I know I am changing this part of the movie a little; but this story has been fighting to get out, so I hope you will forgive me.
Bard looked at the dwarves, as they put on the clothes and wrapped themselves in the blankets that the boatman and his children had given them. He had always been good at getting himself in situations, or should that be, trouble; situations that were the reason he was currently being watch. But dwarves, well, that was something else. Something he had not expected to find when he had taken his barge out that morning.
"Da, what are we going to do?" Bain questioned, as he came to join his father. Bard chewing on the inside of his mouth for a moment; going over all the courses of action in his mind, before grabbing his son by the shoulder and pulling him out of the room.
"Go get (Y/n). They might not like it; but if anyone can make sense of this, it will be her." Bard said quietly. Bain nodding before quickly making his way to the door of the small home. The young man hugging the shadows of the rickety wooden buildings, as he quickly made his way to the edge of town.
(Y/n), or as she was known 'the elf of Lake-town', had supposedly been living on the banks of the Long Lake long before the first wooden pillars had been sunk into the bed of the expanse of water, that sat at the meeting of the Forest River and the River Running at its northern reaches. No one knew whom she called kin; most just believing that she had to have been of the Woodland realm, as Mirkwood was the closest elven settlement to the town of men; and that for some reason she had decided to leave, or perhaps been banished from the kingdom of Thranduil. But whatever the truth was, Bard knew that he could trust her. The elf, the only one in Lake-town that could stand up to the Master and his men and get away with it; the only one that could send away the sycophantic Alfrid, with a flea in his ear, and have no fear of recourse. The boatman feeling a smile coming to his lips, as he recalled one day, whilst the two had been talking, Alfrid had interrupted, and presented the beauteous elven maid with a bouquet of what he had called flowers; but were most certainly weeds, in an attempt to achieve what, Bard was still not sure. Yet as the snivelling creature had looked up at the statuesque elleth, she had bashed him over the head with said bouquet and sent the Lickspittle, on his way. Calling out to the master's so-called counsellor, in her language, as he had scurried away, like the cockroach that he is. Bard not able to understand what the words were, but sure that none of them were polite; especially given the fire in her eyes.
"Da.........." A voice came, bringing Bard back to that moment.
"What are you doing back so quickly..........?" The boatman asked quietly, as he made his way over to his son. Sure, that Bain had not been gone long enough to get to the elf's home, and back again.
"I was with Marta, seeing if I could help ease her pain a little. This cold weather does nothing for her. I saw Bain making his way passed the window........" Another voice interrupted, before a tall figure stepped into the home. The youngest of the children quickly making her way over and wrapping her arms around the visitor.
"Hello, my sweet little one." The guest continued, brushing a hand over Tilda's hair, before turning their attention to her father.
"Well, what are you up to now, Bard? Bain was trying to tell me something about............." The words taken from her, as they all moved into the other room; dwarves jumping up, as the hooded figure came into view.
"Dwarves............" She added, as the elleth pulled down her hood, and stared in disbelief. It being many a moon since she had set eyes on one of their kind.
"An elf.........." One of the larger dwarves called out, as he glared up at her.
"See, I told ya that he would betray us........." He continued, taking a step forward and drawing himself to his full height.
"Oh, do be quiet, you annoying thing. No one has betrayed anyone..............Now, Bard.........." The elleth chastised. A scowl coming to his face, as she turned her back to Bard. The rest of them looking at one another, not sure what to do.
"Where did you find thirteen dwarves, and a hobbit, of all things.......?" (Y/n) enquired, as she caught sight of the little man, from the corner of her eye.
"On the lake, bobbing up and down in barrels..........."
"Barrels........?"
"Aye, from Mirkwood............." Bard told her. The elleth turning, to look back at the smaller men that were still all glaring at her.
"You were in Mirkwood..........?"
"Yes........." A pale haired, older dwarf replied as he stepped forward. Giving the elleth a smile.
"We are merchants, and............"
"You are lying. Thranduil has no time for dwarves, and dwarves have no time for him. Not since Thrór refused to give him the White Gems of Lasgalen, and he in turn refused to help the inhabitants of the Lonely Mountain after........after.........." (Y/n) retorted, her eyes growing wide. The elleth looking around their number, until they landed on one. One who held himself like no other. One whose eyes looked as dark as the lake that lay beneath them, as he stared at her. His jaw set firm, as she took a step closer to him.
"The lord of silver fountains. The King of carven stone. The King beneath the mountain shall come into his own! And the bell shall ring in gladness at the mountain King's return. But all shall fail in sadness and the lake will shine and burn." The elleth said, feeling the breath catching in her throat, as the prophecy slipped from her tongue.