Chapter Ten: The Adventures of Eustace

"Smaug owes alliance to no one, but if he should side with the enemy…a dragon could be used to terrible effect."

{Cambridge, England}

"It's hideou-ow!"

"It's very old," the woman at the front door went on, having not noticed Alberta's heel driving into her son's ankle. "I immediately thought of Harold when I saw it, knowing he likes the old things, and it seemed a shame for this painting to be carted off, who knows where, where it would never be appreciated. That's the dreadful shame of this war: the loss of so many artifacts. Though, I assure you, I care greatly for the more human aspects and consider those a much more terrible loss. But I do feel I've done right when I am able to save a bit of history; history lasts longer than humans do."

"Yes…well, thank you, Mrs. Warner, my husband will be…" (Alberta swallowed visibly) "…ecstatic."

"Oh, I just knew he would." Mrs. Warner beamed with pride as she handed over the gilded frame that constrained a red dragon. "I wish I could stay to tea and have a proper visit, but I've some important matters with the museum, terribly important. Maybe some other time."

"Yes, that would be lovely." Alberta could not wait for Mrs. Warner to get off the front steps; in fact, she shut the door before the woman was halfway down the walk.

"Well, what are we going to do with that dreadful thing?" demanded her son, wrinkling his nose.

"Put it in the spare room; at least, it'll be behind a door. We can't very well hide it, what with Mrs. Warner coming again." Alberta placed the picture into her son's hands and gave a shudder. "It's horrid. I don't care how old it is."

The boy gave a nod, repulsed by the scene on the canvas: a dragon splaying fire across a town, terrorizing the fleeing people. He hurriedly carried it to the small back bedroom upstairs and hung it from an old nail on which another painting had once resided until his father had to sell it for a bit more cash. (It had been another picture his family had not been proud of and could not get rid of because it had been a wedding present. But with times being hard, Alberta had decided the relative who had given the picture would understand that it had to be sold.)

The puny, blonde boy gave it one last disgusted look before he turned away.

"I should just smash the rotten thing," he thought aloud. "I'll say I tripped coming upstairs."

Suddenly, he felt strangely hot, and beads of perspiration were on his forehead before he had made it halfway across the room. He slowly wheeled back around, his jaw dropping. The dragon was flying within the confines of the frame, but the fire he threw from his mouth was spilling over the edges of the canvas and up the walls of the bedroom.

"Alberta! Alberta!" he screamed. (He was an odd fellow, always addressing his parents by their names.) He raced toward the door, only to find the way blocked by rapidly spreading flames. Then he noticed the dragon's legs, one on either side of him. Somehow the creature had broken free of the picture and was standing over him. Terrified, the boy screamed out his mother's name once again, but this time no words came out. Instead, even more fire shot forth.

The unbelievable truth struck him. These were not the legs of the Dragon, rather his own. A new force coursed through his veins; he barely knew what he was doing. He flapped into the sky as there was no longer a ceiling over the bedroom. When he glanced down, his house – and all of Cambridge, for that matter – were gone, replaced with the village from the painting.

He was responsible for destroying the many homes; however, he was unable to cease. He swooped again and again, spitting out orange flames. People screamed and ran, trying to escape the blaze. One man was shooting black iron arrows at the Worm; one knocked loose a scale.

As time wore on, the boy lost control of body and mind. The last thing he saw in his mind's eye was a large, glowing orb that resembled an orange eye.

{Laketown}

Bard opened his eyes, then closed them again as he became aware of a raging headache. Then he remembered: the Master of the Lake had struck him with a broken board. Bard sat up quickly, realizing he was in the blockhouse, imprisoned in one of the cells. Getting to his feet, he gripped the bars of the door.

"Let me out! Is anyone there? Let me out!"

Shouts from beyond the barred window on the other side of the cell and running feet throughout the guardhouse announced danger. Knowing no one would come, Bard turned his attention to the outside world through the window. His blood ran cold, then boiled with the heat of the enflamed town. Smaug flew over the town, making another blazing swipe over the houses. Bard had to get out, get to the bow that could withstand the Black Arrow.

The Black Arrow – where had Bain hidden it? Would he be able to find Bain, or had his son already left for safety with his sisters? Or had Bain been captured by the guards as well?

"Bain! Bain!" he hollered through the bars.

There was no reply; however, it brought no relief. How would he be able to find Bain? He knew he would never find the arrow on his own. What was he to do?

He shook the bars on the door, but they would not budge. He moved back to the window and gently rubbed his fingers over the still cool metal while the air grew hot around him. Maybe he was never meant to be a hero. His wife and youngest son were dead because he had tried to be the savior of Narnia. The fate of his remaining three children and the people of Laketown was death because he had taken upon himself to save them, using the Black Arrow.

He gazed through the smoke to a piece of star-studded night sky. "Aslan…if you can hear me, please…try to find it in your heart to spare my children. They deserved better than I gave."

There was a creak behind him. Bard spun around to find the cell door slowly swinging on its hinges. A mislaid soldier's bow and full quiver were propped against the wall in the hall. Bard grabbed them up and ran, his mind returning to Narnia.

"Da, where's Ma? Why are we leaving?"

"Be quiet, Tilda. There are Wargs on their way."

"Da, why didn't it work?" inquired Sigrid, helping the half frozen Bain over a snowdrift. "The Wizard said the four of us were the ones from the Prophecy."

"Curse the Wizard!" Bard yelled, his frustration unleashed. "He was wrong. The old fool did not know what he was talking about!"

"What about Aslan? Is that why he never came to help us?"

Bard halted in the snow and looked back through the black forest, listening to distant wolf cries. "Eru and his son have forsaken us."

Bard ran out of the guardhouse and onto the docks. He gazed around for someplace high enough from where he could shoot at the beast. His eyes fell on the bell-tower which had not yet ignited.

As he ran, he heard voices in his head:

"…she could have wiped out this whole town had it not been for the Master's men riding out to stop her."

"You know it was by the grace of Aslan that Jadis made it no farther than the borders of Narnia!"

Why had he said that after so long of blaming Aslan for what had occurred in that frozen country? Had there been something inside of him that had unconsciously still believed in the Lion?

Bard stood under the ringing bell, arrow on taut string, aimed at the high flying monster. He released and it hit the Dragon on the scaly hide. He could strike the winged terror, but regular arrows were no good. Maybe he could distract Smaug long enough for the residents of Laketown to escape; for his children to get away.

"…spare my children."

{Section Break}

"Quickly now. Hurry," Tauriel urged, assisting Tilda into the boat as the rest of the children and the Dwarves piled in. The Dwarves picked up the oars and took positions on the sides of the craft, while Tauriel stood in the front, directing the way through the canals. Her eyes kept returning to the Dragon, taking note of its location, trying to avoid its burning breath. The girls clutched each other and huddled in the middle of the boat with Bain and the still weak Kili, staying out of the way of the oarsmen.

They had only been traveling a short distance when Bain heard the bell suddenly cease its repeating peal. He looked up at the tower and let forth a yell. "Da!" Sure enough, there stood his father, bow in one hand, knife in the other, having just cut loose the bell to end its infernal noise.

"Da!" the sisters cried in horror as Smaug flapped toward the tower. Bard strung another arrow and let it fly.

"He hit the Dragon! He hit it!" Kili exclaimed.

Tauriel stared upward, wide-eyed. "No," she gasped.

"He hit it! I saw!" the Dwarf went on, amazed.

"His arrows cannot pierce its hide." The She-Elf frowned. "I fear nothing will."

Bain gazed around. How close were they to where he had left the Black Arrow? Everything appeared different, decaying under flames. Then he spotted it: the statue of the Master, posed like a dark beacon against the fire. The boat was coasting alongside a delivery dock where crates were usually unloaded from large barges, like the one Bard drove. The hook and chain used to lift the crates was dangling over the water. Bain grabbed hold of it and swung to the dock.

"What do you think you're doing?" roared Bofur. "Come back!" But Bain ran.

"Let him go. We cannot go back," sighed Tauriel with a shake of her head. She looked to the front and felt the boat glide along once more as the Dwarves pulled on the oars. She heard Tilda give one last feeble cry to her brother, then broke down into tears. Tauriel shot another glance at the Dragon. What would become of these two young girls if their father and brother died?

{Section Break}

Bard released his final arrow. It was over. The Dragon was still soaring strong and unhindered. Screams sounded from all over the doomed town. Bard had played the hero and lost everything once again.

"Da!"

Bard turned to the stairwell coming up into the bell-tower. A smoke-covered face emerged.

"Bain, what are you doing? Why didn't you leave? You were supposed to leave!"

"I came to help you."

"No. Nothing can stop it now."

"This might." There was the briefest glint of triumph in the boy's eyes as he held up the Black Arrow.

Bard smiled as he took it.

"You must be brave, Bain. Promise you will always be brave."

"Yes, Da," assured the youngster on his father's knee.

"Good lad. Someday, you'll make a fine King of Narnia."

"Bain, you go back. You get out of here now."

The boy gave a slight nod before his attention was stolen away by an oncoming shape. "Da, look out!"

Smaug swept over, taking the top of the tower with him. Bard got up from where he ducked down just in the nick of time. Bain was nowhere to be seen, then his voice sounded from over the side of the damaged tower. Bard hurried to the edge to find his son hanging on by one hand. Hastily, he hauled Bain up beside him.

"Now what do we do?" Bain demanded as his father scooped up his bow, broken by Smaug. Bard looked frantically around. The only bow that could withstand the Black Arrow was across town, and the Dragon had more than likely already destroyed it. His eyes came to rest on his son's shoulders.

{Section Break}

"Look out!" shouted Kili, a moment too late.

The little boat rocked dangerously to one side, nearly capsizing as it collided with the Master's lavishly carved barge.

"Get out of the way!" declared the Master, waving his hand at the occupants of the little dory, as though he were simply dismissing them from his sight. "It's a shame we can't take more people with us, but they are –"

"Hardly worth it, sire," finished Alfrid. "We've more weight than we can carry now," he added, gazing over the barge, laden with the entire City Treasury. "We need to lighten the load."

"Quite right, Alfrid," the Master agreed, shoving him overboard.

It took a moment for Bard's little boat to cease shaking. However, within that amount of time, the sailing vessel had been redirected down another channel, away from open water. They had come to a dead end.

"Back it up," the Elf ordered, just before she witnessed Smaug receiving something thin and black through the armor on his right side. She watched in disbelief as the Dragon climbed high into the air, only to seem to lose all energy and come lifelessly falling back toward the lake. "Stop!" she cried to the Dwarves to prevent them from going back out into the main waterway.

The Dragon fell right on top of the Master's boat. Once it had sunk, taking the gold with it, Tauriel deemed the passage safe. They had not propelled over the water very far when a voice sounded to their left.

"Hey! Hey! I'm down here! I'm in the water! I'm a boy again! I'm a boy!"

Everyone on board leaned over the side, staring at a puny, blonde boy, thrashing about in the lake right where Smaug had gone down.

"The boy's delusional," mumbled Fili, while Oin blew threw his ear horn to be sure there was nothing clogging it.

Tauriel's mouth hung down a little as the boy began to scream. "I want to go back to England! I'm going back to England!"

"I've never seen him in Laketown before," commented Sigrid, raising an eyebrow. "What on Arda is he talking about?"

The She-Elf was the first to overcome her shock. "Get him aboard, and quickly; we're still in a burning town."

After the boy had been hauled into the dory, he seemed to fall into an immobile state, some kind of faint, which all were grateful for. As the rest of the Dwarves navigated the boat out onto the main part of the lake, Kili examined the stranger's clothes. They were unlike any other style he or the sisters had ever seen before, and there was a long, bloody tear on the right side of his chest.

"He's wounded, Tauriel," Kili informed. "You'll have to tend to him."

"What do you think he meant by being a boy again?" questioned Sigrid, rubbing a hand gently over the youth's forehead.

Tauriel inspected the wound for herself. She had an idea what the boy had meant, but for everyone's sake, including the stranger's, she thought it best to keep her thoughts to herself.

A.N.: I originally wrote this chapter and the one following it as one chapter, but due to its large size, decided to split it in two. The author's note for this chapter is in the next one. Also, Mrs. Warner is another OC of mine; she is not from the books.

To Michael: Thank you for your excited review. I am glad you are enjoying this story so much. I try to post a new chapter every Wednesday or Thursday. As for how long this story will be, it will take a while, seeing as I haven't even got to the LotR's storyline. I hope you stick around to the end!

Thank you to all of you who have read/reviewed/favorited/followed this story. You make my day when I see that email in my inbox! I hope you enjoy what is to come!