Bard of Laketown

Part Twenty-One

PART TWENTY-ONE

AREYA'S POV
By the time night falls, we are at the spot where Bard and I left his boat. It is gone, just as I had expected. I stop at the shores of the icy lake, feeling more foolish than ever. "What are we going to do about crossing the lake?" I call over, but Legolas is already dragging a small Elvish boat from inside the dense undergrowth. "Would this help?" he replies.
"A little."
Tauriel appears behind him dragging another.
They drop the boats at the water's edge. "You might do something else besides watch us do all the work," Tauriel complains.
"Sorry, but I am recovering from an injury," I tease, laughing.
Legolas gets in one boat, and Tauriel and I take the other. We paddle for the first few minutes in silence, the only sounds being the oars cutting through the chilly water and the wind whistling through our hair. It is warmer than I remember it, but I am wearing a cloak now, and a far warmer dress.
Legolas finally speaks. "Why do you need to help Thorin Oakenshield?"
I think for a moment before answering him. "I had a dream," I say, "when I was at Bard's house."
Tauriel pokes my shoulder. "What were you doing in Bard's house?" she asks in a teasing tone. I roll my eyes, then realize I haven't told either of them how I met the mysterious bowman.
"I was freezing," I say, "huddled under a tree. I was unconscious, I don't know for how long, before I woke to a stranger shaking me awake. He brought me to his home, risked his life to save me, and then brought me back to Mirkwood."
They are silent.
"How did you know you could trust him?" Tauriel asks me.
"I guess... I didn't," I reply truthfully. "But he did save my life, and I suppose that fact was enough."
"But back to the dwarf." Legolas speaks a few feet ahead. His outline is still visible in the starlight, but it is hazy.
I sigh. "Must I tell you my entire life story now?" I say lightly.
Tauriel chuckles. "Maybe so," she says, "for you've never told us that either."
I curse myself quietly for bringing up such an uncomfortable subject. "I shall have to save that story for another time," I say, swallowing against the lump rising in my throat. "But about the dwarf. I had a dream, as I said." My voice grows more dramatic, one of the reasons I am renowned for my story-telling skills.

"I saw a bloody battle, taking place between two great armies, the dwarves, formerly of Erebor, and a large number of hideous orcs, their leader a massive brute, a pale Orc with scars slashed across his face, back and chest, riding on a pale Warg.
Overlooking the battle, at the top of a great hill, hundreds of elves stood, watching, waiting for their king to give the command."

"My father," Legolas whispers.
I continue the story.

"The Elven-king, Thranduil, sat astride his great elk, looking upon the battle that raged on below him. Many of the dwarves saw him, and called to him to help, but he put up a hand and turned aside, away from the dwarves when they needed him most. He would not risk the lives of his people, for a race which he found so insignificant to Middle-Earth. The elves followed him, pouring in a thick stream down the opposite side of the hill, till they were all gone, with no trace of them left behind."

A/N: THE REST OF THE STORY IS IN THE NEXT CHAPTER. I HAD A LOT OF FUN WRITING IT IN A DRAMATIC, INTERESTING WAY. I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!! -Natasha