Chapter Eighteen

                                    

                                          
Chapter Eighteen
                          
His name was Bard. He was from Lake-Town, and he had three children. Though he was generally cranky towards us, he almost didn't seem to mind me. 
                          
The rest of the company sat towards the front of the barge, counting out the money to pay Bard. I sat back with him near where he was steering. Reluctantly, he spoke with me. 
                          
I asked about his children. How old they were, what they were like. Bard loved them, that much was obvious. His wife had died years ago, leaving his eldest child, Sigrid, to play mother for her younger brother and sister. 
                          
"Look out!" Bofur yelled from the front of the boat. 
                          
Bard had turned the wheel sharply, looking as calm as ever. 
                          
"What are you trying to do?" Thorin snapped. "Drown us?"
                          
Bard was still looking straight ahead, a rueful smile playing on his lips. "I was born and bred on these waters, Master Dwarf. If I wanted to drown you, I would not do it here." 
                          
Despite Thorin's obvious annoyance, I fought back a grin. I'd only ever heard Gandalf speak to the prince in such a manner. Up front, the men were arguing amongst themselves about who needed to pay more. They were so busy arguing, they almost didn't see the mountain. 
                          
I stood, a great lake stretching in front of me. This lake was the only thing between myself and the Lonely Mountain. The pale light of the day reflected off the water, casting everything into a golden haze. 
                          
Erebor. 
                          
"It's beautiful." I whispered. 
                          
For years, I had heard stories of the great mountain. Thorin had told me tales and sketched me maps of the fortress, but nothing could compare to the sight of our home. 
                          
My home. 
                          
"Come, Lady Ariel." Bard said quietly. 
                          
He rushed up towards the men, who were all staring up at the mountain, jaws slack with awe. I followed, tripping over my own feet. A million thoughts were racing through my mind, pounding against the inside of my skull. We're so close, I told myself. We're almost home.
                          
Bard's voice shook me from my trance. "The money, quick. Give it to me." 
                          
Thorin kept his back to Bard. "We will pay you when we get our provisions, but not before." 
                          
The Lakeman was dumbfounded at his stubbornness. "If you value your freedom, you'll do as I say. There are guards ahead." 
                          
There was a tense moment of silence. "For Durin's sake, just pay him." I sighed. Thorin shot me a look, but Balin handed over the money.
                          
Bard nodded. "Into the barrels. Now." 
                          
I didn't question in. Quickly, I hoisted myself over the ledge. Before I could sink down, a strong hand caught my arm. I looked up, expecting to see Thorin glaring at me, but instead, it was Kili. He searched my face intently. 
                          
"You trust him?" Kili asked. 
                          
I nodded without hesitating. "Yes." 
                          
Kili hand slid down my arm to cover my fingers with his. He dipped his head to meet mine, our foreheads touching. Our eyes locked, and for a single breath, the world melted away. I'd seen that look once before; in the moment before he kissed me. We were a hairs width apart, if even one of us moved forward, our lips would connect. 
                          
The moment was shattered. Dwalin pitched forward with a rock of the boat, knocking Kili to one side. He glanced back at me once, hazel eyes burning before I sunk down. I hugged my knees to my chest and threw my head back, hitting it against the barrel wall.