A/N: hey all, I'm back after a long writing hiatus. For those who are curious, I'm still working on my Boba Fett story. I just have to sit down and figure some stuff out. This story has been sitting in my files for a king time. A little love for Bard always seem needed!
Disclaimer: I own nothing recognizable as Tolkien's genius
Prologue
Freya shifted on her hard seat, her troubled eyes seeking her husband. He half sat, half leaning against the opposite side of the time warn table. Unseeing, her eyes drifted down his ruggedly handsome features and long blond hair held back in a leather thong. She had heard the rumors of dwarves in Lake Town long before Bard arrived at her doorstep with his troubled brow, seeking her husband's council. Word traveled quickly in the town upon the lake. Therefore she heard the tale without stepping foot outside. Freya saw the danger if the rumors were true, but this wasn't the first tale she'd heard of dwarves near the mountain, and she had other things to think about.
Her Bowen was to return home today after fishing on the lake for the last two. And, like always, she had missed him. But this time, she hoped to have her own news to share with him soon.
Now, with the telling of Bard's tale, dark things occupied her thoughts.
"We will rue this day," Bard spat, bringing her attention back to his grim face. The simmering anger in his voice grew as he continued, "We are on the edge of ruin, and the Master feasts with the bringers of our doom."
A fresh wave of dread slithered along Freya's spine in response. The room remained silent until Bowen abruptly straightened up and paced to the fireplace near where the Bargeman stood. When Bowen turned, he looked as bleak as their friend.
"You truly believe the King under the Mountain has returned?" he asked, after staying silent through most of Bard's words.
The question was needless. Freya had known Bard a very long time, and Bowen had known him even longer. When he spoke, he spoke the truth, but still, she watched his troubled face, hoping he was wrong.
After a pregnant moment, Bard answered, "It doesn't matter if he isn't Thorin, son of Thrain. If the dwarves enter that mountain, they will wake the beast."
"What is to be done?" Bowen asked.
"I don't know, but we should be watchful and prepare as best we can."
Freya studied the Bargeman's features for a moment. What good would it be if he was right when most didn't sense the danger? "Should we leave?"
Both men's attention returned to her, but it was her husband's she sought. She saw the answer she already knew reflected in his pale blue eyes. There was no place for them to go.
"I should get back to my family," Bard said. Then, stepping away from the fireplace, he clasped arms with Bowen. "Take care, my friend."
Freya stood, her thoughts instantly going to his children. "Have you..." She began, her words trailing off as a picture of their faces filled her head, especially Tilda's. There was no need to finish the question, she knew he understood, and the look in his eyes told her enough. Bard gave a short nod.
"I'll come by in the morning."
Nodding his head again, he said, "They'd like that."
"I'll see you home, my friend," Bowen offered, drawing her attention again. He came to her, brushing her lips softly with his own. "I won't be long, Love."
She didn't want him to go, but she knew there were things neither man was comfortable speaking of in front of her. So she nodded and squeezed his hand. Then her attention returned to their companion, and she said his name, "Bard."
"Freya."
She watched until the door closed behind them, trying to ignore the foreboding growing inside her, but it was to no avail. Her mind shifted back to her news, and those fears intermingled with her new ones, weaving their way through her.
Her hand settled over her stomach. What were they to do?
The Next Night
Terror rent the night, shadowing all in fire and darkness. Smaug's great wings flapped on the breeze, skimming the crumbling rooftops. They fanned the flames to even greater heights as Bowen wove his way through the chaos of people running to and fro, only one thing on his mind.
Freya.
He had left her not long after the ground shook the second time. He had told her to pack a satchel and stay put until he returned, but that wasn't so comforting. Overhead the dragons screamed as if echoing the thought. Bowen cast a wary eye toward the heavens, tightened his hand around the riser of his longbow, then jumped the distance from one walkway to the next. The boards splintered a little when his feet hit them, but he barely noticed before he ran again.
His heart pounded harder as the dragon gave another scream and sprayed fire across another portion of the town. He never should have left her alone. He had gone to find Bard, only to find his home empty. He had seen the children in a boat with the she-elf and the dwarves who had been left behind, but there was no sign of Bard. Amid the ensuing chaos, he finally found someone who told him his friend had been arrested.
Bowen held his breath as he rounded the corner, and his house came into view. The relief he felt that it still stood instantly disappeared when he found buildings had fallen over the canal behind it, blocking it and the route he had planned to escape on. Not missing a stride, Bowen knew that not being able to use his own boat to escape meant navigating the burning town. He took the steps to the front door two at a time, bellowing her name. "Freya!"
The door swung open as he yelled for a second time, and she froze, her green eyes huge. Bowen saw what had caused her terror from the corner of his eye. The dragon was silhouetted against the night sky as he rounded the bridge leading into the town.
Bowen grabbed her hand, yanking her down the steps. Somewhere behind them, dozens of screams filled the air, along with the sound of splintering timber.
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Freya stumbled, nearly bringing both of them to the ground. "The boat?" she questioned.
They had packed some things into last night in case of this, but he couldn't get to it. He shook his head. He saw a new wave of fear flash through her eyes.
"We'll be fine; just don't let go," Bowen hollered over the chaos. Tightening his grip on her small hand. He continued pulling her away from the noise toward the boats moored at the marketplace in the heart of the town. He didn't allow himself to question what they would do if no boats were left or the way was blocked.
Lake Town was already burned on both sides. Smoke and ash filled the air, burning Bowen's eyes and lungs as they ran through the maze of fleeing people and burning buildings. The dragon turned overhead, diving toward the helpless town again. His great jaws opened, spewing a new fire trail over the structures just to their right.
Bowen moved to the left and down another alley at the exact moment. There was a great groaning noise, and the boards under their feet shuddered as a building somewhere close gave way.
Ahead of them, a closed bridge that spanned the walkway was beginning to fall. Bowen kept his eyes on it and ran faster. It crashed to the boardwalk just after they ran under it, covering them both in cinder and ash. On the other side, the path was gone, sunken below the water by another falling building.
Bowen's steps slowed as he searched for another way around. His attention alighted on a ladder leading up from the water across from where they stood.
"We have to swim," Freya said. She let go of his hand, stepped past him, and lowered herself into the water, disturbing the image of flames that danced across it. The buildings closest to them would be in an inferno soon. Bowen slid his bow over his chest and followed her.
They swam the short distance, and Freya climbed up first. Taking Freya's hand in his again, Bowen didn't waste a second. Just past the buildings, the fire was far less, and he could see the marketplace. A handful of people climbed into a vessel on the opposite side.
"Wait!" he hollered, just as someone pointed at them.
He gripped Freya's small hand harder and glanced down at her. Already falling ash coated her pale face and wet clothing.
He pushed Freya in front of him as they reached the boat, casting a worried look back over his shoulder. The city was in flames.
"Go!" Bowen ordered as soon as she was in the boat.
"Bowen," she hollered, lunging toward him and grabbing his tunic.
"No!" she pleaded as he tried to push her away.
He took hold of her arms and pulled her up, kissing her softly. "I have to find Bard. When you get to shore, find the children. I will find you."
She visibly swallowed, tears clouding her eyes as she nodded.
"I love you," he said, brushing dark hair from her face. He gently kissed her one last time, then lifted his head.
"I love you," she said as he stepped away.
Bowen remained where he was, holding her gaze as they pushed off. A moment later, he turned and headed for the jail, hoping to find his friend.
The Grey Morning Light
Freya fought tears as she watched Bard walk down the beach toward her. The helpless feeling she carried swirled and grew, changing into something much heavier as it settled in the pit of her stomach.
Some part of her had known he wasn't there even before the boats drew close enough to see. Still, she had risen and hurried away from the fire burning down the beach.
Shifting on the rocks where she sat, Freya tightened her arms around her knees and hid her face. Her damp clothing made the chill dancing across her skin worsen. Bard's long strides across the stones and sand ate up the distance, and he stopped in front of her.
He remained silent for several moments before finally speaking, his voice soft and hesitant, "Freya?"
She shifted on the rocks, hugging herself tighter.
"We.." he started again, his voice broken. "I…."
A silent sob wracked her spine.
No! She wanted to scream no!
She shook her head, fighting sobs.
She didn't want him to speak.
"Frey." He all but whispered next.
Seconds later, the sound of another set of hurried steps filled her ears, and someone was kneeling beside her.
"Freya, Sweetheart," a new but still familiar voice said softly, and Hilda was pulling her into her arms and rocking her gently. She made a soft shushing sound and said, "it will be all right, Love."
After another moment Freya stood, brushing her tears away, "We'd best go."
"Freya," Bard tried again, reaching a hand toward her as she passed. She dodged him, not even acknowledging his presence. "I'm sorry," he whispered to her retreating form. A knife twisted in his gut.
His heavy gaze followed her as she walked away. He had no idea what to say or do. He had searched as much of what remained of Lake Town as he could, but he'd found no sign of his lifelong friend anywhere.
He had somehow known, even before he and the others rowed back across the water he wouldn't. Worse still, it was his fault. Percy told him as they were leaving that Bowen had left Freya to search for him.
A gentle hand settled on his arm, reminding him he wasn't alone. A sad understanding filled Hilda's dark eyes, and she squeezed his arm lightly.
"I'll watch her."
Thanks for reading!