IMAGINE: Being Bard's Eldest Daughter

Part 2

Hi, someone recently requested that I do a part 2 for this imagine, so here it goes! And because of the suggestion, this part is dedicated to IsilwenofRivendell! Thanks so much for reading and voting and commenting! I hope it's alright for you.

Recap: And thus, Bain pulls you through the door.

"What?!" You start to say, but your words falter as you reach the living room to see a very unexpected sight.

Thirteen dwarves and one Hobbit are sat there, all staring at you.

You stop dead. Fear mounts in your stomach, crawling it's way up your body like some spider cocooning you in silk.

What has Da done now?

"Bain..? Where's Daddy?"

You start to feel increasingly uncomfortable as the eyes of the dwarves all rest their eyes on you.

"Do you think she's scared of us?" You notice one with a big hat say drunkenly.

You frown, momentary anger taking over the fear for gigantic smuggling g crime your father has so obviously committed. Helping him annoy Alfred was one thing, but taking in fourteen illegal beings? It was careless, so careless that it might mean your siblings and you lose your house, your only sanctuary from the hard world outside.

But this dwarf has crossed the line. Scared of them? Oh Mordor, that was laughable. How could anyone be scared of a ragamuffin bunch with only one tiny sword between them, and not much else, be scary?

Well, Tilda seemed scared, clinging on to Sigrid's hand over in the corner, but everything scared her, even the miniscule beetles that sometimes crawl their way into the teeny bathroom.

"Excuse me, Master Dwarf." You turn to him, startling the collection of beings as your spur yourself into life. "Scared of you? As if. You lot are about as intimidating as a butterfly."

Over in the back corner, a brooding dwarf with a masterful expression starts to stand, obvious disapproval at his lips, but a younger dark haired one speaks out quickly.

"I'm sure, Uncle, that she means no harm in what she says..." He trails off quickly under seemingly his Uncle's glare, but gasps as he adjusts his position and puts a hand to a bloody bandage on his knee.

You take all of this in, noting the other cuts and bruises passed around the little gathering. They obviously hadn't had an easy journey, but that still left one question: why are they all in your house?

You turn to your little brother, who is staring dumbstruck at the scene.

"Bain! I asked you where Da is!"

Bain turns around sheepishly.

"Sorry, sis. He's in his room, I think. Y/N?" He adds on as you rush quickly into your father's bedroom, slamming the door behind you.

Bard is sat in his bed, a hand running through his long dark hair. Although he is your father, you don't look much alike; you take after your mother, more and more as you grow up.

He looks up as you enter.

"Y/N?" He asks.

"Da." You start. "Daddy. You bought in thirteen dwarves and a halfling?! What were you thinking! This house is too small for five, let alone nineteen people! And the risk this is taking to out lives, I mean-"

You pause in your ranting as Bard holds up a single finger, then points next to him at the huge pile of gold on the bed.

"It's from them." He said sorrowfully. "Besides, I had to. One of them is badly injured, took an orc's arrow to the knee. I couldn't just leave him."

You nod slowly, remembering the young dwarf who'd stood up for you with the bandage. Remorse sets in for unreasonably yelling at your father.

"I'm sorry, Daddy." You whisper.

"Don't be, you had every right to say what you did." Bard replies, standing up and hugging you. "Besides, Sigrid told me what happened at the water's edge with Alfred today; I'm proud of you, Y/N."

You grin.

"It was rather amusing."

"Now." Your father says, looking you in the eye. "I need a word with this odd-looking company. Entertain the children for a while, would you?"

***

That night, you lay on your bed, tired out of your mind. All evening had consisted of dwarves arguing, shouting and generally not enjoying themselves, while you had to play too many games of hide and seek with Tilda.

The night is quiet and calm. The water laps in a rhythmic, relaxing way against the supports of your simple abode. All is still.

CRASH!

The sounds of a window being slammed shut suddenly jolts you to attention, and you jolt out of bed (thankfully you still have to sleep in your clothes) and rush to the living room.

The floor is coated in a layer of mess, and what should have been a dozen or so dwarves and a hobbit, but all that is left is empty wine bottles and a ripped bandage.

"Da?!" You yell, noticing Sigrid, Bain and Tilda make their way towards you.

"Da?! The dwarves have gone!"