If This Is to End in Fire Chapter XV

Chapter XV: In Which Burglary Should Be Left to Hobbits

A/N: Picture is of my fancast of Dwalin, Idris Elba.

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“Don’t say it,” Thorin said.

“Say what, you majestic idiot?” Bramble said not-so-innocently.

“We need weapons and you will not know which to get,” Thorin said.

“Guns, swords, bows and arrows if possible, lots of ammunition. Big whoop,” Bramble said.

Thorin did roll his eyes at the comment. They all became quiet as a car drove by, its headlights barely missing the Dwarves. “Nori, Fíli, go!”

The thief and the princess ran to the edge of the sheriff’s department. They worked together to disarm the security system before Nori unlocked a window leading to a storage space.

Thorin, Bofur, Nori, Fíli, and Bramble shimmied their way through the window while the others kept watch. (Kíli tried to come as well, but Dís smacked him over the head.) Bramble was not as useless as Thorin imagined her to be in the armory. She was able to pick out decent weapons and found the ammunition.

Unfortunately, Nori missed the silent alarm and the group found themselves at gun point.

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The guards divided the group into two cells: one for the women and the other for the men. Dís was nowhere to be found.

Bramble banged her head against the cell doors. “48 hours? 48 hours and you’re back in jail again. I told you I could have done this myself!”

Thorin yelled back, “And you would have been caught!”

“And you could have broken me out! Instead, we’re stuck in here!” Bramble snapped back.

Thorin cursed in Khuzdul (to no one in particular) and Bramble joined him (though she aimed her cursing at the stubbornness of Dwarves). Nori tried to stealthily take out her earrings which doubled as lock picks.

“Both of you shut up!” Balin said. The two did so immediately. “It doesn’t matter either way. We just have to deal with the here and now.”

“And what do you suggest we do, nadad?” Dwalin said with no kindness in his tone.

“We need to plead out case as soon as possible,” Balin said.

“We have no leverage,” Thorin said.

“Which is why one should simply tell the truth,” Dís said as one of the sheriff’s deputies escorted her into the room, “Come on. We are going to see the Master.”

The cell doors opened. The sheriff and his deputies surrounded the Company and lead them out of the police department. Thorin made sure Fíli, Kíli, and Bramble were behind him and in the center of the group in case things turned sour. Dís and Dwalin walked at his side.

“What is going on?” Thorin said in Khuzdul.

“I went to that Alfrid fellow who is an assistant to the Master. I told them of our quest and how it was simply a… misunderstanding and we fully intended to pay for the weapons,” Dís explained in Khuzdul.

“We don’t have the money,” Thorin said.

“Ah, but we will,” Dís said.

“That is not a guarantee,” Thorin said.

“But they don’t know that,” Dís said, “I may have… exaggerated about our burglar.”

“What have you done?” Thorin growled.

“Just be your usual charming self, nadad,” Dís said in Westron with a sweet smile.

A crowd had gathered around the town hall. The Master and his assistant waited on the steps.

“What is the meaning of this?” the Master said, “You were caught stealing weapons which makes you enemies of the state. Are you mercenaries? Spies?”

Dís nodded to Balin, who stepped forward at her signal, “Master of Laketown, we come to you in peace. We are not mercenaries. We are the Dwarves of Erebor. This is our leader,” he motioned to the king.

Thorin said, “I am Thorin, son of Thráin, son of Thrór, King Under the Mountain! I have returned to reclaim the homeland of the Dwarves of Erebor!”

The crowd began whispering in shock of the news. They spoke of fairy stories and legends, gold and long-lost homes.

Thorin stepped forward. Before he could speak, Alfrid said, “And who can vouch for your claims? We only have the word of your supposed sister.”

Bramble raised her hand. “Me. I’ll vouch for him.” She stepped away from the Dwarves. “I am Dr. Bramble Baggins of Hobbiton University in the Shire. I am an expert about Elves, Hobbits, and dragons as well as currently studying about the Dwarves.”

Bramble tipped her head to Thorin before looking back up at the Master. “I am a Hobbit and we love our homes and dislike strangers. Yet I left my home to follow these Dwarves to reclaim Erebor.

“Now, I have traveled far with these Dwarves through great danger. Would I, an academic who is a homebody, go on a quest with just any passing stranger? Most certainly not! Thorin is King Under the Mountain and, more importantly, a good man. If Thorin Oakenshield gives his word, then he will keep it.”

The crowd cheered. Some of the Dwarves looked a bit bleary-eyed. Thorin could barely hold back a smile as he nodded his thanks to Bramble. What she said in Rivendell came back to him. There was no duplicity in her.

Turning his thoughts away from the burglar, Thorin addressed the Master and the crowd. “I remember this town in the great days of old. Fleets of boats lay at harbor, filled with silks and fine gems. Wagons came from all over this continent to trade for the smallest bit of our wealth. This was no forsaken town on a dying lake! This was the center of all trade in the southwest, making Santa Fe nothing more than a mere trading post.”

The speech certainly had the town’s attention. The only reason Laketown still existed was because it was the county seat. Laketown considered Santa Fe uppity and overbearing on the dying town.

Thorin turned completely to the townsfolk. “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!”

The crowd cheered. The Master was certainly interested now. Bard stepped forward through the crowd.

“Death! That is what you will bring upon us. Dragon fire and ruin. If you awaken that beast, it will destroy us all,” Bard said. She stopped in front of Thorin, tilting her head slightly to keep eye contact.

“You can listen to this naysayer, but I promise you this; if we succeed, all will share in the wealth of the mountain,” Thorin said, “The lake will return! You will have enough gold to rebuild Esgaroth ten times over!”

The crowd was in an uproar at the thought. Even if just the lake returned, the town would thrive. But the return of the true Esgaroth? It was beyond their greatest dreams.

Bard interrupted the celebration. “All of you! Listen to me! You must listen! Have you forgotten what happened to Dale? Have you forgotten those who died in the firestorm?” The people whispered what they did remember. “And for what purpose? The blind ambition of a mountain king so driven by greed, he could not see beyond his own desire!”

Thorin glared at Bard and was met with an equally intense stare of disdain. The masses were confused on how they should feel.

The Master spoke to calm the crowd. “Now, Mrs. Bargeman, your grief blinds you. Just because your husband did not take proper precautions going near the Lonely Mountain where bandits are known to reside, does not mean all who travel there are so reckless.”

“At least he tried to save this town, unlike you!” Bard snapped.

The Master held up his hands in a gesture of peace. “I did warn him of the dangers of the mountain, going there unarmed…”

“Because of your laws against weapons of any kind!” Bard accused.

“We must not, any of us, be too quick to lay blame. Let us not forget it was Girion, Lord of Dale, your ancestor, who failed to kill the beast!” The Master said as he pointed at Bard.

Thorin felt anger rise in his heart. This woman was the descendant of the one who could have saved Erebor. How dare she speak out against the dangers of the mountain and the dragon when it was her family’s fault Smaug lived?

Alfrid said, “It’s true. We all know the story: arrow after arrow he shot, each one missing its mark.”

Bard glared at Alfrid before looking back at Thorin. She spoke in a hushed, pleading tone. “You have no right to enter that mountain.”

The Dwarf king leaned down to Bard and said, “I have the only right.”

Bard closed her eyes in sorrow and defeat.

Thorin turned back to 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?”

The Master thought for several moments before smiling. “I say unto you... welcome! Welcome and welcome three times over!”

Thorin climbed the stairs of the hall. He and Bard glared at each other.

The Master threw open his arms and said, “Welcome Thorin, King Under the Mountain, and Bramble Baggins, Slayer of the Green Dragon!”

Thorin mentally patted himself on the back for not strangling Dís immediately. Bramble had the fortitude to not faint until the Company was left alone in a house the Master had prepared for them.