Torn Between

Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Tauriel's POV

I don't know why I didn't leave.

The streets of Laketown are filled with screams. A hazy smoke fills the air, foreshadowing what is to come. There is chaos everywhere, children crying, parents trying to get their families into boats and head away from the town. The channels flowing through Laketown are chock full of boats and people trying to save themselves.

A dark shadow swoops over the town, close enough to brush the tops of buildings. More screams erupt.

The dragon is here.

I stand near the place where the dwarves and Amariel had stayed, my gaze on the sky. The silhouette of Smaug drifts over the down again, wrecking more havoc.

And then, the fire comes.

It reflects yellow and orange on the water. People shout for family members, others jump into the water. I leap over boats and burning bits of the falling buildings. All of Laketown is wood; it stands no chance against the fires of Smaug.

I hear a scream come from behind me, and I turn to see the man's children standing on their porch, the boy clutching his sisters tightly. I hesitate. I could help them, a flat boat is docked right under their house. But should I risk my life?

Amariel would do it.

Legolas most likely wouldn't.

I listen to my own instincts and head back for them, ushering them down the stairs and onto the boat.

"But our father!" the boy shouts over the din.

"If you wait for him, your sisters will die. Is that what your father would want?" I snap, and dip the oar into the water, propelling us forward. Another burst of fire hits the city, engulfing more in heat and smoke.

Amariel's POV

Laketown was on fire. I can just see the crude shape of the dragon swooping over the town, lighting it on fire and billowing the black smoke into the air.

Bard was there. And his poor children. They should not have to go through this after the kindness they showed the dwarves and me. And it was all our fault.

I lean my head into Kili, not wanting to watch the wooden city of Laketown go up in flames. He wraps his arms around me, and I can feel him shaking his head distraughtly.

"Poor souls," Balin mutters quietly. The mood atop the guard tower we stand on is solemn, and we all stand silently.

All except for Thorin.

He stands down the steps a ways, his eyes fixed on the mountain, not caring about the red and yellow flaming dot on the horizon that is growing bigger every time Smaug blows more fire.

Bilbo watches him with a face of concern and something I can't quite make out. I reach out and squeezed his hand, and he returns the gesture without looking back at me.

Tauriel's POV

I keep my face of calm as we maneuver the waterways, the tolling of the bells ringing in my ears. I look to the main tower where the bell was ringing, and see a figure with a longbow shooting arrows at the dragon. The boy and girls follow my gaze, and cry out in fear.

"Da!" the son shouts, and the girls scream. "Da!"

"He hit the dragon!" the older daughter cries suddenly, and I look at the dragon, my eyes widen.

"No," I whisper. "His arrows cannot pierce its hide. I fear nothing will."

Suddenly, the son jumps out of the boat, swinging onto a dock.