Life is Precious

AN: Had some writer's block with this particular chapter, especially in the middle, so apologies if the first half is a bit dry. The second half should make up for it, though.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything relating to the Hobbit or Lord of the Rings.

Chapter Nine:

Smaug definitely wasn't pleased to find out he had to carry her father back to their valley near Edoras. He'd been vehemently against the proposition, so she'd had no choice but to force him to do it. The dragon had sulked and growled his displeasure the whole way back, and honestly...she felt bad for having to do this to him. He'd already made a point about being a prideful being, and she had already promised to keep that in mind. Yet here she was disregarding his feelings to get her way.

Once they landed and were safe, she'd make sure to apologize. Smaug probably didn't care for apologies, especially if it was just words, so maybe she'd think up a way to make it up to him. A reward of some sort. Of course, it was difficult to think of what he might want as a reward that was in her means to provide. She couldn't exactly bring him a cow or something if she had no money to buy one. And letting him fly on his own was too risky. The obvious thing would be to bring him some sort of treasure, but her family had no gold or jewels to give. If he were a human, she'd maybe spend the day with him and let her company be his reward, but he clearly didn't like her. He barely even tolerated her when he had to.

Then again, he had made a sort of living cocoon with his body to keep her safe earlier. Though...wanting her safe and liking her company were two different things, she supposed. His behavior was so strange. It was like she was dealing with two different dragons. Sometimes, he was calm, if grumpy and cold, and tolerated her, even admitting that she intrigued him. Other times, however, he was more like the dragon she knew from the stories, vengeful and hot-tempered, covering her with an entire mountain of snow just for throwing a snowball at him. Trying to figure him out was like an exercise in madness.

Nobody spoke on the flight back, so at least that gave her an opportunity to think, not only about the dragon but also about her father. Smaug's reasons for being moody were understandable, but her father was unusually quiet. And clingy. Maybe he was afraid of falling? He'd also just went through a horrible ordeal. There was no telling what he saw or experienced at the hands of the orcs, so she could understand why he was acting so differently. Still, he was back, and that was all that mattered.

It had been one doozy of a trip, for sure. They'd had to fly to the northernmost parts of Rohan, all the way down to the realm of Gondor, and now they were heading back to Edoras. They'd been away for over a full day now, her rations were all gone, and Fulcred was probably worried sick if he was still waiting for them in that valley. That's assuming the cold hadn't driven him back to the city.

Arriving at the valley, the both saw and smelled the campfire within. The firelight made shadows dance upon the shadow walls, and the smell of roasting meat made her mouth water. Whatever meat her family got was almost always in a stew since there was never enough to go around and make a full meal out of. Even then, it was a rarity. Seeing Fulcred sitting by a fire with venison roasting upon the open flame nearly made her weep in happiness, and it had nothing to do with the food. Everyone was safe now! Her father was back, he brother was still here, and no one knew about her and Smaug yet.

All it cost was two other Rohirrim and a small forest burning down, but that seemed a rather small price considering there was a dragon involved. She was sure the guilt for those two soldiers' deaths would hit her in time, but the happiness at having her family in one piece after this ordeal was overriding everything else for now.

"Dad!" Fulcred jumped up from his seat as soon as he saw that she wasn't alone. Holdred jumped down, and though he stumbled, he kept his feet. Father and son were locked in a tight hug in an instant, and she was pulled into it as soon as she was off of Smaug, as well. He hid it well, but both of his children could feel the silent sobs from their father. It was the only time Earyth had seen him cry, but the last few days had been traumatic for all of them. It would be a long time before any of them fully recovered from this.

Rather than walk back to the city immediately, they all took the chance to eat something. Their father, especially, was ravenous, eating more than the both of them combined. They melted snow down for water, too, so it was a good meal, all things considered. Hunting in winter was against the law, but none of them would say anything, and she let Smaug eat the rest of the deer, so there was no evidence left behind. The small gift seemed to sate him a bit, but she could tell he was quickly tiring of their presence.

So, about an hour after they arrived, they left Smaug to his little valley after Earyth made sure to order him to stay put. He huffed and growled in clear displeasure, but he had no choice but to comply.

Since it was best to leave their involvement a secret, Fulcred and Earyth split off to sneak into the city while Holdred approached the main gate. Based on his appearance and how he stumbled through the snow, the guards quickly ran out to help their returned comrade. The two siblings watched the whole thing from the shadows and were relieved to see that no one was treating their father with suspicion.

He'd be sent to the barracks, she knew. There, a healer would make sure he was taken care of until the guard commander or king could speak with him and find out what happened to him and his company. That was where the anxiety stemmed from. If that story wasn't believable, this whole thing could turn ugly. Their father assured them that he'd take care of it, though, and they both had faith in him.

When they finally returned home, their mother was worried sick. Based on the state of the house, she hadn't done any chores around here. The laundry was still dirty, the table was a mess, the pots and pans were all dirty. Earyth would take care of them tomorrow to give her mother a break.

Speaking of whom, Cynewyn was in tears the moment they told her that Holdred was alive and well. She collapsed into Fulcred's arms, the sheer relief hitting her in that moment knocking her unconscious once all the stress and worry melted away.

Time went by. They were all worried for Holdred. They knew he would come home someday soon, but the lingering paranoia that the king would see through the lies never left Earyth. Smaug's words stuck with her, so she knew her father was probably equally as concerned about the possibility.

About two weeks after they returned, her father was able to come home. Earyth and her mother were readying supper when the door opened suddenly. Surprised, they looked to see who had entered and saw Holdred there. He looked exhausted, but he had new clothes, and he was no longer as skinny and malnourished as he was when she found him. "Holdred!" her mother cried in relief. He let out an oof when she latched onto him, but he returned the embrace. "We've been so worried about you!"

"I know..." he said softly, leaning back to kiss his wife deeply. Earyth had to look away in mild embarrassment, but she was secretly glad things seemed like they were back to normal again. Once they broke away, he cupped her cheeks and looked into her eyes. "But I'm safe now, alright?" She nodded, and they hugged again. Once they broke from their second hug, Holdred walked further into the house and took a knee in front of his daughter. He stared at her for several long moments, the sheer love and appreciation in his eyes making her smile. At last, he smiled, too, and brought her into a hug, which she gladly returned. "Thank you for saving me, Earyth." He planted a kiss on her temple and let out a sigh. "It's good to be home again."

"And it's good to have you home," Cynewyn said. "But you look exhausted. Are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine, it's nothing," he quickly assured his wife as he stood again. "Just having some trouble sleeping is all."

Earyth could sympathize with that. Her nightmares about Smaug and Laketown had gone away a while back, but they'd not been fun to deal with when she had them. But that was images conjured up by her bond with Smaug. She'd not experienced those horrors firsthand like her father had with the orcs.

"Well...I'm sure a nice bowl of soup will help with that. It'll be ready in a bit, so why don't you go take a seat and relax." He nodded and went to sit in his chair near the fireplace, sitting back and closing his eyes with a quiet sigh.

Soon enough, he was snoring softly, and mother and daughter were back to fixing dinner. Twenty minutes later, the three were seated around their dinner table. Earyth and her mother began eating at a sedate pace, but Holdred was scarfing the soup down like it was his last meal. When he was done, the two women just stared at him in surprise, and he laughed. "I never thought I'd miss your turnip soup!" Earyth smiled, and Cynewyn huffed in amusement.

Later that night, after they all went to sleep, Earyth was awoken by screams. She startled awake, panicking and looking around frantically for any attackers when she recognized it as her father's screams. Had someone discovered the truth about her connection to the dragon? Were the king's men here to take him away again. "Dad? Mom?"

"Just a nightmare, Earyth," her mother called. She heard her father's muffled 'I'm so sorrys' but thought nothing of it. She went back to sleep shortly after the incident.

The next morning, however, she gasped in shock when she saw her mother's black eye. Her father was sitting in front of the fireplace when she awoke and hadn't moved all morning. Upon hearing her gasp, he just buried his head in his hands, and she understood what happened in an instant.

The nightmares, as it turned out, were a regular occurrence. Each night, Holdred would wake up screaming, sometimes more than once, but there was never another punching incident. However, that was only because he insisted on sleeping on the floor next to the fireplace to prevent that from happening again.

The sleep deprivation was taking a toll on him, though. Several weeks later saw him in a deep depression, the joy and relief at being home having worn off completely by that point. Now, all that was left seemed to be guilt for what he deemed to be a personal failure on his part. How he'd come to that conclusion, no one could guess, but they couldn't convince him otherwise, no matter what they said.

And the constant wakeups were affecting Earyth and Cynewyn, too. With their sleep being constantly interrupted, they weren't getting enough rest, and Holdred's depression was bringing their moods down. Fulcred wasn't around for most of the day, so he didn't get the full brunt of it, but even he could realize something was very wrong.

He wasn't the only one, either. Rumors were starting to circulate through the city. People were wondering what was going on with Holdred even though it was none of their business. Some said he'd been cursed by a witch. Others said he'd run from the battle like a coward and left his comrades to die, and now the guilt was tearing him apart.

It was all lies and assumptions. No one knew the truth, but everyone was speculating and trying to come up with more outrageous explanations than the last. Worst of all, no one even bothered to ask! They could have gotten the truth straight from Holdred, but at this point, no one would probably believe him because of so many different rumors painting him in a bad light!

It drove them all crazy, but of course, Holdred took it the worst. Sometimes, he snapped at their neighbors and told them to mind their own business. Tonight, he'd gone down to the inn for a drink despite Cynewyn urging him not to. "I just need somethin' to relax," he said when he left. "I won't be gone long."

That was three hours ago, and all three of them were worried sick at this point. It was almost dark, and he hadn't returned yet. Fulcred had offered to go down and fetch him earlier, and while Cynewyn had denied him at first, she appeared to be reconsidering. As the sun continued to set, Fulcred stood with a frustrated huff. "I'm going to go find him and make sure he's okay. Maybe he just drank too much and fell asleep."

Their mother nodded quietly, but when Fulcred opened the door, they all heard a commotion outside, and it seemed to be coming this way. "What is that?" Earyth asked her brother, who was looking down the street. The snow was lighter today, so she assumed he could see whatever it was.

Fulcred didn't answer, though another familiar voice did. "Get in the house!" Holdred barged in, pushing Fulcred aside and slamming the door shut. Several impacts came from outside, as if things were being thrown at their door. Angry shouts were coming from out there, too. None of them knew what was going on, but the fact Holdred had barred the door and his hands, clothes, and face were covered in blood spatters suggested it wasn't good.

"What on Earth happened!?" Cynewyn shouted, standing with a horrified gasp at seeing her husband's condition. He wasn't paying any attention to them. Instead, he was going about the house, throwing things in a few sacks he'd gathered from the kitchen. "Holdred!"

He didn't reply directly, but he was mumbling something to himself over and over. It sounded like, "Gotta protect her. Can't let them take her," but it was so quiet and slurred that Earyth couldn't tell for sure.

"Holdred, will you just sit down and explain things," her mother tried, grabbing onto his shoulder.

He spun around, the wild look in his eyes taking them all by surprise. "No time! Gotta leave! Gotta protect her!"

He tried to turn away, but Cynewyn kept her grip on him and prevented it. "Who? Holdred, protect who?"

"Earyth!" he cried. "Gotta protect her!"

"I'm fine, dad!" This whole thing was scaring her, and her concern was through the roof. She'd never seen her father like this before, even when he came home drunk.

He looked at her, but he didn't seem to be seeing her. "She's right there, Holdred. She's fine."

"No!" he shook his head vehemently. "They're coming! They'll take her! Gotta protect her!"

"Who's coming?" Fulcred asked.

No sooner had he asked that that someone banged on the door. "Open up in the name of the King!"

Everyone looked to Holdred as he turned away and, they thought, back to packing, but to their horror, he grabbed his sword. "Go away!" he shouted. "You can't have her!"

"Holdred, you're drunk!" a different voice called. "You caused some trouble tonight, so you have to come out and face the charges! If not, we'll be comin' in to drag you out!" There was a short pause, and when Holdred didn't answer, the man began counting. "Five, four, three...For goodness' sake, man, open up!"

Not a second had passed before someone began kicking the door. "Back window!" Holdred urged them. "We've gotta go!"

"Holdred, what have you done?" Cynewyn snapped.

"Gotta go!" he repeated, more urgently as the first cracks came from the door. Fulcred was still by the door, but he decided to have faith in his father. Earyth, who was by the table a few feet from the door was slower to move, but she'd only taken a single step when the door burst in and armed soldiers entered the house, weapons drawn. She gasped and took several steps back, and Fulcred pulled her behind him.

"Put it down, man!" the more reasonable voice said. He was an older man, about the same age as her father. Undoubtedly, the two knew each other. "Come out peacefully, and no harm will befall you or your family."

"What happened? Why are you after my husband?" their mother demanded.

"He killed three people in a drunken rage!" the first, more callous voice said. He was younger than the other one, though not by much, but he was wearing what Earyth recognized as a captain's armor. From his eyes, Earyth could see he was fueled by hatred and rage. "He's a murderer! Killed my son!" He sneered. "Think I'll return the favor! Come here, boy!"

"What are you—!?" the second soldier began trying to stop his superior, but he was thrown into the wall where he bounced backwards and fell upon the table.

Fulcred and Earyth backed away in terror at the advancing soldier with murder in his eyes. "NO!" In a flash, Holdred was on the attack, swinging his sword at the guard, who just barely managed to block the blow with his own blade before delivering a left hook to Holdred's face.

Her father stumbled back, and the soldier took that moment to glare at him before turning with a roar of fury and plunged his sword straight through the only person within sword range. "Mother!" Fulcred cried as Earyth gasped in horror, tears already brimming in her eyes. Cynewyn slumped, her lifeless body falling to the ground with a thump. The soldier turned to them, and there was no remorse in his gaze. He didn't care that he'd just killed an innocent person, and now he planned on killing them.

A dagger went soaring through the air, and the soldier ducked in time, the blade plunging into the second soldier, who had finally recovered from being bodily throwing onto the table. Holdred charged with a furious battle cry, his sole purpose in life now to kill the one responsible for murdering his wife in cold blood.

The two began trading blows, but Fulcred didn't stay idle. "Come on!" He grabbed Earyth by the hand and pulled her to the back window. He pushed it open, looked around to make sure it was clear, and began to climb out, Earyth right behind him.

"Behind the house!" that monster yelled. "Kill them all!"

She looked back just in time to see more soldiers flooding into their house, blades drawn as they moved to surround their father. She was about to cry out for him, but Fulcred pulled her along as even more soldiers came from around the house. "Don't look back, Earyth!"

"What about father!?" she cried. "We can't leave him behind!"

"Don't look back!" he repeated.

They ran as fast as they could between the houses, trying desperately to break line of sight with the soldiers chasing them. The snow meant they left clear footprints to follow, but they weren't trying to lose their pursuers. Not yet, at least. They were trying to prevent any archers from getting a clear bead on them.

The tears made it hard to see, so she had to rely on Fulcred to lead her to safety. Behind them, the jangle of armor and stampede of boots through the snow was always behind them, never growing closer but neither did they seem to grow farther away. People lined the streets, throwing jeers and insults at them, some even throwing rocks as they passed.

Many missed, though a few did hit her. A particularly nasty bruise was already forming on her shoulder, and there was a small cut on her bare arm. They'd not had the chance to grab any coats or supplies when they escaped.

She recognized where Fulcred was going, at least. Their secret way out was nearby, but she didn't think they could get down the cliff fast enough to dodge the archers. The break in the wall was just ahead, the only thing separating them from it being about thirty yards of open terrain. They crossed it at full speed without looking back to see how close their pursuers were. Fulcred pulled her ahead of him and pushed her forward. "You first! I'll—"

A went thump sounded, and he cut himself off with a pained gasp. She whirled around and saw the arrow sticking out of his back. He leaned heavily against the wall, his breaths coming out in pained wheezes. "Fulcred!"

The first soldier came sprinting at them, sword raised, and her brother pushed her away, turning and throwing a large rock at his face. The soldier stumbled, howling in pain as he fell, his sword thrown from his grasp. Fulcred picked it up and impaled him through the back before slumping against the wall again. His breaths were heavier already, and he turned to her with a look of sadness in his eyes. "Go," he urged her. "Call him. Make him take you away from here."

"But—" she tried to refuse, and he grit his teeth as more soldiers began to arrive.

"Go!" he roared. Fulcred was not a trained fighter, but his love for his sister and desperation to keep her safe drove him into a frenzy as he laid into the guards.

Her tears became heavier as she sobbed at losing the last of her family, but she did as he ordered. Ducking through the wall, her eyes found the mountains, and she screamed, hoping beyond hope that the stories about a dragon's senses weren't mere exaggerations. "HELP ME!"

Miles away, Smaug's eyes snapped open.

AN: And so we come to the end of the Edoras arc. I wonder how Smaug is going to react to the news that Earyth's whole family is now dead. I'm sure there's probably going to be gloating involved.

But this was a tough chapter to write, so if you have any thoughts on it, be sure to let me know.

Until Next Time

AdmiralCole22