We-Ourselves-Our-Art

The water lapped at my boots as I reached down to help an elderly woman to shore. Her hand was icy cold and gripped my wrist in a strangle hold. She fell to her knees with a sob, trembling. "Everything is gone." A floating barrel bumped against my leg as I reached for the next person and the next. Smaug was dead. Not long after reaching the edge of the lake Tauriel, Legolas and I watched the dragon plummet from the sky shot down by Bard's black arrow. I'm the reason the elves weren't there before Smaug's attack. Did Bard's children die because Legolas and Tauriel weren't there to save them from the Orcs? What of Kili who needed Tauriel's elven healing magic to recover from his poisoned wound? These were just a few of the questions that circled around in my head as more and more people stumbled onto the shore. The sun broke over the eastern ridge, the bright rays striking against the surface of the water. Ducking my head, I squinted and searched the floating debris for anyone else in