The next couple of days were, thankfully, quiet. As instructed, the dwarves and hobbit stayed put inside the inn, though they found themselves quickly growing bored. Even Baylee, who could amuse herself in a kitchen for hours on end, had soon tired of cooking and the cleaning up that would come afterwards.
Kili, meanwhile, was healing quite nicely. He slept most of the first two days, waking just long enough to drink some broth or nibble some bread before falling back to sleep. By the third day, however, he was sitting up in bed and talking quite happily with the others—at least, he was trying to talk with the others. It was a difficult task, given that he was constantly shoving spoonfuls of stew into his mouth.
Except when he was speaking with Tauriel, that is. Whenever she came to check on him, he would be on his best behavior.
"It's not right, you know," Oin grumbled during supper of the fifth day. "I appreciate her help with healin' the lad an' stickin' around t' make sure he continues t' heal well, but she's an elf. He shouldn't be flirtin' with her as much as he is. Or at all, for that matter." He shoved a bite of roasted chicken into his mouth.
Bofur waved a dismissive hand at him as he took a drink of his beer. "I wouldn't think too much into it, Oin," he said. "The lad's got a wee crush on the lass, but I doubt it'll turn into anythin' more than that." As he spoke, he made sure to sign a translation to Oin so they wouldn't have to shout in order for him to hear what was being said.
"For his sake, I hope it's just a crush," Fili sighed. He poked at his roasted vegetables, watching as they moved around his plate. "This is the first time he's ever shown interest in a lass before." Shaking his head, he plucked up a piece of bread and slathered some butter on it. "And, o' course, it has to be an elven lass he gets a crush on…Uncle's going to be thrilled to hear that."
"I don't really see a problem with it," Baylee spoke up, her brow rising. "I know elves and dwarves don't always get along the best, but don't you think Tauriel's done more than enough to prove that she doesn't harbor any hatred towards you like Thranduil does?" Using both hands, she picked up the gravy bowl and drizzled some gravy over her chicken.
"Aye, but we're the only ones who know that," Oin reminded her. "Thorin an' the rest o' them don't know what she's done to help us. An' even if we were t' tell them, I doubt they'd have an easy time believin' us, given what happened in Mirkwood."
Fili nodded in agreement as he chewed a bite of his bread. "Aye, that's true. Uncle, especially, will have a hard time believing us, even if we've got proof in Kili's healed leg."
"Which, mind you, we're going t' have t' be careful tellin' Thorin that it was an elf an' not Oin who healed his nephew," Bofur stated. He was using a piece of bread to sop up whatever juices had gathered on his plate. "Not sure how he'd react t' learnin' that the captain o' Thranduil's guard was the one t' get the orc poison out o' his body."
"I can be the one to tell him," Baylee sighed. "Something tells me he won't get as upset if I were to be the one to break the news to him." A small, halfhearted chuckle left her mouth as she leaned forward to grab a slice of bread for herself.
"Good idea, lassie," Oin said with an approving nod. "O' course, you can only do that if we end up seein' him an' the others again."
At that, the others frowned; they had been doing their best to be optimistic in regards to how their companions were doing, but it was growing harder and harder each day. With no way of knowing if the others had made it to the mountain yet—or even still lived, for that matter—their minds were more often jumping to the worst conclusions now instead of the best.
"The only thing we can do is try t' be as positive as possible," Fili stated. "For all we know, they're safe an' sound, eating their supper next to a giant dragon's skull."
"Ah, I doubt they're doin' that," Bofur told him. "Today's Durin's Day—even if they made it t' the mountain, they won't be able t' find the door until the last light o' the sun lights up that side o' the morning."
"Today is Durin's Day?" Oin questioned, his eyes widening. When Bofur nodded, he quietly swore. "I thought there were still another two days left…"
"Amazin' how you tend t' lose track o' time when you're bored out o' your mind, isn't it?" Bofur quietly chuckled and shook his head. "But no, today is most definitely Durin's Day. Given the distance the others needed t' cover, though, I would imagine that they have made it t' the mountain by this point."
Baylee swallowed another bite of her bread. "Knowing Thorin, though, I have no doubt that he pressed the others to keep traveling well into the night this past week," she said with a small sigh. "More than likely, they're exhausted as they sit and wait for that door to show up." Some movement past Bofur caught her attention and she sat up a bit straighter in order to see what it had been.
What she saw was Kili limping his way out into the common room with his mostly-empty dinner plate in hand; following behind him was Tauriel, who was holding her own plate and had a look of concern on her face.
"Kili, you really should still be in bed," the elf was telling him, her tone a bit scolding. "I could have asked the others to come join us instead!"
"I'm fine," he told her, a proud grin on his lips as he limped over to the table. "My leg hardly hurts anymore—it's just stiff! What better way t' get rid of the stiffness than coming out here to eat with my friends?" He then shrugged. "Anyway, there wouldn't be enough room for all of us in there—not unless Baylee and Fili were to hide under the bed as they ate."
"She's right, Kili," Bofur said with a frown. "You should still be in bed." Despite his words, he scooted over enough to let the younger prince sit beside his brother. Across from him, Oin was scooting over to give Tauriel room. "Your leg might not hurt now, but it'll be achin' something horrible come morning because you used it too soon."
Shaking his head, Kili climbed up into the chair and moved to serve himself some more chicken from the platter in the center of the table. "Between the wonderful care Oin and Tauriel have been given me, my leg's feeling the best it has since I was hit by that arrow," he chirped.
"He's also feeling quite stubborn today," Tauriel added, her brow rising somewhat as she took a seat.
Baylee quietly laughed. "So, in essence, he's back to his old self?" she joked. She popped a bit of chicken into her mouth, smiling when Kili blew a raspberry at her.
"Yes, I do believe that is a correct assumption," Tauriel smiled.
A couple of hours later found the two females sitting up in Baylee's room, each holding a steaming mug of tea. Downstairs, Fili and Bofur were working on getting the dishes washed up while Oin was doing his best to make sure that Kili stayed put by the fire.
Tauriel let out a soft hum of content as she took a drink of her tea. "I must admit, Little Mistress, that meal you made tonight rivals that of the royal kitchens back home," she told her, a smile on her lips.
Her cheeks turning a bit pink, Baylee smiled. "That's high praise, considering how delicious the smells coming from the kitchens were," she chuckled. "But I'm also glad to hear that you enjoyed your meal. It's a bit of a hard feat, making enough food for four dwarves, a hobbit, and an elf while also making it still taste good."
"I can only imagine that task becomes even more difficult when you have thirteen dwarves and two hobbits to feed."
"Not too much harder, actually. But that's because Bombur does the majority of the cooking while I do my best to help him."
She nodded in understanding, blowing across the top of her tea. "Bombur…he was the—ah, the…"
"Very rotund one?" Baylee giggled as Tauriel nodded. "Yes, that's Bombur. It can be a chore, cooking with him sometimes. He tends to do more taste-testing than cooking. Bofur's usually around to knock some sense into him, though."
"They're siblings, then?" She watched the hobbit lass take a drink of tea before she nodded. "I would have never guessed. He bears more of a resemblance to the other redheaded dwarf—Gloin, I think his name was." Taking a sip of her own tea, she deemed it still too hot to drink and set it down on the bedside table.
A contemplative look came to Baylee's face as she pictured Gloin and Bombur standing beside one another. "Now that you mention it, they do look quite similar," she agreed. "They're not even from the same clan, though—Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur are Broadbeams. Everyone else are Longbeards."
"And then there are you and your father—or, supposedly, your father." A bit of mischief came to her eyes. "I've yet to actually see this mysterious, invisible father of yours. I'm beginning to wonder if he even exists."
"I assure you, my da' exists," Baylee laughed. Even though Tauriel was an elf, it was nice to have another girl to talk to—or, rather, another woman to talk to. "It was by his doing that we got out of Mirkwood in the first place."
"Mhm…I will believe you once I see him with my own eyes." A playful smile had come to her lips. "Though, I must ask…why are you on this journey, Little Mistress? I know very little of hobbits, but what I do know is that they prefer to keep to themselves."
A quiet sigh left Baylee's mouth as she gazed down into her tea; she watched as the oils and tiny bits of leaves that had slipped past the strainer swirled around in the hot liquid. "To be honest, I thought it would be fun to go on an adventure. It sounded like a grand idea at the time: Seeing new places, meeting new races, reclaiming an ancestral homeland…It was the sort of thing I had only ever read about." She closed her eyes, sighing once more—this one, however, bore the full weight of her weariness from the last few months. "I've since learned why it's better to read about certain things than to experience them firsthand."
A pitying expression came to Tauriel's face as she looked down at the hobbit. "Your journey has been difficult for dwarves, and they're quite the hardy beings. It must be thrice as hard for someone such as yourself."
"Other than running into some trolls and being chased by a pack of orcs, all was going quite well until we reached the Misty Mountains," she explained. "We had ponies to ride, the lands were easy enough to traverse, it was easy to forage for greens, berries, and roots…Even if I had lost sight in one eye, I was having quite a bit of fun."
"What happened when you reached the Misty Mountains?" she asked, her head tilting ever so slightly.
"Reality and the gravity of the situation set in." Leaning over, she set her mug down on the nightstand. "I'm fairly certain it didn't happen to just me and my da', either…I don't think anyone but Balin, Dwalin, and Thorin had any idea of the sorts of perils that awaited us. Even though we knew that there was a possibility of running into a dragon at the very end of the journey, we all thought it'd just be a fun hike across Middle Earth." She shook her head.
Tauriel nodded slowly in understanding. "I can only imagine how horrible the shock it brought you—" She was suddenly cut off as the building shuddered hard enough to make dust fall from the ceiling and Baylee topple backwards.
"W-what was that!?" Baylee squeaked. Downstairs, she could hear the muffled and surprised swearing of the dwarves.
Her eyes narrowing, Tauriel hurried over to the window and, throwing back the curtain, she peered out into the night. "I do not know, Little Mistress, but whatever it was can't be anything good."
Baylee felt the color drain from her face and, sliding off the bed, she hurried over to the window as well. Standing on her tiptoes in order to get a better view, she bit her lower lip; there wasn't much to see out in the darkness. She swallowed hard before looking up at Tauriel. "Do you think…do you think that it was Smaug?"
"Today was the day when Thorin and the others had to reach the mountain by, correct?" she asked, her eyes still focused on something far out in the distance.
"Yes."
"Then it very well could have been." Undoing the window's lock, she pushed it open and poked her head outside.
When she looked up, Baylee found that Tauriel had closed her eyes, her brows knitted together in concentration. She remained silent, knowing the elf was trying to listen for any distant sounds. Thinking it was a good idea, she did the same, though she knew her own range of hearing was paltry compared to Tauriel's.
It took a bit of work to tune out the nearby murmurs of the worried residents of Laketown as the came out of their homes, but she eventually managed to hear sounds that were farther away—sounds of the lake lapping against the shore and of the wind in the trees. She thought she could even hear an owl hooting away in the night.
A few minutes passed and no troubling sounds could be heard. Looking back up at the elf, Baylee opened her mouth to speak, but before she could even utter a sound, she was cut off by a distant and extremely bone-chilling roar; Tauriel gasped in horror. The sound made her eyes widen and her body freeze up in terror.
"We don't have much time—we need to get out of the city," she said, looking down at the hobbit lass. "Smaug will be here in less than half an hour."
Baylee stiffly nodded before forcing herself to move away from the window and grab her sword belt; it was a challenge, though. Her fingers fumbled with fastening it around her waist, but she managed after a moment. Her mind raced with thoughts of her father and of Thorin and of the others.
Did this mean they were…gone?
She could feel her eyes beginning to sting at the thought of losing them—and now, of possibly losing the friends that were here in Laketown. 'Don't think like that, Baylee,' she silently scolded herself. Swallowing hard, she lightly shook her head and wiped away the tears before they had the chance to fall. 'Don't think like that…You can't think like that. Not right now. There are too many other lives at stake now…'
A small squeak of surprise left her mouth as Tauriel suddenly picked her up. "My apologies, Little Mistress, but time is of the essence," she said, hurrying out of the room.
"I-it's fine. Startled me is all." As Tauriel made it to the stairs, they could both hear the dwarves talking amongst themselves, their voices worried and quick.
"Tauriel! Baylee!" Bofur stood up when he saw the pair descending the stairs. "That was some earthquake, wasn't it?" He let out a nervous chuckle; it was obvious he knew that it was no earthquake that had shaken the inn.
Tauriel shook her head. "It wasn't an earthquake," she quickly said. "It was Smaug—he's coming this way. We need to leave now." In perfect timing to emphasize the urgency in her voice, the warning bells of the city guard began to ring out through the night.
There was a chorus of swearing in both Westron and Khuzdul as, without question, the males jumped out of their seats and hurried towards the door of the inn. Tauriel followed them, still clutching Baylee to her like a child.
Once they were outside, they found that the city, which had been quiet no less than five minutes ago, was in the beginning stages of chaos. A cacophony of shouts and sobs filled the air as people rushed out of their homes, many carrying whatever belongings were most treasured to them. Others were rushing to their neighbor's homes, intent on alerting them to the danger if they had managed to sleep through the tolling of the bells. Still more were trying to scramble into whatever boat was nearest to them so they could, hopefully, avoid any foot traffic while fleeing the city.
"We'll never make it out o' here in all this chaos—not with one o' us being injured," Oin stated, his voice full of worry.
"We should find Bard," Baylee said. "He'll know the quickest ways to get out of the city."
Fili swallowed hard as the others looked at him; he knew that, ultimately, this was his call. Knowing that time was precious, he nodded in agreement with Baylee. "Bard has that barge, too. That could hold all of us and then some."
"Then what're we waiting for?" Bofur questioned. "Let's get going!" Before Fili could say anything, he was sprinting past the prince in the direction of Bard's home.
Normally, it wouldn't take them more than ten minutes to reach Bard's home, but with the crowds of panicking people, the group was impeded. They kept getting pushed out of the way or bumped into—Kili was even knocked over at one point and the only thing that kept him from falling into the icy water was Baylee, whose foot he had grabbed onto.
But if he hadn't nearly toppled into the water, the group wouldn't have seen a most welcomed sight: Bain, Sigrid, and Tilda. They weren't in their father's barge, but in a smaller boat that Bain was quickly punting through the canal. Seeing Tauriel first and then the hobbit and dwarves, he started to push the boat towards the dock.
Bard, however, was missing.
"We were hoping we'd see you lot," Bain said, the fear and urgency all too evident in his voice. "Hurry and get in—we need to get going now!"
"Where's your father?" Fili asked, helping Kili into the boat first.
The children exchanged worried glances as Oin was helped into the boat next. "He's going to the armory and then to the belltower," Sigrid finally answered. "He…he's going to try to bring down the dragon."
"What!? That's insanity!" exclaimed Bofur. "Why in the name o' Mahal does he think he can bring a dragon down all by his lonesome?" He climbed into the boat before all but yanking Fili down into it as well.
"Something tells me it has to do with Girion's failure to kill Smaug the first time around," Baylee said.
"Bard is a strong and capable man," Tauriel said, crouching down to set Baylee beside Tilda. Then, moving to the stern, she lightly stepped down and took the pole from Bain, starting to push them down the canal. "If anyone in this city can slay that foul creature, it will surely be him."
"With a name like 'Bard the Bowman', it'd be hard not t' imagine him as a great shot," Oin agreed with a nod. Inwardly, however, he didn't think a human such as Bard could bring down a dragon—not when nine, crafty dwarves couldn't do it.
Rather than keep them out in the open of the channel, Tauriel guided the boat under the boardwalks, though she had to get on her knees to do such. Not even a minute later, a deafening roar broke through the night. It was shortly followed by what sounded like a whirlwind. Screams filled the air and there were splashes as people threw themselves into the freezing water to avoid Smaug's flames.
Tilda clung onto Sigrid, whimpering quietly. Bain leaned over and wrapped his arms around both his sisters, holding them close to him.
Swallowing hard, Baylee clenched her eyes shut and wrapped her arms around herself. She prayed to whatever Vala would listen for this to be one of her nightmares. That she could open her eyes and she would wake up in a bed that was much too big for her with the sound of dwarves laughing heartily in the background. She knew better, though; as real as her dreams felt at times, this was far too real.
The boardwalk above them shuddered as Smaug flew by again, raking his claws through the buildings. Shattered wood and broken walls were sent tumbling into the canal.
"I don't know if it's safer t' stay under here or t' be out in the open," Bofur murmured. "We're stuck between bein' roasted alive or bein' buried alive…"
Fili turned, giving Bofur a small glare. "Don't say that," he scolded. "We're going to get through this. It's going to be hell, but we will get through this. All of us." Now that they had gotten nearer to the opposite edge of the boardwalk, he could see the burning buildings around them. Where Smaug was, though, he couldn't tell.
"Even papa?" Tilda asked, her voice little more than a scared whisper. "Is he going to get through this, too?"
"Shh," Sigrid shushed, gently stroking the back of her head. "Papa's going to try his hardest to get back to us. Isn't that right, Bain?"
Bain, who had been looking past the burning buildings in an attempt to try and find his father, somewhat absentmindedly replied, "Y-yeah. Of course he is." His eyes narrowed slightly as he thought he spotted someone climbing the belltower and, glancing at Tauriel, he asked, "My lady, are you able to see if anyone's on the belltower…?"
Though confused by his question, Tauriel looked over at the building in the heart of the city. Her eyes widened slightly when she found that there was a person climbing up its ladder—Bard. "It's your father," she told him. "He has a long bow and a quiver full of arrows with him."
Baylee's eyes opened as she frowned; from the corner of her eye, she could see that the dwarves were wearing a similar expression.
"Just plain arrows?" Bain asked, confusion on his face.
Tauriel nodded.
"Arrows will do nothing against a dragon," Kili stated. "No matter how sharp their tips are, he'll never be able to pierce Smaug's armor."
"But papa knows only the black arrow can get through dragon hide," Sigrid frowned. "Why wouldn't he have it with him?"
A look of realization came to Bain's face and he swore. "Because he doesn't know where it is," he answered. "A few months ago, he had me change its hiding spot because the Master's minions were getting bolder in their snooping of our house, but I never had the chance to tell him where I hid it." Shaking his head, he suddenly stood up. "Lady Tauriel, can you get us closer to that boat?" He pointed at a small, two-person boat that was tied to the trunk of a piling.
"What are you doing, lad?!" Bofur cried. "You can't leave—not with that thing flyin' around, burnin' everything!"
"I have to at least try and get the black arrow to da'." He nimbly hopped from their boat to the smaller one. Sitting himself down, he started trying to untie the mooring line, but the rope was swollen with water and frozen solid.
The boat shifted slightly. "Move your hands." Bain barely had time to obey the order when a long, sharp knife was swung in front of him, its blade easily cutting through the rope. His eyes widening in shock, he looked over and saw Baylee standing there. She was ignoring the protesting cries from the dwarves and his sisters as they continued to sail away. "I'm not letting you go alone," she told him simply.
He gave her a small smile and nodded in understanding. "Alright, hand me that oar behind you, then," he said, watching her sheath her sword.
Doing as instructed, she grabbed the oar and handed it over to him before also sitting down. Using an oar proved to be much faster than a pole and, being in a smaller boat, they were able to maneuver around those who were trying to flee the city.
"Why would your father need to keep a single arrow hidden?" she asked.
"It's not a normal arrow—it's the last black arrow forged by Thrór as a sign of allyship with the kingdom of Dale," he explained. They both jumped as Smaug roared again. "And it was made to be fired by a wind lance." His house was in view now and, seeing it untouched by the dragon, he sped up his paddling.
"A wind lance? I've never heard of those."
"Basically, a giant crossbow. It's—" He suddenly swore and threw the oar down into the boat before leaning over and grabbing hold of one of the pilings, stopping the boat just in time to avoid being burnt to a crisp by dragon fire.
There was the sound of wood cracking and falling into the water. As the burst of flames disappeared, the pair could see that the house was half destroyed and had been set alight—along with every other building in sight.
"Oh no," Baylee murmured, her eyes wide and the color draining from her face.
"We—We might still be able to get it!" Picking up the oar, he started to paddle once more. "I hid it on the first floor; it's the second floor that's damaged!"
Biting her lower lip, she looked over her shoulder at him. "We're going to have to be quick," she told him. "The house isn't structurally sound anymore—it could collapse at any minute!"
"I know exactly where the arrow is—it shouldn't take us more than three minutes," he assured her. As the boat bumped into the small dock under the house, he flung what was left of the mooring line around a piling and managed to fasten it into a quick knot. Then, clamoring out of the boat, he helped Baylee out as well before sprinting up the stairs.
Baylee followed after him as quick as she could, wanting to keep an eye on him, but when she turned the corner to head up the second flight of steps, she found Bain cursing and pushing against a large beam that had fallen in front of the doorway. "Don't do that!" she squeaked. "You could make it worse!"
"I need to get past it, though!" He looked down at her with desperation on his face as he tried to shove the beam again, but it didn't budge.
Standing on her tiptoes, Baylee inspected the disaster ahead of them. Through the pile of wood, she could see that a good portion of the kitchen area was collapsed in, but the rest of the first floor was in fairly decent condition. "Where did you hide the arrow?" she asked,
"You know those metal bars we had our dried herbs hanging from? The ones by the hearth?" When Baylee nodded, he sighed. "It's the one closest to the wall. But we can't even see it from here."
Still on her tiptoes, the hobbit suddenly drew her sword and used it to start pushing some smaller boards out of the way from a small gap between two fallen beams. "Help me out here, lad," she told him, handing him the blade. "I'm too short."
"What're you trying to do?" he asked, brows furrowed.
"Get those broken boards out of the way. I can fit through that opening, but I need it cleared out a bit." Remembering her time in Mirkwood and how she had just barely fit through the bars without petticoats, she turned her back to the lad before reaching under her dress. She quickly undid the laces to her petticoats, shivering as they fell to the floor, though she tried her best to ignore the cold.
"This is the best I can do," Bain told her when she turned back around.
"You did well," she assured him, giving him a small smile as she took her sword back. Then, hopping up, she started to squeeze her way between the beams. As small as she was, it was still quite a tight fit—nearly as tight as it had been in Mirkwood. 'I've definitely put on a bit of weight in the last two weeks,' she thought, her nose scrunching up as she was forced to suck in her stomach.
Using the beam as leverage, she gave a strong push and squeaked as she went tumbling forward. "I'm fine!" she said before Bain could ask.
She looked around the kitchen area, taking a quick survey of the damage. Most of it was, to her dismay, around the doorway, the counters, and the hearth. Directly in front of the fireplace, however, wasn't too badly damaged—nor was the ceiling directly above it.
'I'm going to have to climb the rubble to get up there,' she thought, spotting the set of iron bars held up by the intact-ceiling beams. There were five total, with three of them having been knocked askew, leaving them to be dangerously close to falling off the beams. 'So one of those is an arrow…? Could have fooled me, so no wonder it's fooled those guards…'
"I see the arrow," she called back to Bain. "I need to do a bit of climbing and moving things around, but I think I can reach it!"
"Please hurry, little mistress," he replied, the desperation in his voice all too evident.
"I'm trying," she assured him, having already started to climb up the pile. Thankfully, it wasn't a challenging climb, and she soon reached the top. What was challenging, however, was trying to reach the arrow. She first knocked down the three bars that were already close to falling, assuring Bain she was alright after they went clattering and clanging to the floor.
Then, leaning over as much as she could without falling, she reached for the next bar; it took a bit more effort to move, as she had to pull it towards her. Being solid iron, too, made it quite heavy and the little hobbit had some difficulty getting it to fall down to the ground. She eventually managed, leaving just the arrow left. Once more, she leaned forward, having to stretch her arm out even farther than before and even having to stand on her tiptoes to add a bit more height.
To her great relief, she was just barely able to wrap her fingers around the arrow.
She pulled it towards her, grunting—it was heavier than she expected, but lighter than the solid iron bars. 'I wasn't expecting it to have so much metal on it,' she thought. 'I hope I'll be able to lift this thing once I get it free!'
When the arrow was closer, she took hold of it with both hands and started trying to work it free. It was a difficult task: Not only was she having to balance on her tiptoes on an unstable bit of wood, but she had to angle the arrow in order to free it, unlike the bars, which she had simply moved a bit to one side to free them. But it was a bit longer than the bars had been, and its metal fletching kept trying to dig into the wood.
"I've almost got it," she called out, knowing Bain was waiting for some sort of update. Though barely a few minutes had passed, it had felt like hours to her; she knew it had to have felt even longer to the lad. "It's—it's a bit difficult. The arrow's quite heavy!"
"That's because it's made of—" He was interrupted by Baylee giving out a victorious little 'Aha!'.
Seconds later, the pile of rubble began to shift and move.
She cried out as she lost her balance and went toppling forward, along with a good portion of the pile. Luckily, she managed to keep her hold on the arrow, though she not-so-luckily landed hard on her side. A yelp left her mouth, not just from the pain filling her shoulder, but also from the sight of an avalanche of wood falling right towards her.
"L-little mistress!" Bain cried, his eyes widening in fear when he heard her cry out. With part of the rubble now out of his way, he could see Baylee laying on the floor near the counters, the arrow clutched to her chest and some boards laying atop her. "Little mistress! Baylee!"
She stirred, a quiet groan leaving her mouth and a sigh of relief leaving Bain's. It took some willpower, but she started to push herself upright, having to use one hand to shove aside a few of the boards that had fallen atop her. Then, using the arrow to help her, she managed to get to her feet.
Looking up, she found that, while at least half of the rubble had rolled off the pile with her, the reason for the sudden shifting was that another part of the ceiling had collapsed. The way she had gotten in was now blocked, but there a larger gap had been opened up, allowing her to climb through on this side. Then, seeing the worry on the lad's face, she gave him a reassuring—albeit pained—smile.
"I'm alright, Bain," she told him, limping her way back over. "Just going to be sore."
"I'm surprised you weren't turned into jelly just now," Bain admitted, taking the arrow as she passed it through to him.
"I feel like I was," she grunted, scurrying her way up and over the rubble. "Now let's get going—we need to get this arrow to your da'." As she spoke, she had snatched up her petticoats and, no longer caring about being decent (she was wearing bloomers, anyway), she unceremoniously pulled them on under her dresses. She tied them into place while following Bain down the stairs—a tricky task, given how wobbly she felt after taking that spill.
Soon enough, the pair were back in the boat, Bain navigating a path through all the debris that now littered the canals while also doing his best to avoid the rivers of fire Smaug was still unleashing on the town. When he wasn't spewing forth fire, the dragon was cackling gleefully at the sheer terror he was instilling.
Watching Smaug fly high into the sky before turning back towards the city, Baylee hugged herself and wondered how something so truly evil could exist. She tore her eyes away from the dragon only to make the mistake of looking down at the water; she gasped in horror and instinctively lurched back when she found the glassed over, unseeing eyes of a young man staring up from just below the surface of the water.
"You got to keep your eyes fixed on the path ahead," Bain told her, knowing what she had seen. He had seen it, too, and it left him feeling both terrified and distressed; the body was that of the butcher's son, one of his friends. "Don't look at the bodies and don't look at Smaug—just look at the belltower." Though he was trying to sound strong and unafraid, Baylee could hear the waver in his voice.
'He shouldn't be going through this,' she thought, biting her lower lip. 'He shouldn't be going through and seeing any of this. None of us should. It isn't right. It isn't right at all.' Her eyes started to sting; she couldn't tell if it was from the tears beginning to fall down her cheeks or from the smoke that was quickly filling the air.
She squeaked in surprise when the boat none-too-gently bumped into the dock by the belltower. Bain sprang to his feet and, grabbing the black arrow, hopped out of the boat.
"Little mistress, it'll be safer if you stay in the boat," he told her. Before she had a chance to argue, he hurried towards the ladder at the base of the tower.
Not that Baylee would have argued; with most of the city on fire and the air becoming clouded by smoke, she would only get herself lost and hurt. Instead of climbing out of the boat, she moved to sit in the middle where Bain had been sitting. She looked at the lad, seeing that he had already climbed about a third of the way up the ladder. Then, spotting Bard through the smoke, she saw him fire his bow as Smaug swept by.
Upon impact with the dragon's chest, the arrow snapped in half.
The combination of the smoke and concentrating on the two humans left Baylee unaware of the long boat that came floating towards her. A moment later, however, she thought she heard voices behind her and turned to see who it was.
But it was too late.
As she had started turning, someone grabbed the back of her dress and hoisted her out of the boat. Right as she tried to cry out, a second hand covered the lower half of her face and she instead started to thrash and struggle against her captor. Just as she was about to bite down on the hand, something hit her upside the head.
And then, everything went black.
A/N: Hello, my lovely readers~ I'm putting this author note at the end because of how dang long it is.
I know this chapter is a week late, but my real life has just been...so damn chaotic. Between losing three family members in just as many months (none of them being Mama Moose, though, thank gods!) and having some pretty bad dental problems (probably sped up by all the stress I've been under), I...haven't really been in the right frame of mind for writing. Drawing, yes, but not writing. Drawing takes little to no brain power.
But it's also led to me having to make a tough decision. Well, a couple of decisions really, with the first being that the upload schedule for all three of my fics is no longer going to be...well, existent. Like I said, a lot of stuff has happened and is going to continue happening that's just been draining me. Secondly, and the bigger of the two decisions, is that there is no longer going to be a sequel to this story. I just don't have the energy to keep up three fanfics, especially when a sequel to Nightmares would involve a shit-ton of worldbuilding, since it was supposed to take place post-Dagor Dagorath and in a reforged/rebuilt Middle Earth with different geography and reincarnated peoples and such.
This does *not* mean I'm going to abandon any of my current fics, though! This story is *maybe* 7-8 chapters away from finishing and, by gods, I'm going to finish it, even if I'm dreading these last chapters.