-General-
The natural melody of the birds chirping contrasted with the bustle of the valley. The murmur of the river as it passed danced with the laughter of the children fishing, while the clatter of horses' hooves on the cobblestones, joined by the songs sung by dwarves and men, reflected the prosperity in which they lived. How prosperous the valley was in those years! Its former glory had returned after the sacrifice of those brave souls who had defended their lands ten years ago.
All of this was being observed by Aldril, who, cloaked with a hood—lest he be recognized again—walked calmly toward the exit. Carts full of supplies and food passed by him.
His gaze slid from side to side, attentive to the daily lives of the citizens. One scene in particular caught his eye: a young couple, holding hands, laughed as they shopped at nearby stalls. That image reminded him of his conversation with Bard's daughter.
Tilda, once a little girl, had grown and blossomed into a young woman full of life, with the beauty of spring. Aldril still had an hour to spare before leaving. His conversation with Bard had been brief, but both had silently promised to find time to talk about all that had happened in their lives.
When she saw him, young Tilda ran toward him with the joy of a child who finds her hero. They embraced as they laughed, and Aldril couldn't help but feel tenderness; he saw Tilda as a younger sister. During his early months in Mirkwood, he had frequently visited the Valley, and he had spent much of that time with Bard's children.
To say Tilda was excited would be an understatement. It was as if, upon seeing Aldril, she was transported back to childhood, hoping that, as in the past, he would tell her stories. But this time, they would not be tales of dwarves or elves, but real accounts of his adventures across nearly all of Middle-earth.
Still having time before his departure, he agreed to chat with her for a while. As soon as they sat down, the young woman, with all the determination of her youth, explained her problem with her father and why she had been avoiding him.
Apparently, there were rumors that the bard—according to some young women—was known for charming maidens with his songs and taking advantage of them, only to abandon them once their purity was lost. He had tried to do the same with innocent Tilda… but she was not like the others.
According to her, Bard—her father—had misunderstood one of her nightly outings, thinking she was planning to run away with the bard. Though the young man sang and told stories with great skill thanks to his melodic voice, it was not enough to win Tilda's heart.
"Please!" she had said, offended. "How could a simple bard make me fall in love? My father fought hordes of orcs, and you—the dragonslayer—are like an uncle to me! Expectations are too high for just any man to steal my heart."
Aldril couldn't help but laugh, even more so upon discovering that what truly bothered Tilda wasn't the rumors of her 'love' for the bard, but the fact that her father didn't trust her. She explained that she simply liked hearing the young troubadour's stories… stories which, of course, were about Aldril himself. Her constant visits had been misinterpreted as infatuation, and the bard—quick to seize the opportunity—had tried to win her over, the princess of the valley.
"And what happened?" Aldril asked, amused.
"A kick to the groin," Tilda replied proudly. "Problem solved."
They both laughed conspiratorially.
Half an hour later, Aldril said goodbye to her, not before handing her a small gift: a shimmering reddish scale whose warmth was soft and comforting.
"It will let you walk naked in the middle of winter without feeling the sting of the cold," he said with a smile as he gave it to her. "It's a salamander scale. Use it well."
Tilda received it in awe, holding it between her fingers as if she were clutching a piece of the sun. She said nothing, but her gaze spoke more than a thousand words.
Returning to the present from that memory, Aldril couldn't help but shake his head.
"Perhaps my influence made little Tilda turn out that way," he murmured, just as he passed by the couple who had sparked the recollection.
...
As he reached the main gate leading to Erebor, Aldril spotted Lars with his wife… and his six children? The number of kids left the young half-elf stunned. It seemed men were truly intent on recovering their lost numbers, as during his walk to the town hall he had seen dozens of children playing and running through the streets of the market and surrounding areas.
"It's as if Smaug's attack and the war against the orcs awakened something in the surviving men," he thought.
Lars' family grew visibly nervous when they saw a hooded figure approaching. But as soon as Lars greeted him with enthusiasm, everyone realized who it was: the legendary dragon slayer.
Needless to say, the children ran toward him in excitement. Smiling warmly, Aldril lifted the youngest in laughter while the others surrounded him with admiration and questions.
Once settled in the cart Lars had prepared, Aldril began telling them stories. The little ones listened with bright eyes, though one detail caught his attention: unlike their father, some of the children seemed to have inherited their grandmother's genes… or so suggested the budding beards already sprouting on three of them.
The journey lasted hours, though Aldril barely noticed. He was so absorbed in storytelling that time seemed to melt away. If it hadn't been for the children, the trip would have felt eternal—common horses were far too slow compared to his faithful Shadow Star, who, with its current strength, could have run from the Valley to Erebor's gates in barely five minutes.
His arrival did not go unnoticed. From a distance, a dwarf standing guard spotted him and immediately rushed to report: the friend of the dwarves was on his way. They were already prepared to receive him, and those coming to greet him were none other than two of his dearest friends.
"Kíli, Fíli!" Aldril exclaimed joyfully.
They had already entered Erebor, and he had said goodbye to Lars, who, it seemed, was well-loved by the dwarves… and even more so his children, who were welcomed with cheers by several of them.
"Aldril, my friend!" shouted Kíli with open arms before hugging him tightly.
Aldril leaned down with a smile to return his friend's embrace.
"By my grandfather's beard!" exclaimed Fíli, incredulous. "Did you grow even taller? I remember you being smaller!"
With a jovial laugh, Aldril pulled away from Kíli to hug Fíli.
"You're not the first to say that, but yes… I may have grown a few centimeters," he said mockingly.
"A few centimeters, my ass!" Fíli replied through laughter. "You've grown at least twenty!"
His comment made Aldril burst into laughter. He was about to ask how they had been when a nearby commotion caught his attention. He frowned and raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"Blasted brats, I told you I won't dance!"
The troublemaker was none other than one of his beloved friends: Glóin, whose huge belly shook as he tried to escape from two pairs of… twins?
For a moment, Aldril thought those children were Glóin's, but the shout from Kíli and Fíli cleared up his confusion and brought a pleasant surprise.
"Dorin and Duran, come here!" Kíli called with a growing smile.
"Norin and Norarm, you too!" Fíli added, raising his voice with excitement.
The two pairs of twins, hearing their names, turned to see who was calling them. Recognizing the two dwarves, they ran toward them laughing, filling the corridor with their joyous noise.
"Dad, tell us again how fat Glóin danced!"
"Yes, tell us!"
"Eh? Who's he?" one asked, pointing at Aldril.
"He's so tall!" exclaimed another in awe.
Aldril's eyes widened in disbelief, surprised by the sudden revelation. Fíli and Kíli, noticing his reaction, placed the children in front of him with proud smiles.
"Aldril, let me introduce you… these are my children," said Kíli, grinning.
"And these are mine," added Fíli, puffing out his chest proudly.
Aldril stared at them, dumbfounded for a moment, before exclaiming, with a mix of awe and resignation:
"How the hell are you two already fathers?!"
***
Advanced chapters in "[email protected]/Mrnevercry"