Chapter 1: The Black Arrow Part 2
Bilbo Baggins climbs over a rock, just past the entrance to the Lonely Mountain. They have barely escaped with their own lives and now the company has to watch as the beast they unleashed flies towards the provincial town where two of their own are still located.
He looks back to the company, but they look just as mournful and dumbstruck as him. "What are we going to do?" he asks, leaping down from the rock. "Gailien and Bofur are still down there. Not to mention the rest of Lake-town."
"What can we do?" Dwalin grunts bluntly. "There is no stopping him."
"Gailien knew this was going to happen," Fili realises. "Thorin said she stayed behind for a reason. Why would she want to be there? She…She has to have a plan or something!"
"She is a has a strong will, but I don't think it will be enough to face a dragon, Fili," Balin sighs.
Kili shakes his head, sucking his lips. He stalks forward onto the rock that Bilbo stood on, his brother joining him. Smaug has reached the town and the first breath of fire blows from his mouth, engulfing homes in his flames. "She didn't say goodbye," Kili says to his brother. "She didn't say goodbye because she knows that she's coming back."
Fili nods with tight lips, patting his brother's back.
"Or she knew she wouldn't be," Gloin states from behind them. Fili's head snaps over his shoulder, glaring at the red-haired Dwarf but Kili chooses to ignore it. "Goodbye's are hard when you know they're forever."
"Where is Thorin?" Oin questions. Bilbo gestures to his side, down a small hill. The Dwarves shuffle closer to his viewpoint. Thorin stands alone, staring at the mountain. There is no telling what his thoughts are, but they lie in the mountain, not even taking notice of the town's desolation.
Xx
Smoke fills her lungs as she continues running through the town. Fire burns in all directions as Smaug flies over them freely, choosing where his next victims lay. Gailien recognises where she is and that only makes her booted feet run faster, the turns mapping themselves in her head.
People try to flee by all means. Running along the roads, taking boats. Some are even trying to swim. There is an explosion behind her, but she only hears it, not risking wasting any time to look at something that she cannot help.
She watches with disgust as the Master's boat sails past her. It is loaded with what seems to be the entire town's treasury and only the Master and Alfrid aboard. She hopes nothing but what they deserve comes to them.
Then she spots another boat. This time her feet do slow down so she can speak to them. Bofur notices her. "Lass! You have to jump on, you'll die here!" Bofur, Bard's three children and surprisingly, Tauriel who directs them are onboard. Gailien shakes her head. If she does die here, then at least she'll go down in flames. Literally. It is a morbid thought, but it is ironic since that is exactly how she has her funeral arrangements written in her contract. Doesn't look like they'll have to do much for her at this stage.
"Just get them out of here!" she exclaims. "I've still got something to do."
She picks her pace up to speed once more, rounding a corner. Bofur sighs with frustration and concern as she does. He is already imagining having to deliver the news. If the rest of the company are even still alive.
Gailien finally finds it, recalling the buildings she had run past. Her eyes trace the lines from building to water as she jogs down the path, trying to find the exact spot. But her memory is foggy, and it wasn't something she had taken special note in.
Her feet slow down to a walk as she breathes heavily through her mouth. Her nose and eyes are scrunched in thought, trying to find anything that could be an indicator of the exact point. Helplessness begins to overwhelm her as she realises that she actually has no idea where the arrow has fallen.
The dragon flies overhead and she ducks but his flames burn the next street over. But it is a blessing in disguise. Just as she begins to rise, she spots a dark patch on the ground just a few meters in front of her. With wide eyes she marches over to it, kneeling down. It is blood.
Her fingers drift up to her pounding forehead. She pulls them back, and sure enough, her fingers are coated in both dry and wet blood. She moves around to the other side, mimicking the position she fell in. Her arm outstretches as it was before, and she pinpoints the exact spot that the arrow should have fallen in – if her memory serves her correctly.
Wasting no time, she walks to the edge of the water and looks down. It is black, a few chunks of ice still bobbing about. There is no way to tell if she is right – if it even is her blood but there is no other choice.
Pulling off her jacket, Gailien breathes heavily on the edge, preparing her body for the icy temperature and to hold her breath. There is no telling how deep the water even is, but if they built their town on it, then it shouldn't be unachievable.
She dives in headfirst, kicking her legs as soon as they touch the water. Her eyes are open, but they may as well not be as there is no light reaching the water. If it isn't for the natural instinct, she would have no idea which way is up or down.
The water is deeper than she thought, and her lungs start to strain even before she meets the bottom. Finally, her outstretched hands find the sandy-gravel lake-bottom. Her hands blindly search around. She lets her legs sink, using them to search as well but there is nothing other than small stones, sand and seagrass.
She searches until her lungs start to give in against her instinct to breathe. Tilting back upwards, she kicks off the bottom and surges towards the surface. The saltwater burns her open wounds on the front and back of her head, but she barely feels them. She gasps loudly as she breaks the surface, coughing up the water that has seep past her lips. But just as she begins to regain her breath, Smaug flies over her. Gailien doesn't see him, but she sees the line of fire coming her way.
Without time to even take a breath, Gailien dives back under the water. The air right above the surface becomes completely engulfed in flames as she waits a few meters below. The flames disappear with nothing to burn on the water and she kicks back to the surface once more.
A nearby boat burns high and her own jacket is already withering away. She could be wrong, it could be anybody's blood. Or not even blood. With no time to even catch her breath, Gailien dives once more into the watery depths. She focuses on swimming straight down, not letting herself drift to the side.
Her hand reaches the bottom once again and the blind search begins. Her hands run through the sand-gravel, her feet sweeping out across to cover as much ground as possible. Just as she thinks she is going to have to go up again, her finger brushes against something hard. Her head snaps in its direction but of course, there is nothing to see.
She races her hand over the area again and she nearly takes a breath in relief. Her fingers tightly grasp the metal shaft and her feet push off the seafloor. It takes her longer to reach the surface, weighed down by exhaustion; but she still has a long mission in front of her to go.
She claws at the wooden path, next to her burning jacket. She heaves her leg onto it, pulling the rest of her body and the arrow up. Her clothes are heavy, the thick, winter materials down a sponge to the icy water. Even with all the fire around, her bones shiver and she glares at her now useless jacket.
Gailien sprints back through the town. Most of the people have evacuated the centre, streaming to the outer edges. It seems Smaug doesn't care where he aims, just spreading his flames wherever there is a lack of the orange light.
With her eyes on the Wind-lance, Gailien quickly zips towards it. Fortunately, the structure still stood but if she does not hurry, there is no doubt it will soon also be swallowed in fire.
The structure begins to tower over her as she nears its base. Bard stands near the door, his head turning every which way as he looks for any sign. "Here!" she cries. Bard's shoulders drop in relief as she runs towards him, handing him the large weapon. She bends her hands on her knees, shivering and exhausted. Bard opens the door to the Wind-lance tower, storming up the winding stairs.
Gailien pushes herself back up straight. She glances around, but Smaug must be circling somewhere else and so she follows Bard up the stairs. Her limp is very prominent, with no care being taken to hide it and the heavy pounding of the stairs makes it ache even more so. Bard is already near the top, jumping up multiple steps at a time.
Finally, she reaches the already open trapdoor and she climbs through the hole, onto the roof platform. The wind-lance is a huge contraception, almost like a sort of crossbow but with the power of four arms rather than two. Bard is loading the Black Arrow into position. The entire town is alight. Every building has flames clawing out the windows for oxygen. The bell on the bell tower ringing loud in warning.
"Stay low," she warns him, crouching down slightly. "We don't want him to see us until the right moment or he could take us down before we even have a chance." Bard silently follows her advice.
The problem with changing the future is that she has no idea how it is going to turn out. In her brief glimpses, she had seen Bard on the bell tower, not the Wind-lance. She hadn't even seen the outcome of those events and she begins to wonder whether intervening is a good idea in the first place.
The pair stay low, covered slightly by the low wooden fencing. They watch Smaug circle the other side of the town, diving low to wreak havoc before gliding back up high to look down upon his work.
"If this doesn't work, then I'm sorry."
Bard spares her a blank expression. "You won't need to be sorry; you'll already be paying the ultimate price." Her death, and his. And all of Lake-towns'. "But it will work."
Gailien assesses Smaug. It needs to be the perfect angle to pierce his hide. "We need to hit it straight on," she speaks aloud. "We need him flying directly at us or we risk not having a mortal blow."
"What are you going to do, taunt him?" Bard snarls. Gailien tips her head from side to side in consideration.
"Something like that," she answers. Gailien crawls to the edge of the tower, peering out over the edge. Smaug is to their left. They can aim the wind-lance that direction, but if Smaug so much as turns further, the mechanism will not be able to follow. So, they wait as Smaug circles right around until he flies into the path they need.
Gailien jumps up onto the small fence ledge, holding onto one of the support beams. Bard watches incredulously but prepares himself at the wind-lance. Gailien can hardly believe herself right now. She's about to taunt a dragon – and direct it to her.
"Smaug the Terrible!" she cries out. Smaug's large eye pins on her but he keeps flying around in front of them. "I have yet to see why you have earnt such a name!" Her chest heaves as she yells the words at the top of her lungs.
"Don't think I haven't seen you, little creature. Or you, bowman," Smaug growls with an animalistic purr. "No bigger than my smallest claw and you think you stand a chance." He swoops past them, revealing the underside of his belly. Gailien falls back to the floor, landing on her tailbone painfully. Growling, she rolls onto her front, pushing back up to her ledge.
She waits until he flies out, and mentally lines him up with the straight aim of the wind-lance. "Then prove yourself!" Her throat burns, competing against the cold wind blowing against her freezing clothes. Smaug moves as she anticipates. He moves around in a small circle, his eyes narrowing on them.
The town is forgotten to all three as Smaug soars towards them, his stomach alight with the source of his wrath. Her hair blows across her face, but her hands are holding steady on the beams above her, presenting herself as a target. She glances down at Bard who holds the wind-lance steady, adjusting his aim ever so slightly as Smaug moves closer.
"Any day now, Bard," she mutters to herself. Smaug is so close that he takes up most of her vision and Gailien jumps back down onto the platform, ignoring the sting of pain it sends from her tailbone. Her breathing quickens as Smaug is almost upon them, his heavily toothed jaw opening. "Bard!"
The arrow flies.