To Love a Half-Blood (A Kili Fanfic)

Chapter 21: Bard the Bowman

We arrive at the far edge of the smoking town. The crowed gathered here is huge, which is both a blessing and a curse. Everyone is relived to see that at least three quarters of the town has survived. Legolas has already begun to shove his way to the front. However, his stature causes most of the men to step aside. Kili sets me down at the edge of the crowd and the rest of our group scurries after my brother, taking advantage of the gap. I limp as quickly as I can to keep up. Soon, we arrive at the front of the crowd. Huge pillars of steam billow from the lake.

There is no doubt, the dragon is dead.

The crowd is alive with whispers and I strain to listen.

"The Master may be good for business but he's a coward when anything serious happens!" I hear one woman complain to another.

"Exactly! If only Bard the Dragon Shooter had not been killed. We would make him king." The other responds.

Bard killed the dragon? He's dead?

I turn to look at Sigrid and it is evident that she too was listening for her eyes are wide in horror as she murmurs one word, "Killed?"

Perhaps she was still clinging onto some scrap of hope this whole time. Poor girl.

A shout from behind the steam catches my attention.

"Bard is not lost!"

The silhouette of a man stands in the mist for a moment and then steps forward. He is too far away to see his face, but everyone holds their breath, hoping his words are the truth.

The man continues, "He dived from Esgaroth when the dragon was slain"

Another pause.

"I am Bard, of the line of Girion. I am the slayer of the dragon!"

The crowd erupts in a cheer, "King Bard! King Bard!"

His children rush to him. I cannot hear their word for the shouting of the crowd, but the family is beyond happy. Bard catches Sigrid in his arms, spinning her around and setting her down just as his son tackles him in a bone-crushing hug. Tilda, the slowest of the three arrives just as Bard drops to his knees to wrap her up in his arms, hugging her to him tightly. The relief of the four is obvious.

The cheers in Bard's favor continue until another man step beside him. There is a dead silence, nothing can be heard but the wind. It is the Master.

"Girion was lord of Dale not Laketown." He bellows, "Here we have always elected Masters from among the old and the wise. We do not long endure the reign of fighting men. Let "King Bard" go back to his own kingdom-Dale. He has freed it once more and nothing hinders his return. Any that wish to live in the stone ruins in the shadow of the mountain should feel free to follow him. The wise will stay here and rebuild our peaceful town."