Bab 95: Chapter 95: After the battle

[General POV]

-Aldril-

"Aldril! Where are you? Can you hear me?" Bard's desperate voice echoed clearly, even though I was now at the bottom of the lake. The swirling energy within me had ceased. I couldn't comprehend why Smaug's blood had flowed toward me like a spring.

I felt it seep into every pore of my body, flooding me with unbearable pain, eased only by the blessing of Vala Varda.

Now that sensation had turned into strength. For some reason, I felt complete calm, like nirvana, nothing could disturb me at this moment. I felt indifferent to everything. The dark lake had become much clearer. Something had changed within me; I could feel it.

But now wasn't the time to question what had happened to me. I had to get out of the depths. Smaug's dried corpse wasn't my priority for now. What could I do without my storage ring? Besides, the scales were still intact, and I doubted there were any fish in this tranquil lake capable of devouring scales tougher than diamonds.

There would be no issue if some brave soul ventured for the corpse; it was in the deepest part of the lake. For a normal person, it would take hours to reach this depth. For me, it would only take a few minutes, maybe even seconds with this newfound strength.

Like a torpedo, I shot upward, ascending at an incredible speed. Even I was surprised by it. I hadn't had time to check my attributes; there would be time for that later.

"ALDRIL!" Bard shouted even louder. The fog created by the steam was starting to clear, making everything more visible. "AL..." He fell silent for a moment, taking in the heart-wrenching sight before him. The once-vast city now lay in ruins. With anguish, he noticed many floating bodies, women, men, and... children.... They had defeated Smaug, but at what cost?

With clenched fists, he swore that those damned, filthy dwarves would pay. They had been warned and still ignored the danger. Yet he knew the citizens were partly to blame too.

He hadn't been the only one to warn them of the danger. Both the princess and prince of Mirkwood had warned them as well. And yet, what did they do? They chose to believe the dwarves over the elves, who were said to never lie.

"Plop"

The soft sound of movement in the water pulled him from his thoughts. Turning, he saw the person he had been searching for.

Aldril's head emerged from the water. However, something caught his attention: the wound he had seen on Aldril's head was nowhere to be found. It was as if this man had only taken a quick dip. Only his tired eyes and faint burn marks were signs of the earlier battle.

"Here I am," Aldril said in a rough, tired voice. He may have had immense energy surging within him, but the mental strain had taken its toll despite his high mental attributes. He was still a young man by elven standards, so it was normal for him to lack their strong mental resilience. Yes, Aldril could increase his attributes without points, but the process would be slow.

With a sigh of relief, Bard scanned his surroundings, choosing to avoid looking at the bodies. The charred wood creaked beneath his steps. Then he spotted what he needed, a boat! It was a miracle it seemed intact after everything that had happened.

Leaping onto it, he rowed toward the lazy Aldril, who was lying on his back, wanting to rest for a few moments. His indifferent attitude had made him consciously ignore the dead around him. It wasn't until the gentle ripples caused by the boat snapped him out of his trance.

His view was blocked by a hand. "Come on, grab my hand," Bard said. "I'll help you up." I didn't hesitate and immediately took his hand, though I didn't need much help getting into the boat. Once I lay down in the boat, Bard turned his gaze.

"I'll take a look around," he said with a serious expression. "I'll be looking for survivors." I nodded, waving my hand. "Do whatever you want... I'll be resting a bit," I said, lying down to ease the headache that had suddenly come on.

"Just let me know if you need anything." With that, I closed my eyes and fell asleep instantly, utterly drained from the battle.

Aldril's attitude didn't offend Bard. Who wouldn't be exhausted after facing the dragon? Especially after that fiery descent. He still wondered how Aldril had survived. Was he even human? He didn't know, and now wasn't the time to ask. He had to focus on finding possible survivors, so he quickly began shouting:

"Does anyone need help?!"

---

The soft glow of the morning sun illuminated the faces of the survivors of Smaug's massacre. Yes, massacre, what other term could describe the loss of so many lives? Now, they didn't know what to do. Their homes had been destroyed by the dragon's relentless wrath. From this distance, they watched with renewed hope as the dragon fell. They didn't know who the brave soul fighting the beast was, but one thing they knew for sure: "If that man survives, we will witness the birth of a legend."

That thought rippled like a domino effect, becoming a collective sentiment among them.

The survivors sailed calmly toward the shores near Mirkwood. From above, Thranduil watched the small black dots gathering toward the coast. "Prepare the soldiers. Help these people," he ordered before pausing. "And get ready to depart for Erebor." He didn't need to look to the side; there was always an elf at his side to relay his orders. With a slight bow, the messenger turned and left to deliver the king's command.

"Thorin Oakenshield will not honor the agreement," said Thalwen beside him. Her calm demeanor betrayed the emotions stirring within her, for she had just witnessed the birth of a legend. That child would no longer be known as 'the son of Tindómiel.' No, the boy had left his mark on Middle-earth. It wouldn't be long before songs and tales of his battle spread among the free peoples: "Aldril, the Dragon Slayer." A worthy title.

"Then why do you still keep that dwarf's body?" Thranduil asked, to which Thalwen gave a faint smile.

"Because I keep my word," she replied. "Until the dwarves deliver the promised share of gold, I will hold onto this body." She knew they would fulfill the agreement sooner or later. After all, it was clear this dwarf had been very important to them.

----

On the shore, many families, widows, and orphans wept, some for surviving, others for their lost belongings, and many for the loved ones they had lost. But they had reason to be grateful, even if now was not the time. At least three-quarters of those who stayed behind survived.

The others, who had fled to the elven kingdom earlier, offered a small relief to those who had decided to stay, just in case the dwarves brought the gold. They had prioritized their families over gold, which was why only most of the men in those families had remained.

In the crowd, an elderly man cried out with joy: "I saw it! I saw it! That man with the dwarves was the one fighting the dragon! He and Bard took down the beast!" This old man was one of the few who had witnessed the battle, as he had been in the last group to arrive by boat.

"Yes!" a woman shouted. "I saw it too!" she said through sobs. "It's a shame we don't know if they both perished with the dragon."

The crowd quickly gathered around those proclaiming to have seen the scene, paying such close attention that they didn't notice when a hunchbacked man with an orc-like face crawled out of the lake. Alfrid, exhausted from swimming after being abandoned by the governor, collapsed onto the shore.

"What do I do now?" he muttered. The governor was likely dead, and if he had survived, it was probable the survivors would hang him for abandoning them. Yes, many of these survivors had witnessed the governor kicking and killing those who tried to board his boat.

However, nothing happened for several minutes, so Alfrid remained lying there. It wasn't until a thunderous commotion broke out that he quickly stood to see what was happening.

That's when he saw them: Bard and the man who had humiliated him, descending like the heroes of Lake-Town. In that moment, an idea crossed his mind, and with a troll-like grin, he ran in their direction.

-Bard and Aldril-

It didn't take long for the two to reach the survivors. Unfortunately, they hadn't found anyone else alive in the city, so Bard quickly rowed toward the shore. They didn't take long to arrive, as at some point, Aldril stood up and used his immense strength to propel the boat faster.

Their arrival was far from quiet. A survivor spotted them and shouted loudly, "They're alive! The Dragon Slayers are alive!" That exclamation filled the grieving hearts of the survivors with joy. They had no leader to follow, and now, knowing that Bard, a man who cared for them and fought valiantly against the dragon, was alive, cries began to rise among the crowd: "Let's make him the new leader!" Voices calling to make Bard the new governor began spreading among the survivors.

On the shore, Aldril and Bard disembarked. The fatigue hit Bard like a brick wall. With the adrenaline fading from his system, he nearly collapsed, but there was no problem as Aldril supported him, draping Bard's arm over his shoulder.

"Come on, I've got you," Aldril said as they walked to the shore.

"Long live our heroes!"

"Dragon Slayers!"

"Heroes!"

"Bard! Bard!"

The shouts of the crowd welcomed them like a wave, though the scene felt uncomfortable for both Bard and Aldril. Neither of them was used to receiving such praise, especially in a moment so filled with emotions. For Bard, however, it brought some relief, there were many survivors. The hours Aldril had spent fighting Smaug had given the townspeople invaluable time to escape.

He wasn't in a rush to look around. He knew his children were safe in the elven kingdom, but now his thoughts were weighed down by pressing questions: Where would they live? What would they do next? Lost in these thoughts, a familiar voice suddenly broke through the noise.

He lifted his head and scanned his surroundings until his eyes locked on a sight that brought tears to his own. His children were there, running toward him with tears streaming down their faces. Relief and joy filled his heart.

With a radiant smile, Bard freed himself from Aldril's supporting arm and walked forward to meet them. His children rushed into his arms, embracing him tightly, crying out of happiness. Their father was alive, and with that, the fear that had haunted them since the tragedy finally dissipated.

Aldril watched the heartwarming scene, a soft smile spreading across his face. It brought him peace to know so many had survived. As he quietly observed, his eyes suddenly caught a flash of red moving quickly through the crowd.

He instinctively focused his gaze and saw the figure heading straight for him with purpose. Before he could react, he felt a warm embrace envelop him. Surprised, he opened his eyes wide as the realization hit him.

Tauriel.

"You've returned, just as you promised," she murmured with a trembling voice, clinging to him tightly. Her arms wrapped around him as if she feared he might disappear. The sight of Aldril in his tattered state had struck her heart with a deep sorrow. Without hesitation, she had run toward him as soon as she saw him step off the boat. Now, in his arms, she finally felt a sense of peace.

"Yes," Aldril replied, his voice firm yet soft, as he returned the embrace with equal warmth. "As I promised, I have returned, my dear Tauriel.

***

Happy New Year you filthy orcs!

I clarify, in this chapter Aldril's relaxation hides his draconic eyes, besides his imposing presence is attenuated by the same. In battle is when his aura and eyes will change.

I explain this to avoid confusion

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