Bard had left them to gather the weapons they had paid for, Athena and Fili rejoining the others as they spoke quietly about the ending of their journey.
"Tomorrow begins the last days of autumn," Thorin reminded the five of them that had huddled together.
"Durin's Day falls morn after next. We must reach the mountain before then," Balin added on to Thorin's words.
"And if we do not? If we fail to find the hidden door before that time?" Kili asked, looking behind him to make sure Bard's children weren't listening in.
"Then this quest has been for nothing," Fili whispered after his brother.
"We cannot fail, so we will not fail," Athena reasoned. They were all desperate to have the quest work in their favour so they would do anything to ensure it ends in victory.
Their conversation came to an end when Bard returned, laying a thinly wrapped package on the table before unravelling the cloth and revealing what he had gathered for them to use as weapons. They were all hand-made, nothing like the Dwarves or Athena were used to. Meanwhile, Bilbo wasn't used to any weapon.
"What is this?" Thorin asked in contempt, holding up a harpoon attached to the end of a stick.
"Pike-hook. Made from an old harpoon."
"And this?" Kili asked, holding a large hammer in his hands.
"A crowbill, we call it, fashioned from a smithy's hammer. It's heavy in hand, I grant, but in defense of your life these will serve you better than none."
Athena held up a stick that had a blade on the end, it was dull but it would do the trick if she were to find herself in a sticky situation. As much as she appreciated the gesture, she knew that these would not be enough if they were to reclaim Erebor.
"We paid you for weapons. Iron-forged swords and axes!" Glóin loudly complained.
"It's a joke," Bofur cried before throwing his weapon to the table, the others following suit, everybody but Athena laying down the disheveled weapons.
"You won't find better outside the city armoury. All iron-forged weapons are held there under lock and key," Bard explained to the disappointed Dwarves.
"Thorin, why not take what's been offered and go? I've made do with less, so have you. I say we leave now," Balin reasoned with Thorin, knowing exactly what was going through his mind at the moment.
"You're not going anywhere," all eyes turned to Bard at his words.
"What did you say?" Dwalin asked, stepping towards him threateningly.
"There's spies watching this house and probably every dock and wharf in the town. You must wait till nightfall."
Upon the realisation that he was trying to help them rather than hinder them the Dwarves sat down once more, accepting his advice. He turned to leave the house, Athena stopping him when he was in the doorway by calling out his name.
"I just wanted to say thank you, for the weapons. Although it is different than what we are used to I understand that it was all you were able to conjure up, so for that I am grateful."
He nodded over at her in acknowledgement, sending her a small and gentle smile before he stepped out of the doorway. Athena now turned to Kili, furrowing her eyebrows as she watched him struggling with his injury.
"It's getting worse," she quietly spoke as she sat down beside him, resting her hands in her lap as he sent her a pained smile.
"I've had worse. I have no doubt it will pass," he tried to reassure, but his words did little to comfort her.
"You must allow someone to take a look at it, what if it's infected? Injuries like this don't normally have this effect."
"I will. When we reach Erebor, I don't want to slow down the company any further."
"You'll slow us down more if your condition gets worse," she tried to reason with his stubbornness, and just when he looked like he was about to agree with her they were interrupted by Thorin.
"We will go to the armoury and take what weapons we can use."
"Thorin... " Balin trailed off, but this was not a matter up for debate.
"These weapons will not be enough for us to take back our home," he retaliated, the rest of the Dwarves humming and nodding in agreement.
"He said that we had to wait for nightfall," Bilbo interjected, standing up from his seat.
"Night has almost fallen, it wouldn't make a difference if we headed off now," this time it was Dwalin who spoke up, backing Thorin completely.
And with that said they left the warmth of Bard's home, ignoring the protests of his son as they headed towards where Lake-town stored its weapons.
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They made their way through the streets of Lake-town, the cold air biting at their skin as they stuck to the shadows to keep themselves concealed from the watchful eyes of the civilians and guardsmen patrolling the docks.
"Get down," Athena quickly hissed at them from her place at the front of the group, all of them quickly ducking behind a boat as two guards walked past them.
They were lucky that they weren't caught with the hushed conversation that erupted with the Dwarves who couldn't see what was happening, Dwalin telling them to be quiet. Even when the guards left their sight they continued to be as quiet as possible.
"As soon as we have weapons we make straight for the mountain. Go, go, go," Thorin whispered before ushering them out of their hiding place and towards the armoury which stood only a few feet from them.
Several of the company had formed a pyramid with their bodies in order to allow the others to reach the second story window that they planned to climb through, it was the only entrance they had found that wasn't guarded or being watched by someone in the distance. Nori was the first to use his brethren as a set of stairs, making it through the window with no difficulties. Bilbo was second and the rest of them soon followed. Due to her advantage in height Athena was the last to go up, she hoisted herself through the narrow opening to see that the others were already busy at collecting weapons and she immediately pushed herself into the fray to gather what she could and help out those around her while the Dwarves they used to get themselves inside stayed ready and waiting to help them leave as well.
The weapons that they had stored here were considerably better than the ones Bard had provided them with. There was an array of axes and swords as well as the occasional bow and quiver, all of them were taking as much as they could carry with little consideration for what they were actually carrying. If it was sharp then they took it, they could decipher what weapons they'd all need when they left the building.
Athena had just picked up a sword that was held against the wall when she heard a familiar cry of pain and the clanging of metal resound through the entire building, it was loud enough to startle everybody in the vicinity and was sure to bring unwanted attention. Everybody froze in their places, nobody dared to move a muscle or even breathe too loudly as they listened to see if anybody outside had heard the commotion. Much to their dismay, they had. The sounds of men calling out to one another filled them with dread as footsteps hurriedly approached the trapped company.
She did not need to think before her body acted. She dropped her sword before rushing to where she knew Kili was with the intent to not only check to see that he was still alive but also to try and haul him up to escape with the others, her movements were halted though when she reached the top of the stairs, the cool metal of a blade being pressed against her throat as she stood at the top of the stairs looking down at the injured Dwarf that was in the same predicament as her. By the sudden silence that encompassed them she could tell that the others were also in the same situation.
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The guards of the town were not gentle in their methods as they led the Dwarves, Hobbit, and woman to the Master's mansion where they would answer to the Master himself. Curious eyes watched their every step, a crowd forming around the prisoners as they were pushed and shoved towards their destination. Most of them struggled against the iron grip of the men but those that knew they would not get far if they escaped didn't, nor did the ones who had no strength to fight back at the time. Athena knew it was pointless to struggle, so like Thorin she kept her rage silent.
They were brought before a set of stairs leading up to a large set of wooden double doors, the building was much bigger than the others that had been spread around Lake-town and it looked a lot cleaner from the outside as well. Where the others had been worn down from the harshness of the weather, this one stood tall and defiant against the winter that shrouded them. It took two of the watchmen to open the doors, a creak echoing in the night air.
"What is the meaning of this?!" A voice called out as the Master strode out of the confines of his mansion, still pulling on his coat to protect him against the biting cold.
To say that he was well-fed would be an understatement. Where most of the people in the town appeared to be low on food he seemed to have a plentiful amount locked behind his doors as well as the finest clothes she had seen in the entire town. He did not have a kind face, and from how he had kept Alfrid under his hire she did not believe he had a kind heart either.
"We caught 'em stealing weapons, sire," Braga explained.
"Ah. Enemies of the state then."
"This is a bunch of mercenaries if ever there was, sire," the slimy man beside him insulted.
"Hold your tongue," Dwalin seethed quietly with fury at the way they had been spoken to, fury at how his king was being referred to, "you do not know to whom you speak. This is no common criminal. This is Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror!"
At the introduction, Thorin stepped out of the company to make himself known to the Master and those around them that watched, murmurs breaking out as the people around them spoke amongst themselves at the revelation. Even the Master himself looked shocked at the words that had been spoken.
"We are the Dwarves of Erebor." The murmurs became more intense at the voice of the King under the Mountain. "We have come to reclaim our homeland. I remember this town and the great days of old. Fleets of boats lay at harbour, filled with silks and fine gems. This was no forsaken town on a lake! This was the center of all trade in the North. I would see those days return, I would relight the great forges of the Dwarves and send wealth and riches flowing once more from the halls of Erebor!"
At his speech the crowd roared with cries of agreement, clapping filling the air at the promise Thorin was giving the people of Lake-town. It didn't take a genius to see that the people of the town were not rich by any means, not with gold nor with food and clothes. It was no surprise that the thought of them being able to live comfortably without fear of starvation sent them into a frenzy of jovial cheers.
"Death! That is what you will bring upon us," a voice interrupted the merriment. Bard came walking through the company and into the centre where Thorin stood. Athena stepped to the side to move out of the way of the oncoming bargeman, a hand resting on Bilbo's shoulder to guide him with her but also to keep herself steady with her steps. "Dragon fire and ruin. If you awaken that beast, it will destroy us all."
"You can listen to this naysayer, but I promise you this, if we succeed all will share in the wealth of the mountain. You will have enough gold to rebuild Esgaroth ten times over!" Thorin called out to get the crowd back into agreement with him, using the other name that was appointed to Lake-town.
"Why should we take you at your word eh? We know nothing about you," Alfrid piped up. As much as she hated the man, it seemed that he at least had some semblance of common sense left inside him to doubt the strange band of Dwarves that had arrived on their doorstep, "who here can vouch for your character?"
Everyone watched on in silence, not even a whisper was heard as they waited for somebody to speak up. Who they would believe though was another tale entirely. If one of the other Dwarves spoke up it would not sway the trust of Alfrid or the Master, and Athena was too stricken by Bard's ominous interruption to fully comprehend what was going on.
"Me. I'll vouch for him," a small voice finally piped up, Bilbo raising a hand to draw more attention to himself, "I have travelled far with these Dwarves through great danger. If Thorin Oakenshield gives his word, then he will keep it."
"All of you! Listen to me! You must listen! Have you forgotten what happened to Dale?" Bard desperately called out when the cheering had begun once more, Athena's smile from Bilbo's words now turning into a frown at the mention of the city that lay in ruins. "Have you forgotten those who died in the firestorm?! And for what purpose? The blind ambition of a mountain king so riven by greed he could not see beyond his own desire!"
"Now, now, we must not, any of us, be too quick to lay blame. Let us not forget that it was Girion, Lord of Dale, your ancestor, who failed to kill the beast!" The Master hurried to shift the blame towards Bard despite his own words on not laying the blame to anyone.
It appeared that Thorin wasn't the only one who had been hiding his ancestry. Once again she found herself reminded of the black arrow that shot through the air at Smaug on the day of the destruction of Dale, she did not feel anger but she did feel the shock that came with the truth — as did the others.
"It's true, sire. We all know the story: arrow after arrow he shot, each one missing its mark," Alfrid added.
"At least he had the courage to try!" Athena found herself shouting out, stepping forwards with anger set on her usually soft features. "Tell me, would you have faced the dragon if it had stood before you or would you have cowered away like the rats you appear to have descended from?" She asked him, Glóin grabbing onto her arm and pulling her back to the company to stop her from saying anything else that could get them in trouble.
She did not care that Thorin wasn't pleased with her sticking up for the man that was defying them, but she knew firsthand the horrors of Dale, she saw the fear that clouded the judgement of some of what she thought to be the bravest of men. Alfrid and the Master had only heard tales of the tragedy that had struck that day. She could not silently stand by as they desecrated the memory of one of the only men that stayed to fight the hideous beast, whether he had failed or not.
Thankfully, the attention was drawn away from her outburst when Bard made his way to stand directly before Thorin. "You have no right, no right to enter that mountain."
"I have the only right," was his stern reply before he turned his back on him and faced the Master, "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?"
"I say unto you... welcome! Welcome and thrice welcome, King under the Mountain!"
The roars of cheering drowned out all other sounds around them, the people were rejoicing for their promised wealth to come and the Dwarves were reveling in their acceptance and allowance to continue on their quest. Though Athena was grateful that they would be able to continue, she could not manage to cheer like the others as the worrying words of Bard replayed in her mind like a broken record.