Hey guys! Oh my god, I am so, so sorry it has taken sooo long to get this out. Not only have I been going through some mental situations, but also physical.

For a while now, my eye sight has been steadily getting worse and worse, where it is now to the point I can hardly see, even with glasses. I am waiting to be assessed, as it is suspected I have cataracts and would probably need surgery, so I will be taking a break from writing for now untilt that point. I am hoping it won't tale more than a few months for the assessment, surgery and recovery, so with any luck, I will be back to writing before Christmas or shortly after.

I am so sorry to have kept you all waiting for long and hope you will forgive me and continue to be patient with me. Thank you for your continued support through all of this, I appreciate each and every one of you xx

Review responses;

Crystal-Wolf-Guardian-967 – I'm glad you loved it!

Lamomepiaf04 - I'm really happy you found this story and are enjoying it so far!

Chapter 23

Bard soon docks his barge and after looking around, he knocks over one of the barrels, and Nori falls out along with a pile of fish, and then Dori. As he reaches for Dwalin's barrel, Dwalin pokes his head up through the fish.

"Get your hands off me." he growls, causing Bard to hold his hands up in peace.

The remaining dwarves and Bilbo struggle out of their barrels, looking greasy and slimy from the fish. The dock keeper looks on in shock. Bard approaches him and slips him a coin.

"You didn't see them, they were never here. The fish you can have for nothing."

The man nods as Bard leads the Company away. Bard then turns to the company after looking around a corner to make sure the way is clear. "Stay close."

He walks on with them following behind.

"What is this place?" Bilbo asks.

"This, Master Baggins, is the world of Men." Thorin replies.

They walk on, ignoring the looks they are getting from the people of Laktown.

"Keep your heads down and keep moving. Quickly now." Bard says as he stops and urges them on.

"Halt! Oi!" a voice suddenly shouts.

They all look up to see guards heading their way.

"Come on, move!" Thorin exclaims.

They take off running, but are soon cornered by another guard. The dwarves and Bilbo attack the guards, and quickly knock them out with pots, pans, and mops. The dwarves, hide the unconscious guards just as another, Braga, appears. Braga has a look around but doesn't see anything amiss.

"What's going on here?" Braga asks. "Stay where you are. Nobody leaves."

Thorin and Balin glance at each nervously, each holding an oar as a weapon just in case things go South once again.

Bard suddenly steps out in front of him. "Braga. I'm sorry."

"You. What are you up to Bard?"

"Me? Nothing, I'm looking for nothing."

One of the guards begin to stir, which causes the woman by his side to purposely knock over a plant-pot, which lands on his head, knocking him back out again. She then covers the guards head with a plant, another teller on the next stall placing a crate in front of another guard to block him. .

"Here Braga, your wife would look lovely in this."

Turning to Bard, Braga turns to see Bard holding up some skimpy lingerie.

"What do you know of my wife?"

"I know her as well as any man in this town."

Braga growls as he yanks the clothing from him and tosses it down before he storms off.

Breathing a sigh of relief as the guards leave, Bard gathers the company leave the marketplace, as they turn a corner to get to his house, his son, Bain rushes over.

"Da! Our house, it's being watched.

Bard looks at Thorin and the dwarves and hatches a plan.

Bard and his son, after doing a little shopping, walk along back to their house. As they walk, a fisherman in a boat sees them and drops his eyepatch over one eye, then knocks with his staff on a wall nearby. Upon this signal, two boys run from the wall, and one knocks over a contraption which causes a hammer to hit a bell. At this signal, another man lights a match to light his pipe. He turns and looks at two men in a fishing boat right next to Bard's house, and they nod and switch their poles to the opposite sides of the boat than before. They do this just as Bard and Bain get to their house and enter through the door. Just before Bard enters, he looks down at the men and whistles to get their attention before tossing an apple to one of the fisherman.

"You can tell the Master that I'm done for the day."

Inside the house, Bard's daughters, Sigrid and Tilda, greet their father.

"Da! Where have you been?"

"Father! There you are. I was worried."

Both daughters run to their father, and they hug. Bard then hands his bag to Sigrid.

"Here's something to eat." he then goes to the window to make sure all is clear. "Bain, get them in."

Bain goes down some steps to the lower floor of the house, which is open to the water. After looking around, he knocks on the wall near the toilet three times. Dwalin's head appears through the toilet, which is open to the water below.

"If you speak of this to anyone, I'll rip your arms off."

Dwalin raises the seat and begins to pull himself out of the toilet. Bain reaches out to help him, but Dwalin slaps his hand away.

"Get off."

"Up there."

Bain points up the stairs, and Dwalin goes up. Bilbo pokes his head up through the toilet, looking flabbergasted, and Bain helps him out. The rest of the dwarves follow and head upstairs.

Sigrid stands and watches the dwarves walk in. "Da. . .why are there dwarves climbing out of our toilet?"

"Will they bring us luck?" Tilda asked excitedly.

Once all the dwarves are in, they are wrapped up in blankets, and their wet things have been laid in front of the fire to dry. Some of them shiver.

"It may not be the best fit, but it'll keep you warm."

Tilda passes out blankets, and Bilbo thanks her when he receives one.

"Thank you very much."

Thorin, now dry and changed, looks out a window and sees a wooden tower not far away. Atop the tower is a windlass, a giant cross-bow type weapon with four arms. Thorin looks at it in shock.

"A Dwarvish Wind-Lance." he breathes out.

Bilbo, who is sipping a hot drink from a mug, looks at the wind-lance too.

"You look like you've seen a ghost."

"He has." Balin begins as he joins the duo. "The last time we saw such a weapon, a city was on fire. It was the day the dragon came."

Thorin looks sadly away as he remembers that day.

"The day that Smaug destroyed Dale. Girion, the Lord of the city, rallied his bowman to fire upon the beast. But a dragon's hide is tough, tougher than the strongest armor. Only a black arrow, fired from a wind-lance, could have pierced the dragon's hide, and few of those arrows were ever made. His store was running low when Girion made his last stand."

"Had the aim of Men been true that day, much would have been different."

Thorin's voice chokes up with emotion as he speaks. Much would have been different. They would still be in Erebor, Fili and Kili would have been born within those halls and Caladwen. . .he would have been married to her and hopefully have started a family of their very own. Just this thought is enough to bring a small smile to his lips.

Bard approaches the three of them, pulling Thorin out of his daydream, as he drops the smile.

"You speak as if you were there."

"All dwarves know the tale." Thorin says matter of factly.

Bain walks over then. "Then you would know that Girion hit the dragon. He loosened a scale under the left wing. One more shot and he would have killed the beast."

Dwalin chuckles mournfully from behind the boy. "That's a fairy story, lad. Nothing more."

Thorin strides up to Bard. "You took our money. Where are the weapons?"

"Wait here."

Bard goes down the stairs to the lower part of the house. After looking around to make sure no one is watching, he pulls on a rope hanging off a small boat and pulls up a wrapped package that had been hidden underwater.

While Bard is doing this, Thorin, Balin, Fili, and Kili talk quietly together.

"Tomorrow begins the last days of autumn." Thorin begins to explain.

Balin nods. "Durin's Day falls morn after next. We must reach the mountain before then."

"And if we do not? If we fail to find the hidden door before that time?" Kili asks worriedly.

"Then this quest has been for nothing." Fili answers.

Maybe not for nothing, Thorin thinks to himself. If anything came out of this quest, he was able to finally reunite with Caladwen at the least.

The dwarves stop talking as Bard returns and lays a package on the table, he loosens the wrappings as the dwarves gather around to reveal a few hand-made weapons. The dwarves look at them in shock, then pick up the weapons and look at them in disgust.

"What is this?" Thorin asks as he holds up a stick with three hooks on the end.

"Pike-hook. Made from an old harpoon."

Kili lifts another stick wth a block of steel on the end, almost like a hammer. "And this?"

"A crowbill, we call it, fashioned from a smithy's hammer. It's heavy in hand, I grant, but in defense of your life, these will serve you better than none."

Thorin and Dwalin look disgustedly at each other.

Gloin glares up at the man. "We paid you for weapons. Iron-forged swords and axes!"

"It's a joke!"

Bofur throws his weapon back on the table, and the other dwarves follow suit.

"You won't find better outside the city armory. All iron-forged weapons are held there under lock and key."

Thorin and Dwalin look at each other out of the corners of their eyes, hatching a plan.

Balin stands by Thorin. "Thorin."

No one notices Bard look up at the name, as if it awoke something in his memory.

"Why not take what's been offered and go? I've made do with less; so have you. I say we leave now."

"You're not going anywhere." Bard says, making everyone turn to him.

"What did you say!?" Dwalin growls.

"There's spies watching this house and probably every dock and wharf in the town. You must wait till nightfall."

Hearing this, the dwarfs begin to settle down. Kili, leaning on a pole, looks like he's in pain and he slowly slides down the pole and sits on a couch. Wincing, he examines the bandage on his leg while making sure no one is looking.

Outside, Bard is standing on his porch; he talks to himself, trying to recall where he'd heard the name 'Thorin' before.

"Thorin. . ."

With a sudden shock of understanding, he whirls around and looks at the Lonely Mountain in the distance. The door opens, and Bain sticks his head out.

"Da?"

Bard just stares at the mountain for a moment before turning to his son. "Don't let them leave."

Bard hurries down his steps and into the town.

Tauriel and I, still in pursuit of the orcs, come to a rocky promontory at the end of the river and at at the banks of the lake. On the rocks are pieces of a deer that the orcs had previously shot and ripped apart. Tauriel pauses as she looks over at all the red blood and the body parts flung in all directions. I just walk on past, standing on the edge of the rocks, looking over at Lake Town which is visible.

"Look at all this. . .I have never seen such savagery." I hear her say quietly as she joins me. "How can you stand it?"

I give a grim smile. "Trust me, when you spend three years watching it first hand, you get used to it."

She looks to me for a moment before turning her eyes to Lake Town. A few moments later, we go tense as we hear something from behind. Spinning quickly, she kneels in front of me, both of us aiming our arrows. . .at Legolas, who is also armed and aiming an arrow at us.

"Ingannen le Orch." Tauriel says in irritation at having been snuck up on by him.

"Cí Orch im, dangen le." Legolas replies with a teasing lilt to his voice.

The three of us lower our bows. I put my arrow away as I turn back to Lake Town.

"Caladwen, Tauriel, you cannot hunt thirty orcs on your own."

I turn to him with a smile. "But we are not on our own."

Legolas smiles at me.

"You knew I would come."

I continue to smile and wink at him before turning back to the village of man.

"The king is angry. Tauriel, for six hundred years, my father has protected you, favoured you." he walks up to us. "You defied his orders; you betrayed his trust. And Caladwen, you return from having disobeyed him a century and a half ago and suddenly leave again. Dandolo na nin...e gohenatha ui."

Tauriel turns to him. "Ú-'ohenathon. Cí dadwenithon, ú-'ohenathon im."

"Nor will I." I answer without looking back, my eyes on the village I know Thorin will be residing in.

"The king has never let orc-filth from our lands, yet he would let this orc-pack cross our borders and kill our prisoners." Tauriel says to him.

"It is not our fight."

I finally turn as Legolas says this. "It is our fight. It will not end here. With every victory, this evil will grow. I have seen first hand what can happen if we do not stop this. If father has his way, we will do nothing. We will hide within our walls, live our lives away from the light, and let darkness descend." I stand in front of him and reach up a hand to place affectionately on his cheek. "Are we not part of this world?"

He just looks to me without saying anything.

"Tell me, muindor, when did we let evil become stronger than us?"

Just looking over him, I can tell Legolas is conflicted. Out of the both of us, he is the one that has been closer to our father, he is the one that has always tried to do everything he can to make father proud of him, to not anger him. But if father is angry at me for following my heart and not his orders, then I would rather have his rage to keep Thorin's heart.

Leaning up, I kiss Legolas' free cheek before moving on, running over the rocks towards Lake Town, a smile pulling at my lips as I hear not only Tauriel following but Legolas.

It is night in Laketown. The dwarves are sneaking through the town toward the armoury, hiding from watchmen. They hide behind a boat as two watchmen walk by.

"Shh! Keep it down." Dwalin hisses from under the makeshift ladder a few of the dwarves have made with their bodies.

Thorin turns to those that are with him. "As soon as we have the weapons, we make straight for the mountain. Go, go, go!"

With the watchmen gone, Thorin points to Nori, who gets a running start and runs up a pyramid of dwarves who have pressed themselves against the walls of the city armoury. He is able to get high enough that he can reach a second floor window and dive through.

"Next."

Bilbo does the same thing as Nori.

Soon, Bilbo, Thorin, Kili, Bofur and Nori are in the armoury, and they begin collecting the weapons stored there. Kili struggles under a load of several different weapons, and Thorin hands him another one.

Thorin looks to him, worrying about him as he looks paler than before. "You all right?"

"I can manage. Let's just get out of here."

Thorin looks at Kili, then lays another sword on the pile Kili is holding. Kili begins walking down the stairs, but his wounded leg gives way and he falls with a cry. The weapons make a terrible clanging noise, and the dwarves both inside and outside look around warily. In the distance, the watchmen cry out, and running footsteps approach.

"Run!" Dori yells.

The dwarves still outside begin to run, but are stopped by two watchmen pointing pikes at them. Bilbo and the dwarves in the armory grab weapons, but several other guards point pikes at them too. Braga, the captain of the guard, is holding Kili with a dagger to his throat. Kili looks sadly and guiltily at Thorin.

Alfrid pokes his head out of the door to the Master's mansion to see the commotion. He sees the soldiers dragging the dwarves to the mansion, with multitudes of townspeople following behind. It is snowing a little.

"Get off of me!" Dwalin growls as he tries pulling free of the man holding him.

Lots of indistinct muttering and yelling, which draws the attention of the people who live there as they gather around the, as they form a semi circle around the mansion. Alfrid closes the door and goes to get the master. Braga arranges all of the dwarves under guard in the town square before the doors of the mansion. As guards open the doors of the mansion, the Master storms out, still putting on his coat.

"What is the meaning of this?" The Master demands.

"We caught 'em stealing weapons, sire." Braga explains.

"Ah. Enemies of the state, then."

"This is a bunch of mercenaries if ever there was, sire." Alfrid scoffs.

Dwalin steps forward. "Hold your tongue. You do not know to whom you speak. This is no common criminal; this is Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror!"

Dwalin gestures at Thorin, and Thorin steps forward. The crowd murmurs in amazement.

"We are the dwarves of Erebor." Thorin says, causing the crowd to whisper in shock and recognition as they crane their heads to see better. "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 centre of all trade in the North."

Thorin is speaking earnestly to the crowd, and the people nod in agreement.

"I would see those days return. I would relight the great forges of the dwarves and send wealth and riches flowing once more from the halls of Erebor!"

The people cheer and clap, and the Master looks on, calculating. Suddenly, a voice calls out over the crowd, and Bard strides forward.

"Death! That is what you will bring upon us. Dragon-fire and ruin. If you awaken that beast, it will destroy us all."

The people whisper anxiously.

"You can listen to this naysayer, 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!"

Balin looks on with pride as the people shout in excitement and they applaud. The Master looks on, smiling and nodding at this turn of events.

"Why should we take you at your word, eh?" The cheering stops as Alfrid speaks, Thorin turning to him. "We don't know nothing about you. Who here can vouch for your character?"

There's silence apart from a few whispers as no one speaks up. Thorin dips his head in defeat. That's when Bilbo, standing in the crowd, raises his hand.

"Me. I'll vouch for him." Thorin looks to the hobbit in surprise. "Now, I have travelled far with these dwarves through great danger, and if Thorin Oakenshield gives his word, then he will keep it."

As the crowd cheers, Thorin smiles and bows his head in gratitude to the hobbit.

Bard yells out again, trying to make the people see reason. "All of you! Listen to me! You must listen! Have you forgotten what happened to Dale?!" The people quiet down and shake their heads sadly. "Have you forgotten those who died in the firestorm?!"

"No!" the people shout.

"And for what purpose?" he turns to glare at Thorin. "The blind ambition of a mountain-king so riven by greed, he could not see beyond his own desire!"

As Bard and Thorin stare at each other angrily, the crowd gets louder, but then the Master steps forth.

"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, your ancestor, who failed to kill the beast!"

The Master points accusingly at Bard, and the crowd begins to clamor. As Bard looks away, Thorin looks at him in shock. He is a descendent Girion, Lord of Dale?

Alfrid nods in agreement. "It's true, sire. We all know the story: arrow after arrow he shot, each one missing its mark."

Bard looks around as the crowd yells angrily at him. He then strides forward and speaks to Thorin earnestly.

"You have no right, no right to enter that mountain!"

"I have the only right." Thorin turns and faces 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?"

The people quietly watch in anticipation.

"What say you?"

The Master thinks for several seconds, then smiles and points his finger at Thorin.

"I say unto you...welcome! Welcome and thrice welcome, King under the Mountain!"

The Master opens his arms in welcome, and the crowd erupts in cheers. Bard looks on silently. Thorin climbs up a few steps and turns to face the audience; the people hug each other in excitement and joy. Thorin and Bard stare at each other before Bard turns away in defeat.

There we have it. The company are in Lake Town and Caladwen's not far behind. Stay tuned for the next chapter xx

Translations;

Ingannen le Orch. - I thought you were an Orc.

Cí Orch im, dangen le. - If I were an Orc, you would be dead.

Dandolo na nin...e gohenatha ui. - Come back with me...he will forgive you both.

Ú-'ohenathon. Cí dadwenithon, ú-'ohenathon im. - But I will not. If I go back, I will not forgive myself.

Muindor - Brother