From The Ashes

18

"Have you ever seen it?" A quiet voice pulled Bard from his thoughts. He was standing looking out of the window, even from the humble home, he could clearly see burning torches in the square. It seemed the people had struck true to some celebrating. As if the illuminations weren't obvious enough, then the singing and drunken sounds of the townspeople gave it away more so. He stood just thoughtfully looking beyond the pane of glass. His thoughts were drifting between many things, he couldn't pin one thing down specifically. Removing the hand from his chin, he looked at Alassëa.

She stood with a thin blanket wrapped around her shoulders, in her hands she held a steaming cup. Not long after both arriving home, they had noticed the children had gone to bed. They were either later returning home, or they had decided to get an early night. It was hard to distinguish which. Bard hadn't thought they'd been gone that long, but then the walk home seemed to take longer than usual.

Or that could have just felt like it because Alassëa kept trying to send reassuring words his way. She tried, she really tried. She could see how troubled and plagued he was by this whole turn of events. And she wanted nothing more than to try and relieve some of the tension he was feeling. He smiled lightly at her for it, for her efforts, even if they hadn't exactly worked. He could not fault her for trying.

"Dale, I mean. Not Smaug." She furthered on when she realised her earlier question could have related to both things. She tentatively drunk some of her drink, careful not to burn herself. She had become cold in bed and promptly decided a warm drink would help her greatly. She just didn't expect to see Bard still up, lost in thoughts with a rather grim but distant expression on his face.

"No," he replied quietly with a shake of his head. "Never thought I would, to be honest." He said, which was true. He never thought in his lifetime he'd come across the destroyed city, or the calamity which was Smaug.

Alassëa tilted her head to the side and walked over to his side. "I have heard stories of the dragon." She said offhandedly when he didn't further on from his previous words. He lowered his arms to his sides and looked at her curiously. "I...may have visited Dale, once, a few years I think it was before its destruction." She looked rather sheepish at this. Perhaps it was because in admitting this it really cemented how much of an age difference there was between them. When she had told the Master that she had lived perhaps two of his lives, she had not been kidding. The Master had at least twenty years on Bard, so she had lived more of his life times by far. But then, admitting to visiting the city his ancestor had called home and ruled was also a cause to be sheepish and coy.

"What was it like?" Bard asked.

Alassëa looked up at him, she had been staring off into space, but now she was back to reality and looking at him. He just looked to her with a curious expression, he tried to hide it but the look was in his eyes. Alassëa smiled, "It was peaceful, from what I can remember."

"Why did you visit it?"

"I was given leave. So I wished to travel. That was the first time I would have travelled through Mirkwood, this time successfully." She added with a sly smile. "But it was also the same time I saw Esgaroth, it hasn't changed too much I must admit." Rubbing her head with a frown she tilted her head to the side. "Hm, the memory is there, a little hazy, but it's there. Dale was busy, but not chaotic. The type of constant bustle which was content. Everyone coexisted, there was no tension, not like here." Alassëa explained with a smile.

Bard shifted his weight and looked to the floor. Slowly raising his gaze to her he frowned slowly. "Did you ever meet him?"

"No." Alassëa was firm with this, firm and honest. She may have visited what was rightly his home city many, many years ago, but she had never met his ancestor. "But..."