When in doubt, jump in head first

18. The Laketown pit stop

"Who're you? You need papers to get in here," said a tired-looking man, walking to the barge as it pulled up to the city gate. Laelynn held her breath as the man squinted at the barge, pushing more power into the Disillusionment and Silencing charms on her and the rest of the Company. "Oh, it's you Bard," the man said, a wan smile lifting his lips.

Bard inclined his head. "Percy," he replied, his voice sounding much deeper after the wheezing voice of Percy. Bard handed him a sheaf of paper he pulled from under his heavy overcoat, that was water-stained and curled at the edges.

Laelynn thought of her own Percy, of his horn-rimmed glasses, meticulously clean robes, and disarming sense of humour that more than once had had her sitting up in bed scowling as she finally got the joke. A Percy so different to the one in front of her, with his salt-stained tunic and dull blond hair, and the air of tired resignation that surrounded him.

"Anything to declare?" he asked, bringing Laelynn back to the present.

"Only that I am cold and tired and want to go home," replied Bard in a long-suffering tone. Laelynn shifted at his words, before stilling and silently berating herself: it wasn't like Disillusionment charms made them completely invisible, and her moving around didn't help it any.

Percy grinned. "You and me both," he said, passing Bard back the papers. "Everything seems in order. You'll tell the children hello for me?"

"I always do," said Bard, and pushed off into the town proper as the gates swung silently open.

Laketown, Laelynn knew from the books in Rivendell, had been built on the water. After Erebor was destroyed by Smaug, many of the survivors in Dale migrated from the foot of the mountain to the lake. They joined the people of Esgaroth, and when the dragon last come down, they'd helped rebuild the town far enough from the shore the dragon would have some trouble getting to them.

The reading she'd done in no way prepared Laelynn for what was in front of her.

The houses pressed up against each other like books on an over-packed shelf, sprawling over each other until you couldn't tell where one ended and the next began. Some had rooms that jutted out over the water of the canals, criss-crossed with bridges that Bard expertly guided his barge past. Other still had a small dock in front of the door, with boats tied to water-worn posts that hardly rose above the sodden walkways. The boats themselves were a myriad of different shapes and sizes, but all has the same tired look to them as the rest of the city.

Laelynn frowned. Now she looked properly, she could the peeling paint and worn edges of the town and the people in it. Something at odds to what one would expect from a city Thranduil paid to take their wine barrels, presumably to be refilled. Judging from the amount of barrels, and the fact Laelynn had gotten the distinct impression Thranduil was someone who paid handsomely for his things, something was wrong.

A flurry of snow blew past the barge, obscuring her view of the dilapidated houses and distracting her. Laelynn stuck her tongue out to catch one of the falling snowflakes, and shivered as the wind blew some of the snow down the neck of her shirt. She'd have to get some more sturdy clothes soon, because it had to be at least September, if not October by now.

Bard manoeuvred his barge into a dock next to a large warehouse, then pulled a hidden lever in the side of the barge. Notified beforehand, Laelynn and the dwarves weren't startled when the side of the barge seemed to fall away, and the deck tilted allowing the empty barrels to roll off the vessel. They just readjusted their footing and kept out of the way. Bard chit-chatted with the men now pulling the barrels out of the water for a few moments, before saying his goodbyes and taking to the channels of Laketown once more.