Bard of Laketown

Chapter One

I sat huddled in the trees, the icy snow building up and biting into every inch of me. The wind was blowing violently, getting under my thin clothes and making my skin numb. I didn't know where I was and I didn't know why I ever bothered to leave Mirkwood. Even its cold, stately halls seemed warmer than out here.

I tried to stand, and sharp needles of pain stabbed my legs, causing me to fall back down.

I closed my eyes, my body shaking with cold, and slipped away.

I woke to a calloused, strong hand shaking my shoulder. Weakly lifting my head, I saw a pair of dark, serious eyes staring at my face. "How long have you been out here for?" he asked me sharply. I didn't have any strength to reply, and I shrugged my shoulders slightly, shaking violently.

He cursed softly, then took off his long coat, wrapping it around my shoulders.

"I'm taking you to my home," he said. "With any luck you won't die from the cold." His breath made frosty mist in the chill air.

He picked me up and carried me to the edge of the river, where a boat was bobbing amid the ice. He stepped aboard and lay me on the rough wooden floor of the small craft. Turning away, he picked up a rough wooden pole and began pushing it downwards.

The boat started to move slowly through the frigid water, ice scraping the sides. I kept my eyes open just long enough to see that without his thick coat on, the strange man had started to shiver too. I closed my eyes and passed out again.

I drifted in and out of consciousness so many times it was impossible for me to remember how long I had been in the boat. Hours, days, or weeks, I had no idea how much time had passed, when I heard rough voices shouting loudly.

"Where d'you think you're going with that, Bard?" A harsh voice broke into my mind.

"Just going home, is all." The quiet, yet stern voice of my rescuer replied.

"And what 'ave you got in there?"

I opened my eyes to see a dirty, horrifying face leering over me. The man was missing a number of teeth, and had cracked, weather-beaten skin. His breath reeked of fish. That entire place reeked of fish, I noticed, and I wrinkled my nose at the pungent smell.

"Don't you remember my sister? She had to leave home," The quiet voice said, and I felt the boat start to move through the water again.

"She's a looker, that one!" The voice yelled, cackling loudly.

After a short while, I could hear more voices, and I thought we had reached a town. My rescuer stopped the boat and picked me up again. He walked towards a small house which looked as if it had been made out of many houses, all thrown together. It was leaning precariously to one side, and I feared that it would fall in to the icy water. He carried me inside and set me on a worn chair beside a fire, before turning towards the door again. This must be Lake-Town, I realized. Mirkwood had traded goods with this town for as long as I could remember. The man must be one of the tradesmen.

Mesmerized, I stared at the fire, watching the beautiful flames rise. It made me think of the Tale of Smaug, Chiefest and Greatest of all Calamities. I never saw the dragon, but Thranduil, the Elven-king of Mirkwood, spoke of it often. "Never speak of the desolation of Smaug. Scars from dragon-fire are not so easily forgotten."

I whispered the words quietly to myself. I heard a slight noise from behind me, and I turned around quickly, only to find three children watching me, their eyes wary. Two girls, and an older boy.

I coughed slightly. "Mae govannen," I said to them, trying to stand but falling back into the chair from exhaustion. They kept watching me. They were human children, I realized. They did not speak Elvish. I coughed again, and when I brought my hand away a slight bit of red stained my fingertips.

The sight of my blood was not strange to me, but never had I bled at something so weak as a cough. The older girl's eyes widened, and she moved as if to go to me, but the boy put a hand on our shoulder.

"Stay, Sigrid!" He spoke in the same soft, lilting tone as the man who brought me. "We don't know who she is."

"Bain, Da brought her in. He must have known she won't hurt us."

She wrenched her thin arm away and walked toward me. I was coughing even harder now, blood appearing at my cracked lips.

"Bain, can't you see? She might die if we don't help her!"

She dragged a small mattress in front of the fire, and helped me lie down on it. "Your lips are blue," she said softly.

I looked at her. She was hardly more than a child, yet her eyes were sad and pained. "I-is it always so cold here?" I said to her. She nodded, then walked to a small cupboard. She took some bitter-smelling leaves out of it, then crushed them with a mortar and pestle.

She knelt down next to me, and my brown eyes watered at the smell.

"You must eat this," she said, holding out some of the green paste on her fingers.

I opened my lips ever so slightly and Sigrid put some of the leaves in my mouth.

They tasted even worse than they smelled, and I gagged and choked, fighting hard not to vomit.

"You have to swallow!" Sigrid urged.

She turned to the younger girl. "Tilda, fetch some water."

Tilda opened up another small cupboard and took out a crude clay mug. There was a wooden bucket on the table, and she dipped the mug in, then hurried back.

Sigrid lifted up my head and dripped some of the water onto my lips. I only then realized how dry my throat was, and I eagerly started gulping down the cold water, but Sigrid pulled the mug away.

"You can't have too much to drink or the medicine won't work."

The remains of the water dribbled down onto my chin, and I laid back onto the mattress and fell asleep.

I dreamt of Mirkwood, with its tall, graceful halls and beautiful people. I dreamt of the Prince, Legolas, who was in love with the Captain of the Guard, Tauriel. All of the teasing I gave him never made his feelings known to her, and she remained oblivious. I dreamt of the trees, their branches soaring high into the sky, of the rushing, crystal river that ran through the middle of the palace. My friends, who were quick to offer me love when I was upset.

I woke up with tears streaming down my cheeks. I felt even worse than I did before I fell asleep.

When I looked to the side, the man who brought me here was sitting on the armchair. His serious brown eyes were watching me.

I tried to sit up, but he knelt down beside me. "Stay there. You're very sick, and it's best if you don't try to get up."

I nodded. "Thank you for saving me." My voice sounded hoarse and weak. It scraped painfully against my throat and I winced.

"Anyone would have done the same," he said in that quiet, musical voice of his.

"Not those men who were shouting at you."

He looked down at his worn leather boots. "They just cause trouble whenever they can."

"They don't like you?"

He shook his head. "No."

I waited for him to speak again, but the silence stretched out. He stood and walked back to the chair. "You should get some sleep."

"Wait! What is your name?" For some strange reason, that information meant a lot to me.

"Bard."

I repeated the strange name and fell back asleep.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is my first fanfic, so let me know what you think!! Feedback is much appreciated!

-Natasha