I wish that were true.
Cheyanne realized then, as she looked at him, that she didn't want to lose any more time with sickness-free Thorin. She gave him her most pleading look. "Can I stay with you?" Thorin hesitated. "Please?"
"Yes," Thorin agreed after another moment. "I wouldn't mind that."
Cheyanne smiled weakly at him and settled back against the pillow on her side of the bed. Thorin blew out the lantern, and she felt him put a hand on her side, signifying her wanted her to come closer. She did so, scooting back and curling up into his chest. He put her head beneath his chin and held her to him. She could feel the movement of his chest as he breathed against her back, and she relaxed. It was very comforting.
"Chey," he started, quietly, shocking her. She'd thought he'd already fallen asleep.
"Yes?" she asked him.
"I'm sorry for offering you up to Thranduil," he said. "It was a mistake. We need you with us."
Cheyanne smiled sadly when she heard this, and she turned around in his arms, moving her head back so she could look at him. She could barely see his features in the darkness, but she thought she saw him returning the grin. "Thank you for apologizing," she told him. "It was a real one, too."
Thorin chuckled. "It wasn't as difficult as I had thought it was going to be," he admitted. "I should have just done it from the start." Cheyanne closed her eyes when she felt his lips touch her forehead briefly. "E alyu' zi abnâ," he murmured to her.
"I don't know what that means," she responded, heart melting anyway.
"It means "I behold your skill" in Khuzdul," he said. "I wish I had seen it before."
Cheyanne hid her face in his chest, a blush creeping up her neck. "You do now," she whispered. "That's all there is to it." What am I going to do?
All of the fluff, you guys. All of it.
Review, please. I have all these follows, and yet barely any reviews. C'mon, y'all. Tell me how bad I am.
Only, not really, because I don't like criticism. Kthxbye.