Jeweled dolls of Durin

dreams and pleas [mature]

A/N:(*) translation of some words are in my dwarvish dictionary..will be too sexy for translation here. look up if you want to know what means. sorry for inconvience but i do try and keep it not too mature just in case.

Laketown 2 days till Durins day:

Evening was falling quickly upon Lake-town, bringing with it softly falling snowflakes that danced upon the chilly breeze that blew. Into the twilights gloom a dark haired man was racing along the dilapidated walkways heading into a shop that was filled with trinkets and antiques, being greeted by a man behind the counter.

"Hello, Bard. What are you after?" shopkeeper sees Bard peering around..looking a bit frantic.

"There was a tapastry. An old one. Wheres it gone?" his voice held a hint of stress as he rushes over to a table filled with myraid assortments of cloth...rummaging around through them..hearing the keeper ask which one. suddenly his eyes alight upon the one he was searching for.

"This one." he quickly unfolds it out to look at it closely..peering at the Durin lineage till he sees the very thing he feared..Thorins name at the bottom. As his heart starts pounding in fear he hears town people outside gossiping about the dwarves some had seen earlier.

"What are dwarves doing in these parts?" he hears one man talking to another.

"Its the prophecy."...."Prophecy?"....."Prophecy of Durins folk." Bard hears all this as a chill of fear runs down his spine and he realizes what they are doing here in town. Thorin and his group were planning on taking the mountain back, as this thought comes to him he remembered a part of the prophecy he heard as a child..temporarily forgotten...now making its way back to him.

"And the bells shall ring in gladness at the Mountain Kings return. But all shall fade in sadness. And the lake will shine and burn." Bard turned around rushing out of the shop for his home..seeing his son Bain dash over to him..worry evident upon his face.

"Da! I tried to stop them." Bard placed his hands upon his shoulders to bring some semblance of comfort to his son as he gazed at the mountain in the distance..unease creeping into his heart at the sight. Knowing there was nothing he could do for now he lead his son back into the house...hiding his fears from his family.

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The dwarves were pushed and prodded down along the streets by the guards up to a large grey building that looked like it was the best building in town..which wasnt saying much. As they got closer a large portly man in a threadbare fur coat came out of some large doors..pushing his way past the weasily man alfrid they had seen earlier at the docks.

"What is the meaning of this?" he sneered out, looking down at the dwarves pushed before him as one of the guards remarked about them being thieves. Alfrid furthered the idea by calling them desperate mercenaries with a nasaly sounding voice.

"Hold your tongue!" Dwalin couldnt take such insinuations being spoken of about his friend , so he spoke out in his defense...taking a step closer to the pompous human. "You do not know to whom you speak. This is no common crimanal. This is Thorin. Son of Thrain, son of Thror!" at that moment Thorin stepped out to stand beside Dwalin and face up at the men before him...standing proud and strong.

"We are the dwarves of Erebor. We have come to reclaim our homeland." there was a murmur amongst the crowd as he just stared at the town master."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 center of all trade in the north!" Thorin walked up the steps closer to the master as he spoke then turned around, gazing upon the crowd that had gathered along the streets. Thorin lifted his head to gaze upon them ..standing proudly and with perfect nobility evident in his stance."I would see those days returned. I would relight the great forges of the dwarves and send wealth and riches flowing once more from the halls of Erebor!" a great cheer rang out through the crowd at the prospect of thier hardships ending...suddenly a voice rings out stopping the joyous sounds.