A/N: This chapter was more difficult to write than I thought it would be and it's all because of the action scenes. And are those the last action scenes to come? No, of course not, because I'm a freaking masochist and I like to torture myself with things that I don't like to write. Like action scenes.
Well, at any rate, I hope you don't mind the long wait too much. I will try my best to put the next chapter up much sooner than this one.
Also, who is excited for that Thranduil/Tauriel part I've promised? It's coming to you soon, guys, just as some more saucy bits for our main couple! ;D
For now, enjoy Chapter 2 and please, don't forget to review/comment! :)

CHAPTER 2

The morning following the disturbing events of the night passed quickly, leaving Sigrid to prepare a midday meal for the guests and her siblings while she worried for her father's wellbeing. He had promised to come home, but was yet to return and she feared that something horrible must have happened to him, since he wasn't one to go back on his word. So Sigrid worried and all present in the house were well aware of it, if the looks they were sending her every now and then were anything to go by. Unease was settling into their very bones, but it was not only her troubled mind that made them anxious.

Something has happened during the early hours between night and daybreak, but they didn't know what and the unknown pulled at their nerves, making them stiff and alert. Sigrid suspected it had a lot to do with the missing dwarves and the elves seemed to agree with her on that front. The remaining dwarves were not so keen on sharing what little information they had, but the guilty looks on their bearded faces were enough to let her know that they indeed had at least some vague knowledge of their kin's doings, but were simply unwilling to share with the rest. She imagined that the presence of the two elves, who were partially responsible from their capture in the woods, as she has learnt from Legolas himself, didn't make them any more talkative.

She put what little bread was left onto a wooden board and chopped it into neat thin slices before moving them into a small wicker basket and then laying them on the table amongst the rest of the modest meal. Since they couldn't very well go out, she made do with what was left in their pantry and prepared a hearty stew from the rest of the deer meat and some vegetables. There was also a teapot with freshly brewed herbal tea, a block of white cheese, some jerky, and a few apples to share if the main dish would not be enough. It wasn't much, but it would have to do.

Tilda handed out the bowls of the pottage with careful hands while Sigrid watched her attentively from her spot near the window, drinking hot tea and fidgeting with her spoon. She wasn't really hungry.

"It is quite savoury," Legolas commented as he took his seat in the same chair he had been occupying before, apparently content to keep her company.

She glanced at him briefly. A smile bloomed on her face when she saw him eating the meal she has prepared, clearly enjoying the taste of something so simple she had been almost ashamed to serve it to the guests.

Her family was poor and there was never much to go around, but it mattered little when they were alone, just the four of them. They never invited anyone over to their house, because there was more often than not barely enough to feed them, let alone to offer something to others. Thankfully, the last two months have been good for her father's trade and they had more to do with than usual, which was a blessing, considering the very unexpected visit of two elves and a company of dwarves.

It was as if gods had known they would need more food at this time – as if they were expecting them to give shelter and offer help.

Maybe that was why her father decided to aid the dwarves in the first place?

Divine beings of lore aside, it was indeed a peculiar coincidence.

"You seem troubled, Sigrid," Legolas said after a moment of silence and she smiled at him, although it didn't reach her eyes.

"I am worried about my father," she responded as she surveyed the room, her eyes landing on Tauriel and Kili. The she-elf was helping him eat while they talked in hushed tones and exchanged warm smiles. She wondered if this uncanny bond between them was the cause of Legolas' reaction when he had first saw his friend upon entering Sigrid's house. "But you are worried as well, are you not?"

"Aa." He nodded and turned his gaze to the she-elf and the young dwarf as well. "She is running away from her fate, convinced that she is doing the right thing by helping that dwarf. The one who holds her dear to his heart is close to me, a member of my family, and so I cannot simply leave her to this folly, but I fear for the consequences of her actions."

Sigrid turned her gaze away and looked at the elf once more. His brows were furrowed, his lips drawn into a firm line, and his jaw was set, the tension in the rest of his body quite obvious and clearly visible. He didn't want to help the dwarf and he didn't want to be here in the first place, but he cared for Tauriel and for whoever loved the spirited she-elf enough to put aside his own feelings, which she found to be rather admirable.

"The dwarves talked about Erebor and I know that only evil lies in that mountain," she murmured quietly. Legolas' head snapped to her. His eyes widen slightly at her words, as if he wasn't expecting her to know it, but he said nothing, waiting for her to continue. "They are going to wake it, aren't they?"

He didn't respond, but the look on his face was enough to make her shudder.

-o-o-o-

It was the middle of the night when she heard it.

The sound was akin to a thunder rolling through the skies, but deeper and more menacing than what nature could bring with its wild storms. A shiver went down her spine as it reverberated through the entire town, seemingly shaking the walls of the house with its strength.

She was fully altered in a moment, the last remains of sleep disappearing from her mind at once in the face of an unknown danger that seemed to draw near with every passing second.

"What is it?" She asked quietly as her eyes dared to Legolas who was already up and at the door. "It's like nothing I've ever heard…"

He turned to look at her, but his expression was unreadable.

"I will be back," he said at last before he disappeared behind the door.

She rose from her chair and woke everyone who was still miraculously asleep. Tauriel was already awake and strapping her blades to the belt at her waist with steady hands. She was obviously used to fighting, a seasoned shield maiden in her own right, but her eyes betrayed her worry, which made Sigrid even more apprehensive. If someone so experienced was showing signs of distress, then nothing good could be underfoot.

"Gather your weapons and belongings," she said to the dwarves who were slowly coming to their senses, but still somewhat drowsy. "Tilda, Bain, take your daggers with you. You might need them."

"What is going on?" Bain asked as he moved to the edge of his bed and stared at Sigrid with wide fearful eyes. She could sense others watching her, waiting for her answer, and every thought she had about lying to her younger sibling fled out of her mind as quickly as they came.

"I don't know," she responded truthfully. "But it's nothing good."

Just then she heard it once again, much like everyone else, this time recognizing it for what it truly was.

A roar.

Her blood ran cold as she mulled over what type of creature could emit such a horrific sound, but she came up with only one, more or less, logical explanation and it didn't make her feel any better. In truth, the mere thought has rendered her speechless and almost motionless, taking her previous courage away, along with her ability to do anything.

"Dragon!" Legolas all but burst into the house. "They have truly awoken that damned drake!"

"How do you know?" She whispered in a strangely detached voice as she squeezed Tilda's shoulder with a hand that seemed to belong to someone else. The girl was shaking like a leaf and her face was almost white, but it was Sigrid who simply couldn't force herself to move anymore at this point, stiff with dread as she was.

"I saw it! The beast circles the sky and will be upon us soon," was Legolas' hurried response. He took notice of her catatonic state and walked swiftly to her. Taking a hold of her shoulders, he looked into her eyes, his own boring into hers as if he was trying to look into her very soul. "Sigrid, you need to focus. We need to leave. Now!"

His words shook her out of her stupor. She blinked a few times to centre herself before nodding her head at him to let him know that she understood. Only then did he let go of her and stepped back, so she could go and fetch her weapons. The house erupted into a flurry of movement as everyone moved about, trying to locate their things and pack what little possessions they had. Sigrid decided to leave everything behind, except for her weapons and a warm cloak, and she instructed her siblings to do the same.

When they were finally ready and exited the house, the town was already in an uproar. People were running about, screaming and pushing each other out of the way as they tried to reach their boats and escape from death itself, which was flying in circles above their heads and just about ready to strike for the first time. They got into Bard's boat without colliding with anyone, which was a miracle in and on itself, and the dwarves took to the two long wooden sticks that served as both oars and steers, pushing against the bottom of the narrow ditch with all the strength they had to get them out of Esgaroth before the drake decided to do more than simply fly around.

"Where is father?" Bain asked from where he sat huddled to Sigrid's side.

She didn't look at him, too aware of what he would be able to see in her eyes or on her face. A lie danced at the tip of her tongue, ready to be released, but she stopped herself once again from saying something she would surely regret later. Then again, was it so bad that she didn't want to see her little brother frightened and worried? No one could blame her for her words if they were spoken with good intensions behind them. The very last thing they needed right now was a child in hysterics.

"I don't know," she whispered as she bent down to lay a kiss on his head. "But he will be fine, Bain. You know he will."

Another roar filled the air, but this time it was closer and Sigrid gathered her siblings in her arms, ready to shield them with her own body, whether it would do some good or not. A wave of heat washed over her back and the screams of the townspeople turned into a horrifying cacophony of cries and howls of pain. She pressed the faces of Bain and Tilda to her shoulders as she observed a man ran down the docks, lit on fire like a torch and with his voice distorted in his agony.

The houses, the streets, the boats, and some of the people were burning with dragon's fire. The air smelled like smoked meat and she felt bile hit the back of her throat when she realized it came from those who were dying in the cursed flames.

People.

There were people burning alive.

Let us live through this, she prayed in her heart to whoever was willing to listen as she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. Let all of us survive it.

Their boat joisted as it came to a sudden halt, almost crashing into another raft as it brazed past them. She recognized the voice yelling commends and opened her eyes to see the sweaty red face of the Master. He was surrounded by his men and stacks upon stacks of gold, jewellery, and precious stones. The filthy rat was trying to save his goods and cared little for those who needed help, more concerned with his own head and his riches to offer assistance to his subjects who were calling to him from the streets and reaching out to him. She should have expected it, but it didn't stop her hate for this man from resurfacing.

She wasn't one to wish harm upon others and yet she hoped he wouldn't get to see the light of day ever again.

"What about Bard?!"

Her eyes widened. She turned to take a look over her shoulder and she saw Alfrid Lickspittle, the Master's faithful flunkey, as he leaned closer to the fetid governor so the man could hear him better. He hardly noticed that there were others within earshot, for he would have surely kept his mouth shut otherwise.

"Let him root in this cell for all I care!" The Master replied with spite before returning to barking orders at his rowers.

Her blood ran blood upon hearing those words.

Bard was somewhere in Lake-town, locked in a cell and unable to escape.

Her father was somewhere out there, in this hell of scorching wood and scalding heat, and he was going to die just like that man she had seen a mere moment ago.

She barely registered when Bain managed to extricate himself from her hold. A foreboding feeling set in the pit of her stomach as he stood up and looked down at her with something indistinguishable dancing in his dark hazel eyes. It lasted for less than a second, but it was enough for her to know what he intended to do.

"Bain…" She started and reached out for him, but he evaded her and jumped onto the nearest deck. He then rolled over, sprang to his feet, and broke into a sprint, as if the devil himself was hot on his heels.

"Bain!" She yelled after him, even though she knew he would be able to hear her now. "Bain!"

He was going to die in the fire, just like their father. She was going to lose them both to this madness and there was nothing she could do about it. There went her years of playing with bows and arrows, and waving daggers around. In the end, she was just as powerless as a newborn babe.

Someone squeezed her shoulder and she looked up into Legolas' bright blue eyes. He nodded his head, as if to convey some sort of a message to her, before he jumped off the boat as well, barely sparing her a glance over his shoulder.

"Legolas! No!"

But her voice got lost in the rucksack of noises before it could reach the elf's ears.

-o-o-o-

He wasn't sure what made him do it – what made him jump out of that boat and chase after Bain, thus putting his immortal life in grave danger for a mere human boy – but it probably had everything to do with Sigrid.

When he had heard her scream and saw the despair on her face, his body had moved on its own. There was a need in him, in his soul and in his heart, to protect her and help her no matter what. He couldn't understand the source of it. Just why was his reaction to her pain so violent, so powerful, and so very sudden? Then again he had learnt long ago to listen to his instincts. He trusted himself, even if said trust had ultimately guided him to pursue Sigrid's little brother and into the fire of a raging dragon.

A huff of breath escaped his lips as he ducked to the right, his shoulder colliding painfully with a wall of a nearest house, and barely avoided a collision with a bulky man who seemed to be completely oblivious to his surroundings in his desperation to flee. He was only one of many, trying to save his mortal life, and Legolas found it to be quite admirable, this desire to live that seemed to run through the veins of most Men.

There is not much of it in Elves, he thought as he resumed his chase, all the while keeping a steady eye on Bain as the boy pushed forward through the crowds with the grace and speed of a young stag.

His kin was not used to the idea of dying. The only thing wrong with immortality, in Legolas' opinion, was the fact that it often times made those blessed with it think that they were in fact immune to death. They were spirited and close to nature, so it made little sense that they didn't seem to notice the Mistress with her icy-cold fingers as she passed between them, ready to snatch their souls and deliver them to the Halls of Mandos. There was no desire in them to save something they thought was within their right to hold on to forever. Not all of Elves were this narrow-minded, of course. Legolas himself had no delusions as to what every battle could mean for him, even with the level of skill he possessed, as did most of the soldiers or those who had lived through war.

Yet it was quite different from the will of Men. Their lives were fragile, their lifespan so painfully short, and they still refused to give up. Maybe it was their mortality that made them so hopelessly cling to life, or maybe they were too stubborn for their own good. It was hard to determine, really, but it was surely something to admire.

He finally managed to catch the boy, jumping over a particularly narrow ditch and seizing him by the collar of his shirt.

"You won't help your father by rushing into danger, child," he admonished, completely ignoring the fact that Bain was trying to kick him and break free. He shifted his hand to the nape of the boy's neck, pressing his fingers with adequate force to make it painful, but not hard enough to leave a bruise. Bain stilled in his hold, his entire body shaking with every ragged breath he took. "Your sister is certain of your death. You should not have run."

"I don't have a choice!" He replied hotly. "Besides, I didn't ask you to follow me, elf! Let! Me! Go!"

Legolas exhaled loudly, thanking Eru that he had not been blessed with a younger brother if it meant so much headache and running around in pursue of hot-headed youths. His younger sister, Giliel, was a handful as it was and he couldn't imagine what it would have been like, was she born a boy instead, except that his childhood would have surely been filled with more worries.

"Where do you think your father is now?" He asked eventually and the boy stilled in his hold, apparently not expecting that question.

"If he managed to get out, he will be going for the tower. I need to get him the arrow." Legolas let him go, ready to catch him again if he decided to flee. Thankfully, Bain seemed to possess some sense about him, because he simply turned around to look at him. "If not, then he is still in the cells. They are near the town hall, in the centre of Esgaroth."

"Then we need to hurry. We will get that arrow you speak of and go find him," Legolas decided. "I will do what I can to help you, but you have to trust me and, above all else, listen to me. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir." The boy nodded swiftly.

"Then lead the way."

Legolas followed Bain, who lead him into the labyrinth of hidden pathways and passages, which were sometimes barely wide enough for them to walk through. They arrived to the boy's house within minutes. Once inside, Bain climbed onto the kitchen table and reached to the thick wooden beam over it that held bunches of different dried herbs, pulling something from the top of it. Legolas' eyes widened slightly as he beheld what he was quite sure was the famed Black Arrow, the last of the set that had been made by King Thror over a century ago. It was hardly any bigger than a regular arrow, though it looked much heavier. Forged from some sort of dark metal and with a twisted steel head, it looked more like a spear or a harpoon and not any less deadly.

Bain jumped off the table, his hand squeezed around the arrow so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. The boy and the elf nodded at each other before setting off to the centre of the town.

They didn't get far though.

"That's my dad!"

Legolas' eyes snapped to where Bain was pointing. There was a man perched on the top of the belfry. He was shooting at the dragon, but even though his aim was fair, the arrows never met their target and simply bounced off the beast's scales as if they were merely twigs.

There was scarcely any time to waste, so without exchanging any words, they made for the bell tower. Getting there proved to be easier than Legolas had anticipated, which was a welcomed surprise.

"Dad!" Bain yelled to get the man's attention as they finally reached the top of the tower after running up a seemingly never-ending staircase.

"Bain! What are you doing here?! You were supposed to leave! You were supposed to leave with your sisters!"

"I came to help you!"

"Nothing can stop it now, son… Nothing."

"This might!"

The boy held up the arrow and the man fell silent for a second before retrieving it from his son's hand.

"Thank you," he said, his voice thick with an emotion Legolas couldn't quite pin-point. "Now go. Get out of here. I will join you when…"

But he didn't get to finish the sentence as the dragon took this moment to bring his enormous tail down upon them. The tower swayed dangerously as the top level crumbled under the force of the blow, sending chunks of wood and metal flying. One of the wooden bits stuck Legolas in the face, making him lose his balance and knocking him off his feet. The sickening crunch that accompanied the strike, as well as the fountain of warm blood that coated his lips and chin almost immediately afterwards, made him acutely aware that his nose was broken. It was by pure luck that he had somehow managed to grab the edge of the lower platform and hold onto it, which stopped him from falling to his death. His ears were ringing and the pain he was currently experiencing was unbearable, but he couldn't very well give up now, so with the last bit of strength left he hoisted himself up on quivering arms and stood up. He felt a bit faint, but he could work with that.

In the meantime, the dragon positioned himself in their direct line of sight, his massive body enough to crush the houses he had landed on.

"Who are you that would stand against me?!" He bellowed, his gaze locked on Bard who was still holding the Black Arrow in his hand. The man reached for his long bow, but found it broken in half, completely useless.

"That is a pity." The fire-drake taunted, his deep voice carrying a note of malicious amusement at their predicament. "What will you do now, Bowman? You are forsaken. No help will come."

The dragon's attention shifted.

"Hmm, is that your child?"

Legolas' head snapped in the direction of Bain who was half lying, half sitting on the ground. His eyes were open wide and his entire body was shaking like a leaf during a particularly vicious storm. It was obvious that he was frightened.

"You cannot save him from the fire. He will burn!"

Something happened just then. It was exactly like that moment when he had decided to help the boy, no matter what. The same need to protect that child, as well as his father, arose within Legolas and in that single second of realization he knew that whatever he was starting to feel for Sigrid was more powerful than anything he could have ever imagined. He reached for his own bow, which was thankfully intact, and offered it to Bard. The man looked as him in obvious shock, but took the item without hesitation.

Smaug didn't seem to be overly concerned with this development though, even as Bard moved to the centre of the platform the three of them were standing on and aimed the arrow.

"An elf, a man, and a child… Tell me, how shall you challenge me?"

There was a shallow scale on the left side of the beast's breast that Legolas could spot easily, though he highly doubted he would have been able to hit it in his current state. He could only hope that Bard was able to see it as well.

"You have nothing left but your death!"

Just then Smaug roared and moved towards them, the lower part of his neck glowing menacingly as he prepared to breathe fire once again. Bard released the arrow a split second later and it hit its mark. Only partially aware of what he was doing, Legolas jump to Bain's side, embracing the boy and, in the process, shielding him with his own body just as the tower was knocked over by the wailing beast.

The sensation of falling seemed to last forever until at last his back hit the icy surface of the lake with enough force to knock the breath out of his lungs and he disappeared underneath it with Bain holding onto him for dear life. His last thoughts before it happened were of Sigrid, her gentle smile and her beautiful eyes his beam of light in the rapidly approaching darkness.

-o-o-o-

"Lass, they will be just fine…"

She completely ignored the dwarf who has spoken, her eyes watching the shore with a sense of purpose. Tilda, bundled up in two thick woollen blankets, was standing next to her, her small arms wrapped tightly around Sigrid's waist. They were both waiting, as it was the only thing left for them to do, which it might have just as well been the case.

It was already past dawn. With every passing minute her hope that the three men she held dear to her heart had somehow survived the inferno of the dragon slipped away bit by bit. The last of the survivors had reached the shore a while ago, or so she has been informed, and yet she couldn't stop looking.

Maybe hope was truly the mother of the stupid, but Sigrid would rather be called an idiot than give up.

She glanced over her shoulder, seeking out the dwarves who were getting ready to depart and go over the lake to hopefully join their kin in the Lonely Mountain. It was a wise choice on their part, since the folk of Esgaroth were still too busy with their own affairs to pay them any mind now. Sigrid knew though that it would soon change and then the situation would probably turn nasty pretty quickly if the dwarves were still there by that time. Although she was furious with them, she couldn't force herself to wish them ill. At the same time she had no intention to help them escape, because all this destruction and all those deaths were essentially their fault.

The two older dwarves, whose names she didn't remember, as well as Fili, were packing their meagre belongings to her father's old trusty boat, while Kili, who was standing a short distance away, was talking with Tauriel in hushed tones. She couldn't hear what they were talking about, but judging by Tauriel's body language and the expression on her face it wasn't a nice conversation. The she-elf looked about ready to bolt. Guilt and regret were clearly visible in her eyes as she gazed down at the young dwarf. Kili didn't quite seem to notice it though, since he was smiling at her softly and was currently pressing something into her hand before bending slightly to lay a kiss against her knuckles.

Sigrid's eyes widened slightly at the unexpected display of affection.

She remembered clearly Legolas' words about Tauriel for the previous morning. The she-elf had someone waiting for her back in the forest, some mysterious elf who was in love with her. It made her realize for the first time that Kili probably knew nothing about it and she felt a bit of pity for the poor fellow.

"Kili, come on!" Fili called as he climbed into the boat.

"One moment!"

"Lad, we need to go now!" One of the older two said with an edge to his voice. If Kili stalled a moment longer, they clearly intended to leave without him.

Apparently coming to the same conclusion as she did, the young dwarf once again kissed Tauriel's hands before running into the water and then getting into the boat with the help of his companions.

"Da! Bain!"

Her sister's excited shout brought her gaze back to the shore and away from the scene she has just witnessed.

A smile broke across her face as her eyes fell upon Bard, Bain, and Legolas, who were slowly making their way towards them through the murky lake water. She held Tilda long enough to let them reach the solid ground before she let her go. The girl ran to her father and her older brother with a joyful cry, throwing herself at them and embracing them just as she started to sob.

Sigrid stayed where she was. She observed the reunion of her small family with a fond gentle smile, but she couldn't bring herself to join them as she seemed to have lost any and all ability to move all of a sudden.

Legolas stopped right in front of her a moment later. He looked absolutely horrible. His hair was singed at the ends, his nose was obviously broken and badly bruised, the lower side of his face was still covered with remains of his own blood, and he was soaked to the bone. Yet, despite it all, he looked absolutely perfect.

"Legolas…" She whispered, her voice coming out slightly broken.

There was a moment of deafening silence that seemed to stretch on forever as they simply stared at each other. Then he reached out and his icy cold fingers gently brushed against her cheek. The gesture and the coolness of his touch were enough to shake her out of her stupor. She swallowed thickly to get a hold of herself before she took the blanket from her shoulders and threw it over his. Moving her hands up and down his arms in an effort to warm him up, she almost completely missed the look he gave her.

"What?" She asked as her cheeks turned a rosy shade under his intense gaze. "Do I have something on my face?"

He didn't respond. Instead he wrapped his arms around her, bringing her so close to him that she could feel his every breath and hear every single beat of his heart where her ear was pressed against his chest. For a moment she was too stunned to react. Then, hesitantly at first, she returned his embrace.

"Eru channon…" She heard him whisper over and over again to the crown of her head. It sounded like a prayer, but she was too comfortable and, at the same time, too afraid to break the moment to ask him about it.

If she were to stay like this forever, she wouldn't have complained one bit. She felt safe and protected in the confines of his strong arms. No evil could reach her here; no harm would come her way.

After some time, his hands came to rest on her cheeks as he put some distance between them once again. His eyes scanned her face intently, as if he was looking for something.

"Are you hurt, lirimaer?"

"Asks the elf with a broken nose," she said with a shake of her head. "It sounds like a beginning for a bad joke."

"An elf with a broken nose walks into a tavern…" The corners of his mouth lifted into a smirk, when she snorted. "I admit it does sound amusing."

"Right?" She moved her hands from his lower back to his chest, her fingers curling around the lapels of his wet green jacket. "To answer your question… I'm alright."

"Good," he responded simply before he drew her in for another hug.

She could feel the soft kisses he bestowed upon her brow and her temple, as each and every one of them made her heart skip a beat. Then he simply leant forward, pressing his forehead lightly against her shoulder.

Time could have stopped at that very moment and Sigrid sincerely doubted she would have noticed.

There were things she couldn't understand, things that were strange and new, and slightly terrifying about this rather bizarre situation. The force of her feelings for Legolas was unlike anything she has ever experienced in her life, yet being close to him wasn't strange. It was akin to finally coming home after a long tiring day. There was a sense of belonging, of rightness, of dreams coming true, when he held her in his arms, and she didn't want to ever be apart from him again.

Make him yours, she heard a quite whisper echo her head. Bond with him. Make him yours.

Her breath hitched.

Without giving it much thought, she pulled away from him, her eyes snapping open. When they looked at each other a second later, she knew almost instantly that he must have heard something similar. His pupils were dilated so much that all that remained of his irises were thin rings of bright blue. He was also panting and his hands, which were now holding her upper arms in a vice-like grip, were shaking slightly.

"Sigrid? Is everything alright?"

She blinked rapidly a few times before shifting her gaze from Legolas to Bard.

"Y-yes," she mumbled, still somewhat dazed. "We… Um, yeah. Everything's fine."

Her father didn't look convinced. In fact, he appeared to be ready to conduct some sort of questioning or start arguing with her. Thankfully, Legolas chose that moment to snap out of whatever spell they had both fell under. He introduced himself to Bard formally with a shallow bow and a completely blank face before walking away to talk with Tauriel.

Everything afterwards happened in a blur.

Bard was voted the new leader, since the Master had apparently perished in the flames.

It was decided that they should gather up all that they had and move to ruins of Dale to find shelter.

A troop of elves arrived at one point as well and one of them exchanged a few heated words with Legolas before they went away.

Someone pressed an apple into Sigrid's numb hands.

Bain and Tilda said something to her and she simply nodded her head.

People passed her by.

People nudged her out of the way.

It hardly mattered.

She wasn't aware of most of it as her eyes kept drifting to Legolas, who wouldn't even look her way now.

For the first time in the last two days she felt empty and this shallowness within her very soul made her want to cry.

Translations:
lirimaer – lovely one
Eru channon – Thank Eru (an Elvish equivalent of "thank God")