Bard of Laketown

Part Twelve

PART TWELVE

I pull out my long hunting knives, and grasp them tightly, my knuckles white. I don't want to admit it to myself, but I'm afraid. Bard reaches behind his shoulder and takes out a crude wooden bow. I quickly hand him my quiver. If his arrows are anything like his bow, it's not going to do much damage.

He nods quickly in thanks, and pulls the bowstring taut.

The orcs are upon us now. Bard lets arrow after arrow fly into our enemy. My knives are a blur, whirling around and killing numerous orcs.

We fight hard and well, but there are too many of them, and soon we begin to fall back.

I hear a shout from the river, and look over to see thirteen dwarves in barrels, floating down the river. The orcs look over, and grunt, but they keep attacking us. One slices my arm open, and I cry out.

Bard isn't doing much better than me. His nose is dripping with blood, and there's a red stain spreading across his thigh. He tries to continue fighting, but he keeps stumbling.

Suddenly an arrow flies past my shoulder, so close I can feel the wind whistle past my ear.

I turn around and find Legolas and Tauriel, shooting arrows at the orcs with the speed and accuracy that they're known for.

"Areya?" Legolas says, after the orcs are lying in a pile around us. "What are you doing here? Why did you come back?"

"I- I had to, Legolas."

"But you hated Mirkwood. What gave you reason to return?"

"I realized how bad it would be if anyone found where I'd run to."

"Where was that?" Tauriel asks. Her brow is creased, but only slightly. I only hope I'm making the right choice by trusting them.

"Lake-town." I'm putting everyone in that town in danger by saying this.

Tauriel and Legolas look at each other. "On any other day, I'd do the right thing and listen to my father," Legolas says, "but seeing as how we just escaped to help thirteen dwarves and one halfling, I am in no position to turn you in."

"Thank you." My arm stings horrifically from my gash. I rip off a strip of fabric from the bottom of my dress and bind up my shoulder, then do the same to Bard's leg. He winces slightly, but seems to be fine. His nose has stopped bleeding, but there's still dried blood smeared on his face. We walk to the river and splash the icy cold water on our faces, washing away the remains of the blood.

Bard is watching me with a strange expression. I smile, a little self-conscious.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I say.

"When you fight, it's beautiful."

I smile again, a bit wryly this time. "I have never heard it described that way," I say. "Legolas and Tauriel, their fighting is beautiful."

I look over at them. They are deep in conversation, glancing down the river.

"This Legolas, he is the Elven-prince?" Bard says quietly.

"Yes."

"And you love him?"

"What? Of course not!" I lower my voice. "Besides, he loves Tauriel. He's like a brother to me."

Bard stands. "Oh."

I'm confused at this question, but I shake off the feeling and stand too.

We walk back to Legolas and Tauriel, who are becoming impatient to leave.

"Are you ready yet?" Tauriel asks. She deserves the coveted position of Captain of the Guard. She is always ready for a fight, and is one of the best fighters we have.

I whisper in Legolas' ear. "When are you going to tell her?"

He looks at me warily. "Tell her what?"

"You know what I'm talking about," I say quietly.

He frowns. "Oh. I've not had enough time to since you went missing."

"A month isn't enough time?"

"You were gone for a month?"

"Yes, but I'm sure it felt like much longer to you." I laugh softly and nudge him.

He grins, and I feel Bard's eyes on us. When I look over, his gaze is on the river.

"What did those dwarves went in Mirkwood?" I ask.

"Maybe you should ask Tauriel." Legolas' voice is suddenly heavy. "She is well acquainted with them."

There is a light blush on Tauriel's cheeks. Legolas notices it too; he looks away.

"They are travelling to Erebor," Tauriel says.

"The Erebor where Smaug..." I trail off.

"The same one. One is a young prince, looking to reclaim his kingdom."

I think back to my dream. "This prince- what was his name?"

"Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror."

The name hits me hard. It is the same dwarf from my dream. The same dwarf I have to help.

"They will need to travel right through Lake-town." Bard's quiet voice speaks.

I look at him. "Help them, Bard. Let them use your boat."

He shakes his head. "That mountain does not belong to them," he says softly.

"Who does it belong to, then?" I say. "Smaug? Us elves? Certainly not you?" I can't stop the hard edge from creeping into my voice. "If you will not help them, Bard, I will."

A/N: I KNOW I'M CHANGING A LITTLE BIT OF THIS BUT OTHERWISE IT WON'T REALLY FIT WITH THE REST OF THE STORY. HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS CHAPTER!! THE NEXT ONE MIGHT HAVE SOME DWARVES IN IT....