After arriving in Esgaroth, Thorin and his company quickly realized they were not welcome. The bargeman, Bard, hid them in his home, making them promise not to reveal themselves to any of the townsfolk. Thorin bargained for more weapons, and Bard left to procure them from Durin-knows-where. His older daughter served the dwarves tea made from nettle leaves, while his younger daughter and son pestered the company with questions they had no business asking.
Thorin stood by the window, staring at the Lonely Mountain, its tall form looming on the horizon, almost close enough to cast its shadow over the town. His gaze lingered on a Dwarvish windlance perched atop a rickety tower. He remembered the last time he had seen one—in Dale, the once-bustling and prosperous city by the mountain's foot. He had still been considered a young dwarf when Smaug came, but the image of the burning town and the screaming people lived vividly in his memory. The former lord of Dale, Girion, had fired two black arrows from a windlance, but they failed to slay the dragon. Dale and Erebor had fallen, and the memory of that day still haunted Thorin.
Bard returned about an hour later with a sack full of rusty old blades, patched-up axes, and some barely functional lances.
"What is this?" Thorin demanded, his anger rising as he grabbed a fish-pike-looking stick from the pile. The other dwarves looked at the weapons, incredulous.
"We paid you for weapons!" Gloin snapped indignantly.
"This is a joke!" Bofur yelled, tossing the axe he had picked back onto the table.
Bard shrugged, clearly unimpressed by their outrage. He told them it was all he could gather and that they wouldn't find anything better unless they raided the city armory. The dwarves huffed and grumbled, their frustration palpable.
"Thorin, let's take them and go," Balin urged, trying to ease the tension. "We've made do with less, and we still have some of our swords."
"You can't leave the city before nightfall, or you'll be captured," Bard interjected, prompting another round of protests from the company.
The sun was sinking steadily as Talessa and Eline reached the ferryboat. They had been fortunate, encountering no other living souls on their long walk, though both were acutely aware that the orcs could not be far behind. Talessa paid the old ferryman the fee for the crossing and the hefty entrance tax. They told him they were visiting distant relatives, but the man barely seemed to care.
As he rowed across the smooth, dark lake, Talessa leaned over the side, staring into the water. Suddenly, the lake lit up, the surface turning orange-red, as though it were blazing hot fire. Screams of pain and fear pierced the air, echoing through the night. She gasped as she saw something moving beneath the water, which now shimmered more gold than yellow—a massive winged beast, its shape monstrous and terrible.
"A prophecy,"a man's unfamiliar voice rose above the chaos of the screams, but Talessa could see only the dragon."The lord of silver fountains, the king of carven stone, the king beneath the mountain, shall come into his own. And the bells shall ring in gladness at the mountain king's return, but all shall fail in sadness, and the lake will shine and burn."
Her vision shifted. She saw a tower, a great crossbow atop it, and a man releasing an arrow, his face pained and sorrowful, before the tower was engulfed in flames. Then, the scene changed again. She saw Thorin and his thirteen companions standing on an overlook before a massive, metal-forged gate. Their faces were dirtied with soot and sweat, but they smiled, victorious.
Talessa gasped and came back to her senses, the vision dissolving like mist.
"What happened?" Eline asked worriedly, glancing toward the ferryman, who remained oblivious, focused on his rowing.
"I had another vision," Talessa whispered shakily, gripping the side of the boat. She thought of her earlier vision in the forest, of the burned bodies in the water, and her stomach churned with unease. As she looked toward the approaching town of Esgaroth, its rugged structures built entirely of wood, dread settled heavily in her chest. She had an idea of what was coming, but no sense of when—or how to stop it.
When they reached the docks, a disruption was evident. Townsfolk were gathering in what appeared to be the central square, their attention fixed on a commotion in front of a large, imposing mansion.
Talessa and Eline cautiously approached the crowd, weaving their way through to get a better view.
"It's them!" Eline gasped, standing on her tiptoes to see over the heads of the gathered men and women.
A woman shifted in front of them, giving Talessa a clear view. Now she saw the dwarves standing together in the square, Thorin at the front, speaking with a man on the mansion steps.
Suddenly, the crowd erupted into cheers, and the dwarves were ushered inside the grand building.
Talessa noticed a figure turning away from the commotion, slipping out of the crowd with quick steps. She froze as recognition struck—he was the man from her vision, the one with the crossbow. He disappeared into the maze of wooden streets before she could say or do anything, and she stared after him, unease building in her chest.
"Tessie, let's go meet them!" Eline's excited voice broke through her thoughts.
Talessa nodded, pushing her worries aside for now, and followed her friend as they made their way through the crowd.
Thorin could barely believe his eyes as the two women walked into the mayor's house. The old geezer was barking orders at his servants to prepare a feast in the square and had even invited the company to stay in his mansion for the night. Though Thorin didn't trust the man's greedy eyes or sly demeanor, he accepted the offer—they needed all the help they could muster before continuing their quest.
The room erupted in joyful laughter and cheers as the women entered. Eline recounted how Talessa had negotiated their release with Thranduil, though she tactfully avoided revealing the exact cost of their freedom.
Thorin remained rooted in place, watching from a distance. He didn't approach them. A pang of guilt gnawed at him for leaving them behind. The right words to say escaped him—especially to Talessa, whose veiled head was now turned in his direction. Thorin inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment, but then turned away, his heart heavy and thoughts conflicted.
Talessa was standing by the window in her shared room with Eline, looking outside at the revelry. She saw her friend dancing with Fíli and smiled at their apparent joy. For what was probably one last night, they would all be carefree and happy.
She noticed the mayor sitting on his gilded chair on the podium, stuffing his face with a huge serving of roast piglet. Of course, he didn't bother to share the plenty of food he had prepared with any of the townsfolk, except for the dwarves who promised him more riches. She saw Thorin standing by a pillar, also watching the greedy man and shaking his head in disgust. After a few minutes, he said goodbye to his men and walked inside the building.
She had not had a chance to talk to him since they arrived, and she was worried he might be avoiding her. But her visions troubled her, and she decided she needed to tell him—if not everything, then at least something to prepare him for what was to come.
She stepped away from the window and walked to the dusty vanity. Pulling off her worn veil, she looked at herself in the mirror. It had been so long since she had properly seen her own reflection, with nothing to cover her face. She wondered if this was what her mother looked like or if she had inherited some of her father's features. She brushed her hand over her lips, remembering the dwarven king's mouth on hers in Beorn's garden. Tomorrow, he would depart, and while Talessa knew she would see him again soon, she still felt a strong need to go to him, to stay with him while she could.
She stripped out of her dusty travel clothes and rummaged through the wardrobe in their room. It had belonged to a woman at one point, but it had clearly been abandoned for a while. Did the mayor once have a wife? Had she managed to escape, or was she another victim of this wretched town's misery? Some of the dresses were damaged beyond saving, eaten away by moths, but she found a light blue nightgown tucked into the corner that seemed to have withstood the passage of time. It was almost fully transparent, its hems decorated with delicate lace flowers, and it came with a silken robe that she could put over it.
Talessa tried it on. It was a bit long, and she had to lift the front to walk comfortably, but it would suffice. She walked to the door, reaching for her veil on the desk, but then she stopped herself. The room she was going to was only a few doors down–she wouldn't need it. Taking a deep breath, she stepped out and headed for Thorin's chamber.
He stood in the middle of the room, his thoughts heavy with a mix of worry and hope about tomorrow, when he heard the door creak open. Turning to look, he found himself face to face with a vision—a phantom come to haunt him. She wasn't wearing her veil, instead, her face was bright and open, her eyelids hanging low. Moonlight hair framed her features like a crown, and her lips were pink and plump, as if waiting to be kissed.
Bewitched, he watched as she loosened the belt of her robe, letting it slip off her shoulders to reveal a thin slip of a nightgown beneath. He reached out his hand, beckoning her closer, and felt a surge of pleasure when she stepped straight into his arms. Cupping her face in his hands, he pulled her close for a kiss.
Talessa sat beside the brass tub as Thorin bathed. He didn't say much, but the expression he kept gazing at her with told her many promises. He washed quickly, and when he stepped out, Talessa took a towel and moved to dry him off. He didn't let her finish, instead, he grasped her waist and backed her up until her legs touched the side of the bed. Her heartbeat quickened as he reached for the ribbon of her gown, pulling it loose and letting it fall to the floor. He stepped back, his intense scrutiny making her quiver.
"You are the most magnificent being I have ever seen," he breathed, admiring her naked form. He closed the distance between them until their mouths met again. He held her tightly, his strong arms gripping her bottom as she pressed closer, spreading her legs slightly and grinding her hips against him to ease the ache building within her. Thorin lifted her effortlessly and laid her down on the bed, the worn mattress creaking beneath them. Kneeling above her, his eyes were lost in hers. She reached out and pulled him down, inviting his kisses to trail from her neck all the way down to the spot between her legs.
Her hips buckled as he began to lick at her moist opening, and he held her legs steady. Her head fell back as she moaned his name in a voice she barely even recognized. She was panting by the time he pulled back up to kiss her again, his mouth glistening with her essence.
He ground his hips against hers, his length brushing tantalisingly against her. She reached down, eager to touch him, and he let out a deep, animal growl when her hands wrapped around his shaft. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away, burying his face in her shoulder for a moment as his chest shook with restrained desire.
"If you do that, I will finish much sooner than I planned," he said, his voice strained. Talessa responded with a sheepish smile, lifting her hip and pushing it into him.
He looked at her with a sudden concern on his face. "Talessa... my beautiful lady. If we do this, you must understand that you will be mine." His hands brushed loose strands of hair from her face. "If you give yourself to me, I will never be able to let you go."
Talessa took his hand and brought it to her lips, placing a soft kiss on his bruised knuckles. "I will be yours," she agreed, meaning every word with all her heart. Every part of her whispered that her future lay with the dwarven king and his companions, and she felt deeply content with that fate.
He sighed and kissed her again before positioning himself between her legs. With one swift movement, he slipped inside her. A brief sting of pain shot through her but quickly faded into a new kind of pleasure that spread throughout her body. The ache within subsided, replaced by pure bliss as Thorin began to move inside her—first slowly, then faster and more frantic—until she closed her eyes, lost in ecstasy.