Prompt:

Imagine Bard's face when he sees the burns you received trying to save some of the younger children in Laketown from Smaug's wrath

The siege was over. Smaug was dead, and your home- Laketown- had been eradicated. Many had died, but more had managed to escape. Some of them, like you, had been caught by the wrath the dragon brought upon the town. Yet none of them had done what you'd done; none were suffering as much as you were.

As soon as you saw the light coming from the doorway of Erebor, you knew they'd be trouble. Looking after Bard's three children (and the Dwarves that hadn't gone to the mountain) you figured out pretty quickly what was going to happen.

You ushered them out of the house, telling Bain and the blonde dwarf what they needed to do, before rushing to your sister's home, to warn her and her young kids. A loud roar in the wind, sent everyone in the town staring towards Erebor; spying the dragon Smaug, everyone panicked and started to run anywhere they could.

As much as you wanted to run, you kept that fear buried down within you, and began helping the others as much as you could. Your neighbours in Laketown had always known you as the kindest person they'd ever met; someone who was willing to help those in need.

Which is what you were doing. The thin tracks between the houses weren't built to hold the amount of people that were running out now, and many people had decided to swim for safety. Others were using the boats, fitting as many as humanly possible upon each one.

You were near the back of the crowds, making sure that nobody was getting left behind; you'd already found eight or nine children hiding the crevasses between the houses, frightened, screaming for their friends and family; reassuring them that they were going to be fine, you picked them up and got them onto the nearest boat, or got an adult to keep an eye on them.

Nearly everyone had escaped Laketown by now, and Smaug was nearly there. You stopped to glance at the Fire Drake, just as he soared into the town, heading down the main street - where you were currently.

His resolve faded entirely, and within seconds the flames engulfed the houses it touched. He got closer and closer, and to avoid him, you had to dive sideways into an alleyway. It was close, but you got away from the fire.

Then you heard the screams from your sisters house; you'd never got there to warn them.

You sprinted there, not even considering that Smaug was about; your sister and her children were the only family you had left.

You got there, and the screams of the two terrified boys inside were heart-wrenching. You shoved the door in, and the boys ran out. Your sister was nowhere to be seen. As the boys fled, you heard their baby sister crying in her cot. Where was your sister? Why had she left her children there to burn?

Regardless of the situation, you raced in and picked up the infant. In your comforting hold, she quietened ever so slightly. Then, just as you turned to leave, the beams above your head began to cave in. The groans of a hastily made home made your breathing speed up, and you knew what was going to happen.

You got out of there, you both did. Miraculously, your niece was unharmed. However, to keep her safe, you had to injure yourself. The burns you suffered were worse than anyone else's; you already had children running away when they noticed them. Nobody seemed to care about your heroic act; they just noticed the burns on your neck, shoulder and arm.

You couldn't face anyone. Not your sister. Not even Bard (who, everyone said, had taken a real liking to you) Heck, you didn't even know if they got out. Hiding away, at the edge of the refugee camp, you noticed that Bard was there. He got out, it was alright.

Pulling the wool blanket tighter around yourself, you prayed silently to Eru, or whatever divine creatures were up there, that nobody else would notice you; it was unlikely, but not impossible. You looked away from everyone, and curled up closer to the oak tree behind you, trying to sleep.

Closing your eyes, you ignored the throbbing pain where the burns were, as you attempted to sleep. Yet no matter what you did, it evaded you. So you stayed as you were.

An hour passed, then two. You could hear some of the children talking to their families about The One who saved them from the fire. You. They were glorifying the tale already?

Bard listened closely, as he heard some of the young children from the now ruined Laketown tell him a "fabulous tale". Sigrid and Bain added in some details as well, but all were consistent in information. You'd saved them; you'd saved the defenceless when they were at such a risk.

Thats when his heart dropped. Where were you? Surely you got out before Smaug-

He was pushed from his thoughts as Tilda came running over, and told him that she'd found you. Pointing Bard in the right direction, he noticed that you were curled up beside a tree a long way away from the campfires, and anyone else who'd managed to get out.

Standing, he trudged through the snow to sit next to you. He watched as you opened your eyes slowly, and shifted your entire body to glance at him.

"Hey." You muttered, a smile graced your lips, before falling. Bard noticed how you seemed uncomfortable in the way that you were sitting, but you didn't shift your position. As he looked at you for a little longer, at your ash-ridden face and tired eyes, he noticed the hints of burns against your neck.

He reached out gently, to move the blanket away from your right side, and as soon as he saw them, he gazed at your face. You'd looked away in shame. In the shame of isolation; nobody wanted to be friends with a disfigured woman, you thought, even Bard wouldn't.

But Bard wasn't concerned about that. In fact, he smiled, when he realised that the stories the children were talking about, were true. And they were about you.

He brushed his hand over the burns on your shoulder, and on your arm. The destroyed arm of your dress was just of a reminder of how stupid you had been not to move - in your opinion anyway. When his hand brushed on the more sensitive burns upon your neck, you flinched slightly; Bard moved his hand away, but moved to sit next to you.

"(Y/N)", what are you doing, sitting all the way out here?" He asked quietly, and you didn't have the heart to look at him.

"They're all scared of me now. Because of them." You replied quietly, moving the blanket back over your shoulder to keep the cold out. "The burns. I'm never going to be able to live normally again, not with them."

Bard gazed at you in wonder. "(Y/N) if there's one thing I know, I know that there's no such thing as an ordinary life." He replied, and you looked at him. He smiled kindly at you, and you managed to muster the will to smile back. "Those burns aren't going to affect the way you live your life. I know that."

"How could you possibly know that?" You whisper, not feeling reassured.

"Because I know. I also, know that they haven't taken anything away from your beauty." You turn your entire body to look at him. When you don't respond, he continues. "I don't think they're hideous, (Y/N), I think they show just how brave you are."

He brushed some of your hair behind your ear, before resting his hand against your cheek. "I feel that the burns that prove your honour and bravery should be shown with pride; not hidden with shame. They will grow on people in time, and they will applaud you for the deeds you did today." With that, he sealed the gap between the two of you.