𝐄𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐘━︎━︎L. Greenleaf

❝CHAPTER TWELVE❞

▌𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞 ━︎━︎ 𝐏𝐨𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧 ▌

━︎━︎━︎━︎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 as soon as Bard left the home, despite Ellaria's protests. They were going to try and get the weapons that were behind a lock and Ellaria was forced to keep watch seeing as she could easily hide in the shadows. She crouched down, her eyes narrowing as she watched the area. They snuck in easily enough, it was when they were trying to leave that she became alert. Kili tumbled down the stairs, the weapons clanging loudly as he did so. Shouting was heard in the distance and despite her attempts to warn them, they were easily surrounded by guards. A soft curse left her lips, watching as they were hauled off.

She jumped from roof top to roof top, following closely after them. They were lead to the biggest house in the two, placed before the steps and a large man came barreling out the door. Ellaria notched her bow, aiming for his throat and prepared herself to release the arrow at the first sight of harm. "What is the meaning of this?!" The man shouted, adjusting his night coat on his body.

"We caught 'em stealing weapons, sire." One of the guards answered.

The man, who she easily assumed was the master, smiled. "Ah. Enemies of the state, hm?"

Alfrid was standing beside him, an all too pleased look dancing across his features. "A desperate bunch of mercenaries, if ever there was, sire."

"Hold your tongue!" Dwalin growled. For once, Ellaria wished the Dwarves would keep their mouths shut, then maybe they'd be able to get out of this. She kept going back and forth between the master and Alfrid. Although the sire's right hand man was clearly harmless, she simply didn't like the guy. Dwalin stepped forwards. "You do not know to whom you speak. This is no common criminal." He pointed towards Thorin. "This is Thorin, son of Thrain, son Thror."

Thorin stepped forwards, placing a hand on Dwalin's shoulder before letting it dropped. He stared at the master. "We are the Dwarves of Erebor." The crowd surrounding them began to murmur. "We have come to reclaim our homeland." Thorin grew closer. "I remember this town in the great days of old. Fleets of boats lay at harbor. . . filled with silks and fine gems. This was no forsaken town on a lake. This was the central of all trade in the North." He began addressing the crowd. "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!"

"Death!" Bard's voice silenced them as he pushed through the crowd. "That is what you will bring upon us! Dragon fire and ruin. If you waken that beast, it will destroy us all."

A muscle ticked in Thorin's jaw as he stared at the man. "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!" The crowd cheered.