Better or Worse

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Thranduil heard the thunderous roar of the dragon from his kingdom. It was hard to miss. Instinctively, his army prepared itself in record time and Thranduil marched them towards Erebor. They hadn't gone far when they saw Laketown aflame from end to end. The dragon was talking to someone, taunting them as he got closer. And then with a giant splash, the infamous dragon Smaug fell.

Thranduil stopped his march only for a moment to see if the beast would get up, but it didn't. The king smiled to himself and lead the march on, sending a messenger back to order supplies for the obviously displaced townsfolk. Laketown wasn't too far from Greenwood by water, but by land the trip would take some time.

By morning the Greenwood army, the largest in Arda, took over the old city of Dale. The soldiers stood in perfect form, waiting for their king's orders. Thranduil had expected to meet the old fat greedy townmaster, but was instead met by the bargeman, Alfrid on his heels.

"My Lord Thranduil, we did not look to see you here."

"I heard you needed aid." At his command, a wagon load of vegetables rolled into town.

Eagerly, the starved townspeople began taking and passing out the food.

"You have saved us. I do not know how to thank you."

Thranduil took a moment to analyze the new spokesman for Laketown. So far, he seemed genuine.

"Your gratitude is misplaced. I did not come on your behalf. I came to reclaim something of mine. There are gems in the Mountain that I, too, desire. White gems of pure starlight. The White Gems of Lasgalen." Immediately after, Thranduil began pulling his steed in the direction of the mountain, but was stopped.

"Wait! Please wait! You would go to war over a handful of gems?"

"The heirlooms of my people are not lightly forsaken."

"We are allies in this. My people also have a claim upon the riches in that Mountain. Let me speak with Thorin."

"You would try to reason with the Dwarf?" Thranduil asked with a brow raise.

"To avoid war? Yes."

Thranduil was struck by the man's hopefulness. It was naive. He would make a terrible king. But a good man.

"What is your name, townmaster?"

"This is no townmaster!" Alfrid answered.

Thranduil could stand him even less than the old master.

"Bard. Heir of Girion. King of Laketown."

"King of Dale, to be correct. I knew your grandfather. He was a valiant king." Thranduil sighed and changed his mind. "Come, then. To bargain with the dwarf king."

He ordered one of his men to give king Bard a horse, and the two leaders went over to Erebor. Thranduil chose to stay closer to Dale as Bard went ahead.

"Hail, Thorin, son of Thrain..."

Thranduil watched Bard go, and watched Bard come back.

"He will give us nothing."

"Such a pity. Still, you tried."

"I do not understand. Why? Why would he..." the kings looked back to the mountain to watch ancient runes fall and close the passage to the dwarf kingdom. "...risk war?"

"It is fruitless to reason with them. They understand..." Thranduil pulled out and examined his sword, "only one thing. We attack at dawn." He turned his ride back to Dale.

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