-General-
"Ugh… I think I should wear a hood in situations like this," Aldril muttered, placing a hand over his chest.
Part of his outfit was disheveled, his hair tousled, and a few lipstick marks on his cheek spoke for themselves about all he'd just been through. Though he was surprised lipstick had already been invented in these times.
"Thank you," he said, turning to the guards who had rescued him from that situation. Not that he couldn't get out on his own, of course. The problem was that he was too kind to firmly reject those who greeted him so warmly—especially the children, who spared no effort in trying to make him laugh.
"It's our duty, sir," one of the guards replied with a stoic face. However, he stepped forward, and his solemn demeanor suddenly shifted to one of clear emotion.
"If you don't mind… would you take this with you?" He then pulled out a scroll, which held a rudimentary drawing: it depicted Aldril slaying Smaug.
Aldril accepted it with a radiant smile. The drawing was simple, made with stick figures. Smaug was barely recognizable, except for the detail that the figure was flying and breathing fire, while another figure—also a stick figure—raised a sword heroically to face the dragon.
"My son made it," the guard said softly. "You're his hero, sir." Nodding with an even wider smile, Aldril pulled out a quill with ink from his storage ring. Why did he carry it? Even he didn't know. He had stuffed so many things into that ring "just in case"... In the past, it could barely hold Smaug's scales and a few other belongings, but now, with his increased strength and mindset, the space had expanded. He could store two full Smaugs in there if he wanted.
"What's your son's name?" Aldril asked, the tip of the quill barely touching the drawing.
"Huh?" The guard was confused for a moment. "His name is Aldrus," he finally said, a bit sheepishly.
And who wouldn't be? The child's name was clearly inspired by Aldril's. But far from being uncomfortable, Aldril let out a genuine laugh and shook his head gently as he began writing on the drawing.
With elegant yet simple handwriting, he inscribed the following words in a corner of the scroll:
"To Aldrus, a brave boy with great talent for drawing.
I'll be waiting to see your works travel all across Middle-earth.
—Aldril"
Then he carefully blew on the ink to dry it, gave the drawing one last look—which now, with that dedication, would be a coveted item for any admirer—and returned it to the guard along with a tooth from a lesser sea dragon.
"I'll cherish your son's gesture, but I think it will be safer with him along with… this tooth," he said, as the guard received the drawing back in disbelief and amazement.
"Also, that tooth is from a sea dragon. Tell your son it's my gift to him."
Aldril didn't wait for the guard's reply; he doubted the man could give one so quickly, as he was clearly stunned. Not only had he gotten the signature of the legendary dragon hunter, but he had also received the tooth of a sea dragon!
A damn sea dragon!
The guard's hands trembled as he carefully held his son's drawing and the tooth. With stiff movements, he turned to the other guard, who was frowning at him with a hint of jealousy in his eyes.
"Can you cover my shift? I need to take this home," he said without waiting for a reply—and just like that, he left the town hall as if someone were chasing him.
...
Aldril walked through the wide halls of the town hall, politely greeting the servants who kept everything clean and in order. A kind young woman guided him to the room where Bard now managed the affairs of the valley.
It wasn't until he stepped into a chamber filled with books, with stacks of parchment piled atop the desk, that he caught sight of his old comrade-in-arms.
Bard was no longer the energetic man he had once been. Time had begun to take its toll: faint wrinkles crept across his face, and his back no longer stood as straight as before. For a brief moment, Aldril's smile faltered.
This, without a doubt, was the hardest part of living a long life,
watching your friends, your family... and those you love grow old.
Thankfully, his family—at least on his mother's side—belonged to a race untouched by time. Even his beloved Tauriel, being an elf, had no need to worry about aging.
Aldril, however, was not yet one of the immortals. But something deep inside told him that soon he would be forced to choose his path:
Would he embrace his mortal side… or welcome a life that time could never touch?
His arrival interrupted Bard's reading, but far from being annoyed, the King of the Valley was overjoyed by Aldril's presence.
He rose at once and embraced him tightly, a gesture of comradeship, for they were comrades in arms in the fight against Smaug and in the battle of the five armies. Then, with a broad smile, she offered him a glass of wine, which Aldril gladly accepted.
They sat and talked, exchanging stories from past years. Bard, in particular, showed great interest in the adventures of his old friend.
At one point, with a cautious tone, Bard asked if Aldril had heard any news of his daughter, Sigrid.
Sadly, Aldril had no idea where she might be.
"A year ago, when I visited my dear friend Bilbo," Aldril said after sipping his wine, "he mentioned that Legolas and your daughter passed through Hobbiton. They stayed at his home for a few days."
Bard leaned back in his chair and exhaled a sigh of relief.
"Well… that's something," he muttered. "Can you believe it? Not a single letter in a year. If not for what you just told me, I'd have thought she was dead."
Aldril chuckled softly and took another sip from his cup.
"I hope that when I have children, I won't have to go through the same."
"I hope not," Bard said with a smile. "Being a parent is hard."
"And even more so when they become teenagers, overwhelmed by love… doing foolish things," Bard muttered, shaking his head in exasperation.
With a tired gaze, he looked up and met Aldril's eyes.
"My little Tilda—she's sixteen now—fell in love with a bard. Ha! Ironic, isn't it?" he said with a bitter laugh. "If not for the guards, she would have run off with that man… and from what I discovered, he wasn't exactly trustworthy."
He placed a hand over his chest, visibly affected.
"And now, after everything, my daughter won't even speak to me."
Aldril let out a dry laugh.
"For someone who fought beside me against Smaug, it's hilarious you can't handle the moods of a teenage girl."
"Don't remind me," Bard muttered, rubbing his forehead.
Shaking his head with an amused smile, Aldril rose from his chair and adjusted his clothes.
"Before I leave, may I speak with your daughter?" he asked, noting how Bard's eyes lit up instantly.
The king nodded, his smile growing.
"I'd be grateful. She's admired you since she was a child," he said with a sigh of tenderness. "Whenever she hears a song or story about you, she jumps with excitement."
With a small smile, Aldril offered Bard a firm handshake.
"I'll make time for us to talk again soon, Bard. But for now, I must hurry to Erebor."
"Erebor?" Bard echoed, raising an eyebrow. "Did Thorin call for you? What for?"
Aldril touched his chin, hesitating for a moment. But seeing no reason to hide the truth, he simply shrugged.
"Apparently, Thorin wants to reclaim Moria."
***
"[email protected]/Mrnevercry"