The Undecided Title Of Sara Miller *Hobbit Fanfiction* (Thorin/OC)

Chapter 57: Statis Quo

"Perhaps there is," admitted Thorin, rubbing at his chin with the back of his hand. "But it will mean revealing the truth about Sara."

"To who?"

"The bargeman, Ranson. By his own admission, and according to the Master's fears he holds great sway with the people."

"I get the impression that Ranson doesn't much enjoy the limelight."

"No, you are right. He doesn't want to draw attention to himself, but he may have no choice. His friend Eric is too reckless, over-sure of himself."

"Can we draw him out?"

"I believe so, but first I would like to speak with him again. There is more to Ranson than meets the eye."

They descended the watchtower and strode back out onto the boardwalk. As they passed shops and stalls they heard more snippets of whispered conversation in the fog. For the first time in days, the gossip was not about the elves or the dwarves staying with the Master. The energy was still there, but it had shifted from curious and hopeful to determined and secretive. Men never seemed to realize that just because their hearing was poor didn't mean other was.

Whispers were not the only thing that gave away the shifting tide in the town. A figure rounded the corner at speed and fairly bounded off Legolas' side, spilling the contents of the sack in his arms. Makeshift weapons clattered haphazardly onto the boardwalk at his feet. It wasn't until the boy's hood fell back as he looked around that Thorin recognized him to be Ranson's son, Bain. Hastily, Bian gathered the contraband collection and stuffed them back into the sack. Thorin reached down and hauled the boy to his feet. Bain stood almost a foot taller than Thorin, but judging by the arm in Thorin's grip, he lacked much of the strength of a grown man. He pulled the boy back around the corner and into an alleyway. There would be too many questions if the guards discovered Ranson's son with his bag of weapons.

"What is all this?" asked Legolas, holding out a crude knife that had eluded the boy's hands.

"It's none of your business, " said Bain, pulling his arm free before snatching the knife from Legolas.

"Where are you taking these and to what purpose? It wouldn't have anything to do with the whispers we have been hearing around town today would it?" asked the elf.

""What whispers?" said Bain. "Don't know what you're talking about." Legolas wrapped the boy's skull with his knuckles.

"The whispers about a rebellion," stated Thorin flatly. The boy's face blanched.

"Does your father know where you are?" questioned Legolas pointedly. The boy's silence was answer enough.

"Eric put you up to this didn't he?" pressed Thorin. "He is behind this movement is he not?" Bain just stared back at him balefully.

"We don't wish you any harm," said Legolas. "We don't want to get involved, but don't you think you owe it to your father to at least tell him of your plans?"

"Father would not approve," muttered Bain.

"What if something should happen to you?" coaxed Thorin. "Or did it not occur to you that you might end your short life on the end of a sword this night?"

"Don't let Eric lead you blindly," said Legolas, folding his arms over his narrow chest.

"I'm no fool," argued Bain defiantly, glaring back at them. "The Master is a tyrant, ending him and his guards is the only way to bring peace to our town. You would not understand. Even my own father will not see sense." Thorin glanced meaningfully at Legolas.

"Our years far outnumber yours," said Legolas. "I feel it safe to say we understand the situation far better than yourself."

"Has it occurred to you that perhaps your father knows something you don't?" prompted Thorin. "That he has had a reason for not acting upon up to this point?