Chapter Text
He resurfaced again, gasping for air and coughing his lungs free from any water. He almost sunk back into the black abyss, but he felt underground under him and so moved forward. With great relief he felt the sandy texture of a beach as he collapsed onto the ground.
With shaky breaths his body slowly calmed down and his adrenaline disappeared, making way for a fatigue he can’t afford right now. So with a groan he forced his body up again, ignoring his aching head and his stiff limbs.
Bard looked around disoriented until he realized he was outside of Laketown. He turned around and with despair could only watch as the last buildings of his former home collapsed under the fire and the mass of the dead dragon. Everything he has ever known was gone.
Except
He swiftly turned around and his gaze searched around for his kids. He still had his children and he needed to find them immediately. He panicked when he did not see them among the survivors until he heard a cough beside him.
He looked down and with great relief he saw Bain next to him. He bent down and helped his son up and checked him over, but aside from some bruises and cuts he was fine. Both father and son smiled at each other in relief until they heard a commotion. They looked up to see Alfrid threatening Hilda.
A sudden urge of protectiveness overcame Bard and without thinking of it he went and grabbed Alfrid’s hand tightly and pushed him down. Before any of the Laketowners did more he turned to them and yelled.
“That’s enough! Have you not seen enough blood and death already? We need to find shelter immediately.” He called out.
He heard the shouts of ‘King Bard! King Bard' rang around him and did not understand the sudden desire to hear it more. He shook his head.
“I am not your King or your Leader. You are your own Master. I will not be like him. But I can lead you. So follow me.” he told them and started to walk, feeling calm despite the situation as he felt his children beside him.
He let the people everything that they can get as he felt a pair of eyes on him. He spotted Legolas and a small smile came to his face. He bowed his head and put his hand to his chest to symbolize an Elvish greeting.
Legolas returned the greeting. “I am glad to see you and your family are well.”
Bard nodded. “As I am happy to see you. It will not be long until the news will spread.”
“Indeed. Adar is most likely already preparing.” Legolas pointed out and glanced away. Bard gave a small smile at that. “Most likely." We are on our own without your help now. Especially if the Dwarves did not succeeded….” he trailed off as he saw Legolas face.
“What’s wrong?” He asked to which Legolas only looked towards the north.
“I do not know, but these Orcs that attacked. I will need to investigate it further.” He finally said and with another nod he walked off. Bard looked after him and returned back to help his people.
“Da? What is this?” Tilda suddenly asked him, still clinging to his side. Bard stopped walking and looked down at where she was pointing.
His eyes became wide and he felt himself going pale as a cold shiver went up his spine.
On his right palm was now a tattoo of a dragon.
—---------------------------------------------------
He tried forgetting about the mysterious tattoo as he walked and entered the ruins of Dale. Thankfully he was soon too busy to think of anything but gathering material and running from one person to the other. It was exhausting.
He knew it had been an awful idea to give Alfrid the responsibility to keep watch, but he needed every useful person to treat the wounded or help make makeshift shelters for the old and young.
So he indeed was not surprised that Alfrid fell asleep and missed an entire Elf army at his doorsteps.
With some amount of happiness he realized it indeed was the Woodland Elves. So he walked slowly towards them and carefully walked through the ranks until he came to a stop.
More and more humans joined him as they watched the King of Greenwood arrive with supplies and food. Bard has never been happier seeing him and a grateful smile came upon his face. But he needed to play his part and so he bowed respectfully.
“My Lord Thranduil. We are very grateful to see you.” He greeted the Elf.
Thranduil came to a stop with his majestic Elk and gave Bard a barely there smile before it vanished behind his mask again.
“I heard you needed aid.” He said and dismounted his steed as the Elves started to gather and share the supplies.
Bard turned to the Elvenking with a grateful smile as the Elf approached him. Both kept a respectful distance, but they long ago had learned to communicate via looks.
“I am happy to see you have survived, Dragonslayer.” Thranduil proceeded to say with a slight teasing tone in his voice that made Bard roll his eyes gently.
“Please do not start this. It is bad enough they elected me to be their leader. I do not need even more titles.” He said and motioned for the Elvenking to follow him as the Elves prepared their tents.
Thranduil followed him and walked on Bard’s right side, putting Bard in his blind spot. Bard smiled a bit more at the gesture.
“So have I heard. I was surprised at first too, but you are a born leader with royal blood. So I am not really surprised now that you were chosen.” Thranduil said.
Both waited until the tent stood before walking inside. Bard could not even try to say something as his face got cupped and he got pulled into a kiss. He was shocked for a small moment before he closed his eyes and kissed his lover back. They stayed close even after they separated. Bard hugged the Elf back and felt the other lean his head against his shoulder, mindful of his circlet on his head. He heard a quiet whisper then.
“When I heard the dragon escaped the mountain and went to attack Laketown….I did not know if I would arrive to see nothing but ruins again or….” He did not manage to finish the sentence, but Bard could imagine. He sighed and held the other closer.
“I am ok. The kids and I are alive and well enough. Now we can work on rebuilding and dealing with the Dwarves.” He said quietly back.
Thranduil sighed and separated from Bard. “Dwarves. How I am sick of them.” He grumbled with disgust in his voice. Bard could not blame him. The Dwarves were pretty low on his list of races on Middle Earth too right now.
His mouth twitched as he felt an itch and he looked down at his palm. He quickly covered his hand so Thranduil would not notice the weird tattoo. But the motion did not go unnoticed by the Elf and he turned to Bard with a questioning head tilt. He opened his mouth to say something, but both got interrupted by none other than Gandalf.
That is how they both found themselves sitting in a tent with the irritating wizard. Bard has to admit it was funny seeing Thranduil throw his famous bitch face at Gandalf and Gandalf not taking the hint. He barely concealed a smile on his own. Too late as he looked to Thranduil and saw a betrayed expression in his eyes at not having Bards support in this. Bard shrugged.
Gandalf stopped and turned to the two. He looked between them and both did not like the knowing look and smile on Gandalf's face.
“You of all should know Thranduil that taking risks like that and ignoring my warnings can go very wrong for you.” He warned him and motioned to Bard then, who looked called out. “-or those you care about.”
Thranduil rose from his throne and almost gilded towards Gandalf, facing him with a cold expression on his face.
“I may have endured your senseless talk for so long, Mithrandir. But say anything about my relationship with Bard again and the Dwarves won’t be the only ones to face my wrath. That and any options of peace are off the table.” He hissed at him and walked past him to one of his Guards.
Bard looked after him and his gaze crossed that of Gandalf. He raised a hand before the other could start, ignoring Gandalf’s annoyed look at being interrupted again.
“Do not try to get me to persuade or influence him. I will never do this and go behind his back.” He warned him. But instead of a reply he saw the wizard staring at his hand. Panic gripped him as he realized he was looking at the tattoo.
He quickly lowered his hand and looked away then. It became silent in the tent and
“ But hear me now, oh slayer bold,
As the warmth of my life turns bitterly cold.
My spirit rises, unbound by death,
To weave a curse with my final breath.”
Bard froze as he heard those hauntingly familiar words. In his inner mind the voice of Gandalf and Smaug mixed together. With wide eyes he looked towards Gandalf as the wizard continued.
From your veins, let scales arise,
Glistening under moonlit skies.
Let wings unfurl from your mortal frame,
To taste the heavens from whence you came.
---
Let claws replace your tender hands,
To grip the earth and its shifting sands.
Let fire burn within your core,
To feel the hunger, to seek, to soar.
---
As you sought my end, so shall it be,
A dragon’s form your legacy.
In your heart, my wrath shall gleam,
As you live the fate of a dragon’s dream.
---
Roam now the skies, in solitary flight,
Guardian of night, sentinel of light.
For the slayer’s blade must understand,
The burden carried by draconic hand-
“STOP!” He suddenly yelled out and with panic watched the tattoo starting to glow slowly. He looked up at Gandalf, who also looked shocked and a hint of fear was in his eyes too. Bard quickly grabbed a piece of cloth and wrapped it around his hand before talking again.
“What…what was that?” He demanded to know. Gandalf held his staff tightly and walked towards the human.
“The Dragon Curse. When a dragon dies they can put a curse upon those that killed it.”
Bard swallowed heavily at that. So it had been too good to be true. With a shaky breath he continued.
“What….what does this mean?”
“It means that-” But once again Gandalf got interrupted as Thranduil walked into the tent and sat down on his throne. “So this is the Halfling that stole the keys to my dungeon from under the nose of my guards?” The Elvenking said with an accusing tone as he looked towards the newcomer at the entrance of the tent.
Bard and Gandalf turned towards Bilbo Baggins, who looked really uncomfortable being here. But also determined. Bard still felt too shaken up to really listen to what got exchanged until he saw it.
The Hobbit pulled away the piece of cloth and revealed The Arkenstone. Thranduil gasped at the jewelry and rose again to stare at the beautiful, but dangerous artifact. Gandalf did not look surprised, but worried. Bard stared at the stone, seeing the magnificent colours and listening to its haunting voice calling for him.
He took a step forward and felt Gandalf putting his staff in his way discreetly. He snapped out of it and looked away from the stone to face Bilbo.
“How is this yours to give? Are you not loyal to the Dwarves?” He asked him. As Bilbo explained how he wanted them to have the stone to bargain with Thorin did he look towards Thranduil.
Thranduil took a step away from the stone too to not get tempted and glanced towards Bard. Both gave each other a nod and Thranduil looked towards Bilbo again.
“Very well. We will use it to end this peacefully.” He agreed and Bilbo looked relieved. Gandalf looked relieved too and stepped forward to take the stone, but Bilbo already had grabbed it and held it out to Bard.
Bard stared at the stone and Bilbo then before looking down again. The stone kept calling out for him, sounding like the most beautiful song of a lady combined with the soothing voice of his mother when she sang to him when he had a nightmare as a child. He took the stone in his hand.
Just for a few moments…..
Until Bilbo left the tent.
Until Thranduil ordered him to go and rest. The Elf looked worriedly to him as Bard stood still and frozen, but a Guard called for the King’s attention. Thranduil looked between the Guard and Bard and promised Bard to return as he left quickly.
Once he was gone he got the stone ripped out of his hands by Gandalf, who placed the stone on the table and turned to Bard.
“Bard—Listen to me. You must listen to me.” Gandalf called out to him, but Bard only heard his voice like he was underwater.
He needed to get out. He needed air. He can’t breathe. He started to shakily breathe and ran past Gandalf and out of the tent. It was night by now and Men and Elf both were busy inside of the city so no one was around as Bard ran out of the city. Gandalf kept calling out for him, but he could not stop.
He can’t breathe. HE CAN’T BREATHE.
He needs…..He needs….
Water!
He opened his eyes and looked around, realizing he was right back at the ruins of Laketown. Slowly he turned and stared at the corpse of Smaug, its lifeless eyes boring into his own. With wide eyes he stared at it, but nothing happened. So he tried to take a deep breath and relax.
Until he felt a crack and pain shooting up his spine. With a gasp he fell down to his knees and barely caught himself onto the muddy ground. He opened his mouth, but another crack appeared.
And another.
All he could do was scream as the pain overtook everything.
And that scream turned to something inhumanly.
A Roar
And Smaug’s voice in his mind finishing his speech:
“In fire and ash, my soul shall reside,
In the dragon you become, I shall abide.
A testament to pride’s swift call,
That in death, dragons conquer all.
So let it be written, so let it be done,
In your heart beats a dragon’s sun.”