The Last of the Guardians Part 2 - A Hobbit Fan Fiction

Chapter 17 - The Master of Laketown

They had no idea whether making their true identities known would bring the Lake Men to their cause, or whether it would land them in chains. But Dwalin would not be deterred.

"This," he said, "is Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror. King Under the Mountain! I would have you show more respect to a king."

His words sent a murmur through the crowd. Thorin stepped forward so they could better see him, saying, "We have come to reclaim our homeland - to reclaim Erebor. If you aid us in our quest I promise you that you shall no longer have to live in fear. We will slay the dragon and-"

"-No!" cried a voice from the crowd. Bard pushed his way to the front, red-faced and wide-eyed in his panic. "You must not enter that mountain."

Thorin glared at him. "And who are you to deny me my throne? Who are you to say what I must not do?"

Bard gave him a pleading look. "Thorin, you must not do this. If you awaken that beast it will destroy us."

But Thorin had already turned away. "You can listen to this ney-sayer, but I promise you, if we succeed all shall share in the wealth of the mountain."

A cheer rose up from the crowd, so loud that Kili felt his ears ring painfully. Even the fat man on the platform had a sly smile upon his face. But Bard would have his say. 

"Listen to me!" He called to the crowd. "Listen! Have you forgotten what happened to Dale? Have you forgotten those who died in the firestorm? And for what did they die? The blind ambition of a mountain king so driven by greed he cannot see beyond his own desires!" He faced Thorin. "Wreck and ruin - that is what you will bring upon us. Not gold, nor safety. Only death. You have no right to enter that mountain.

Thorin locked eyes with Bard. "I have the only right." He said quietly, before showing the bargeman his back and looking to the Master of Laketown. "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? What say you?"

The Master looked back at Thorin with narrowed eyes. To Kili, the pause seemed to last an eternity as every man and woman waited with bated breath. "I say unto you," he said finally, "welcome. Welcome, and thrice welcome, King Under the Mountain!"

***

Nema watched the rejoicing crowd from a nearby roof. A small sense of relief at the Master's words calmed her, as for a moment, it had looked as though he would refuse Thorin's offer. She had no idea what the dwarves would have done if the Master had turned them away and thrown them in cells. 

Later that night, a feast was held in honour of the dwarves. Music could be heard from every house, and the air was filled with the scent of sumptuous food. Every man, woman and child made merry that night

"There is another of our company that I would have you meet." Thorin's voice drifted up from the Master's balcony where the dwarves were dining on fish and mead. Nema sighed, unsure whether she felt like joining their celebration. "Nemaiza!"

At Thorin's call, Nema rose from the roof and landed neatly on the balcony rail. The Master's mouth fell open and a piece of half-chewed fish fell onto his belly. "What kind of creature is that?" He asked, unable to tear his eyes away from Nema's wings.

"The kind that you do not need to concern yourself with," Nema replied, her voice devoid of emotion. "I doubt my kind would ever waste their time on a man like you."

The dwarves paused in their feasting. 

"Nemaiza," Thorin said, his voice half-scolding, half-soothing. He apologised to the Master, explaining how long and taxing their journey had been, and that Nema was merely tired. It was not until a few hours later when the Master had fallen asleep where he sat, drool seeping into his beard, that Thorin came to speak with his Guardian. 

"Where is S-"

"Gone," she replied sharply. She was now perched on the balcony, her back to the dwarves, her eyes on the dark shape of the mountain in the distance.

"May I ask what happened?"

"We fought. He left." There was more to it than that, Nema knew. but for now she could not bear to dwell on her fight with the Guardian. She could not even stand the sound of his name. "What is that?" She asked, gesturing to a strange contraption sitting atop a tower on the north side of the town. She did not care to know the answer, but it was better than talking about him.

Thorin looked in the direction she was pointing. "That is a wind lance," he told her. "I have not laid eyes on such a weapon since the city of Dale was on fire. SInce the day the dragon came. It was designed to kill dragons."

"Why did it fail?"

"The day the dragon came, Girion, the Lord of Dale, rallied his bownmen to fire upon the beast. But a dragon's hide is tough - tougher than the strongest armour. Only a black arrow fired from a wind lance can pierce a dragon's hide, and few such arrows were ever made. There were but five when Girion made his last stand. Arrow after arrow he sent at the dragon and not one met it's mark." Thorin turned away from the wind lance to dispel the rising anger he felt. "If the aim of men had been true that day much would have been different."

Hearing the bitter tone in the dwarf's voice, Nema placed a hand over his. "We will get it back," she assured him. We will reclaim Erebor and avenge our dead."

***Thank you all for being so patient! I'm sorry I've not been able to update until now, but I finally have the time to focus on LOTG! This chapter is a little bit...off but I didn't want to delay anymore. I just need to get back into it so hopefully the next one will be better ;) Thanks for reading! X***