There were many who were weak and sick among the survivors of Esgaroth and Bard saw that they were all tended to as best he could, leaving his three children in my care so that he did not have to worry for them so. Tilda held my hand as we walked, perhaps enthralled by the chance to meet a real elf that she had no doubt heard of in stories from her parents ever since she was in the cradle. "Will we really be safe in Dale?" Bain asked me and I frowned in thought, remembering flashing images of battle and a confusing array of snarls, roars and the clashing of metal but was not able to distinguish much more than that.
"I cannot honestly say, Bain, but at least in Dale you will be able to find shelter from the elements." I noted as a drizzle of rain arrived. "Stay close to me now, we are almost there." At my words Tilda drew closer, almost hugging my leg so I gave her hand a comforting squeeze before I reached down and lifted her up and the moment her arms were slung over my shoulders she had drifted into sleep, weary from a sleepless night and a long hour of walking which was yet to be over.
"Is she too heavy for you milady?" Sigrid asked, offering to take Tilda off my hands but I assured her that the child was lighter than my sword so I continued to carry her without hindrance, taking care to step lightly so that I would not disturb her well-earned rest. I noticed Bain eyeing my sword occasionally so with a laugh of mirth I drew it and held the hilt out to him, offering for him to take it and look at it more closely.
"Be careful with the blade as it is deceptively sharp." I guided him as he marvelled at its balanced weight, carefully gliding it through the air as he held the hilt with both hands. "It is Gilestel. In Sindarin it translates as 'Star of Hope'." I told him as Sigrid also leaned closer, admiring the workmanship and beautiful patterns that were wrought into the blade's metal. When they asked me what the inscriptions said I translated it for them, telling them all I knew of elven craftsmanship as the blade was returned to me and I sheathed it cleanly, answering their numerous questions as we walked.
By now I suspected that Bofur and the others would have reached the mountain and as I looked towards it, I could not help but feel it to be cold and distant, almost predatory, like a stoic presence which sent shivers down the spine the moment you turned your back. Soon enough we weary survivors entered the broken and ruined city of Dale and began to set up new camps inside the least dilapidated and safest of buildings, some too weary to seek proper shelter and merely fell asleep in the most sheltered spot they could find. I continued to feel that cold shudder as the ever open eyes of the mountain continued to observe us from afar. I offered to enter the great hall first, passing Tilda as she slept into her father's arms and he placed a loving kiss upon her head. With a pang I thought of Thranduil, memories floating to the surface but I hastily pushed them aside.
The heavy oaken doors groaned and creaked as I pushed them open, looking inside to see a spiralling garden of vines and fallen leaves as I entered, carefully treading as not to make a sound and ensured that it was safe from collapsing so that the others may enter. With Bard I inspected numerous buildings, marking those that were safe and those that were not. It was strange and somewhat disconcerting to walk through the streets of my girlhood, still able to remember places such as the market and even the streets I used to run down when I was very small. Turning around I looked upon the large water fountain where the women would take their washing, hearing and seeing the voices of the past as they shouted their insults upon me, dragging my mother and I away so I quickly closed my eyes and looked away, grimacing. "You look as though you have eaten something bitter." Bard noted to me as he approached, sending others forwards to inspect the stores in one of the greater houses to search for food that had survived. "Bad memory?"
"This is the place where I was born." I told him in a distant voice, eyes lifting to gaze at my surroundings as he looked to me in surprise. "My mother was of the race of Man and this is where she herself was born also. These streets and houses made the city which I lived for the first few years of my life but they no longer exist. I am kinless and without a true place of my own." Reaching out a hand I brushed it over the stone wall of the well, rubbing the dust and dirt through my fingers. "I remember these stones, these same paths, each rooftop and tower, but now it is a mere shadow of a time long since passed. I do not know if this is a good place to settle. Bad things are drawn to this city." I warned him before I turned to leave, making my way back to the great hall however Bard called after me.
"The place where you were born does not make who you are, Lady Asta, nor does it make it a home." Bard told me and I looked back over my shoulder to him, signalling that I was listening. "So long as you have a place to go where people care for you, then is that not enough? My home has been burned to the ground but I still have my children and that is all I could ever ask for. That, to me, is home." I could not help but smile at his words, looking behind me to send him a grateful look. I did not answer for there was no more to be said, he was right. Although I was not born to any land of Elves, there were many who always welcomed me with open arms. Lady Galadriel, Haldir, Lord Elrond, they all said that I was welcome in their homes now and forever. Surely that is enough for me?
However as I found my hand reaching into my breast pocket I withdrew the length of silk that had bound the cut on my palm, silky smooth to the touch and I could not bring myself to let it go or throw it from me. I wanted to keep it, cherish it even though perhaps it was foolish of me to do so. I forget sometimes that in the eyes of other elves I was still so very young, little more than a child and still learning of the world and the emotions that I was able to carry within me. "What you got there then lady?" That odious little man from before questioned and immediately I bundled up the silk and tucked it away to hide it, not wanting to share it with anyone, least of all him. He slithered from the shadows, approaching me with his eyes wandering up and down my body and it made me burst with anger inside. "A token of affection maybe? Must be nice having fine things given to you, waited on hand and foot whilst the rest of us squat in poverty."
"A rat such as you deserves no less than the foulest of cesspits." I responded coldly, watching him carefully as he started to prowl, baring his teeth in an uneven grin.
"Always looking down on others, you elves don't know what it's like for people such as me to live without so much as a penny to his name. After living through such a terrible ordeal such as dragon fire, don't you think maybe you should be doing more to comfort us men?" He suggested however the moment his hand began to reach towards my collar I drew Gilestel and the tip pressed against his neck, making him squeak in fear at the blinding movement that he had been unable to stop.
"If you so much as think to touch me then I shall sever each and every one of your limbs until you are nothing but a head and a torso where you will bleed slowly to death in agony." I swore to him, turning my blade over to flick him aside before then striding past like a growing storm, sheathing my weapon with a ring as I began to help the women secure food and blankets for the children, swearing that if I heard one more word from that odious creature's mouth I would severe his tongue and be done with it.