"Just one more day 'til your sister's due t' be back."
"Mhm."
"D'you think she managed t' convince Lovisa t' come up here for a bit o' a visit?"
"If anythin', Lovisa's got Baylee tucked under her arm as she comes up here all on her own," Will snorted, his brow rising as he glanced over at his father. His gaze returned to the piece of wood he was whittling away at before he could accidentally trim away too much.
Warren laughed as well, his brow rising. After having been stuck in bed for three weeks, Richard had finally given him permission to get up and wander around—so long as he remained on the property and didn't try to do any sort of heavy lifting. He still had quite a bit of healing to do, after all. "Knowin' Lovisa? That could very well be exactly what's takin' place," he said before taking a drink of his tea. "To be honest, I'm almost surprised that Lovisa isn't up here already, fretting over me. Surely, 'Lee's gone an' told her what happened."
Will shook his head, chuckling. "She knows Uncle Richard would have been takin' good care o' you." Setting one knife down, he picked up another, smaller blade to do a bit of detail work.
"That's true." He took another drink of his tea before turning slightly on his stool, looking out over the room and its occupants. It was mid-afternoon and the Tankard wasn't terribly busy that day, despite having checked in about ten new guests the previous day. Nori sat in his usual place, a mug of ale beside him while he wrote in his journal. Most of the rangers were out on patrol, but Nakara and Girish were at their usual table, looking over some maps of the lands surrounding the city.
"Any idea why Nakara an' Girish are lookin' over those maps?" he asked, turning back around to face his son.
"Hm?" Will looked up from the piece of wood. "Oh, it's because Rán wanted them t' scour the lands for any more potential secret entrances t' the city as well as any potential hidin' places for bandits while he was gone." Setting the wood aside, he sat upright, wincing slightly as his back protested a bit. "They're almost done, too, which surprised me."
His brow rose. "Really? In just a few weeks?" Will nodded. "Huh. Guess Dorwinion rangers are more organized than the rangers of Arnor," he murmured before taking another drink of his tea.
His brows somewhat furrowed, Will looked at him with a bit of confusion. "What was that?"
Warren shook his head as he swallowed the drink. "Nothin'," he said, setting the mug down. "Just talkin' to myself is all." He gave him a reassuring smile before looking at the doors to the kitchen in time to see Adela coming out, a mug of tea in her hand. As she got closer, the two men could see that she looked a bit unwell. "Are you feelin' alright, lass?" he asked, frowning slightly.
"I'm fine—just discovered a new smell I can't handle bein' around for long periods is all," she sighed. As Will stood up to give her his stool, she kissed his cheek in thanks.
"And what smell would that be?" Will questioned. "Hopefully something that isn't used too often in the kitchen…"
"Luckily, it's not," she said, setting her tea down on the counter. "It's the smell o' white wine bein' cooked. Red wine seems t' be fine an' white wine straight from the bottle is alright, but once it hits the heat…" She shook her head, her nose scrunching up slightly. "Not very good, considerin' that tonight's dinner is in a white wine sauce."
Both men gave her a pitying look; Will reached over and gently rubbed her back. "On the good side, Galiene doesn't use white wine t' cook with too much," he offered.
"An' the sensitivity t' smells shouldn't last too long," Warren added, watching her take a drink of tea.
She nodded in agreement. "Both the midwife an' Galiene said by about the fifth month, I should have either gotten used t' it or have gotten over it completely." Sighing softly, she looked down at her stomach before jokingly wagging her finger at it in a scolding fashion. "If you start makin' me sensitive t' the smell o' baked goods, though, we're going t' have a problem, little one," she jokingly reprimanded.
Warren quietly snorted, his brow rising slightly. They had learned just a week ago that Adela was pregnant and, while he had initially been unhappy about the situation—the two weren't married, after all—he had quickly warmed up to the idea of being a grandfather. Because he would be the only grandfather, he knew he would have to shoulder half of the responsibility of making sure the child was properly spoiled, with Adela's mother bearing the other half of the responsibility.
He had, however, made Will and Adela promise that they would be wedded before the child was born.
But as happy as Will was about being a father, it also brought him another thing to stress about. Having earned more money over the last few weeks from selling his wood carvings and being paid for managing the Tankard while Baylee was away, he was now at around four hundred fifty ducats. That left him with another two hundred fifty ducats to earn in just a couple of weeks. And that was on top of what he would need to spend in order to restore the building…
As much as he hated the idea, he was beginning to wonder if he should just breakdown and get a different house.
"At least the little one hasn't given me morning sickness—yet," Adela laughed. "That's what I'm fearin' the most."
Warren cocked his head. "Why's that, lass?" He remembered Éolynna having morning sickness, but it only ever lasted for a few hours and had never been terribly bad.
"Adela absolutely hates throwin' up," Will explained as his love took a drink of tea. "She apparently almost suffocated once because she could barely breathe."
She shuddered at the memory, setting her mug down. "Not t' mention, how much it hurts." As Primrose came over with a platter of tankards and goblets to refill, she offered her cousin a smile. "Havin' a fairly easy day, are you?" she asked her.
Primrose let out a small laugh, nodding. "Thankfully. After the craziness o' yesterday, we needed this break." Picking up one of the tankards, she began to refill it with ale. "Luckily, things should be back t' normal soon enough, since Baylee will be returnin' tomorrow."
"And there's a strong chance she'll be bringin' Lovisa with her, too," Warren said.
"I remember her mentionin' that! I don't remember the last time I got t' see her, so it'll be nice t' catch up with her." A bit of a mischievous smile came to her lips. "Luckily, she won't have to worry about Baylee, Will, Bard, an' me getting ourselves into trouble anymore."
Will let out a hearty laugh. "I don't know about you, Prim, but I know I'll be gettin' an earful once she hears the news about Adela."
Adela dismissively waved her hand, a cheeky smile on her lips. "It won't last long. As soon as the realization hits her that there will be a baby around for her to spoil, she'll be giddier than a wee tyke in Bofur an' Bifur's store," she giggled.
Warren nodded in agreement, just barely managing to not snort into his tea.
It was the wee hours of the morning when Baylee bolted upright, her skin covered in a sheen of sweat and her breathing fast. She looked around with wide eyes, but with the fires having long-since burned down to coals, there wasn't much she could make out in the darkness. Realizing that it had been just another nightmare that had awakened her, she sighed and allowed herself to flop back down on the ground.
'Of course I had to get a nightmare the night before we return to Dale,' she thought, rolling her eyes. Looking up at the sky, she could see thousands upon thousands of stars overhead and, with no moon to outshine them, they glittered like diamonds. 'At least it wasn't too bad of a nightmare this time.'
After a few minutes, she sat up again and reached over to her pack. As she went through it, searching for her waterskin, she could hear a bit of shuffling from nearby and then a silhouette rose up beside her.
"Lady Baylee? Is something wrong?" came the soft voice of Fifika.
"No, everything's fine," she quietly reassured her. "I'm just gettin' a drink o' water is all." Her brow then rose slightly; she had done her best to be quiet, so for the ranger to have heard her was a bit surprising. "I didn't wake you, did I?"
Despite knowing Baylee couldn't see it, Fifika shook her head. "No, my lady. I only just came to bed after being on watch. Hunil has taken over now, along with a few soldiers." There was a brief pause as she let the other woman drink from her flask. "You…were muttering in your sleep, however."
She winced at this information. "Just mutterin'? No screamin'?"
"No, no screaming, my lady. Just incomprehensible mutterings."
A quiet, relived sigh left Baylee's mouth as she put the cork back in her water skin. "So long as I wasn't screamin'," she said.
"Why would you have been screaming?" Her head tilted and she quickly added, "If you do not mind my asking, that is."
"I have a tendency t' have some fairly nasty nightmares," she answered. Grabbing her blanket, she pulled it up to her chin before laying down once more. "They're made all the worse because they're not things my mind's made up—they're almost always actual memories."
She frowned. "I am sorry to hear that. Do…they happen often?"
"Of late, aye, they do. But while we were in Laketown, I was able t' purchase the ingredients for a tea that'll make it so my sleep is dreamless. I'll have t' have my uncle mix it up, though, as he's the one who came up with the recipe."
"Your uncle can brew a tea that will keep you from having dreams?" She sounded surprised by this.
"Aye. He came up with it years ago by complete accident." A soft chuckle left her mouth and she closed her eyes. "He was trying to come up with a tea that would simply help a person fall asleep but, while it does help the drinker nod off, it doesn't do that near as well as it does stoppin' dreams."
"Hm. Perhaps I should let Nakara know this. He sometimes suffers from horrible nightmares, too."
"I suppose I might be willing t' part with some o' the tea once it's made," she said, her tone joking.
As she also laid back down, Fifika let out a quiet laugh of her own. "That is if he would even be willingly to ask for some. He can be rather stubborn and would rather endure the pain—mental or physical—than to ask for help."
"That's just a common trait among males," Baylee snickered. "Even when his arm was freshly gone, papa didn't want t' take much o' the pain medicines uncle tried t' give him. He'd claim the pain was only half as bad as it really was."
"How did your uncle get him to take the medicine, then?"
"Threatened t' roll him over an' give it t' him through a different orifice."
Fifika was just barely able to clap her hand over her mouth to stop herself from snorting loudly and possibly waking up someone. It was an answer she hadn't been expecting to hear, let alone hear from Baylee.
Baylee grinned cheekily, knowing that the answer had been a rather unexpected one. She was about to tell Fifika how it hadn't been the first time Richard had threatened Warren when it came to taking pain medication when she thought she heard something odd.
It sounded like thunder, but at the same time, it didn't quite sound like thunder.
"Fifika, do you hear that?" she asked, all humor gone from her voice now.
The ranger frowned, forcing herself to go silent. In the distance, she, too, could hear thunder. But her ears, being more keen than Baylee's, could also pick up on the faint sounds of snarling and growls.
"I hear thunder…but snarling and growls as well," she stated. Her eyes then widened in realization. "A warg pack."
Baylee's eyes shot open as well. "The raiders!"
In an instant, Fifika was on her feet, shouting out warnings to the travelers and rousing them from sleep. Baylee, though, crawled over to the person sleeping on her right and started to shake them.
"Ori! Ori, wake up!" Then, hopping over him, she did the same to the next person—Fili. "Wake up, you two!"
Ori groaned in protest, pulling his blanket over his head while muttering something about it being too early.
Fili, on the other hand, grunted as he awoke. "Baylee? What's wrong?"
"The raiders—they're comin' for us," she quickly explained.
At that, Ori yelped and bolted upright. "The raiders!?" he cried. Throwing his blanket off, he hurried over to his pack and started to dig around inside it.
"How long do we have?" Fili asked, glancing over at Baylee's silhouette. She had returned to her bedroll to grab her spear.
"I'm not sure. Probably not long, though, given they're on wargs," she answered. Glancing around, she could see the shapes and forms of people getting up from their bedrolls; she could also hear many of the travelers swearing as they started to stumble their way towards the horses. With her spear in hand, she hurried off to find Lovisa.
"I can't believe they would attack us when we're only a few miles from the city," Ori said, pulling out his slingshot. He also brought out a medium-sized and rather heavy pouch; it was filled with metal ammunition for his weapon.
"It makes sense," Fili grumbled, getting onto his knees. He was glad that he had decided to wear his prosthetic to bed that night, even if it had made it difficult to fall asleep. "Attack at night and when we're close t' home so that we're least expecting it. They knew we'd be tired from our journey and from all the extra supplies and goods we've got with us." Shaking his head, he grabbed his baldric and quickly slipped it on.
Soon enough, the whole camp was awake, but they were running out of time. Those who couldn't fight were scrambling to the horses and wagons, haphazardly readying them to leave in order to try and avoid the coming battle.
Those who could fight, however, were doing their best to prepare themselves for battle. Aside from the twenty soldiers and three rangers, there were only ten civilians who knew how to fight.
'Our numbers aren't exactly great,' Baylee thought. She could hear the snarls and barks of the wargs getting ever closer; they were loud enough that she guessed they were around a quarter of a mile away.
Swallowing hard, she looked to her left and to her right; torches had been lit in order to keep the civilians from crushing one another in their rush to leave. The flickering torch light allowed her to see Ori and Fili off to her left while Lovisa was close by her on the right. The half-dwarf had her bow drawn and her eyes were squinted as she looked off into the darkness.
"We're going to get through this," Fili said, breaking the tense silence between the four of them. "Everything I've heard about the raiders from the Mistress of Laketown points to the raiders preferring not to kill the travelers. They'll injure, but there's been very few actual deaths. Their main concern is getting what's in the wagons."
"…Well, that's somewhat reassuring," Ori said, his tone the slightest bit optimistic. "I'd much rather be munched on and spat back out than killed."
The others couldn't help but chuckle at his comment, though there was little humor in the sounds.
"We have less than two minutes!" Rán called out from the end of the line. "Ready yourselves!"
The soldiers darted forward, forming two staggered lines. They planted themselves and their spears on the ground, doing their best to brace for the coming impact. There was a twang from Baylee's side and she knew one of Lovisa's arrows was flying towards their attackers.
Seconds later, there was a pained whine as it hit its mark.
Just after that, two wargs came into view only to trip over an unseen obstacle—a trip wire laid by the rangers when they had made camp. They tumbled forward, crushing their riders under their weight. More wargs came out of the darkness, some of them jumping over their fallen companions.
Baylee swallowed hard. The wargs were the largest she had ever seen—at least twice the size of the Gundabad wargs ridden during the War. Beside her, Lovisa loosed another arrow. This time, she hit one of the riders. By the sound they made, Baylee knew it had to have been an orc.
The soldiers, though braced, were no match for the beasts as they came charging forward. Some spears did pierce the hides of the wargs, but the soldiers were easily knocked aside and into their companions. Other wargs simply jumped over the spears while the rest just went around the lines.
It had quickly become apparent that the travelers were greatly outnumbered.
Try as she might, Baylee couldn't keep track of how many wargs and riders there were, nor was she able to see where the others had gone. As soon as the line of soldiers had broken, everyone scattered to avoid being trampled. She could hear yelling and screaming all around her, along with wicked laughter and the snarling of the wargs, but even though there had been torches lit, it was still hard to see more than a few yards in any given direction.
The only thing that she knew for certain was that she had managed to injure three wargs and kill two of the orcish riders. But how badly she had hurt the beasts, she wasn't sure—she just hoped it was enough to bring them down.
"There she is! With the spear—that's her!"
Baylee's eyes widened and she was suddenly filled with cold fear when the voice filled her ears. Whipping around, she started looking everywhere for the owner of the voice, but she couldn't see him.
A warg suddenly came up on her right, making her cry out in surprise as its massive jaws wrapped around the end of her spear. She tried to pull it free, but with a flick of its head, the beast wrenched the weapon from her hands. Thrown off balance, she fell to the ground while the warg ran off like a dog with a stick.
She pushed herself back onto her feet, ignoring the stinging in her palms and knees. Drawing the dagger from her belt, she started turning in quick circles and glanced around. Now without her main weapon, she had to keep watching for any enemies that may try to approach her while also scanning the area for her friends.
Another warg—this one with a human rider—came barreling towards her and she readied herself to jump out of the way. But before she could, someone grabbed the back of her tunic and easily hoisted her off the ground.
Struggling against their grip, she tried to turn herself in such a way that would let her stab the dagger into the rider's leg. This only gave them the opportunity to snatch her wrist and pull her further up onto the back of the warg. They let go of her tunic, instead wrapping their arm around her torso and grabbing her wrist.
"Let go of me!" she snapped, still struggling despite her arms being pinned. At her side, she attempted to change her grip on her dagger, but the movements of the warg's gait made her fumble the knife and it fell to the ground. "I said let go!"
Her captor didn't reply; they merely forced the wooden spout of a waterskin past her lips. A foul-tasting and thick liquid rushed into her mouth, almost making her gag. She tried to spit it out, but her captor kept the spout pressed into her mouth, pouring more of the liquid in until she had no choice but to take at least a few swallows. Satisfied, they pulled the waterskin away.
She coughed and spat out whatever liquid was left in her mouth. Wheezing, she once more struggled to get free, this time using her legs to push against the warg's side to try and leverage her way off. Her struggles began to pay off; her captor's grip was beginning to fail. As she began to slip down the side of the warg, they tried to get a better hold on her by grabbing onto her belt.
Though the positioning made it awkward, she undid the buckle of her belt. She fell from the raider's grip, hitting the ground hard and rolling a few feet as the warg sped away. She lay there for a few seconds, coughing from both the dust that had been stirred up and the liquid that was still stuck in her throat.
From somewhere in the fray, a strange horn blasted. Around them, the wargs and their riders turned to the east and started to leave the camp.
She pushed herself to her knees only to frown in confusion. Her limbs were beginning to feel heavy, but whether it was from the fall or from the liquid she had been forced to ingest, though, she didn't know. What she did know, however, was that she saw a familiar someone fighting a moderate distance away from her.
"R-Rán!" she called out, trying to be as loud as possible to be heard over the din. "Rán! Over here!"
Spinning around, Rán's eyes widened in shock when he saw her on the ground and without her spear. "Baylee!" He started to run towards her, keeping watch for any approaching enemies.
Both her head and vision swam as Baylee tried to stand up and, after stumbling a few steps, she fell down to her knees. Her second attempt was even less successful, with her not taking more than two steps before collapsing.
Rán tried to make his legs move faster; her stumbling made him worry that she had been badly injured. But even if he could move faster, the fleeing wargs in his path would have slowed him regardless. One riderless warg proved to be a great annoyance, as it kept doubling back to get in his way, keeping him away from the woman.
Seeing a warg slow its pace as it neared Baylee, its human rider leaning over to grab her, he growled. As the warg barreled in front of him, he threw himself forward, diving underneath and tumbling back onto his feet once he was out from under it. In the process, he had managed to draw an arrow, nocking it as he stood.
"Put her down!" he ordered, drawing back the bowstring. Rán could feel panic quickly growing inside him; even without knowing what he looked like, he knew exactly who this man was.
Mannus Stover.
"Or what?" Mannus challenged. He grabbed hold of the back of her tunic, his eyes fixed on Rán's as he started to lift her. "You'll shoot me?" Before Rán could do just that, he brought Baylee against his chest, using her as a living shield.
She groaned, attempting to struggle, but her movements were slow and, as she hit the man's arm with her fist, Rán could see that she was disturbingly weak.
"I know you rangers have good aim," Mannus continued, looking down at his captive, "but if you let loose that arrow of yours, it'll only hit her. An' neither o' us want that, now do we?" He smirked, watching as Rán slowly lowered his bow, pure hatred on his face. "That's a good ranger," he chuckled, brow rising. "You don't have t' worry—I promise I'll take excellent care o' her." Before Rán could say anything, he kicked his heels into the side of the warg, making the beast take off running.
Not caring that he was only on foot, Rán started to chase after them. He fired arrow after arrow at the warg, but his running and the bouncing gait of the beast made aiming difficult. It was the tears that started to fill his eyes and make them sting that made aiming impossible, however.
He couldn't let them get away. He couldn't let Mannus escape with Baylee—not when he had already lost her to Bofur.
But his lungs were soon burning and each breath brought in less air than the last.
His legs gave out and he collapsed to the ground. Ignoring the pain in his limbs and lungs, he tried to crawl forward, gasping for breath. His efforts were in vain, though. His body refused to move from the spot.
Watching as the warg carrying Baylee and Mannus disappeared into the darkness, he slammed a fist into the ground in frustration and shouted out in despair.
"I swear I'll find you," he choked out, letting his forehead rest against his fist. "I swear to the earth, sky, and everything in between, I will find you, Baylee."
A/N: Sorry for disappearing like that. As I said in my other two fanfics, depression and burnout got the better of me. But I'm working on pushing past it now.
Also, like I said in my other two fics: There are rumors floating around that fanfic dot net has been abandoned by its owners. If this is the case, then there is a chance it might just stop existing soon. I've already been noticing a lot of weird things happening with the site, including that I no longer get alerts for comments and private messages. If fanfic dot net disappears, you can find me on AO3 under the same username. Bonus about AO3 is I sometimes post illustrations with the fic chapters~