Then the barge finally reached Lake-town and stopped at the market planks along the water.
Bard tied the rope to a post and began rolling the barrels off the barge one by one. As soon as they hit the dock, the dwarves climbed out.
Dwalin came out last, soaked and smelling strongly of fish, his expression clearly irritated.
Bard tossed a coin to the man watching over the dock.
"You didn't see them," Bard said simply. "And the fish are yours."
The man caught the coin, glanced at the pile of fish-filled barrels, and nodded without asking questions.
One by one the dwarves stepped onto the wooden planks of the town. Bilbo climbed out of his barrel as well, looking around with wide eyes.
The place was unlike anything he had seen before—wooden walkways built over water, houses rising on tall stilts, boats drifting between narrow channels.
"What is this place?" Bilbo asked quietly.
"The world of Men," Thorin replied.
"Hm," Luke murmured, looking around the town.
"What is it?" Wanda asked.
"Nothing," Luke said slowly. "Just feels like someone is watching."
His gaze lifted toward the sky above Lake-town.
For a brief moment he felt it clearly—something distant and ancient. Not hostile. Not interfering. Simply aware.
Like a presence that observed everything but rarely touched the world directly.
Luke narrowed his eyes slightly.
If his guess was right, it wasn't anyone in Lake-town… not the Elves, not the Wizards, not even the Valar.
It felt far beyond them.
Like the quiet awareness of Eru Ilúvatar, the One who had first shaped Arda through the Music of the Ainur, watching his creation unfold as it always had—without stepping in to change its course.
The feeling faded as quickly as it came.
Luke lowered his gaze and shrugged slightly, as if it didn't matter much.
Whoever was watching wasn't likely to interfere.
That was how this world worked.
Even the Valar under Eru Ilúvatar rarely involved themselves in the affairs of mortals anymore. Their direct actions in the First Age had shaken the world itself, causing destruction far greater than the evil they fought.
Since then, they had chosen a different path.
Instead of coming themselves, they had sent the Istari—the Wizards—into Middle-earth. But even they were placed into mortal bodies, their true power restrained. They weren't meant to rule, conquer, or solve every problem.
They were meant to guide.
To advise.
To nudge events in the right direction and let the people of Middle-earth shape their own fate.
So as long as Luke didn't push things too far, those above would simply watch.
Because if they truly tried to step in to contain someone like him, the conflict alone could tear across Middle-earth—and that was something they clearly wanted to avoid.
Then Luke noticed Bard standing in front of him with his hand extended, clearly waiting.
"The rest," Bard said.
"Right," Luke replied casually, handing him the remaining coins.
Bard checked the gold quickly, then nodded once. "Follow me."
They moved through the narrow streets of Lake-town. Wooden walkways creaked under their steps as they passed between houses built over the water. Bard led the way, the Dwarves following close behind, trying not to draw attention.
Luke walked at the back with Natasha and Wanda.
"It's like watching a mother hen with her chicks," Luke muttered, amused.
Several Dwarves turned and glared at him.
Before anyone could respond, Bard glanced back sharply. "Quiet. Move."
They picked up their pace, weaving through darker alleys and quieter docks to avoid the guards.
Just then, a boy rushed toward them.
"Da!" he whispered urgently.
It was Bard's son Bain.
"Our house is being watched."
Bard stopped for a moment, thinking. His eyes moved to the Dwarves. The normal route to his home was no longer safe.
"That leaves only one way," he muttered.
Without explaining further, Bard changed direction and led them through a quieter set of walkways.
Soon they reached a modest wooden house standing on stilts above the water. Bard pushed the door open and stepped inside, motioning for everyone to follow.
The room was simple but warm—nets hanging to dry, a small table in the middle, and a cooking pot still steaming over the fire.
Two girls looked up immediately.
"Da! Where have you been?" Sigrid asked, standing up quickly. "We were worried."
Her younger sister stepped closer, eyes moving curiously toward the strangers behind him.
"And… are they guests?" Tilda asked, looking at Luke, Wanda, and Natasha with open curiosity.
Bard closed the door behind them and lowered his voice.
"They'll only stay for a short while," he said calmly. "So be polite."
Sigrid nodded, though her eyes still moved between the newcomers.
Tilda, however, was openly staring now, especially at Natasha and Wanda, clearly fascinated by people who looked so different from anyone usually seen in Lake-town.
"Bain, go and get them," Bard said quietly, looking at his son.
Bain nodded and hurried off.
A moment later he returned and opened the bathroom door. One by one the Dwarves stepped out, dripping water onto the wooden floor as they came from the bathing room at the back of the house.
Sigrid blinked, completely confused.
"Dad… why are there Dwarves coming out of our bathroom?" she asked.
Tilda leaned forward with curiosity. "Do they bring luck?"
"No," Luke said dryly, glancing at her. "But they definitely bring high blood pressure."
More Dwarves shuffled out of the room, arms wrapped around themselves as they shivered from the cold river.
"Well," Luke said, looking them over, "I can help with that."
He snapped his fingers.
The water clinging to their clothes and beards evaporated instantly, turning into faint steam that disappeared into the air.
Several Dwarves froze.
Balin stepped forward slightly, studying Luke more carefully.
"You are a wizard?" Balin asked.
"Something like that," Luke replied casually.
Tilda's eyes lit up. She tugged on Bard's sleeve.
"Can you do a magic trick?" she asked eagerly. "I've never seen a wizard before."
"Of course," Luke said.
He lifted his hand.
A small spark appeared above his palm and shot toward the ceiling. It burst softly into tiny fireworks that spread across the wooden beams, scattering bright colors around the room. The lights slid along the ceiling like glowing snakes, popping gently as they faded.
The room fell quiet as everyone watched.
Magic was not something people saw every day.
*****
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