CW: Physical Violence
I don't own anything except my OCs
Over dinner the next night I bring up the subject of the dragon. Chiko gets a sour look on her face, while Kalonga glares at the table.
"Do you have an idea on how to defeat it?"
"There's an old family story that says a scale on his chest was loosened and fell out during the last battle," Kalonga says. "But it's just a story. It's probably not true."
"What if it is? Do you have something strong enough to hit a dragon in that spot and hurt it?"
Kalonga and Chiko share a look, and then Chiko disappears into her room and returns with a long metal pole that turns out to be an arrow.
"This is the last black arrow known in existence. It was given to us from our mother, who received it from her father. It was made to pierce dragon hide."
She sets it on the table in front of us, glancing at the door as she does so. Kalonga's gaze darts from the arrow, to his bowl, to the table, and back again.
"That would work," I whisper.
Worry and pity twist in my chest. It must be an awful family legacy to have, knowing that your ancestor died defending his town against a dragon, not knowing if you'll be called upon to do the same.
In Tolkien's story, there wasn't much warning the dragon was coming. Bard killed the dragon with the black arrow, but only at the last minute, after the town was destroyed and its people were clinging to life in boats.
I've changed that now, and I'm sorry it's hurting Chiko and Bard, even if it is the best thing for the townspeople.
Kalonga glances at me and says, "We've always known the dragon would appear. We just didn't know whether it would be in our lifetime. In a way I'm relieved it will be over soon."
I bite my lip and say nothing in reply. His words don't make me feel better at all.
In the morning Chiko and I go back to the community house, where I will work in the kitchens making lunch and dinner, and Chiko will begin to form basic plans for an evacuation with Dolgoon. I make her promise to let me help when I can, and she agrees before she leaves me in the kitchen peeling and mashing turnips and potatoes with several chatty teenagers.
They're nice enough, but as much as I want to talk to them, my own thoughts hold me back. Eventually they give up on engaging me and leave me to myself. It's probably for the best. I can't seem to look at them without imagining panic and terror on the faces, heat searing their skin.
There is no other way, I have to remind myself. I did my job, and now Chiko and Kalonga—Bard—have to do theirs.
Ahmad comes after dinner, and my fellow students and I crowd around him at the two tables in the back of the room. Most of the others are younger than me, but a few appear older. Ahmad has me copy letters on a slate board before moving on, splitting his time between students and answering questions with infinite patience, gently correcting errors when he sees them. One of the older students glows when Ahmad praises her for finally pronouncing a word correctly.
I frown, trying to focus on my paper. What kind of town is this where the very basics of education aren't taught to children? What kind of mayor allows severe hunger to survive? The kind of hunger that makes parents choose to put their children to work rather than in school? I press hard with my charcoal, snapping off bits from the pressure before Ahmad catches my eye and raises an eyebrow.
At the end of the lesson he smiles at everyone as they leave, before he collapses at the table and rubs his eyes.
Dolgoon and Chiko appear to collect the remaining children and put them to bed, and when they're done, they sit with us for a moment of quiet and a cup of herbal tea.
Dolgoon breaks the silence. "We have a hard task ahead of us. I don't know how much we can get done before the dragon comes."
Ahmad chokes on his tea. He thumps his chest while Chiko rubs his back for a few moments before he is able to speak.
"What dragon?" His voice is strained, probably from both the tea and the subject of discussion.
Chiko sighs. "I forgot you didn't know. Aspen says the company of dwarves she was travelling with before coming here are descendants of the Erebor dwarves of old, and are planning to retake the mountain. This means the dragon will be released upon our town."
Ahmad swears furiously under his breath and looks at me, a strange light in his eye. It reminds me of how Dwalin used to look at me. Dislike mixed with distrust. But the look passes, and he launches into a conversation with Dolgoon on the inventory levels at the community houses.
The time passes quickly, and when Chiko and I arrive home it's late.
"We just made it!" she exclaims with relief. At my look of confusion she clarifies, "We made it home before the curfew."
I want to scream. Why is there a curfew?
The rest of the week passes similarly. I help in the kitchen or mend clothes, and at night I learn my letters from Ahmad, who is friendly but reserved. I sink into myself, always thinking about ways I could have done things differently with the quest, or ways to help Dolgoon and Chiko with the evacuation preparations.
I think about the dwarves every day, and whether Tauriel will be able to help them escape. At night I dream of my room in Thranduil's palace, and the king's flashing eyes as a knife is held to Fili's throat. I dream of Elladan and Elrohir, and my family left behind on Earth.
Chiko holds me and whispers comforts in my ear when I cry into the pillows.
The day after my first full week working in the community house, I'm stirring a stew over the fireplace, the iron tripod holding my pot over the flames creaking with each slight movement. The atmosphere in the kitchen is bright and warm, the teenagers laughing and teasing each other mercilessly. Dolgoon, who has come down to make noodles as a treat for someone's birthday, smiles at their antics.
Two of the boys get into a mock fight, jostling and trying to yell over each other. "The guard'll recruit me before you."
"What? With your stick frame? You're only getting in if they need a real live dummy to practice aiming at."
"Well it's better than what you've got. No brains and no speed."
"That's enough," Dolgoon calls. "You're getting too close to the fireplace."
But the boys don't hear her, caught up in their own games. She puts down her dough and moves forward to intercede, but it's too late.
One of the boys falls back into the tripod before correcting his balance and pitching forward into his friends' arms. The tripod legs are knocked off balance, and it squeaks and careens forward, sloshing stew everywhere. I jump sideways and whip my arm out to keep the tripod from falling on me.
I'm not able to move out of the way fast enough, and I yelp as the metal burns my arm and the stew burns my feet. Dolgoon drags me out of the kitchen and yells for Chiko. She hauls me outside and plunges my arm into a barrel of lake water, bringing a small bit of relief.
I take deep breaths, trying to even out my racing heart. Chiko appears next to us. "Are you alright?" she asks.
"I will be. I was just startled."
"Do we still have the burn herbs?" Dolgoon asks.
"I think we used them all," Chiko answers. "We'll have to get a healer."
"We can't afford it!" Dolgoon hisses. "We don't even have an alternate payment."
"I think it's fine to keep soaking it," I try to say, but Chiko waves my words away.
"Bard and I can pay this time." Chiko sends one of the kitchen girls off to fetch a healer, her face tight.
"I'm so sorry Aspen," Dolgoon's voice quavers. "Usually my boys aren't rowdy like that. I should have stepped in sooner."
"You couldn't have known. Accidents happen."
We stay crouched over the barrel of water until a healer arrives. "What's all this now?" she asks. "Burned yourself, did you?"
"Aye, on the cooking spit."
"Well, let me see it," she urges. "Eh, not too bad."
After a short examination, the healer pulls out a small pouch. "Boil these and mash them into a paste. Smear it on your arm and keep it bandaged for a few weeks."
Chiko thanks and pays the healer, then runs off to start boiling the herbs. Dolgoon fetches me a cup of tea and goes to help with clean up. For a few minutes I'm alone, wondering if I can just stay at the house tomorrow. After today I don't think I have the energy to deal with people or chores.
Chiko comes back after the herbs are ready and helps me apply the paste and bandage my arm. I sigh in relief at the cool, tingling sensation.
"You should go home, Aspen," Chiko says. "You need to rest."
I choose not to argue and make my way back to the house, making note of landmarks to help me find my way in the future.
Much to my surprise, Kalonga arrives home only a few minutes after I do. When I ask him about it, he shrugs and says that drills finished early at the citadel, and Mphatso didn't need any help on the barge that night.
Then he peers at me. "What about you?" he asks.
I show him my wrapped arm and say, "Some of the boys were being rowdy in the kitchens, and I got burned."
His eyes widen and a look of sympathy creeps over his face. "Did you call a healer for herbs?"
"I think it would have been alright to soak it, but Chiko insisted. She said y'all could pay for it."
A variety of emotions play across Kalonga's face, finally settling on relief. "It is better to be safe than sorry. And the herbs will last a while."
"If I knew which herbs they were I'd be able to gather them myself," I mutter. "I didn't get a good look."
At my words, a strange gleam enters Kalonga's eyes. "You know how to identify herbs and plants?"
"A few. Not enough to be very useful," I say. Still, Kalonga looks eager.
"Get your spear. We're going ashore."
"Partisan," I correct, but I don't think he hears me in his rush to collect his bow and quiver. Within minutes we are hurrying to the wide walkway that leads to the bridge and the shore. The bridge is long and old, with faded paintings under the steeped roof. The paintings show the town's history, and on one panel is a great dragon sitting on what must be the Lonely Mountain. The panel after that shows a burning city, the sky filled with smoke and arrows. I glance at Kalonga, finding his eyes firmly trained on the shore ahead of us.
Once on shore, Kalonga leads me away from the farms, to a patch of trees standing behind an open field used for target practice.
"What are we doing?" I ask, but he doesn't answer. Instead he leads me further into the trees, until we reach a tree with a thick patch of mint growing rampant around the base.
"This is where Chiko collects our herbs for tea. Are there any you know that we don't?" The hopeful note in his voice pierces my heart. He's not asking for his family.
I easily pick out a few herbs used for cooking, but none of the ones I remember Oin using for healing. I wish I could study the mix Chiko bought, but I won't be able to until tomorrow. Kalonga tries to hide his disappointment with an encouraging smile.
"Perhaps another time," he suggests, even as his shoulders slump.
"Yeah, perhaps." I begin to walk back towards town before he catches my shoulder.
"Thank you for trying at least." Maybe it's something in his eyes, or his face, but I return his smile as something deep within me calms and settles.
After the kitchen incident, Dolgoon assigns me to sewing and knitting duties, as well as sorting through the storage closets. I find so many scraps of twine or fabric I want to throw away, ones that I would deem impossible to use, but Dolgoon instructs me to keep them. "You never know when you'll need something," she says, holding up a piece of string shorter than her pinky finger.
I just sigh and stuff it back in its bag, along with the others. After I go through this closet Dolgoon has me go through others, counting all of the supplies and dry goods we have on hand. Then I move on to our other community houses. When I hand her my final lists, her lips purse.
Kalonga picks up extra shifts at the citadel, and on the weekends the siblings and I head out to the mainland to help pull in the harvest for a few extra coins.
One weekend afternoon, about three weeks after I was burned, I stand up to stretch my sore back and cramping hands. My face burns from being in the sun so long.
That's when I see him, surrounded by four guards and Alfrid.
The master, or mayor, of Laketown.
"Chiko! The master!" I hiss to the woman working beside me.
Her head jerks up, and so does Bard's beside her. He swears. "Of course this is his field. I should have realized."
"Just stay calm," I say, bending back down to grab another cucumber.
For a few minutes, we work in silence, moving down the line and starting another. Too soon, however, Alfrid's voice draws near and stops. I look up to see him across the row, sneering at us with the master by his side.
"Mayor," Kalonga says. "Good to see you."
"And you as well," the mayor says as he inspects our group. His gaze turns to me, and he gives a little hum of interest before walking off.
Only a minute passes before there's a scream a few rows over. I startle, dropping my cucumber on the ground. I start to stand, but Chiko yanks me back down.
"Do you want to be next?" she snaps.
I shrug her off and look in the direction of the scream.
Alfrid has a young woman by the arm, yelling and spitting into her face as she futilely tries to scramble back. The master looks on, peeling an apple.
"Aspen, we can't! We can't risk getting in trouble; we have too many people depending on us. It's awful, but we have to stay down and fight another day," Chiko says. I look at her, and the tears in her eyes bring tears to my own.
I understand her reasoning. Maybe a year ago I would have chosen to do the same thing.
The face of the stable boy from Bree fills my mind.
Be more, a tiny voice whispers in the back of my head, and I take a deep breath.
Inhale. Exhale.
I rush over to the commotion, breaking Alfrid's hold on the woman and inserting myself between them.
"Whatever you think she has done, she does not deserve your treatment of her." I stare him straight in the eye, and draw myself up to my full height.
I imagine Thorin, staring down the stable boy from Bree. The same fear that ran through me then runs through me now.
"Get back, you brat!" Alfrid tries to shove me away, but I stand my ground.
"You do not get to treat her like that."
Guards grab my arms and pin me in place. Alfrid glares at the group. He opens his mouth to say something but the master beats him to it.
"That's quite enough! I'm done with these fools!" He turns away and begins the walk back to the bridge. "Come, Alfrid, I have wasted my time here."
Alfrid gestures to the guards. "Throw them both in the jail!"
He storms away and we're dragged behind him. I throw a glance at the woman to see tears streaming down her face, pleading with the guards that she didn't do anything.
The townspeople veer around us as we pass, keeping their heads down and gazes averted. The master ignores them, muttering to Alfrid about crop failure and stupid Lakemen that think they can be farmers.
The group splits when we reach the city hall. The guards wrangle the two of us into a jail cell on the second floor, the door shutting with a loud clang.
I sit with a huff, trying to get comfortable on the hardwood floor. The woman clings to the bars, pleading to be let out.
"I didn't do anything, I promise. I didn't mean to. It was an accident."
Eventually she gives up and slumps against the door, focusing on me.
"Why did you do it?" she asks.
I study her, not answering right away. "I've been in similar situations," I finally say. "What happened?"
The woman studies me back, and sniffs. "One of the cucumbers I picked was rotting. I dropped it and it split open. The master saw and had Alfrid arrest me for damaging his property."
"Oh," I say, thinking back to the cucumbers I dropped this morning. I pat the space next to me, and the woman comes over, a cautious look in her eyes.
"I suppose now you'll tell the guards I dropped it."
"Why would I do that?"
The woman shrugs. "You'll get a lighter sentence and you won't get a jail fine."
"What's a jail fine?"
The woman looks at me like I'm stupid. "After you're released, that's what you pay for your upkeep while you were in jail."
"But what if you can't pay?"
She shrugs again. "You work it off. You stay in the jail and you work for the jail. My uncle had to do that a few years ago."
"That can't be legal," I mutter, and the woman laughs.
"You must be new in town."
We sit in silence for a few hours, and it must be near dark before a guard deposits a food tray in our cell. "I need Aspen to come with me," he barks.
I follow him out of the cell and down the stairs. Chiko and Bard are waiting near the entrance, and as soon as she sees me, Chiko wraps me in a tight hug.
"Let's go, Aspen. It's time to go home."
I walk out sandwiched between the two, and it's only when we reach home that Chiko and Bard begin to scold me for scaring them.
"It's not that we don't agree with your actions," Chiko emphasizes, "it's just that there are consequences that we have to think about before we can act."
"The last time I tried to protect someone from Alfrid, I was charged with obstruction of justice. I was lucky when my judge dismissed the charges," Bard says.
I stare at the table. "I couldn't just stand there. I couldn't do nothing."
Chiko looks at me sympathetically. "Sometimes standing by is the right choice, even if it is the most difficult one."
My eyes fill with tears again. "Maybe for you. But not for me."
It's not until the next morning I think to ask Chiko how she and Bard released me from jail.
"We had to use part of our mom's emergency store," she says, tugging on a stray loc. When she sees my face, she adds, "Not all of it, but some of it."
"I'm sorry," I say, trying not to cry.
"Why are you sorry? It was our choice to make. Don't be sorry for something you cannot control."
"I'm sorry for the whole situation. I wish none of it had happened in the first place."
Chiko purses her lips, then calls for Bard. When he pokes his head in, Chiko gestures at me and says something in their language. Bard frowns a little but nods, then he says, "We're doing target practice today. If you'd like you can bring your partisan and practice in our clearing."
I give him a shaky nod, and after he leaves Chiko smiles at me. "You need to rest," she says. "You have been working yourself too hard."
"Not as hard as you," I object, but she shakes her head and shoos me out the door after her brother. As we near the bridge, Bard takes a long look at me.
"You should remember something," he finally says.
"What's that?"
"The master is responsible for this town, and what happens in it. Not you."
I look at the sign on the bridge, which I now know reads, "The mayor hopes you'll visit again."
"You're right. He's responsible now, but that's going to change when the dragon comes."
Bard gives me a look that softens to a grin.
"Good," he says.
