The Dragons' Daughter (Thorin Oakenshield/OFC)

Master of Lake-Town

The next day dawned cold and bright, and with Clarrei's stomach in knots of excitement. Today, they would receive weapons from Bard and they would begin training for the upcoming battle. There was still three days before they had to leave for Erebor, and Clarrei, though she had her fire, was eager to once again hold a blade. So imagine her disappointment when the bowman dropped a mismatched collection of fishing and what looked like disused farming tools on the table.
"What is this?" Dwalin hissed. "We paid you for real weapons, iron-forged swords and axes!"
The others echoed his disappointment, and Clarrei narrowed her eyes at the bowman.
"What is the meaning of this?" She demanded, crossing her arms over her chest in annoyance. "I thought you meant to help us."
The bowman looked pained.
"I do, but the true weapons in Lake-Town are locked up in the barracks. No one uses them anymore. We aren't allowed."
Clarrei turned to Thorin, and the pair of them seemed to come to the same conclusion. Identical grins spread across their faces before the prince turned back to Bard.
"And where are these barracks?"

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This was crazy. This was insanity. This was...brilliant. Thorin couldn't help but grin as the Company passed weapons amongst themselves. They had snuck into the weapons store through the use of a dwarf tower, and yes, that's exactly how it sounded. And weapons abounded! Swords, spears, harpoons and shields, Thorin felt like a young dwarrow left alone with the chef's cookies. The excitement was building in his stomach, and to stop himself from whooping in delight as they walked down the stairs, he planted a passionate kiss against Clarrei's lips, making her squeak in surprise.
"What was that for?" She asked breathlessly. Thorin just smiled and winked.
"Just in a good mood today, love." He whispered, before a loud crash made his smile vanish. He whipped round to see his youngest nephew lying at the bottom of the stairs, clutching his ankle and groaning in pain. His immediate concern was replaced with anger and panic when shouts and footsteps shook the small barracks. And to his utter dismay, he and his Company were seized and dragged into the streets. He and Clarrei exchanged a look, and he shook his head at her unspoken question. He had seen the slight spark at her fingertips, but no. He had a better plan to get the people to let them go.

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Clarrei looked around herself in fear as she and her friends were shoved to the front of what looked like a town hall. The small, rat-like man, Alfrid, was standing there, along with a balding, aged, overweight man who could only be Lake-Town's Master. As soon as she laid eyes on him, she shuddered. Though, that may have been caused by the look of desire he sent her.
"What is this?" The Master demanded, looking the Company up and down. "Why have you brought me these dwarves?"
"They were caught raiding the weapons store." Hissed Alfrid, his lips peeling back from his crooked, yellow teeth in a grin. The Master looked back at the Company, sneering.
"Nothing but common thieves." He said, to cries of outrage from the residents who now crowded around the small Company. Clarrei and Bilbo glared at the Master, the hobbit grasping the dragon's wrist in an attempt to stop her shifting. At the word 'thieves', Dwalin stepped forward and cried out in rage.
"Have care how you speak. This is not some common outlaw." He said, gesturing to their leader. "This is Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King Under the Mountain-"
Thorin raised a hand for his friend to stop. The dwarf prince stepped forward, turning to face the watching crowd.
"I remember this place in the days of old." He said, his deep voice echoing across the snowy square. "When this town was a trademark in the north. Ships adorned with jewels and fine silks."
And as he spoke, the townspeople's eyes grew wider, while the older members of the crowd grew misty-eyed with memories.
"With my help," Thorin continued, sending chills down Clarrei's spine as his voice rang through the cold night air. "I would bring back those days. With the gold inside Erebor, we could rebuild Esgaroth ten times over!" His cries were met with rousing cheers from the people, and the Master and Alfrid exchanged thoughtful looks. But one call was not one of joy.
"Dragon fire and ruin! That is what you will bring upon us!"
The Company turned to see Bard stride forward, his face dark with rage.
"Have you forgotten what happened to Dale?" He demanded, turning to his townsfolk. "Many of us lost families in that attack. If you awake that dragon, you will doom us all."
To Clarrei's disappointment, some people seemed to agree with the bowman.
"Bard, please," she begged. "We can help this town."
As she pleaded, the barge man suddenly turned his anger to her.
"You have no right. No right to enter that mountain." He added, looking Thorin square in the face. The prince bristled, but a sudden slap made him freeze in shock. Bard stared at Clarrei in surprise as his cheek grew steadily pinker. She finally allowed her eyes to shimmer gold, her teeth grow to fangs.
"We have the only right." She growled, making Bard shudder at her tone. She turned to Thorin, giving a wide, fanged smile, which he returned, before turning to the Master.
"What say you?" He asked calmly, his pale blue eyes burning. The Master looked at his people for a moment.
"I say unto you...WELCOME!"
His welcome of the dwarves resulted in a huge cheer from the crowd, who surged forward to meet their guests. Clarrei laughed as she saw Bifur trying to speak Khuzdul to a group of amazed children, Bofur translating. Even Bilbo was being fawned over by a group of older women, who seemed to believe he was a child. But the most amusing thing she had seen all day, and this had her leaning on Fili's arm to stop herself from falling from laughing so much, was Dwalin trying to speak to a very pretty young woman, and looking as though he was failing miserably, his tattooed head bright red as the girl giggled, also blushing. Thorin had noticed this and was watching Clarrei curiously.
"Was I that bad?" He asked, and Clarrei's smile was all it took for an answer.
"If I remember right, your mouth was hanging open." She said, chuckling and affectionately kissing his cheek.
"The Master has offered us all rooms in his house until we need to leave, medicine and food."
"What about weapons?" Asked Kili, wiping some sweat off his brow and failing to make it discreet. Thorin nodded.
"Weapons too."
Clarrei nodded thoughtfully, watching as Bilbo started coughing, and she remembered how long he had spent in the cold rivers of Mirkwood.
"I think staying would be wise."