The Dragons' Daughter (Thorin Oakenshield/OFC)

Welcome to Esgaroth

The Company glared as one at their dark-haired assailant.
"Who are you?" Thorin demanded, stepping forward. The stranger lowered his bow, raising an eyebrow at the prince.
"I could ask you the same question."
Thorin's scowl deepened, but calm, collected Balin stepped forward, his hands raised in surrender as the bowman turned his weapon to the white-haired dwarf.
"Excuse me," he said, with a little smile, "but, you're from Lake-Town?"
The mysterious figure narrowed his eyes, but nodded.
"That boat wouldn't be for hire, by any chance?"

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As the tall man threw barrel after barrel, he asked Balin.
"So who are you?"
"Simple merchants from the Blue Mountains, off to visit our kin in the Iron Hills." He lied smoothly, making Thorin grin at his old friend. It was then Bard caught sight of Clarrei.
"And her?" He asked, nodding to the disguised dragon. Thorin put his arm around her protectively.
"My wife." He said, as Clarrei blushed furiously.
"I see no rings."
"Stolen from us," Clarrei managed to stutter. "By bandits."
The bowman watched them for a little more before continuing to load the ship. Clarrei looked up at Thorin, who smiled.
"Your wife?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. Thorin chuckled, though his chest constricted with nerves.
"Is there such a problem with that? It's easier to believe that we are married anyway. I don't want him thinking you're a..."
"A harlot?" She finished, smirking. Thorin smiled, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Yes, that."
Clarrei smiled, before turning to the man and studying him with interest.
"Those boots have seen better days. And so has that coat." She remarked, taking in the man's shabby, disheveled appearance. He looked up at her, his eyes softening slightly as her calming effect took hold. "And I would wager you had some hungry mouths to feed back home?"
The man froze at her words, and Balin realised where she was hinting at.
"Come on, lad, how many bairns?"
"A boy, two girls."
"And your wife," The white-haired dwarf continued. "She's a beauty?"
The bowman seemed to stare into the distance at a memory.
"Aye." He said. "She was."
The dwarves all shot a look to Balin, who closed his eyes in embarrassment. Clarrei went to pat the man's shoulder, before stopping.
"I'm sorry." She sympathised. She turned to Thorin, who was watching her with an odd look. Almost a look of fear, and such uncomprehensible love that it almost frightened her. She smiled softly at him, realising he was imagining life without his One. She had nearly spent a moment of her life without Thorin after finding him, and that had been hell on earth. Shaking her head, she turned to the bowman.
"What is your name?" She asked, as he shook himself from his reverie. He looked at the group before turning back to Clarrei.
"Bard. My name is Bard."

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If he had known how cold it was going to be on this accursed boat, he might have asked to borrow their ferryman's jacket. Thorin shivered, standing at the front of the boat. Still, he thought, watching the ice flows float away from the helm. If it got him to his Mountain on time, he didn't care. Muttering amongst his Company made him look round.
"I don't trust him."
"Weird looking fella."
"Oh, Bard, his name's Bard."
That came from Clarrei and Bilbo, both of them the only two who actually seemed appreciative of the bowman's help. Thorin chuckled, wrapping an arm around Clarrei's shaking shoulders.
"What about my pay?" Bard demanded from the steering wheel of the ship. At this, Thorin couldn't help but glare at their ferryman.
"We will pay you when we reach the other side." He said, his voice dangerously low. But he still looked to his Company.
"Check your pockets." He hissed, beginning to search his own. They knew any of their remaining funds had been taken by Mirkwood Elves, but still, perhaps a few of them had money left. One by one, they threw down what little money they had. Balin counted, sighing in annoyance.
"We're still ten short." He said, looking directly at Gloin, who had yet to make a donation. The red-headed dwarf crossed his arms and huffed irritably.
"I will not." He protested, though a searing look from his future queen's now-gold eyes made him falter. "This quest," he continued, avoiding eye contact with Clarrei, "has left me cold, hungry, and very well near ripped to shreds, but it will not rob me of..."
He trailed off as he saw what the Company now watched with wide, transfixed eyes. Through the swirling mist, a huge, looming shape had appeared. The Mountain. Gloin suddenly produced a purse of silver.
"Take it. Take all of it." He said, hastily pushing the leather bag into Balin's surprised hands. Clarrei's eyes cooled to blue as the shock began to set in. Her father was so close, she could practically smell him. She began to shake, her hands curling into fists, claws drawing blood from her palms. Hot tears poured down her face. Tears of rage. She would end this herself, she decided then. She must be the one to kill the monster, this plague. A sudden hand on her shoulder made her look round. Thorin watched her, an unspoken question in his eyes. Clarrei nodded, leaning her head against his chest, wrapping her arms around his broad frame. He returned the embrace, planting a soft kiss to her head, letting her cry softly into him. He gently brushed away her tears, tracing the scars on her face, finding her ever more beautiful.
"Get in the barrels." Came a sudden voice. Thorin looked up, glaring at the bowman, who had left his post. Even Fili and Kili shook their heads in annoyance at their ferryman.
"You had to ruin the moment, didn't you?" The injured of the two groaned, balancing awkwardly on his bad leg. Bard just gave the boy a look, before turning back to the prince.
"There is a guard at the gate, you will not be able to pass unless you hide."
Thorin gave the barrels a wary look, before nodding to his Company.
"Get in."

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"More bloody barrels." Bofur muttered under his breath as the dwarves climbed into their fish-filled transport. Clarrei grimaced as she slid into her own barrel. She peered through the hole in the centre of the barrel and watched in fear as they docked for a short time.
"What's he doing?" Dwalin hissed as they watched Bard speak with someone who seemed a friend. Bilbo had the best view of the pair.
"He's talking to someone...they're shaking hands...and he's pointing right at us!"Clarrei flung her back against the wall of the barrel, her heart pounding with rage at the betrayal. How could he? But when the barrel opened, she nearly laughed with relief. It was only fish that poured in, rather than an unfriendly face. It was only when the barrel covered her once more that she realised the awful truth. She was stuck in a barrel of dead fish.

As the boat rocked back and forth, Clarrei's stomach churned. It took all her strength not to throw up what little was in her belly, and she peered out of the little peephole, feeling a mixture of relief and nerves. They were swiftly sailing towards a gate-post, where a man with a scraggly beard and scruffy clothes hailed their ferryman.
"Hello, Bard!"
"Hello Percy."
"Been fishing again?"
"Anything to help the people here. You know they need food."
"Of course. Raise the gate!" Percy called to the men who stood at the levers to the gates of Lake-Town.
"Not so fast." Came a snide voice. Clarrei swivelled her eye around to see a small rat-like man with stringy black hair and smart-looking black robes walking forward with a smirk on his face.
"Entry permit, Bard." He said, showing his yellowed teeth in a grin. Clarrei heard Bard chuckle, and to his credit, there were no nerves in his voice when he spoke.
"Of course." There was a rustling of paper, and the rat-faced man spoke again, this time with a triumphant tone in his voice.
"This permit is good for fourteen empty barrels, and I see barrels full of fish."
There was a slight smell of fear from the bowman now.
"Come on, Alfrid, these people are starving, they need food."
"This is illegal fish, Bard," the man, Alfrid spat, before saying the words that set Clarrei's heart pounding. "Dump it."
And to her horror, she heard the barrel next to her being tipped, the fish inside tumbling into the water. Any longer and the dwarf inside would be discovered. She readied her fangs before Bard spoke again, his voice cool and collected.
"And what will the people of Lake-Town say when they find out the Master is dumping fish back into the ocean? There'll be uproar." He added, and Clarrei could practically see Alfrid's little face realising the issues. After what seemed like an eternity, he gave the order.
"Leave it." It seemed to hurt him to say the words. And as the boat began to pull away, Alfrid called to Bard.
"Don't forget, Bard, the Master knows where you live!"
To which the reply was:
"It's a small town Alfrid. Everybody knows where everybody lives."

A.N.// Bard the Sassmaster strikes! That was actually my favourite line in that movie, so it made me laugh so much to write it. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, let em know what you think in the comments, but guys, I try to get out as many chapters as I can as quick as I can, so please don't comment asking me to update, I want to read what you guys like about the chapter, not that you want more, because I will get them out as quick as I can. I hope you liked this chapter, and I'll see you soon!💐