AN: Thanks for all the lovely reviews! They make me so HAPPY!
LOADS OF APOLOGIES ABOUT THIS CHAPTER! IT'S DULL AND BORING, BUT IT IS SADLY NECESSARY!
Chapter 11: A Warm Welcome
The day grew lighter and warmer as they floated along. After a while the river rounded a steep shoulder of land that came down upon their left. Under its rocky feet like an inland cliff the deepest stream had flowed lapping and bubbling. Suddenly the cliff fell away. The shores sank. The trees ended.
The lands opened wide around them, filled with the waters of the river which broke up and wandered in a hundred winding courses, or halted in marshes and pools dotted with isles on every side; but still strong water flowed on steadily through the midst. And far away, its dark head in a torn cloud, there loomed the Mountain. Its nearest neighbors to the North-East and the tumbled land that joined it to them could not be seen. All alone it rose and looked across the marshes to the forest.
The river seemed to go on and on forever. After a while, the river took a more southerly course, and at last, late in the day the shores grew rocky, the river gathered all its wandering waters together into a deep and rapid flood, and they swept along at great speed.
The sun had set when turning with another sweep towards the East the forest-river rushed into the Long Lake. There it had a wide mouth with stony clifflike gates at either side whose feet were piled with shingles. It was so wide that the opposite shores looked small and far, but it was so long that its northerly end, which pointed towards the Mountain, could not be seen at all. The running river came down into the lake from Dale and with the Forest River filled with deep waters what must once have been a great deep rocky valley. At the southern end the doubled waters poured out again over high waterfalls and ran away hurriedly to unknown lands. In the still evening air the noise of the falls could be heard like a distant roar.
Not far from the mouth of the Forest River was the strange town. It was not built on the shore, though there were a few huts and buildings there, but right out on the surface of the lake, protected from the swirl of the entering river by a promontory of rock which formed a calm bay. A great bridge made of wood ran out to where on huge piles made of forest trees was built a busy wooden town of Men, who still dared to dwell here under the shadow of the distant dragon-inhabited mountain. They still throve on the trade that came up the great river from the South and was carted past the falls to their town; but in the great days of old, when Dale in the North was rich and prosperous, they had been wealthy and powerful, and there had been fleets on boats on the waters, and some were filled with gold and some with warriors in armor, and there had been wars and deed which were now only legend. The rotting piles of a greater town could still be seen along the shores where the waters sank in a drought.
As soon as the raft of barrels came in sight boats rowed out from the piles of the town, hailed the raft-steerers. Then ropes were cast and oars were pulled, and soon the raft was drawn out of the current of the Forest River and towed away round the high shoulder of rock into the little bay of Lake-town. There it was moored not far from the shoreward head of the great bridge. Soon men would come up from the South and take some of the casks away, and others would fill with goods they had brought to be taken back up the stream to the Wood-elves' home. In the meanwhile the barrels were left afloat while the elves of the raft and the boatmen went to feast in Lake-town.
Knowing that they were alone, Bella banged on her barrel to get the other's attention. She was battered and bruised, and knew that she would hardly be able to stand. Exhaustion made her limbs feel like lead, but she knew they needed to get out of the barrels. "Come on!" she shouted to the others. "Can anyone get out of their barrels?"
Reaching up, she tried hard to get the lid off of her barrel but to no avail. It was too stuck for her to possibly remove it. Thankfully, she heard Thorin getting out of his barrel, and several others. Groans came from outside and inside the barrels, as the unhappy dwarves were leaving the barrels. Bella looked up at the lid and waited for a few minutes until someone yanked it off, and she looked up into the exhausted, sopping wet face of Thorin. A small, tired grin made its way on to his face as he reached in and pulled her from the barrel. When he set her on her feet, she would have fallen over if not for him having caught her.
"Sorry," she groaned, hanging onto his arm to keep upright. "I haven't slept in several days."
"That's alright," Thorin murmured softly. "I don't mind having to hang on to you." Even in her exhausted state, she still managed to blush at this.
Looking over, all the dwarves were all unpacked from the barrels and being helped ashore where they sat or lay muttering and moaning; they were so soaked and bruised and cramped that they could hardly yet realize their release or be properly thankful for it.
"I hope I never smell the smell of apples again!" Fili said. "My tub was full of it. To smell apples everlastingly when you can scarcely move and are cold and sick with hunger is maddening. I could eat anything in the world now, for hours on end – but not an apple!"
"What next?" asked Dori, shaking out his dripping hair.
"Lake-town," said Thorin. "What else is there? We need food and rest."
Nothing else could, of course, be suggested; so leaving the others Thorin and Fili and Kili and Bella went along the shore to the great bridge. Thorin, though exhausted himself, was required to hold a fair bit of Bella's weight (thankfully she was rather light) since she was so tired. But she wouldn't hear of being left behind with the others.
There were guards at the head of the bridge, but they were not keeping careful watch, for it was so long since there had been any real need. Except for occasional squabbles about river-tolls they were friends with the Wood-elves. Other folk were far away; and some of the younger people in the town openly doubted the existence of any dragon in the mountain, and laughed at the greybeards and gammers who said that they had seen him flying in the sky in their younger days. That being so it is not surprising that the guards were drinking and laughing by a fire in their hut, and did not hear the noise of the unpacking dwarves or the footsteps of the four scouts. Their astonishment was enormous when Thorin Oakenshield stepped in through the door.
"Who are you and what do you want?" they shouted leaping to their feet and groping for weapons.
"Thorin son of Thrain son of Thror King under the Mountain!" said Thorin in a loud voice, and he looked it, in spite of his torn clothes and draggled hood. The gold gleamed on his neck and waist; his eyes dark and deep. "I have come back. I wish to see the Master of your town."
Then there was a tremendous excitement. Some of the more foolish ran out of the hut as if they expected the Mountain to go golden in the night and all the waters of the lake turn yellow right away. The captain of the guard came forward.
"And who are these?" he asked, pointing to Fili, Kili, and Bella.
"The sons of my father's daughter," answered Thorin, "Fili and Kili of the race of Durin, and Ms. Baggins who has travelled with us from the West.
"If you have come in peace lay down your arms!" said the captain.
"We have none," said Thorin, and it was true enough; they had left all their weapons with the other dwarves. Bella had her sword hidden but she said nothing about it. "We have no need of weapons, who return at last to our own as spoken of old. Nor could we fight against so many. Take us to your master!"
"He is at feast," said the captain.
"Then all the more reason for taking us to him," burst in Fili, who was getting impatient at these solemnities. "We are worn and famished after our long road and we have sick comrades. Now make haste and let us have no more words, or your master may have something to say to you."
"Follow me then," said the captain, and with six men about them he led them over the bridge through the gates and into the market-place of the town. This was a wide circle of quiet water surrounded by the tall piles on which were built the greater houses, and by long wooden quays with many steps and ladders, going down to the surface of the lake. From one great hall shone many lights and there came the sound of many voices. They passed its doors and stood blinking in the light looking at the long tables filled with folk.
"I am Thorin son of Thrain son of Thror King under the Mountain!" cried Thorin, startling poor Bella as she hugged his arm to help her remain standing.
All leaped to their feet. The Master of the town sprang from his great chair. The news had spread from the doors of the hall like fire through all the town. People were shouting inside the hall and outside it. The quays were thronged with hurrying feet.
The Master gave up his great chair to Thorin, and next to him on one side sat Fili and Kili, and then on his other side sat Bella. Soon afterwards the other dwarves were brought into the town amid scenes of astonishing enthusiasm. They were all doctored and fed and housed and pampered in the most delightful and satisfactory fashion. Even Bella, Thorin, Fili, and Kili had their wounds tended to. A large house was given up to Thorin and his company; boats and rowers were put at their service; and crowds sat outside and sang songs all day; or cheered if any dwarf showed so much as his nose.
Some of the songs were old ones; but some of them were quite new and spoke confidently of the sudden death of the dragon and the cargoes of rich presents coming down the river to Lake-town. These were inspired largely by the Master and they did not particularly please the dwarves, but in the meantime they were well contented and they quickly replaced all their lost weight and muscle.
One whole week was devoted to recovery, being fitted out in fine cloth of their proper colors, having hair and beards combed and trimmed, and proud steps. Thorin looked as if his kingdom was already regained and Smaug chopped up into little pieces.
Bella's first three days were spent mostly in bed with a cold that she'd caught from all the exhaustion and chilly weather. And throughout the entire week, she hardly saw Thorin; let alone got the chance to speak with him alone.
At the end of a fortnight Thorin began to think of departure. While the enthusiasm still lasted in the town was the time to get help. It would not do to let everything cool down with delay. So he spoke to the Master and his councilors and said that soon he and his company must go on towards the Mountain.
Then for the first time the Master was surprised and a little frightened; and he wondered if Thorin was after all really a descendant of the old kings. He had never thought that the dwarves would actually dare to approach Smaug, but believed they were frauds who would sooner or later be discovered and be turned out. He was wrong. Thorin, of course, was really the grandson of the King under the Mountain, and there is no knowing what a dwarf will not dare and do for revenge or the recovery of his own.
But the Master was not sorry at all to let them go. They were expensive to keep, and their arrival had turned things into a long holiday in which business was at a standstill. "Let them go and bother Smaug, and see how he welcomes them!" he thought. "Certainly, O Thorin Thrain's son Thror's son!" was what he said. "You must claim your own. The hour is at hand, spoken of old. What help we can offer shall be yours, and we trust to your gratitude when your kingdom is regained."
So one day, although autumn was no getting farther on, and winds were cold, and leaves were falling fast, three large boats left Lake-town, laden with rowers, dwarves, Ms. Baggins, and many provisions. Horses and ponies had been sent round by circuitous paths to meet them at their appointed landing place. The Master and his councilors bade them farewell from the great steps of the town-hall that went down to the lake. People sang on the quays and out of windows. The white oars dipped and splashed, and off they went north up the lake on the last stage of their journey.