This chapter is a good bit shorter than what I usually post, but I wanted to get it published, and this is a good transition chapter between Laketown and everything that happens at the Lonely Mountain. I hope y'all enjoy!
It's too quiet in this city. Too empty and too haunted.
We carry our stuff with us, looking for a better place to sleep tonight. The city is worse than I could have ever imagined. The houses have thick walls and small windows, made for withstanding heavy snows and harsh weather, but they're missing doors and roofs. The city walls are scorched and cracking, the towers are crumbled. Debris litters the streets, along with small traces of personal belongings. We find the old citadel, littered with bones and weapons. Fallen bells surround the largest watchtower. The marketplace is utterly destroyed, filled with chunks of rubble, rotting wood, and charred bones. The docks are so rotted they're practically non-existent. Even if Bard and I had been able to sail upriver, there wouldn't have been a place to tie off the boat.
Bard takes everything in with a grim face, his lips pursed and tight.
Slowly, we make our way to the city hall, situated atop a gently sloping hill. Based on the architecture and carvings that remain, this was the lord's residence. We pause at the threshold, looking around the empty room. Like the other houses, the roof is missing. Bard starts to walk the perimeter of the room while I cross the room to a balcony that overlooks the valley, the River Running gleaming like a dusty blue thread in the sun. The view would be lovely if the earth weren't dead and scorched.
"Aspen," Bard calls in a monotone voice. It's the first thing he's said all day.
I find him staring into a side hall, his face flat and empty.
A small skeleton curls around the remains of a crumbling doll, hunched into a corner as if for protection from the dragon's chaos. A fine layer of dust has settled on the skeleton, softening the sharp white of the sun-bleached bones.
My heart cracks in my chest, and I turn away, clenching my jaw. My throat burns. I hurry back to the balcony, slinging down my pack and staring at the mountain looming in the distance, arms wrapped around my body. Bard joins me after a couple minutes, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.
"We will give them a proper burial when we can," he says.
I shake my head. "What we've seen today…" I trail off, shaking my head again while trying to find my voice. My heart burns in my chest. "It's awful. All of it. How is this nightmare of a place going to be any better for people than living in a camp by the Forest River?"
Bard sighs and tucks me a little closer to his body.
"As broken as everything is, there is still more shelter from the elements."
"There won't be enough supplies to go around. All of our work feels like it's been for nothing."
"The winter will be difficult, but don't say our work is for nothing. Someone will survive because of what we did."
We leave our packs at the hall and do a more thorough inspection of the city walls for the rest of the afternoon, noting where it's relatively intact versus completely collapsed. In the morning we'll visit the citadel again and see if there are any salvageable weapons, and check the general conditions of the houses.
We repeat our ritual from last night, scavenging wood from around the hall for our fire and unrolling our sleeping bags side by side.
"Dolgoon said that her ancestors used to use magic right? If there are any magic users now, would they be able to help make the city safer?" I ask, just to break the silence.
"I don't know," Bard says. He looks like he's going to say more, but then he frowns and shuts his mouth. "No watch tonight. We're safe here."
I'm not sure either of us believe that. We burrow down into our sleeping bags, settling close to each other. I try not to think about what I saw today, but it's hard. The death and pain from long ago still lingers, and everything I've seen is permanently burned into my memory.
Neither of us sleep much. When I wake in the morning only my nose is peeking out of my sleeping bag, as if by hiding I'll be safe.
I shift, trying to roll onto my back, but run into Bard. His chest is inches away from my face, and his brow is furrowed, as if he's trying to solve all of the city's problems, even while he's asleep.
I roll back on my side and stretch my arms out with a deep inhale. The air is cold and burns my lungs. The dwarves should be arriving tonight, if they make the same time Bard and I did. But if I think about them now I'll be too nervous to help inspect the houses.
Bard stirs behind me, and I feel his body shift as his arms stretch above his head. When he brings them back down his fingers graze my shoulder and bicep.
"Sorry," he murmurs, before getting up and walking over to his pack.
I follow him eventually, reluctant to give up the warmth of my sleeping bag for the cold morning air. I don't think either of us are particularly looking forward to inspecting the citadel, or the houses, but it's a necessary duty.
We're halfway to the citadel from the hall when I feel Bard's fingertips grazing mine. I take his hand without thinking, needing the comfort it provides.
Bard's hand tightens when we enter the citadel courtyard. Yesterday we just peeked in from the entrance, not wanting to spend a lot of time there when we needed to find another place to sleep for the night. But today we are prepared to take our time, knowing that inspecting this vital piece of Dale's defenses will take a while.
We split up our work, Bard taking the first story while I take the second.
It takes several hours to finish our inspection, and in the end we don't have much to show it. We find tons of weapons, but the rust goes so deep we won't be able to salvage them. The leather armor is crumbled to bits, and the bows are either broken in half or piles of ash. Like many other places in the city, the walls are scorched black from fire.
Then there are the skeletons. We find them in every room and hallway. Some look like they were cooked in their armor. Many times throughout the day I have to close my eyes to block out my surroundings, waiting for the sick feeling in my stomach to subside.
The houses we inspect are much the same. We find rotted furniture, ash-covered pots and pans, and tarnished jewelry. Occasionally we find bones and skeletons, but not as many as we did in the citadel.
Bard and I stay close together as we work. I get glimpses of his face, and the grim look that he wore in Laketown is spread across his features.
"Let's go back to the hall," I suggest when we find yet another child's toy, somehow still intact after all these years.
Bard says nothing on the way back, slipping his hand into mine like it's second nature. But when we reach the hall he heads to the balcony, and something tells me not to follow.
Instead I go through my pack, packing and repacking everything twice before I go to the market. There's nothing here to salvage, but it could at least be helpful to start planning where everyone could stay. It would be best to have everyone as close to the hall as possible, in the houses that are safest. The citadel might also be a good place to house some refugees, if we can get the barracks cleared. The only problem is that it's not close to the hall, which will likely be the safest place to shelter in the battle that will come after the dwarves reclaim the mountain.
The marketplace might be good for organizing people, or food. Food storage is a different problem. I make a mental note to tell Bard to put Chiko and Dolgoon in charge of the organization. The other workers at Dolgoon's community houses can help too. And Bard has likely already thought of this, but we have plenty of medium-size chunks of rubble that can be used in the defense of the city.
The first thing we should do though, is find a way to defend the gates and gaps in the walls. We can't protect anything while the city sits wide open for anyone to enter.
I head back to the hall when it gets dark, mind swirling with ideas for the future. Bard looks up from the fire when I enter, seemingly collected and calm.
I plop down beside him and hold my hands to the flames. "You alright?"
"Aye, better than I was. Thank you."
Bard looks up at the dark clouds covering the sky. "It's late. Are you sure the dwarves are coming tonight? Perhaps they will stop for the night and come tomorrow morning?"
I shake my head. "They're coming tonight. They see well in the dark, so that won't even slow them down."
Bard nods, lost in thought again, so I pull some dinner together, dried fish and roasted potatoes. We eat in silence, waiting for the dwarves to arrive.
One hour later, and the dwarves still have not appeared. The fire is almost completely out, and I've almost dozed off on Bard's shoulder, when a call comes from the city.
Bard and I both jolt upright, staring in the direction of the call. Then we're on our feet hurrying to the door, eyes straining for signs of movement.
Then the voice comes again from what sounds like the bottom of the hill. "Hello to Aspen and Kalonga! We are the dwarves of the Blue Mountains! Aspen said to meet you here!"
"That sounds like Kili!" I exclaim, my eyes wide and a huge grin spreading across my face.
"Come forward and show yourselves!" Bard replies, his voice tight.
We hear quick footsteps, and less than a minute later, shapes emerge from the darkness, cast in shadows and lit only by our small fire.
I meet the eyes of Kili and Fili, quickly followed by Bombur, Bofur, Bifur, Ori, Nori, Dori, Gloin, Balin, and Dwalin.
"Identify yourself," Bard says, eyes intent on Fili and palming a dagger that I hadn't noticed before.
"I am Fili, son of Dis, nephew of Thorin Oakenshield, come to claim Erebor in the Lonely Mountain from the dragon Smaug." His gaze is pinned on me, and only when Bard shifts beside me do I look away.
"It's them," I confirm, and Bard instantly relaxes.
"We have been expecting you," he says, stretching his arm toward our fire. "Please come and make yourselves comfortable.
The slight tension in the air dissipates, and the dwarves instantly crowd around. Bombur reaches me first, and our hug is long and tight.
"I missed you," I get out through tears forming in my eyes. "Aye lass, I missed you too," he says. When we separate I exchange smiles and hugs with the rest of the company, glimpsing Bard and Fili and Kili immersed in their own conversation.
The dwarves start to settle in, setting down packs, pulling out food, and rolling out sleeping bags. Gloin takes one look at our fire and starts scavenging for more wood to build it up.
"We know it's late," a voice at my shoulder says, making me jump. "But we haven't eaten, and it would be better to talk on fuller stomachs."
"Aye, it always is," I say, turning to Bard, Fili and Kili, who have finished their exchange. Fili and Kili simultaneously pull me into their arms, their embrace strong and comforting.
I smile at Bard, whose answering smile seems both melancholy and joyful.
"Come," he says, leading Fili and Kili to the fire. "We have a lot to talk about."
