Epic Short Stories

Market Day (LOTR Fan fiction)

It's always a struggle to keep your footing on market day.

Vender's of every sort crowd the streets, waving their wares in your face and assuring you that their price is the very best you will find in all of Dale. As if the vender's weren't enough, hordes of people cover the cobblestones, exchanging their coins for both humble necessities and lavish items that catch their roving eyes. Everyone comes out on market day, from mothers dragging children along by their soft little hands to guards in bright colors and flashing armor, marching through the streets. Clumps of laughing friends occupy every street corner. Horses, goats, poultry and other animals are led in and out of the crowds, on their way to be slaughtered, sold, or weighed down by their master's purchases. Even the dwarves come out of their mountain on market day, and you can spot them laughing outside of bars with the men of our city, bartering with the merchants or sitting with their little dwarf children atop the great wall. I even saw the Dwarf Prince, Thorin son of Thrain II, in Dale one market day. Of course, he wasn't on the streets. He was striding along the topmost level of the great wall with Lord Girion, proudly gazing down upon the city.

I suppose Dale's good fortune and prosperity is mostly thanks to the dwarves. After all, we do sit in the shadow of their mountain. Still, it's always a shock to see them, short and squat with their bristling beards and ruddy faces. The men of our city rarely wear mail coats and armor when Dale is at peace, but the same cannot be said for the dwarves. To them, armor is a sign of strength and of honor. To the men of Dale, it is a sign of bravery and of danger.

To me, it's a sign of authority and of power. I generally avoid people in armor, whether they be dwarf or man. Which is rather difficult to accomplish on market day, as everyone and their brother seems to be out on the streets. Nevertheless, I still have to eat. So here I am.

I slip into a deserted alleyway that snakes between two shops. Smoothing my ragged knee-length dress over my loose, patched trousers and pulling my tangled hair into a loose knot behind my head, I sigh. Theft is nigh impossible on market days, thanks to all the guards roaming around. Dwarves, too. Those nosy little creatures have eyes like hawks for crafty hands like mine. Yes, I'm a thief. One of the many young orphans who make their home in Dale. I'm sixteen, though with my large brown eyes and slim figure I could pass for much younger, if it weren't for my height. The people here are generous, and I'm good at what I do. I haven't been caught yet.

"Kristami!" A voice calls out behind me. I guess this alleyway isn't quite as deserted as I thought.

"Lozo," I turn and greet my friend, a small smile playing on my lips. "I've told you not to call me that."

He laughs, a joyful sound that echoes through the alley before being absorbed by the crowds behind me. Lozo, a fellow orphan, is three years younger than I am. He's the little brother that I never had. "Sorry Ami," he apologizes, though he doesn't look sorry at all. "Any success today?"

I reach over and place my hand on his shoulder, smirking. "Maybe. And I'll share if you say please."

"Nah," Lozo makes a face, scrunching up his bright blue eyes and sticking out his tongue. "How about a trade?" he asks, pulling two apples out of one of the many pockets in his vest.

"Deal." I break my loaf of bread in half, and toss part to him. He throws me an apple at the same time, catching the bread with ease.

"Let's eat."

Minutes later, we are sitting atop the higher of the two levels of the great wall, watching people scurry around beneath us like little ants. I bite into the apple and smile. The day is perfect. The bright blue sky above us dotted with fluffy white clouds. A thrush lands on the wall nearby, singing beautifully as only birds can. The rising sun is peeking out from behind the dwarves' mountain, Erebor, and shining on the Long Lake with a brilliance that simply can't be matched. I doubt even the rare Dwarf metal Mithril could shine so brightly.

"Hey you there! HEY YOU!" The guards rough voice nearly makes me drop my apple.

Okay, so maybe it's not exactly legal to sit on the highest level of the great wall. The guards tolerate us orphans. Everyone knows that we have to steal our daily bread, yet we never get in trouble unless we're caught. Climbing on the top level of the wall, however, is not tolerated.

That's what makes it fun, of course.

"Lozo?"

"Yeah Ami?"

"Run."

I shove the last of my food into my pockets and scramble to my feet, pulling Lozo up with me. We sprint along the top of the wall that encloses our city, feet pounding on the stone and wind blasting our faces. But we're not fast enough; I can almost hear the guards ragged breath behind us.

And he doesn't sound happy. "Come here, you little rascals! I'll teach you to climb on my wall!"

"Come on!" I gasp to Lozo, running close to the inner edge of the wall. "Jump, on three."

"You're crazy!" He gasps, but his eyes are shining with excitement.

"One... Two... Three!" The guard jumps for us right as we leap off the side of the wall.

There's a sickening, stomach wrenching moment of free fall before we hit the slanted side of the wall. It's like a slide, an incredibly steep, 25 foot stone slide. The feeling is exhilarating, and I can't help but laugh. For a moment I panic, wondering what on earth we are going to do to avoid hitting the rock-hard shelf that makes up the lower level. But Lozo is way ahead of me. He grabs one of the many flag poles that stick out of the wall as it flies by, and I follow his lead. The flag catches me, though it nearly pulls my arms out their sockets. We both land safely on the lower level, the one that you are actually allowed to sit on.

As soon as we touch down, I hear scattered applause from the innocent bystanders that witnessed our jump. After hastily and rather clumsily bowing to them all, we sprint towards the staircase, nearly tripping our own feet in the process. Now all we have to do is get lost in the crowd.

"HEY!" Shouts the guard from the top of the wall. "STOP THOSE CHILDREN!"

Somebody's in a foul mood this morning.

I snatch Lozo's hand and dash into the crowd as another two guard's make a grab for us. They're at a disadvantage now. Us orphans know Dale's alleyways and passages better than any guard. After a few minutes of dodging people, dwarves, animals, and carts, we've lost them.

That's one good thing about market day. It's easy to lose someone in all the crowds.

Lozo and I collapse against a wall in a quiet alley, breathing hard. After a moment, we both burst out into laughter.

"That was... way to close." I pant, pulling out the remainder of my bread and sinking my teeth into it.

"Well, it was your idea to climb up there in the first place." He replies, wiping the sweat from his forehead. I sigh.

He's right. It was.

"But it was worth it," I say wistfully, thinking of the sun coming up over the mountain and its reflection in the Long Lake. It's my favorite view in all of Dale. In all of Middle Earth, probably.

"Absolutely," He says with an excited smile. I laugh again and shake my head. He's thinking about the chase and the leap from the wall, I know. That boy loves danger far too much for his own good.

A familiar pang of guilt hits me as I look at him, tearing into what's left of his apple. Every time something like this happens, I promise myself not to put him in danger again. What if he hadn't caught the flagpole as we fell? What if the guards had caught us? What if, what if, what if?

Every time I do get us into a sticky situation like that, however, I am reminded that he's not the starving five-year-old that I found cringing under a door step years ago. He can take care of himself.

After all, there are far more dangerous things to face in Middle Earth.