Bard of Laketown

Part Thirty-Eight

PART THIRTY-EIGHT

AREYA'S POV

The cold, hard stone makes my back ache. I sing mindless songs in my head, songs about spring and the rebirth of life. The spring solstice in Mirkwood must not be too long away now. The time passes strangely for me, quickly at times, and then slowing down.

My hands itch to do something, to shoot arrows or climb trees or sharpen my knives.

The other prisoners have not spoken to me, and I do not want them to. They look too much like living skeletons for my liking. There is one woman, in the cell next to me, who still has a small spark in her sad brown eyes.

She watches her hands, and when she does not do that, she studies me. I pretend not to notice, but when she finally speaks, I look up at her dirt streaked face and hollow cheeks.

"What did you do to land yourself in prison?" she asks, her voice cracking from not using it. She is younger than I first thought, maybe thirty or so in human years.

"Nothing but the mere fact that I am in this town," I say, and then add, "also for forming an alliance with the Bargeman."

Her eyes light up faintly. "Bard?"

I nod. "Did- do you know him?"

She smiles slightly. "Yes. It's been an age since I last saw him, though. I've been across Middle-Earth and back, and gotten myself into this cell. How is he?"

"He's fine." I know I should tell this strange woman the truth, but I can't bring myself to do it. "Were you friends with him?" I ask.

"You could say that. I'm his sister."

I study her face. I can see a slight resemblance, in her eyes and cheekbones, but other than that they do not look alike.

"He did not mention he had a sister." I only realize she might take that as an insult until after I've said it. "I'm sorry-" but she cuts me off.

"I did not imagine he would. It's been ten years. He most likely thinks I am dead. How is his dear wife?"

Does she not know? "She is dead..." Bard's sister glances down at her hands sadly. "Ah, well. She was always so bright and full of mischief. She was good for him, you know. He tends to get into dark moods."

I nod slowly. "I know." We sit in heavy silence. "What is your name?" I ask her, and she brightens again. "I suppose I should have told you!" she says. "I'm Daneya. And you?"

"Areya."

"A beautiful name. Do you come from the Greenwood?" she asks me curiously.

"Yes, although I ran away some two months ago."

"I have been there," she muses. "At the beginning of my journey. A warm place it is. I still recall the way the sunlight dapples on the leaves, and the smell of trees and earth."

A lump forms in my throat. "It is much different now," I say. "It has been named Mirkwood. The forest has been sick for many long years, and the sun no longer shines. The trees are dark and forbearing, and twisting streams can easily lead you astray. It is beautiful still, but in a dark and frightening way."

If Daneya remembers an old Mirkwood,

how old must she be? I try to indiscreetly study her face, but she catches me.

"You must be wondering how old I am, mellon," she says, laughing softly. "I am, as you might be guessing, not even a human. I came from Rivendell, the House of Elrond, long ago, when I was half the age I am now. My parents were killed fighting Sauron's army, thousands of years ago, and I was brought here, where a man and woman took me in and raised me alongside their son."

I open my mouth to speak, but she continues. "Yes, Areya, I am as much an elf as you, but I have forgotten our customs after living away from them for all this time."

She reaches through the rusty bars and

squeezes my hand. "How do you know my brother?" she asks.

"After I escaped, I encountered a pack of orcs, who left me injured and without most of my food. I wandered around by the icy shores of the lake, and passed out by a cluster of trees. Bard found me and took me back to his house. I recovered my strength, and then he took me back to Mirkwood.

"But there were a company of dwarves travelling to Erebor, to reclaim their kingdom, and I met up with two of my friends and we came back to Lake-town, but not before I had received some medical care for my wound." And a marriage proposal from the king, I think wryly.

"Do you love him?" Daneya asks me with mischievous eyes.

I clench my shaking hands together. "Yes... maybe... I don't know anymore."

She leans back against the wall. "What did he do to you?" she asks me softly.

"Early this morning, he told me he loved me. We were so happy, for that small amount of time. Mere hours later, he left the house, and was out for quite some time. When I found him, he told me to leave with the dwarves and go to Erebor without him." I bite on the inside of my cheek, determined not to show how much I was hurting.

"And why isn't he here, then? Surely he was with you?"

"No. I left him... and...." I struggle to find another way to tell her, to avoid revealing that her brother is far away from here. "Some of the Master's spies saw me and took me here." It sounds unbelievable to my ears, and I don't expect Daneya to take that as the truth, but she only narrows her eyes at me and nods.

"Very well, Areya. If one of your friends comes to help you, will you put in a good word for me?"

"Of course I will. I wouldn't do otherwise."

"Good." she smiles at me then closes her eyes, appearing to have fallen asleep.

TRANSLATIONS

Mellon- Friend

A/N: I think this story's coming to a close! I'm not sure how many more chapters I'm going to write, but it will still be quite a few so don't freak out!! I already have plans for my next fan-fic, and I've published what it's about and stuff, so comment if you want me to write it!!! Also, what do you all think of Daneya and the plot twist?-xxx Natasha