Chapter 85: Heading for Erebor
-Bard's House-
"What do you mean?" asked Legolas, bewildered. "Did you have a vision?" He wasn't unfamiliar with such occurrences; over the years, his mother had predicted many future events, allowing the elves of Mirkwood to avoid danger and ambush spiders or orcs that ventured too far.
"Yes," confirmed Tauriel. "We don't have much time. We need to get the people out of this city," she said urgently. Beside her, Bard frowned deeply.
'Visions?' he wondered. His father had once mentioned that some elves were born with the gift of foreseeing future events. Now, hearing Tauriel claim she had seen a vision where the townspeople died filled him with deep fear, reflected in his interruption of their conversation.
"What did you see?"
Interruptions were something Tauriel greatly disliked. However, as an understanding elf, she did not show displeasure or anger. Instead, with her naturally stoic expression, she gazed deeply at the man who had helped the dwarves and, apparently, someone Aldril liked.
"I saw the dragon Smaug burning the city," she replied, causing Bard's face to pale. His instincts had been right; he had not been wrong in being cautious with his children. Now he was sure that those dwarves would wake the dragon, bringing massacre to the naïve people of Lake-town.
"Damn it! We have to stop those stupid dwarves!" he shouted in frustration, quickly preparing to leave his rundown home, only to be stopped by Tauriel's indifferent voice.
"They're already gone. Chasing them is useless," she said. She knew facing the dragon was madness, but she had seen it in her vision, fire, destruction, and there, standing boldly without fear, Aldril faced the dragon head-on, with no doubt or fear in his eyes, only excitement. Was it because his adrenaline fueled that emotion? She didn't know, nor did it matter.
Bard's desperation at the mention of the dwarves' departure was noticed by Legolas, who promptly exchanged a glance with Tauriel, which she immediately understood. Turning around, she noticed the desperate eyes of Sigrid, and with determination, she left Bard's house.
"Where are you going?! Legolas!" Sigrid cried out in fear.
"I must speak to the governor of this town," he said, stopping at the door. "Tauriel will take you to my father's kingdom," he continued, capturing her attention, to which she nodded.
"Yes, I will take them," she reaffirmed. "I will ask the king for help. We will need a place to keep all the people who want to come with us safe."
-----
The King beneath the Mountain,
The King of carved stone,
The lord of silver fountains,
Shall return to his land!
They sang, accompanied by shouts, dancing, harp music, and violins. It was truly a farewell worthy of a king. That song, although incomplete, was sung with joy, and it was so ancient that not even the elders remembered it fully.
"What a grand farewell," Fili and Kili said, and it was true. It had been a long time since these people had shown such happiness. Not even the elders could recall when there had been such an unparalleled celebration. Food, petals, roses, and flowers were distributed by the governor's men, who, quite cunningly, took advantage of the situation to improve the man's image.
With Thorin Oakenshield's promise, the gold distributed for their cooperation would be divided equally. Every person would receive two pieces of gold, and all the rest would go to him, the governor of this city! Such a despicable thought, those who knew him would say. But what could the others do if he kept the gold?
It was a morning like no other. They had been given a boat for their departure. The crowd seemed to have not slept; early in the morning, they came to bid them farewell. These dwarves were not used to such favor. Their past experiences with humans were limited, perhaps one or two blacksmithing jobs, but nothing more.
Now, being sent off as heroes brought them a very different feeling. Their usual experience of disdain from other races seemed to have vanished this morning. As they passed each house, the families were there, celebrating and bidding them farewell with grace.
Oh, brave heroes, raise your voices!
The burning flame shall fall today,
With cunning and valor, hope arose,
In the dragon's shadow, freedom will come.
New songs resonated with every stroke of the oars, songs about the fall of that infamous dragon, inspired by those so old they remembered the time of the dragon. And they were so ancient they could barely stand, hopeful that the "dwarven heroes," as the younger ones called them, would defeat the dragon. These new songs were passed down to their grandchildren, spreading from mouth to mouth throughout Lake-town.
"Those songs... could they be for Aldril?" the dwarves murmured, especially Kili, Fili, and Nori, who, being the youngest, were the most spirited of the group. "Of course, they're for Aldril!" Gloín jovially affirmed. To outsiders, the dwarves' cheerful demeanor might have made them forget the loss of Bombur. But how naïve! These dwarves were grieving, though the promise made to the deceased made them act cheerfully, trying to suppress the sadness that would be inappropriate for the moment.
The one mentioned, Aldril, remained stoic. He had heard the songs and seen the radiant joy of the townspeople. He was neither happy nor cheerful; he stayed focused, determined. With every stroke of the oar, his heart raced. Tauriel's vision had shown that Smaug would somehow end up destroying Lake-town. In that vision, he hadn't been able to stop it at Erebor.
It wasn't his fault for staying focused, even if it made him seem odd to the more boisterous dwarves. Only the most experienced understood what was on his mind. Thorin and Balin made no comment; instead, they looked at Aldril with admiration. His presence evoked strength and danger. Only the most seasoned could sense it, and luckily, it was only them; otherwise, the younger and less experienced ones would be crying in fear at Aldril's powerful aura, one that had grown like a raging sea after his lesson with Malenia.
Every row brought anticipation for the dwarves, each stroke bringing them closer to home. After more than four hours of rowing and enduring the muscle pain, their reward came when the fog finally lifted.
There, grand, imposing, and glorious as the older ones remembered, stood their home. There lay the Lonely Mountain.
"How spectacular!" Nori exclaimed in awe.
"By the great Aulë! It's too beautiful!" Kili muttered, stunned.
"Is this the Lonely Mountain, uncle?" Fili asked with a radiant smile.
"Yes," Thorin confirmed, admiring the Lonely Mountain, lost for a few seconds in his memories. They were close. Their journey would soon come to an end. With renewed expression, he allowed himself a slight smile.
"We will dock soon," he said. "Prepare to disembark."
------
-Mirkwood-
"Dear? What happened? Where is Aldril?" asked a confused Thalwen, and she truly was. Her dear daughter stood beside the young human girl who had stolen her son's heart, accompanied by two other humans she assumed were her brothers.
"Mother, I've come seeking help," Tauriel said directly, her face showing concern. "I've had a vision, and in it, all the people in that city die under the dragon's fire," she explained without giving Thalwen time to respond. "That place will be the battlefield for Aldril, and we need to save these people," she continued, urgency in her voice.
"Very well," Thalwen didn't refuse to help. Though her relationship with humans was mostly commercial, they too were the creation of the great Eru, and her morals would not allow her to leave the people of that lake city to face such danger alone. Moreover, she took visions very seriously, a trait Tauriel also had, perhaps due to her true mother. She didn't know, nor did it matter. "Go, inform my husband," she ordered the elven escort who had told her about her daughter's return.
"Where is your brother, dear?" Looking around, Thalwen couldn't find her son, who she assumed would be with the young human girl if her presence didn't indicate otherwise.
"He went to speak with the governor of that city," Tauriel explained. "He went to warn him about the dragon's imminent attack."
-12 hours later-
"Is this everyone?" an incredulous Tauriel asked. There were so few people who had heeded the warning, mostly families filled with children and the elderly, with a few young adults who reluctantly accompanied their relatives.
"Yes, the rest dismissed my warning," Legolas commented with equal frustration. The small group barely numbered two hundred, but it was no longer their concern. Those ignorant people would suffer the consequences of having taken the warning so lightly.
They had been so skeptical that they dared not believe an elf—one who was said to only speak the truth. "It's just a legend. Our dwarven heroes will kill it if there's really a dragon," they said in their naïveté. They had no concept of the fear a dragon could invoke, let alone the largest dragon in Middle-earth.
"Let us pray to the Valar that not all will perish," Thalwen said from beside them. They had settled those who believed them close to the elven kingdom, in a place far from the city, protected by the vines imbued with the blessing of the Vala Yavanna, courtesy of Thalwen.
"What is that?" In the dark of night, from which the singing and music of Lake-town could still be heard, a barely visible figure was spotted in the sky. They had taken their time moving the people, and now darkness had completely claimed the daylight.
"It looks like a little bird," a child commented, heard by her family members, who raised their eyes only to panic at the immense figure. Even from this distance, its magnificence was undeniable.
"It has begun." At some point, Finduilas had appeared beside Thalwen, startling both Legolas and Tauriel, who hadn't sensed her approach.
"Begun what?" asked a confused Legolas, only for his question to be answered by the scream of one of the refugees.
"A DRAGON!"
The scream immediately silenced the rest of the refugees, who looked up and saw the fearsome dragon approaching their beloved city. Panic overtook them, but in that moment, a majestic and soothing voice was heard.
"Silence! You are safe here!" Thalwen's magnetic, magnificent voice quieted the upheaval of the refugees. Calmed by such a beautiful voice, they stopped screaming. They did not see the figure of the elven woman, but by her voice alone, they could tell she was a beauty beyond compare, a true work of art.
But poor them, for they could not admire the grace of Thalwen, a Vanya elf, known among the eldar as the fairest of all Eru's creations.
Now that the crowd was calm, Thalwen and the others watched with a mixture of fear and nervousness as the dragon savagely shook itself in the air. A vague figure of a man could be seen on its back.
Finduilas, at Thalwen's side, observed the figures with fear and hope. Her hands clasped in prayer, she murmured words that made Tauriel and Legolas widen their eyes and pay closer attention.
"The contender for the strongest existence in Middle-earth VS the greatest dragon of Middle-earth,"
she whispered. One of the greatest battles of this age had begun.
***
Filthy orcs!
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Question of the day Do you already have your tickets for the Rohirrim war movie?
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