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VII. Smuggler

"Do it again, and you're dead," he warned them.

"Excuse me, but, uh, you're from Laketown if I'm not mistaken?" Balin asked, slowly approaching the stranger with his hands raised to show that he meant no harm, "that barge over there, it wouldn't be for hire by any chance?"

The man slowly lowered his weapon as he mulled over the oldest Dwarf's words.

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"What makes you think I would help you?" The stranger, who she now knew was named Bard, asked the company while he piled the barrels they previously occupied onto the boat he had been travelling on.

"Those boots have seen better days. As has that coat. No doubt you have some hungry mouths to feed. How many bairns?" Balin asked, taking the lead with the negotiations while the others watched from behind him.

"A boy and two girls," he responded as he went to collect another of the barrels before rolling it towards the boat.

"And your wife, I'd imagine she's a beauty."

"Aye, she was," Bard's voice quietened as he spoke, Athena could hear the sadness that dwelled inside him at his wife's passing. She did not understand what it was like to lose somebody that you loved so dearly in that manner, but by the way his eyes gazed distantly across the shore she did not want to have to experience the feeling or even imagine it.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"Oh come on, come on, enough with the niceties," interrupted Dwalin with a loud whisper to Thorin.

"What's your hurry?" Bard asked from his boat, glancing over at the Dwarf that had spoken up.

"What's it to you?"

"I would like to know who you are and what you are doing in these lands."

"We are simple merchants from the Blue Mountains journeying to see our kin in the Iron Hills," Balin attempted to lie, but the disbelieving expression on Bard was enough for her to know that he had not bought it for a second.

"Simple merchants, you say?"

"We'll need food, supplies, weapons. Can you help us?" Thorin interjected, stepping forwards while Athena inwardly sighed at how he put emphasis on the weapons section.

"I know where these barrels came from," he informed them while fingering one of the indents that had been caused from their battle with the Orcs.

"What of it?"

"I don't know what business you had with the Elves, but I don't think it ended well. No one enters Lake-town but by leave of the Master. All his wealth comes from trade with the Woodland Realm. He will see you in irons before risking the wrath of King Thranduil."

Balin caught the rope that Bard had thrown towards him, looking helplessly at Thorin who mouthed 'offer him more' in his direction.

"I'll wager there are ways to enter that town unseen."

"Aye. But for that, you will need a smuggler."

"For which we will pay double."

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The barge that belonged to Bard sailed across the icy lake, the fog impairing the vision of those onboard. He had agreed to smuggle the company across the border and into Lake-town.

"Watch out!" Bofur cried out from the bow as large rock formations made themselves known.

Bard navigated his way through the ancient ruins, narrowly missing the jutting out pieces of stone that threatened their travels.

"What are you trying to do, drown us?" Thorin asked the man.

"I was born and bred on these waters master Dwarf. If I wanted to drown you, I would not do it here."

"Was that meant to comfort or threaten us?" Athena asked the two brothers that she sat beside, her arms folded across her chest.

"Oh I've had enough of this lippy lakeman. I say we throw him over the side and be done with him," Dwalin spoke up with frustration.

"Bard, his name's Bard," inserted Bilbo, turning to face Dwalin.

"How do you know?" Bofur then decided to question.

"Uh, I asked him."

"I don't care what he calls himself, I don't like him," Dwalin once again complained about their smuggler.

"We do not have to like him, we simply have to pay him. Come on now, lads, turn out your pockets," unlike Thorin's commands, Balin's were gentle as he counted up the coins they had gathered so far.

Athena didn't need to turn out her pockets to know that she didn't have any form of currency lying within them, she had not thought to bring coin with her and even if she had done she was sure it would have fallen out by now.

"How do we know he won't betray us?" She overheard Dwalin quietly ask Thorin.

"We don't," was the king's reply, and he did not tell a lie. They had only just met this man so there was no guarantee he would be a trustworthy ally.

"There's um, just a problem. We're ten coins short," confessed Balin after he had counted all the coins that had been given.

Athena immediately looked over at Thorin, the both of them sharing an exasperated look as they knew who the culprit of the shortage would be. "Glóin, come on. Give us what you have."

"And all of it this time," Athena added on to Thorin's instruction.

"Don't look to me. I have been bled dry by this venture! And what have I seen for my investment? Naught but misery and grief and—" he cut himself off when he realised nobody was paying any attention to him anymore.

The company rose from their positions as the outline of a natural structure became clear through the fog, revealing the Lonely Mountain that they intended to reclaim much closer than it had been the last time they had seen it, it towering over them as they watched it with wide eyes, unable to look away from the mesmerising sight. They had actually made it. Almost.

"Bless my beard. Take it. Take all of it," Glóin handed a pouch of coins to Balin that he had been withholding from the company, seeing the mountain had given him a change of heart.

Bilbo cleared his throat to alert the rest of them to Bard who had begun to make his way across his barge to them, them prying their eyes away from Erebor to watch as he came up to them.

"The money, quick, give it to me," he ordered, his arm outstretched and waiting to be filled with coins.

"We'll pay you when we get our provisions, but not before," their leader spoke up with a firm voice.

"If you value your freedom, you'll do as I say. There are guards ahead."

They turned to where Bard had gestured his head towards the front of the boat, houses becoming apparent amidst the fog, lights in the distance guiding their way as a multitude of boats could be seen the closer they approached the outside of Lake-town, aptly named for being a town on top of a lake.