All the Waters of Rhûn

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Tauriel and Kili.

Oh, Aulë.

They were still in Laketown when Smaug left the mountain. Unsuspecting in their sleep, far from knowing that they would never wake to see the light of day.

But maybe Esgaroth is not where Smaug is headed at all. Maybe he has an entirely different destination in mind. Maybe--

When the dragon's fire lights up the night, my scream cuts through the air. Around us, the ravens take off, startled at my outburst, and even Bilbo seems shocked that such pain could live inside me.

I look away from the inferno. I couldn't bear to look at it for even another second. Yet even with my eyes closed, I imagine how, again and again, Smaug must be unleashing his wrath, his flames raining down on Laketown like they were the remnants of Gandalf's fireworks.

The other dwarves comfort each other, looking on with dread as the flames surely consume Laketown before their very eyes.

There is nothing any of us can do.

The worst part is seeing Fili fight back the hands of Nori and Gloin as the two try to hold him down. His haunting howls reverberate against the mountainside. He cries out for his brother. There is no response.

It's not hard to imagine that Tauriel has awoken by now. In her kind heart, she would not hesitate before running into the rooms of Bard's daughters, warning them so they might have a chance to flee the fire. And if they didn't, if the burning house locked them inside of it to meet their fate there, she would hold them until the very end.

And there is nothing we can do to stop it.

Nothing we can do to help.

Nothing...

"Thorin," I faintly hear Bilbo's voice call out. "Thorin, she's--"

I put my hand to my chest, feeling the hyperventilation move it up and down, but there is not a thing I can do to put an end to it. The stars start spinning before me. I have to hold onto something to not lose balance as the night caves in on me.

In an instant, Thorin's hands are on me, begging me to breathe, to sit down, to put my head between my knees.

I shrug him off of me, though my reality is delayed a couple of seconds, and he seems blurry.

There is nothing I can do to put out the fire.

All the waters of Rhûn could not suffocate the flames.

"Thorin, she is going to pass out."

But I do not pass out.

I throw up.

Throw up what little remained in my stomach from the last time I hunted. I cannot remember how long ago that was. All I know is that Esgaroth is burning, and its inferno will take Tauriel away from me.

"We-- we have to get her away."

Besides Bilbo's plea, nothing else registers. I close my eyes and keep them shut, hoping it might tune out the picture of a town engulfed in flames. But it doesn't go away. It seems the thought of it has been burned into my eyelids.

Something hard against my chest. The smell of cedar wood and home.

Thorin lifts me into his arms, and though I fight it at first, I have little power left to resist with. I surrender, burying my face in his neck. He holds me tight, like he was afraid to ever let go. I sob, I think. I don't know.

I don't know how long he carries me for. Let alone where to.

My breathing has calmed by the time he finally stops moving. Gently, he lowers me onto something cold. I roll over on my side, my golden hair spread everywhere around the rock beneath me as I curl up.

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