Springtime at the Lonely Mountain

Cloudy Skies

A short glimpse at the aftermath of the mysterious dragon's short but memorable "visit". What will it mean for everyone in Erebor and beyond?

It's been quite a busy week for me, but I finally managed to finish this chapter. I'm sorry for any errors in advance!

In case you're wondering, there will be more of Thorin in the next one :)

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The bright interiors of the infirmary smelled of herbs, healing poultices and fresh linen. Healers and nurses bustled between beds in an effort to care for all the dwarves injured in Dale. Among the wounded were both merchants and traders, as well as regular visitors to the famous Dale Market, dwarves of all ages. Ása hadn't seen so many wounded gathered in one place before. She closed her eyes, still feeling slightly dizzy after what happened to her, and took another sip of a medicinal brew that Master Óin administered after examining her scrupulously. The dragon's piercing roar seemed to still resonate in her head, along with the terrified shouts and cries for help of both Men and dwarves who had the misfortune of being present in the Market Square of Dale. The strong, acrid taste of the medicine on her tongue didn't seem to bother her at all. There were more urgent things on Ása's mind right now. A dragon? Here? So far to the south from the Northern Waste they were rumored to live? And why would such a creature leave its lair now, so early in the year? As far as she could remember from her studies with Master Halfgrim, the dragons were especially partial to sunshine and warmth. These factors, as the ancient dwarven scrolls claimed, made them much faster and even more dangerous than usual. One of the theories claimed that it had something to do with their circulatory system, quite different from the dwarven one. Ása wished she could recall more than a handful of random facts. She hadn't paid much attention to those writings before. Dragons were considered to be very rare and some scholars suggested that they were on the brink of extinction. The dwarf maiden preferred gaining knowledge about the species, animals and plants she had a chance to see and observe in nature. She shook her head, not wanting to think about her encounter with the dragon. She hadn't seen it, but she certainly felt it. Or rather, the creature made her feel its presence. A cold shiver ran down her spine. Later, she promised herself. She would try to make sense of it later.

Ása emptied the contents of her mug in one gulp. Lady Barba wouldn't be happy if she saw such behavior. A proper dwarven lady should take elegant, miniscule sips and not drink like a parched miner after a long shift. Ása wished she could hear her guardian's sharp, scolding voice - now or at any time in future. She'd never thought she would miss the dwarven matron's intense personality so much. Putting the mug away, she took Lady Barba's frail, parchment-like hand into hers. It felt cool under her touch, dry and almost lifeless. The dwarf maiden moved her chair closer to Lady Barba's bed and cast a worried glance at her guardian's pale face covered with cuts and scrapes. Only the slow, shallow movements of her heavily bandaged chest were a sign that she was still with them.

"You need to show everyone how strong you are, my dove," Lord Beldrum murmured to his wife, sitting on the other side of the bed. Ása thought that he looked visibly more tired and older than when they parted in the morning, before their visit to Dale. Could a dwarf age so much in one day? He was a rather quiet and stoic dwarf, usually not prone to showing much emotion in public. Now, she could see the tenderness in his tired eyes and movements; the way he touched his wife's hollow cheek spoke more than any words could.

"The healers say that you need a lot of rest," he continued, his voice crackling, "but I am sure that with Mahal's help all will be well. It has to," his voice died away, like a last breath of evening wind.