Eruwen (Part 1 & 2)

The Best Bowman in the Town

"Welcome, welcome, and welcome to the third time, King under the Mountain," the mayor added happily.

A side effect of the whole plan was that I certainly soured my relationship with Bard.

The mayor then invited the whole group inside to eat and drink. I went down and joined in the feast, although I had something to drink first of all, I was not hungry. The dwarves had not had such a feast for a long time, so they took due advantage of it.

I wasn't in the mood for a feast, but I grabbed some of the food before heading to my room, where I headed for Bard's house. I hopped around on the rooftops before I found myself at his door, which I knocked on.

"You!" he spoke, trying to close the door on me, "What do you want?!"

"I'm bringing food," I said, showing a bag full of delicious food.

"Daddy, who is that?" the Bard's younger daughter spoke up, "Is that an elf?"

"I'm Eruwen," I introduced myself and walked in, "at your service. I bring food."

"Why?" wondered the Bard's son.

"I trained your father in archery when he was a child," I replied, "and I owe him an apology."

"May I touch your ears?" asked a little lady, "My name is Tilda."

"This is Bain and my daughter Sigrid."

I put the food on the table and bent down so Tilda could touch my ears.

"How is it possible that you trained your father?" Bain wondered.

"When he was a kid, he was walking in the woods and we ran into each other. Your father isn't the best archer in town for nothing."

"How old are you anyway?"

"Tilda," the Bard spoke up, knowing it wasn't a very elegant or lofty question.

"I don't count it anymore. I've been walking around Middle Earth for a very long time."

"How long? A hundred years? A thousand years?" wondered the Bard's son.

"Almost since the beginning of time. I have been in many battles that are now the stuff of legend, including the battle of the Last Alliance."

"Wow," echoed Tilda, who sat on my lap while I told interesting stories. Both my travels and my encounters with characters who made history.

"What were you doing here anyway?" Sigrid, the Bard's older daughter, wondered.

"Thranduil, King of the Elves, is my younger brother."

"How is that possible?" Bain spoke up.

"I gave up my crown to him."

"Why?"

"Ruling never appealed to me."

The children finally got tired of my story and went to sleep. Bard and I went into the next room so as not to disturb them.

"Thanks, but I still don't understand why you're helping the dwarves."

"I have my reasons," I replied, "I'd like to finally slay the dragon, I promised my brother I'd give him back what's his, and I joined the dwarves to reclaim their homeland. I did not dare to take him on then."

"And now you do?"

"We shall see."

"How is it possible that the dwarves like you?"

"I've saved their lives several times. Besides, they have no idea that Thranduil is my brother."

"That explains a lot."

"If anything, you know what to do."

"Yes, you trained me to do it."

"I'm going with the dwarves to Erebor. I can't promise we won't wake the dragon, but if anything happens, I have my winged horse and I'll help you."
then went back to my room, where Thorin had come to see me during the evening.