Bard of Laketown

Part Fourteen

PART FOURTEEN

BARD'S POV
The journey back to the boat is quicker with only one, but lonelier too. I miss Areya and her easy smile, her eager questions.
Was I wrong not too go with them to help the dwarves? I push the thought out of my head just as quickly. I wouldn't fit in with them. I should know by now, I just don't fit in with anyone, with any race, not even my own.
When I get too the boat, I stop and look behind me, half-expecting Areya to run out of the fog and jump on the boat with me. I shake my head and lean down to pull out the stake. When I stand up, thirteen dwarves are standing in front of me.
One of them steps forward and bows to me. He has a friendly, open face and a long grey beard that curves up at the end. "Balin, at your service," he says, smiling.
I look over them. Most of them have dark eyes with distrust and- hate?- in them.
"We need a ride to your home, laddie," Balin says.
I shake my head. "Not going to happen."
"Please!" He starts to speak in the same voice that Tilda used when she was trying to help a stray cat.
I raise my eyebrow at him.
"A nice man like you must have children at home."
I nod. "Three."
"And a beautiful wife, no doubt."
I frown slightly. "She's dead."
He puts a hand on my arm. "Oh, that's something else, laddie. I'm very sorry."
I look at him. "Thank you, but apologies won't bring her back."
One of the other dwarves steps forward, and from the way he speaks it's clear that he's the leader of this company of dwarves. "Enough with the niceties, Balin. If he's not going to help us, so be it." His voice has a hard edge to it.
Balin sighs. "Try and be more respectful, why don't you, Thorin?" His voice is reprimanding.
"Are you Thorin Oakenshield?" I ask.
"Yes. And what of it?"
"I hear you are trying to reclaim Erebor," I say.
"And?" His voice is taunting, arrogant.
Balin pulls a small leather pouch from his pocket. "We'll pay you," he says.
"How much?"
"Fifty gold pieces."
I think about it. Fifty gold pieces is more than I make in a year. These dwarves are clearly very rich, though.
"Sorry," I say, turning to leave.
"Seventy-five, then!" Balin says from behind me.
I turn back, and hold out my hand. "Alright then." He drops the leather pouch into my hand, then reaches into his coat and pulls out another, smaller one.
One of the younger dwarves near the back steps forward, an angry look on his eyes. "That's nearly half our fortune!" he says. "And you've just given it to a stranger."
Thorin speaks. "Who is to say that he won't leave us on the shore of the lake, and gamble away our fortune?"
Balin speaks quietly, but I still hear every word clearly. "From the looks of it, Kili, Thorin, this man needs the money more than we do. Raising three children on his own cannot be easy work. Give him a chance."
"Are you coming or not?" I say. They step onto the boat, and I notice a halfling standing beside them. "And what are you doing with a company of dwarves?" I say to him.
He looks up, his brow furrowed. "I'm the burg- I'm Bilbo Baggins, of Bag-end."

I could have sworn he was about to say burglar, but I decide not to question him. Halflings are not a dangerous race.
I step onto the boat and begin rowing back to Lake-town.

A/N: WHOA!!! I DIDN'T MEAN TO WRITE AN ENTIRE CHAPTER FROM BARD'S POV, BUT IT WAS KIND OF COOL. WHAT DO YOU ALL THINK?? DO YOU LIKE WHEN I WRITE FROM HIS POV??