"What's that supposed to mean?" Bain asked after she finally let him go.

"It means exactly what it sounds like. You all need to get to safety. I'm sorry I cannot tell you more." And with that, Agarwaen was out the door and had caught up to the dwarves. It took a few minutes, but they finally located the armory, and a high window to the back of it. They improvised and climbed on each other's backs to make a dwarf staircase. Nori was the first one into the window, then Bilbo, then Agarwaen. She stepped lightly on their backs, and landed silently on the wood floor inside. Bofur, Kili, and Thorin followed after her, and they all started collecting weapons to take out to the others. Agarwaen slung a bow and a quiver full of arrows over her shoulder, then grabbed a few swords. Thorin handed Kili an armful of weapons to take back outside to the others, and it seemed everything would go according to plan, when Agarwaen jumped at the sound of crashing. Kili had fallen down the stairs and dropped everything he was carrying. Surely the entire town had heard them now.

Sounds of shouting were heard from behind walls, and within seconds, spears and swords were at everyone's necks. Agarwaen sighed and put down everything she carried. They had three days, and three days only. They could not afford to sit in jail. Perhaps they could strike a deal with the master of the town.

The guard who held his sword to Agarwaen's throat grabbed her arm, and she was the first to be ushered out, followed by everyone else who was in the armory. Those who had been the stairs outside joined them upon exiting the building, also detained. The townsfolk all around poked their heads out of their windows to see what all the commotion was about, and those who were still out and about formed a crowd around the company. They were then brought before a rather large house, presumably where their ruler lived.

"What is the meaning of this?" A large red-haired man reminding Agarwaen of the late goblin king walked out.

"Caught them stealing weapons, sire." A guard announced.

"Ah, enemies of the state, eh?" The man sneered.

"The makes for a bunch of mercenaries if ever there was, sire." Another gross looking man with oily black hair said. Now that the company stood together with no way of escape, Agarwaen ripped her hands loose from the guards grasp and rubbed her wrists.

"Hold your tongue." Dwalin growled and stepped forward. "You do not know to whom you speak. This is no common criminal, this is Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror!" Thorin stepped forward as well.

"We are the dwarves of Erebor. We have come to reclaim our homeland." He spoke. Whispers erupted throughout the crowd, and Agarwaen just crossed her arms and waited to see how this would go. Thorin went on to speak of how this town used to be the center of all trade in the north, and promised that he would return it to its former glory with riches. The crowd cheered in support, but Bard interrupted.

"Death!" He shouted as he pushed his way through the mass. "That is what you will bring upon us. Dragonfire and ruin. If you awaken that beast, it will destroy us all." Agarwaen looked at Thorin, and both of them knew that if they wanted to make it out of here, if they wanted to make it to the mountain, they would have to convince the town to disregard Bard's words. As much as that pulled at her conscience, it had to be done. The snow falling from the sky provided extra uneasiness, as it was a reminder of how much time they had left.

"You can listen to this nay-sayer, 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!" Agarwaen did not pretend to cheer with the group. Bard was right, and fooling these people into thinking he was wrong made her stomach churn with the all-to-familiar question beginning to make her head throb. The right choice or the easier choice. But which one was which? If they failed to retake the mountain and war raged, what then? But Laketown would burn on the other hand. Neither option was good. Both ended in death.

"All of you, listen to me!" Bard yelled. "You must listen to me! Have you forgotten what happened to Dale? Have you forgotten those who died in the fire storm?" She surely had not, and the crowd mumbled amongst themselves again. "And for what purpose? The blind ambition of a mountain king." He glared at Thorin. "So driven by greed he could not see beyond his own desire!" Agarwaen closed her eyes and sighed. He spoke the truth, but to speak it in front of Thorin was a bad idea.

"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 town's master replied, pointing an accusatory finger at Bard. So he was who Gandalf spoke of when she was first talked into joining this quest.

"It's true sire," The black haired man added. "We all know the story. Arrow after arrow he shot, each one missing its mark." Bard then approached Thorin.

"You have no right. No right to enter that mountain."

"I have the only right." Thorin replied before turning 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?"

"I say unto you, welcome! Welcome, king under the mountain!" The crowd erupted in cheers once more, and the company breathed an unsettling sigh of relief.

"I'm sorry." Agarwaen muttered to Bard as he walked past, on his way out of the crowd.

"Sorry? That's all you have to say? You will bring death upon us all!" He hissed, before moving on. She weaved between the guards behind her and chased after him, grabbing his sleeve as they reached the edge of the crowd.

"Bard." She called. He looked back at her and shook his arm free. "Do you have anywhere else you can go? I can't tell you much, but this quest is about more than just the mountain. Should things happen the way the wisest men in Middle Earth think they will, this land will see much more ruin and death than what a dragon can bring."

"What do you mean?"

"You're smart. I think you'll figure it out. I just need you to take your children and get as far away from here as you can."

"We have nowhere else to go." He shook his head.

"Then arm yourselves and be prepared. I will try to the best of my ability to repay your kindness to us."

"What can you do?" He asked.

"I am only in the dwarves' service until we find a way into the mountain. After that, I will come back and help." Bard nodded silently, thinking.

"I have little trust in you after this, but if you do come back I will be forever grateful. There is obviously no stopping you all, so just go." He turned and walked away from her again. Her shoulders slumped and she returned to the company just as they were being led inside the master's house.

"You're rather tall for a dwarf, aren't you?" The black haired man said, stepping in front of the door as she climbed up the front steps.

"She is a friend, and our guide." Dwalin glared at the man from inside, prompting him to step aside and let her in.

"The name's Alfrid." He gave her a yellow toothed grin as she passed. She ignored him and joined the rest of her company.

They were granted all the clothes, food, weapons, and supplies they could carry. The weapons weren't exactly the best make, but they would do far better than what Bard had offered them. They told the master briefly of their journey over some wine. It wasn't very good wine to her taste, but Agarwaen was used to ales, meads, and elven wine, so she couldn't complain.

"Beautiful women like yourself are hard to come by in this town, you know." Alfrid tried his luck with her again. Fili heard him, and was about to tell him to scram, but he didn't have to.

"So are handsome men, it would seem." She sipped her wine without even looking at him. Fili sniggered behind her.

"Being rich can overrule that, I think." She eyed him up and down.

"Thostog hui úan." She said, her voice laced with grace.

"Such a beautiful language, that of the elves."

"Hmm, indeed. Would you like a translation?" She smiled and looked at him through her lashes.

"Of course." He grinned.

"You smell like a monster." She said with a tone not quite matching her words. His smile vanished, and a sour look quickly replaced it before he grumbled under his breath and walked away.

"Good luck to any man who tries to get your attention." Fili leaned over with a grin.

"Oh, those are just lines I tend to use on the regular. An elf must learn how to handle herself in taverns and inns when it comes to desperate men."

"What else do you say to them?"

"A variety of things. It all depends on the situation, really. One of my favorites is: Mítho orch, go kiss an orc, or thiach uanui ar naneth chîn chen hamma, which means you're ugly and your mother dresses you." Fili was beside himself in laughter.

"Well, if any dwarf ever bothers you, violently or otherwise, just tell him he is a kakhuf inbarathrag. A goat turd."

"Isn't your language sacred and to be used only by dwarves?" Agarwaen asked, surprised that he had told her the meaning of a word, even if it was just an insult.

"Well, yes..." He scratched the back of his neck. "But it was just an insult."

"Don't get yourself in trouble, Fili. I'll just call them goat waste in westron. Much easier for them to get the picture that way anyway."

"True. Is the elven language sacred?"

"Not really. It's mostly just that it is hard for others to learn. But it is not extremely rare for the race of men to understand or speak elvish. That's why I'm using my other name right now. If someone were to understand that my name means bloodstained, they might think twice about letting me into their home and helping us."

"That makes sense." Fili nodded.

After a few hours of making preparations, it was finally dawn, and the company was escorted to a canal in the center of town where a boat waited.

"Where's Bofur?" Agarwaen asked.

"Likely oversleeping. We can't afford any more delays so he will have to stay behind." Thorin's eagerness to reach the mountain seemed to double overnight. She understood why, seeing as they had about 36 hours to find the door, and they still had to walk to the mountain. But leaving Bofur behind...it worried her. He'd come all this way to reclaim Erebor with his kin just as the rest of them had. Agarwaen climbed into the boat, and was about to be followed by Kili when Thorin stopped him.

"Not you. We must travel with speed and you will slow us down." Agarwaen looked on in disbelief. They didn't have much time, but they had enough. Kili was third in line for the throne. He should get to see his home with them. If she could have traded places with him, she would have.

Kili protested but Thorin insisted he stay behind to rest and join them later. Another thought crossed her mind that scared her. The dragon would come for Laketown. What if Kili was killed in the fire? Oin and Fili then both decided to stay behind with the dark haired prince, and Agarwaen couldn't seem to find her voice to argue with Thorin about this.

"Kili?" She asked.

"I'll be fine." He muttered to her sadly as the sound of trumpet music filled the air and the master made a short speech to send them off. Dori, Nori, Bifur, and Dwalin then began rowing and the boat had soon left the town. The whole way to the shore was quiet, save for the water lapping at the boat and the occasional dwarf clearing their throat. Having left four of the company behind, none of them felt quite at peace, even though their long awaited destination was now so close.