Bard of Laketown

Part Sixteen

We are almost at Lake-town when I hear a scream from in the boat. It chills my spine. I turn around quickly. "Who was that?"

One of the younger dwarves, Fili, looks up at me. All the blood has drained from his face, leaving his skin white. "It's Kili," he says, his voice breaking. "One of those bloody orcs shot him with a morgul arrow, on the bank of the river."

I curse for not noticing his state earlier.

"Where did the arrow hit?"

"His leg." Fili gestures to his thigh, on the same spot where I was stabbed.

"One of you, row the boat," I say, stepping over to Kili.

Thorin puts his hand on my shoulder and pushes me back. "We don't need your help, mortal," he says. "If he's made it this far wounded already, he can make it the rest of the way."

Fili stares at him, eyes filled with shock. "Uncle, he's dying! You can't mean-"

"Enough, Fili. We aren't too far away now. He will be fine." His words sound kind, but his voice is angry.

I turn back to the bow and continue rowing, trying to block out the sounds of Kili's agonized screams.

AREYA'S POV

When we make it back to the halls of Mirkwood, my feet are dragging and it hurts to even walk. The guards at the gate stop us. "What is your business with the king?"

Legolas steps forward and throws back his hood. "Tell my father that we've found the runaway. Tell him- that she is gravely ill."

I would have protested this earlier, but my breathing has become shallow, and sweat pools on my forehead.

One of the guards walks stately to the throne room, and I grit my teeth. Is it not possible for him to go any faster?

Ten minutes later, he returns. "The king will see you now," he says.

We nod our thanks and pass through the gate. Legolas and Tauriel are practically holding me up now, as my strength is almost gone.

We finally reach the throne room. The king is on his throne, his head bowed. He does not look up for a long while, until Legolas coughs quietly. "Ada?"

The king's piercing eyes look upwards and meet mine, freezing me where I stand. He smirks, then stands and walks to us. I swallow. His slender fingers brush along my cheekbone, and I shiver. "My runaway," he says in his low voice. "You have seen better days. What a state you are in."

He waves his hand at my companions, and they touch me on the shoulder, then leave. The silence yawns out, like a deep, dark cavern.

"Tell me, Areya, why did you leave?" he asks me, walking behind me. His breath tickles my neck, making me flinch.

"I am very sorry, my King," I say. My legs are shaking, and I feel as if I will vomit.

"You did not answer me."

I cannot tell him why I left, or surely he will never trust me to go outside the gates again.

"Answer me!" he yells. He is standing in front of me again, his blue eyes blazing.

"I just needed to be away for a time", I say, hoping he doesn't press me further.

"Away?" His voice is silky smooth again. "Surely you did not wish to leave because of me?"

I look away from his face. "Of course not, my king."

His fingers move to my chin, forcing me to look up at him. His face is moving closer to mine. "I know that you are lying," he says. "No matter. I will ask you again later."

His face is now mere inches away. "What are you doing?" I say, feeling a little uncomfortable at his closeness.

"What, indeed. Are you truly so pure, so innocent, that you cannot guess my thoughts?"

His voice is scarcely a whisper now. He closes the gap and kisses me hard on the lips.

His lips are soft, and he smells of the forest. I close my eyes, and kiss him back. But then- I remember Bard. I barely know him, but I feel as if I am betraying him. I put my hands on the king's chest, and push him away from me.

His eyes fly open, and he looks hurt. "Do you really hate me so much, Areya?" he asks in a soft tone. "After everything I've done for you..." His voice trails off, and he reaches out to touch my cheek. I turn away. "Please," I say. "I do not hate you, I just- do not have the same feelings that you have for me."

My breath is coming in short gasps now, but there isn't enough air entering my lungs. I put a hand on my forehead, and it comes away, slick with sweat.

The king is watching me, with a worried expression. "You need medicine," he says, and then I fall, my head smacking against the hard ground.