The following text is a fan fiction based on the world and characters created by J.R.R. Tolkien. It tells a story that has not been told within Tolkien's work, but a story that is worth telling. This is my first, and most likely last, fan fiction, as I would like to focus on writing my novel from now on. But I felt I needed to tell this story.
I am not know for my talent as a teller of stories, yet today I have a story for you. A story that I have been a part of, a story that usually remains untold. It is a quiet story, a tragic story. The kind of story people do not care much about as it is not about dragons, war, or violence. The beginning of the story was told to me by Bard, also known as the Bowman, slayer of the dragon Smaug. King of Dale. A noble man who managed to impress even me. I only learned about the early part of the story after I had known Bard, may he rest in peace, for a long time.
I enter the story at a later part, and at that stage did not know much about the man who would later turn into a friend – but let's begin with when it all started.
TA 2923
Bard was surprised when he saw a woman sitting on a rock at the shore of the river. He had just finished checking his traps and was now on the way back to a hut in the forests surrounding the river. He often used that hut when he was on hunting trips, and enjoyed the solitude it allowed him for a few days. It seems like solitude is something you don't get much of in Esgaroth. Apparently it can be a quite oppressive place.
It had started to rain softly and a cool wind was blowing from the south-west, so he was looking forward to sitting in front of a warm fire with a hot cup of tea. The woman at the river had not noticed him yet. He was standing a few metres away from her behind a few big ferns. This was a beautiful spot. When you step out of the dense bush, the ground turns into a stony riverbank which was only covered by the waters of the river when there had been a lot of rain. If the weather was nice, Bard used to take one of his books with him, sit down there and read or just meditate while the river was softly whispering to him and the birds singing their songs. At this moment, he could hear a blackbird in the forest behind him.
The woman with long, black hair was wearing functional, simple clothing, ideal for a hike in in the forest, and a paddle was lying on the ground a few metres away.
Bard checked the area and finally noticed that there was a canoe tied to a tree further down the river. So that's how she got here, he thought. Odd. A woman in a canoe. In the middle of nowhere. And she is not from Laketown. I would have noticed her. Bard made sure that he made some noise while stepping out of the shadows.
The woman turned around to him, she did not appear startled at all. “I noticed you a few moments ago. I was just waiting to see how and when you would approach me.” She stood up, and shot a challenging look into Bard's direction. Her eyes were steel-blue, and the colour of her skin reminded Bard of finely grounded Sandalwood. The bargeman estimated that she must be around his age. He tried to put on a smile, but he did not manage to completely wipe the look of confusion from his face. “Where do you come from, and who are you? What are you doing in this part of the world?”
“I am from Dorwinion, if you must know,” the woman told him. “My name is Lucinda, and I am not sure whether I owe you an explanation as to why I am travelling on the river.”
Bard exclaimed: “Dorwinion? That's not exactly a short day's journey, especially if you travel upriver.” Lucinda grinned: “Yeah, you tell me. But who are you? I have the same right to ask you questions.”
Bard stepped closer to the stranger, and extended his hand: “I am Bard, I work as a bargeman on this river, and live in Laketown.” Lucinda shook Bard's hand, which felt nice and warm in her rather cold hand. “Ah, Esgaroth. I was thinking of stopping there to buy some supplies.”
“You won't be able to make it there today,” Bard said. “It will soon be dark.”
Lucinda sighed: “Yes, I know. I got a bit distracted. That's why I stopped here. It looks like a safe place to spend the night.”
“Distracted?” Bard asked. Lucinda looked at him, then shook her head. She would not tell that stranger about her love for plants and trees, and how she planned on putting together a book that would teach people about the various uses of plants. She had simply forgotten time when she was sketching some interesting looking plants along the river side. “It doesn't matter. But you know the river. Am I right about this being a good place?”
Bard laughed: “As long as it does not rain, yes. If you feel like having a roof over your head though, you could come with me. I am staying in a hut in the forest, and there is plenty of space.” Lucinda's eyes narrowed a little, and Bard did not miss it. “Don't worry. I would like to believe that I am trustworthy.”
Lucinda grinned: “And I would like to believe that I am someone who can defend herself very well. So yes, it would be quite nice to spend the night under a proper roof.”
The following day
Lucinda closed her eyes and put both hands over her face. A slight headache did not make her feel any better. Tomorrow, she would continue her journey, but she did not feel very energetic. The last few days had taken a toll on her. Bard had gone out to check his traps early in the morning. He wanted to dissemble them as he wanted to join Lucinda for her journey up to Laketown. He never left his traps in the forest, he did not want any animals to be caught in a trap while he was not there. He did not like the idea of causing the slow, and unnecessary death of animals. He had told Lucinda that he always made sure all his traps were back in the little shed next to the hut before he left the forest. Lucinda found his attitude quite refreshing. She decided she should go out for a walk. It could do her only good to hear the singing birds, the sound of the wind softly blowing through bushes and trees, and the steady whispering of the river. Lucinda changed into her hiking outfit, and left a small note for her new friend, telling him that she would make her way down to the stony riverbank to sit there for a while.
Before Lucinda got out of the cabin, however, Bard returned. He looked at her and noticed the way she was dressed: “I wouldn’t go out there now, if I was you. I had to return early because I saw dark rain-clouds coming our way. I am sure it will start pouring down soon. I was not able to do all I needed to do. I might not be able to come with you tomorrow, unless you don't mind waiting until the afternoon.” He went over to the fireplace and started to light a fire. Lucinda told him, she would return to her room, get changed again, and then join him. He smiled and concentrated on the fire again.
A few minutes later, Lucinda returned into the main room of the cabin where the fire was now going. Bard had put the kettle on the fire. “Would you like a cup of tea as well, Lucinda?” Lucinda looked at Bard suspiciously “A tea would be nice – but it is very unusual for a man to offer a woman to make her a drink.” Bard laughed “Maybe in your circles. Sit down, I’ll bring it to you when it’s ready.” As soon as Lucinda had cleared the wooden table so that only her quill and writing parchments were still on it, she sat down and heard rain falling on the roof like a waterfall! “You were right!” she exclaimed. “It would not have been very nice out there.”
Bard walked up to the table with two cups of tea in his hand and put one of them in front of Lucinda. She thanked him and watched him sitting down at the other side of the table. He then looked at Lucinda's sketches and descriptions of plants and trees. “You know, for a woman, you are quite different.” Lucinda looked at him questioningly. “Well, not often do you find a woman canoeing down a river on her own with just the basics, writing materials and some books in her barrels.” Lucinda took a big sip from her tea and looked deep in thought. She was not sure how to respond to that. With a bit of bitterness in his voice, Bard said “Women are often not happy with just the basics.”
“What do you mean by that?” Lucinda frowned at Bard.
He looked at her and wondered whether she was serious about asking that question. He had been turned down by some women, just because he did not understand why he should move into a bigger house if he was interested in a relationship. Women often acted as if his home was not big enough for a family. And they also did not like the fact that he preferred to help people in need instead of buying expensive presents or a bottle of fine wine: “Women always expect presents all the time. If you cannot shower them with presents, they soon lose their interest in you. They would also believe that you could not provide for a family. Their love comes at a high price.” Bard's tone when he said the word love made it obvious that love was not really the right word he would use for what those women wanted. Lucinda never thought that someone could say the word love with such bitterness.
Lucinda shook her head and said, “If a woman needs presents and cares more about money than about her partner, can that be love? I believe that in a relationship, the only presents that are necessary are each other’s time and attention. After love, there is no greater gift you can give to someone. If someone really cares about you, she doesn’t care about the size of your wallet. She cares about you, not about what you can buy her. She would sit in the rain with you if there was no shelter, she would walk a thousand miles to see you, and she would still have a good time because what counts for her is your company. If someone loves you, the greatest joy for her heart is to know you love her as well, and to see you smile. Your smile would be her greatest gift.” Lucinda blushed a little, she was not used to talk about topics like that with anyone, and she fidgeted with her quill while she was talking, only every now and then looking into Bard’s eyes. “At least that is what I think.”
Bard leaned back in his chair, an expression of disbelief on his face: “What kind of fantasy world do you come from? As nice as it sounds, that’s just not what women are like.”
Lucinda looked at him: “So you say, I am not a woman?”
The barge man sighed “That’s not what I meant. It’s just that you talk like someone out of a fairy tale of old, where all goes well and love is all that counts. You know, in the style of ‘they lived happily ever after…’ But this is not how our world works. Wouldn't you turn your back on your partner if all he did was give you his love, time, and attention?” Lucinda nervously shuffled a little in her chair. “No, all I would want is loyalty, honour, and a loving heart.”
Bard noticed that Lucinda was getting a little uncomfortable with the topic. She was stumbling over a few words and talked a little too quickly. Lucinda was close to giving up on her promise to herself to always be honest and authentic. She did not want to be judged by someone and be found worthless. All she wanted to do in that moment was to put back on her mask of indifference and toughness, but she knew that if she gave up, she would lose a part of herself. She had to be someone she was not for far too long. And for some reason she trusted Bard. In theory, she did not know him at all, yet her soul said she knew him better than anybody else. She looked at him: “I mean, I’d rather have someone who truly cares about me than someone who gets me expensive presents but then ignores me. My family, however, would see me married to as rich a man as possible. And if he had good connections, they would like that even better.”
Bard asked: “Is that the reason why you were on the river?”
Lucinda nodded, and looked at her tea. “Yes.” She took a deep breath, and looked up again: “Maybe it will do me some good to tell someone what happened… and it doesn’t look as if the rain will stop any time soon, so we will have a lot of time on our hands.” Lucinda paused a moment: “But may I ask something of you?” Bard nodded.
Lucinda looked at him seriously “Give me time to tell the story in my own pace. Be patient with me, let me find my own words. Don’t try to finish sentences or thoughts for me.” Bard sat down again and nodded at her “That, I should have no problem with. Patience is something you learn quickly out here. I will listen and not interrupt you unless you ask me to say something. Does that sound alright?” Lucinda smiled but then became serious again, when she tried to figure out where to begin.
Lucinda began her story by telling Bard about the business of her family: they had extensive gardens that bordered on to their vineyards in which some of the famed Dorwinion grapes were growing. While her brothers tended to the vineyards and the production of wine, Lucinda spent a lot of time in the gardens, learning about plants and growing things. She also told Bard about her dream of putting together a guide about the plants of Middle Earth. She told him that she wanted to use her new-found freedom to explore the forests and fields of Middle Earth to find the most exciting and most useful plants. She said, she could have never told her parents about her dream, because they had plans for her. They introduced her to the son of another rich family. Naturally, they were also in the wine business and both families hoped that they could become even richer by making their children marry each other. While Lucinda was not very interested in the young man with the name of Don, he was very interested in her indeed, but it apparently was not a good kind of interested. Lucinda compared it to someone's interest in adding another piece of jewellery to their collection. Lucinda had to become quite creative to stay out of Don's way, and could not sway her parents. Don's advances became harder and harder to escape. After one particular night, the night during which Don almost managed to rape Lucinda, she tried to talk to her parents once more, but they did not want to hear a word, even called her a liar and threatened to disown her if she did not soon agree to marry Don.
That was the day Lucinda decided to pack her things and run away to follow her dream of putting together an encyclopedia about the plants of Middle Earth. She told Bard she wanted to visit the Greenwood, then make her way to the valley of Rivendell. She had heard that the elves there had a vast library full of scrolls and books. She said she would rather die living her dream than be married to someone who only saw her as a piece in his collection that is to be used whenever he felt like it.
It took Lucinda a couple of hours to tell her story to Bard, who indeed kept his promise to listen attentively. Later in the day, they made their plans for the following day. They did travel to Laketown together, and Bard was secretly hoping that Lucinda would stay for a bit longer than just long enough to replenish her supplies.
The following years consist of topics I am not good at talking about, so I shall keep that short. Or shall I be honest to you and simply say that I am reluctant to tell these stories yet? After all, you are still a stranger to me. I also do not know all details, as Bard became rather quiet when he tried to tell me all that had occurred between him and Lucinda. It was easy for me to see that he loved her very much, and that it had been a true love, not the feeling that many people confuse with love. What people consider love these days is often naught but a mere shadow of the real emotion and connection between two souls and their hearts.
You can imagine what happened: Lucinda never left. She at first decided to only rest a few days, but a few days turned into a few weeks. Weeks turned into months, and in TA 2925, Bain, the son of Bard and Lucinda, was born. One year later, the two had another child. It was a daughter and they named her Sigrid. In TA 2930, a third child, another daughter with the name of Tilda, was born.
In TA 2935, everything was about to change for Bard and his family. It was also the year in which I met Bard for the first time. I shall tell you the story from my perspective, as unfortunately, nobody knows exactly how things came to happen, and I do not want to tell you lies.
TA 2935
I was on a peaceful journey through Eryn Galen. I had taken the freedom to spend a few days in the forest to get away from all my worries. It was just me, the forest, and my loyal friend Aras, who would never leave me side, and who was my closest companion for a long time. He was the only one I could truly confide in during my darkest hours.
We were close to the river that leads to the town of men on the lake. I was just about to tell Aras that it was time for us to head back, after all, I had no desire to encounter any men, and as much as I trust the captain of the guard and my son, I did not want to leave my halls alone for too long.
Aras suddenly became quite unsettled, and beckoned me to come to him. I knew he had sensed something. I could also feel waves of distress flowing through the forest. My first thought was that an animal had been hurt, and that Aras felt the distress of one of his kind. I also felt something dark, something I could not explain. Something that should not be in my forest. I am the guardian of this forest. These are my lands. No evil is allowed here.
I mounted Aras and he quickly led me to the center of all the commotion. After a few minutes, we arrived at a clearing, and what I saw came to me as a shock. Three huge spiders were sitting in the trees, and two of them were in the middle of the clearing. One of them held a female human between its huge fangs so that she was facing the spider's head. The spider's two front legs were partially embedded in the woman's body, entering the body a bit under the shoulder blades from what I could see from my position. A bow was uselessly lying on the ground next to the bizarre scene. Papers, pencils, and brushes were all over the place.
Aras and I knew that we had the duty to help that woman. I am not as cold-hearted as other story-tellers might want you to believe. I keep to myself, I keep my feelings hidden, but I am not cold-hearted. I jumped off Aras, readied my swords, and Aras was also ready to do his part. Never underestimate a proper elk. He was the king of all elks. I do not like showing off, so I will keep the fighting part short. Just know that my skills are unmatched. A few giant spiders are not much of a challenge. The spiders only noticed me when it was too late for them. When I was closer, I could see that the woman had managed to stick her two daggers into the spider that was holding her in a death grip. At that stage I was not sure whether either of them was still alive.
Aras and I killed the spiders swiftly. While we did so, the woman sank on her knees as the spider slowly crumbled down, dead, but its legs were still holding the human close. I quickly went to her, but knew that even though the poison would not have killed the woman, the deep wounds certainly would mean her end. You see, those spiders like playing with their food. They like eating things alive. While their poison can kill, they usually make sure that they do not inject more than necessary to render a foe unconscious.
I have great healing powers, but these wounds, especially when injected with poison, and most likely piercing through vital human organs, were most likely beyond me. The woman was closer to dead than to living. I did my best to carefully remove the legs from her body. The woman was wearing a warm leather coat that was lined with some sort of fur. A typical human outfit for which some innocent animal had to die. There were now two huge holes in the back of the coat where the spider had pierced the woman's body. But fashion would be the least of that human's concerns. When I saw the front of the woman's body, I knew there was nothing I could do for her. The spider must have injected more poison than unusual as there was also a big wound on the woman's abdomen that looked like a spider bite. As I mentioned before, I do not know what exactly happened before I arrived, but the woman must have hurt the spider terribly, and most likely, the spider responded with more poison during its death throes.
To my surprise, she was still alive, and conscious. Her breathing was very shallow, and her eyes filled with pain. But not the kind of pain I expected to see. She was suffering on a more spiritual and emotional level. She whispered: “Bard. Bring me to Bard. Don't let me die without seeing him again.”
I had heard of Bard before, yet I never met him. He was just a bargeman, I never had any reason to deal with him. But if he could keep a woman who should be dead alive, then he must be quite a special man. I knew I could not safe her life, but I wanted to try and at least keep her alive, so that Aras and I could carry her to her Bard. It would not have been right to leave her in the forest, rotting away like the spiders would. I simply had to keep her alive.
Aras did his best to take me and the woman to the town on the lake as quickly as possible, though with every minute that passed, my hope became dimmer while day was turning into night. With every minute, it took me more of my own energy to keep her in the land of the living. Fortunately, the town was also connected to the main land by some sort of causeway, as Aras would not have been able to swim such a distance. Our approach did not go unnoticed. And seeing me ride across the causeway must have been quite a surprise. Some rough looking men came running towards me, none of them looked like they could be worthy of the love I saw in the woman's eyes, but they would know where Bard was to be found. I hoped he would not be collecting barrels somewhere at that very moment. “Bard!” I yelled at the men. “Where can I find the man called Bard?” They clearly did not know how to deal with my sudden appearance, and when they noticed the woman in front of me, their eyes became even wider as they already were. But seeing her seemed to make them realize who I was looking for. Yet, they did not need to lead me anywhere, because that was when I saw him.
A tall, proud looking man was approaching from the other end of the causeway, wearing a dark blue coat that clearly had seen better days, just like his woman's coat had seen better days, too. My eyes were watering a little as I had lost some energy, and the ride had been rough, but it was not hard to see that he was different from ordinary men.
I made Aras move closer to the man I suspected to be Bard, and then carefully dismounted to place gently place the woman on the ground before him. He looked at her and me in disbelief, as if he did not understand what he was seeing, and I could not blame him. He fell on his knees in front of the woman, and placed her head in his lap. I let her go completely, I knew she would soon die. I knew it was not the time for me to say anything. Bard would ask me what happened later. He would not let me go without answers. I simply stepped back, stood next to Aras, with a hand on my friend's neck, for I also needed support.
“No,” Bard whispered. “No.” The woman whose name was Lucinda as I learned later, opened her eyes, barely breathing. “Bard. My Bard.” His and her arms were intertwined, and the lower half of his face was not visible to me as his hair was falling in front of it. I could only see his eyes, and what I saw in them was almost more than I could bear in my weakened stare. I knew that look. I knew it only too well.
I did not know where Lucinda took the energy to talk from, but I could hear her words. And I will never forget them. “Bard. I did not want to die without seeing you once more. You need to look after the children. You need to be there for them more than ever before.....” Bard kissed the woman's forehead as her eyes closed, and said “Don't fade away, don't leave me.” Lucinda exhaled, and took another deep breath, opening her eyes once more, but I knew she would not last much longer. She said: “I want you to take my coat. I want you to wear it. It's big enough for you.... you won't be able to close it though.... and it needs a good clean..... I want you to wear it, and feel like you are wrapped in my love all the time. I don't ever want you to feel lonely. I will always be with you.... don't let it fall apart like you usually do with your clothes...” Bard had a look of disbelief, slight amusement, and immense grief in his eyes at the same time. He probably could not belief that she was worrying about how he treated his clothing in a moment like that. Lucinda even smiled a little. “That is what I want to see. The sparkle in your eyes. The last thing I want to see is that spark in your eyes, brighter than any star to me...” Yes, there was something special in his eyes, but the tears were now also falling. And the light of the full moon indeed made them look like little stars rolling down his cheeks, leaving a trail of shimmering starlight behind. Bard had a hard time speaking, I could hear it in his voice. He said: “I will wear the coat. I will honour it, and I will never wear it in a battle. Wherever you go, Lucinda, never forget that you saved my soul, and truly made my life worth living. One day, we will meet again. My love for you will never die.” He smiled as much of a smile as his hurting soul allowed him. And his smile was the last thing Lucinda saw in her life.
This is the point where I shall end the story, for I will not describe the pain, the despair, the loss of the shining light in Bard's eyes. I will not describe how they moved Lucinda's body, and how I had to tell this suffering man how I found his wife, and how I could do nothing but bring her to him. I can also not bear to tell you about meeting the children.
All I can tell you is that Bard was never seen without that coat again. He only took it off during the battle of the five armies. I think no coat in all of Middle Earth had ever been taken care of so well. To others, the coat looked like it had seen better days, and it had, but to Bard it was the most beautiful coat in the whole world.
I, too, have suffered a loss that cannot be put into words. Yet, that story shall remain untold. For now.
Bard himself became the King of Dale three years after the Battle of the five Armies. I am sure that story of violence, blood, and action might be more to your liking than what I have just told you. But that story has already been told by someone else, so I shall not repeat it, even though my part in the story has often been portrayed in a rather one-sided manner.
Bard died in TA 2977. I was there. I stood at his grave in silence, paying my respect to a fellow king. A friend. A true friend. The only one I had left after Aras was killed in battle.
(Note: If it was a movie, the song https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HfwneeyGFek would fit in well at some stage during the death scene or for the end credits. I tried to find a different version of it, but none of the alternative versions by other people were quite what I was looking for – so the original will have to do)
Bard
and Lucinda
I am not know for my talent as a teller of stories, yet today I have a story for you. A story that I have been a part of, a story that usually remains untold. It is a quiet story, a tragic story. The kind of story people do not care much about as it is not about dragons, war, or violence. The beginning of the story was told to me by Bard, also known as the Bowman, slayer of the dragon Smaug. King of Dale. A noble man who managed to impress even me. I only learned about the early part of the story after I had known Bard, may he rest in peace, for a long time.
I enter the story at a later part, and at that stage did not know much about the man who would later turn into a friend – but let's begin with when it all started.
TA 2923
Bard was surprised when he saw a woman sitting on a rock at the shore of the river. He had just finished checking his traps and was now on the way back to a hut in the forests surrounding the river. He often used that hut when he was on hunting trips, and enjoyed the solitude it allowed him for a few days. It seems like solitude is something you don't get much of in Esgaroth. Apparently it can be a quite oppressive place.
It had started to rain softly and a cool wind was blowing from the south-west, so he was looking forward to sitting in front of a warm fire with a hot cup of tea. The woman at the river had not noticed him yet. He was standing a few metres away from her behind a few big ferns. This was a beautiful spot. When you step out of the dense bush, the ground turns into a stony riverbank which was only covered by the waters of the river when there had been a lot of rain. If the weather was nice, Bard used to take one of his books with him, sit down there and read or just meditate while the river was softly whispering to him and the birds singing their songs. At this moment, he could hear a blackbird in the forest behind him.
The woman with long, black hair was wearing functional, simple clothing, ideal for a hike in in the forest, and a paddle was lying on the ground a few metres away.
Bard checked the area and finally noticed that there was a canoe tied to a tree further down the river. So that's how she got here, he thought. Odd. A woman in a canoe. In the middle of nowhere. And she is not from Laketown. I would have noticed her. Bard made sure that he made some noise while stepping out of the shadows.
The woman turned around to him, she did not appear startled at all. “I noticed you a few moments ago. I was just waiting to see how and when you would approach me.” She stood up, and shot a challenging look into Bard's direction. Her eyes were steel-blue, and the colour of her skin reminded Bard of finely grounded Sandalwood. The bargeman estimated that she must be around his age. He tried to put on a smile, but he did not manage to completely wipe the look of confusion from his face. “Where do you come from, and who are you? What are you doing in this part of the world?”
“I am from Dorwinion, if you must know,” the woman told him. “My name is Lucinda, and I am not sure whether I owe you an explanation as to why I am travelling on the river.”
Bard exclaimed: “Dorwinion? That's not exactly a short day's journey, especially if you travel upriver.” Lucinda grinned: “Yeah, you tell me. But who are you? I have the same right to ask you questions.”
Bard stepped closer to the stranger, and extended his hand: “I am Bard, I work as a bargeman on this river, and live in Laketown.” Lucinda shook Bard's hand, which felt nice and warm in her rather cold hand. “Ah, Esgaroth. I was thinking of stopping there to buy some supplies.”
“You won't be able to make it there today,” Bard said. “It will soon be dark.”
Lucinda sighed: “Yes, I know. I got a bit distracted. That's why I stopped here. It looks like a safe place to spend the night.”
“Distracted?” Bard asked. Lucinda looked at him, then shook her head. She would not tell that stranger about her love for plants and trees, and how she planned on putting together a book that would teach people about the various uses of plants. She had simply forgotten time when she was sketching some interesting looking plants along the river side. “It doesn't matter. But you know the river. Am I right about this being a good place?”
Bard laughed: “As long as it does not rain, yes. If you feel like having a roof over your head though, you could come with me. I am staying in a hut in the forest, and there is plenty of space.” Lucinda's eyes narrowed a little, and Bard did not miss it. “Don't worry. I would like to believe that I am trustworthy.”
Lucinda grinned: “And I would like to believe that I am someone who can defend herself very well. So yes, it would be quite nice to spend the night under a proper roof.”
The following day
Lucinda closed her eyes and put both hands over her face. A slight headache did not make her feel any better. Tomorrow, she would continue her journey, but she did not feel very energetic. The last few days had taken a toll on her. Bard had gone out to check his traps early in the morning. He wanted to dissemble them as he wanted to join Lucinda for her journey up to Laketown. He never left his traps in the forest, he did not want any animals to be caught in a trap while he was not there. He did not like the idea of causing the slow, and unnecessary death of animals. He had told Lucinda that he always made sure all his traps were back in the little shed next to the hut before he left the forest. Lucinda found his attitude quite refreshing. She decided she should go out for a walk. It could do her only good to hear the singing birds, the sound of the wind softly blowing through bushes and trees, and the steady whispering of the river. Lucinda changed into her hiking outfit, and left a small note for her new friend, telling him that she would make her way down to the stony riverbank to sit there for a while.
Before Lucinda got out of the cabin, however, Bard returned. He looked at her and noticed the way she was dressed: “I wouldn’t go out there now, if I was you. I had to return early because I saw dark rain-clouds coming our way. I am sure it will start pouring down soon. I was not able to do all I needed to do. I might not be able to come with you tomorrow, unless you don't mind waiting until the afternoon.” He went over to the fireplace and started to light a fire. Lucinda told him, she would return to her room, get changed again, and then join him. He smiled and concentrated on the fire again.
A few minutes later, Lucinda returned into the main room of the cabin where the fire was now going. Bard had put the kettle on the fire. “Would you like a cup of tea as well, Lucinda?” Lucinda looked at Bard suspiciously “A tea would be nice – but it is very unusual for a man to offer a woman to make her a drink.” Bard laughed “Maybe in your circles. Sit down, I’ll bring it to you when it’s ready.” As soon as Lucinda had cleared the wooden table so that only her quill and writing parchments were still on it, she sat down and heard rain falling on the roof like a waterfall! “You were right!” she exclaimed. “It would not have been very nice out there.”
Bard walked up to the table with two cups of tea in his hand and put one of them in front of Lucinda. She thanked him and watched him sitting down at the other side of the table. He then looked at Lucinda's sketches and descriptions of plants and trees. “You know, for a woman, you are quite different.” Lucinda looked at him questioningly. “Well, not often do you find a woman canoeing down a river on her own with just the basics, writing materials and some books in her barrels.” Lucinda took a big sip from her tea and looked deep in thought. She was not sure how to respond to that. With a bit of bitterness in his voice, Bard said “Women are often not happy with just the basics.”
“What do you mean by that?” Lucinda frowned at Bard.
He looked at her and wondered whether she was serious about asking that question. He had been turned down by some women, just because he did not understand why he should move into a bigger house if he was interested in a relationship. Women often acted as if his home was not big enough for a family. And they also did not like the fact that he preferred to help people in need instead of buying expensive presents or a bottle of fine wine: “Women always expect presents all the time. If you cannot shower them with presents, they soon lose their interest in you. They would also believe that you could not provide for a family. Their love comes at a high price.” Bard's tone when he said the word love made it obvious that love was not really the right word he would use for what those women wanted. Lucinda never thought that someone could say the word love with such bitterness.
Lucinda shook her head and said, “If a woman needs presents and cares more about money than about her partner, can that be love? I believe that in a relationship, the only presents that are necessary are each other’s time and attention. After love, there is no greater gift you can give to someone. If someone really cares about you, she doesn’t care about the size of your wallet. She cares about you, not about what you can buy her. She would sit in the rain with you if there was no shelter, she would walk a thousand miles to see you, and she would still have a good time because what counts for her is your company. If someone loves you, the greatest joy for her heart is to know you love her as well, and to see you smile. Your smile would be her greatest gift.” Lucinda blushed a little, she was not used to talk about topics like that with anyone, and she fidgeted with her quill while she was talking, only every now and then looking into Bard’s eyes. “At least that is what I think.”
Bard leaned back in his chair, an expression of disbelief on his face: “What kind of fantasy world do you come from? As nice as it sounds, that’s just not what women are like.”
Lucinda looked at him: “So you say, I am not a woman?”
The barge man sighed “That’s not what I meant. It’s just that you talk like someone out of a fairy tale of old, where all goes well and love is all that counts. You know, in the style of ‘they lived happily ever after…’ But this is not how our world works. Wouldn't you turn your back on your partner if all he did was give you his love, time, and attention?” Lucinda nervously shuffled a little in her chair. “No, all I would want is loyalty, honour, and a loving heart.”
Bard noticed that Lucinda was getting a little uncomfortable with the topic. She was stumbling over a few words and talked a little too quickly. Lucinda was close to giving up on her promise to herself to always be honest and authentic. She did not want to be judged by someone and be found worthless. All she wanted to do in that moment was to put back on her mask of indifference and toughness, but she knew that if she gave up, she would lose a part of herself. She had to be someone she was not for far too long. And for some reason she trusted Bard. In theory, she did not know him at all, yet her soul said she knew him better than anybody else. She looked at him: “I mean, I’d rather have someone who truly cares about me than someone who gets me expensive presents but then ignores me. My family, however, would see me married to as rich a man as possible. And if he had good connections, they would like that even better.”
Bard asked: “Is that the reason why you were on the river?”
Lucinda nodded, and looked at her tea. “Yes.” She took a deep breath, and looked up again: “Maybe it will do me some good to tell someone what happened… and it doesn’t look as if the rain will stop any time soon, so we will have a lot of time on our hands.” Lucinda paused a moment: “But may I ask something of you?” Bard nodded.
Lucinda looked at him seriously “Give me time to tell the story in my own pace. Be patient with me, let me find my own words. Don’t try to finish sentences or thoughts for me.” Bard sat down again and nodded at her “That, I should have no problem with. Patience is something you learn quickly out here. I will listen and not interrupt you unless you ask me to say something. Does that sound alright?” Lucinda smiled but then became serious again, when she tried to figure out where to begin.
Lucinda began her story by telling Bard about the business of her family: they had extensive gardens that bordered on to their vineyards in which some of the famed Dorwinion grapes were growing. While her brothers tended to the vineyards and the production of wine, Lucinda spent a lot of time in the gardens, learning about plants and growing things. She also told Bard about her dream of putting together a guide about the plants of Middle Earth. She told him that she wanted to use her new-found freedom to explore the forests and fields of Middle Earth to find the most exciting and most useful plants. She said, she could have never told her parents about her dream, because they had plans for her. They introduced her to the son of another rich family. Naturally, they were also in the wine business and both families hoped that they could become even richer by making their children marry each other. While Lucinda was not very interested in the young man with the name of Don, he was very interested in her indeed, but it apparently was not a good kind of interested. Lucinda compared it to someone's interest in adding another piece of jewellery to their collection. Lucinda had to become quite creative to stay out of Don's way, and could not sway her parents. Don's advances became harder and harder to escape. After one particular night, the night during which Don almost managed to rape Lucinda, she tried to talk to her parents once more, but they did not want to hear a word, even called her a liar and threatened to disown her if she did not soon agree to marry Don.
That was the day Lucinda decided to pack her things and run away to follow her dream of putting together an encyclopedia about the plants of Middle Earth. She told Bard she wanted to visit the Greenwood, then make her way to the valley of Rivendell. She had heard that the elves there had a vast library full of scrolls and books. She said she would rather die living her dream than be married to someone who only saw her as a piece in his collection that is to be used whenever he felt like it.
It took Lucinda a couple of hours to tell her story to Bard, who indeed kept his promise to listen attentively. Later in the day, they made their plans for the following day. They did travel to Laketown together, and Bard was secretly hoping that Lucinda would stay for a bit longer than just long enough to replenish her supplies.
The following years consist of topics I am not good at talking about, so I shall keep that short. Or shall I be honest to you and simply say that I am reluctant to tell these stories yet? After all, you are still a stranger to me. I also do not know all details, as Bard became rather quiet when he tried to tell me all that had occurred between him and Lucinda. It was easy for me to see that he loved her very much, and that it had been a true love, not the feeling that many people confuse with love. What people consider love these days is often naught but a mere shadow of the real emotion and connection between two souls and their hearts.
You can imagine what happened: Lucinda never left. She at first decided to only rest a few days, but a few days turned into a few weeks. Weeks turned into months, and in TA 2925, Bain, the son of Bard and Lucinda, was born. One year later, the two had another child. It was a daughter and they named her Sigrid. In TA 2930, a third child, another daughter with the name of Tilda, was born.
In TA 2935, everything was about to change for Bard and his family. It was also the year in which I met Bard for the first time. I shall tell you the story from my perspective, as unfortunately, nobody knows exactly how things came to happen, and I do not want to tell you lies.
TA 2935
I was on a peaceful journey through Eryn Galen. I had taken the freedom to spend a few days in the forest to get away from all my worries. It was just me, the forest, and my loyal friend Aras, who would never leave me side, and who was my closest companion for a long time. He was the only one I could truly confide in during my darkest hours.
We were close to the river that leads to the town of men on the lake. I was just about to tell Aras that it was time for us to head back, after all, I had no desire to encounter any men, and as much as I trust the captain of the guard and my son, I did not want to leave my halls alone for too long.
Aras suddenly became quite unsettled, and beckoned me to come to him. I knew he had sensed something. I could also feel waves of distress flowing through the forest. My first thought was that an animal had been hurt, and that Aras felt the distress of one of his kind. I also felt something dark, something I could not explain. Something that should not be in my forest. I am the guardian of this forest. These are my lands. No evil is allowed here.
I mounted Aras and he quickly led me to the center of all the commotion. After a few minutes, we arrived at a clearing, and what I saw came to me as a shock. Three huge spiders were sitting in the trees, and two of them were in the middle of the clearing. One of them held a female human between its huge fangs so that she was facing the spider's head. The spider's two front legs were partially embedded in the woman's body, entering the body a bit under the shoulder blades from what I could see from my position. A bow was uselessly lying on the ground next to the bizarre scene. Papers, pencils, and brushes were all over the place.
Aras and I knew that we had the duty to help that woman. I am not as cold-hearted as other story-tellers might want you to believe. I keep to myself, I keep my feelings hidden, but I am not cold-hearted. I jumped off Aras, readied my swords, and Aras was also ready to do his part. Never underestimate a proper elk. He was the king of all elks. I do not like showing off, so I will keep the fighting part short. Just know that my skills are unmatched. A few giant spiders are not much of a challenge. The spiders only noticed me when it was too late for them. When I was closer, I could see that the woman had managed to stick her two daggers into the spider that was holding her in a death grip. At that stage I was not sure whether either of them was still alive.
Aras and I killed the spiders swiftly. While we did so, the woman sank on her knees as the spider slowly crumbled down, dead, but its legs were still holding the human close. I quickly went to her, but knew that even though the poison would not have killed the woman, the deep wounds certainly would mean her end. You see, those spiders like playing with their food. They like eating things alive. While their poison can kill, they usually make sure that they do not inject more than necessary to render a foe unconscious.
I have great healing powers, but these wounds, especially when injected with poison, and most likely piercing through vital human organs, were most likely beyond me. The woman was closer to dead than to living. I did my best to carefully remove the legs from her body. The woman was wearing a warm leather coat that was lined with some sort of fur. A typical human outfit for which some innocent animal had to die. There were now two huge holes in the back of the coat where the spider had pierced the woman's body. But fashion would be the least of that human's concerns. When I saw the front of the woman's body, I knew there was nothing I could do for her. The spider must have injected more poison than unusual as there was also a big wound on the woman's abdomen that looked like a spider bite. As I mentioned before, I do not know what exactly happened before I arrived, but the woman must have hurt the spider terribly, and most likely, the spider responded with more poison during its death throes.
To my surprise, she was still alive, and conscious. Her breathing was very shallow, and her eyes filled with pain. But not the kind of pain I expected to see. She was suffering on a more spiritual and emotional level. She whispered: “Bard. Bring me to Bard. Don't let me die without seeing him again.”
I had heard of Bard before, yet I never met him. He was just a bargeman, I never had any reason to deal with him. But if he could keep a woman who should be dead alive, then he must be quite a special man. I knew I could not safe her life, but I wanted to try and at least keep her alive, so that Aras and I could carry her to her Bard. It would not have been right to leave her in the forest, rotting away like the spiders would. I simply had to keep her alive.
Aras did his best to take me and the woman to the town on the lake as quickly as possible, though with every minute that passed, my hope became dimmer while day was turning into night. With every minute, it took me more of my own energy to keep her in the land of the living. Fortunately, the town was also connected to the main land by some sort of causeway, as Aras would not have been able to swim such a distance. Our approach did not go unnoticed. And seeing me ride across the causeway must have been quite a surprise. Some rough looking men came running towards me, none of them looked like they could be worthy of the love I saw in the woman's eyes, but they would know where Bard was to be found. I hoped he would not be collecting barrels somewhere at that very moment. “Bard!” I yelled at the men. “Where can I find the man called Bard?” They clearly did not know how to deal with my sudden appearance, and when they noticed the woman in front of me, their eyes became even wider as they already were. But seeing her seemed to make them realize who I was looking for. Yet, they did not need to lead me anywhere, because that was when I saw him.
A tall, proud looking man was approaching from the other end of the causeway, wearing a dark blue coat that clearly had seen better days, just like his woman's coat had seen better days, too. My eyes were watering a little as I had lost some energy, and the ride had been rough, but it was not hard to see that he was different from ordinary men.
I made Aras move closer to the man I suspected to be Bard, and then carefully dismounted to place gently place the woman on the ground before him. He looked at her and me in disbelief, as if he did not understand what he was seeing, and I could not blame him. He fell on his knees in front of the woman, and placed her head in his lap. I let her go completely, I knew she would soon die. I knew it was not the time for me to say anything. Bard would ask me what happened later. He would not let me go without answers. I simply stepped back, stood next to Aras, with a hand on my friend's neck, for I also needed support.
“No,” Bard whispered. “No.” The woman whose name was Lucinda as I learned later, opened her eyes, barely breathing. “Bard. My Bard.” His and her arms were intertwined, and the lower half of his face was not visible to me as his hair was falling in front of it. I could only see his eyes, and what I saw in them was almost more than I could bear in my weakened stare. I knew that look. I knew it only too well.
I did not know where Lucinda took the energy to talk from, but I could hear her words. And I will never forget them. “Bard. I did not want to die without seeing you once more. You need to look after the children. You need to be there for them more than ever before.....” Bard kissed the woman's forehead as her eyes closed, and said “Don't fade away, don't leave me.” Lucinda exhaled, and took another deep breath, opening her eyes once more, but I knew she would not last much longer. She said: “I want you to take my coat. I want you to wear it. It's big enough for you.... you won't be able to close it though.... and it needs a good clean..... I want you to wear it, and feel like you are wrapped in my love all the time. I don't ever want you to feel lonely. I will always be with you.... don't let it fall apart like you usually do with your clothes...” Bard had a look of disbelief, slight amusement, and immense grief in his eyes at the same time. He probably could not belief that she was worrying about how he treated his clothing in a moment like that. Lucinda even smiled a little. “That is what I want to see. The sparkle in your eyes. The last thing I want to see is that spark in your eyes, brighter than any star to me...” Yes, there was something special in his eyes, but the tears were now also falling. And the light of the full moon indeed made them look like little stars rolling down his cheeks, leaving a trail of shimmering starlight behind. Bard had a hard time speaking, I could hear it in his voice. He said: “I will wear the coat. I will honour it, and I will never wear it in a battle. Wherever you go, Lucinda, never forget that you saved my soul, and truly made my life worth living. One day, we will meet again. My love for you will never die.” He smiled as much of a smile as his hurting soul allowed him. And his smile was the last thing Lucinda saw in her life.
This is the point where I shall end the story, for I will not describe the pain, the despair, the loss of the shining light in Bard's eyes. I will not describe how they moved Lucinda's body, and how I had to tell this suffering man how I found his wife, and how I could do nothing but bring her to him. I can also not bear to tell you about meeting the children.
All I can tell you is that Bard was never seen without that coat again. He only took it off during the battle of the five armies. I think no coat in all of Middle Earth had ever been taken care of so well. To others, the coat looked like it had seen better days, and it had, but to Bard it was the most beautiful coat in the whole world.
I, too, have suffered a loss that cannot be put into words. Yet, that story shall remain untold. For now.
Bard himself became the King of Dale three years after the Battle of the five Armies. I am sure that story of violence, blood, and action might be more to your liking than what I have just told you. But that story has already been told by someone else, so I shall not repeat it, even though my part in the story has often been portrayed in a rather one-sided manner.
Bard died in TA 2977. I was there. I stood at his grave in silence, paying my respect to a fellow king. A friend. A true friend. The only one I had left after Aras was killed in battle.
(Note: If it was a movie, the song https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HfwneeyGFek would fit in well at some stage during the death scene or for the end credits. I tried to find a different version of it, but none of the alternative versions by other people were quite what I was looking for – so the original will have to do)
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