Chapter Seventeen: A Dragon Awakened

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Priscilla rushed in after Oin and Fili, carrying Kili. Bofur followed behind, and Bard shut the door after them. The two girls and one boy, Bard's children, sat in the main room with confused looks on their faces. Obviously Bard had told them he was done with dwarves as well.

Priscilla didn't think much of it. The others fussed with Kili, clearing the table and getting him onto it, a bed of walnuts under his head. She rushed around, asking for a bowl of warm water from one of the girls and cloth from another, then stopped short.

"Walnuts? Really?" She asked. The three coherent dwarves looked at her, not thinking anything was wrong. Priscilla rolled her eyes and turned to the girl near her. "Bring me a pillow or two as well. Those walnuts can't be comfortable by any means." The girl nodded and rushed off. 

She hadn't noticed how quickly the wound had deteriorated. When they were in Bard's home just earlier that day, he'd put out the fire on her dress like it was nothing. However, in the time between then and now, the poison or the infection had set in, and it was turning out for the worse. 

"I need herbs, something to bring down his fever." Oin said. Priscilla gently pulled back the bindings on Kili's leg as he moaned in pain. If the infection had gotten into his bloodstream, amputation might be the only solution. She bit her lip, accepting a warm, wet rag from Bofur and using it to soften the bandage as she pulled it back.

Arrow wounds were more serious than she thought people realized. True, she had just been a simple hobbit living in the Shire up until this point, and had no experience, but she could see plainly enough that this was never what she would have expected just hearing that someone had been hit with an arrow in the leg. Arrows were meant to fly fast and hit hard, and the arrowheads were shaped to embed deeply and invite infection. Kili had broken off the shaft sticking out, but the arrowhead was still deep within his leg and the wound was beginning to fester. 

Bard searched through a bag of herbs and medicines. "I have nightshade, feverfew..." he sorted through them, naming off names of herbs she had never heard of. 

"Do you have any Kingsfoil?" Oin asked.

"No, it's a weed. We feed it to the pigs." Bard said, eyes wide. 

"Pigs? Weed? Right." Bofur nodded. He pointed to Kili, "Don't move," and ran out of the house in search of the pig pen. 

Priscilla moved to Kili's head where she lifted gently and brushed aside the pile of walnuts before placing a pillow down and resting his head on it. She wasn't sure he had even noticed her, he was so much in pain from his leg. Fili and Bofur would have to hold him down soon if the wound got any worse. There was sweat on his brow; she wiped it off with a tattered sleeve, again wishing for a nicer wardrobe despite the serious situation she was in. 

They waited impatiently for Bofur to return with the Kingsfoil. Priscilla was tempted to try to use her powers to help Kili but she knew she hadn't practiced enough and she needed help. Bofur was taking forever. She watched as Oin carefully washed out the wound, clearing up some of the infection, and exposing the broken shaft. 

Suddenly the house shook in a reverberation. Dust fell from the ceiling and everyone looked up and around. The children began to fuss, the girls frightened of the sound.

"It's coming from the mountain." Bain, the son, said. 

Fili approached Bard. "You should leave us. Take your children. Get out of here." 

"And go where? There is nowhere to go." Bard argued. 

"Are we going to die, Da?" Tilda, the youngest, asked. 

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