Chapter Sixteen

Refugees

Not soon after Elladan had blown the horn, Elrohir rode to them along with the three other horses. Asta clung onto Sírdal's neck and the horse stayed put, sensing the girl's need for its comfort.

Glorfindel had managed to talk Silas into letting him wrap up his leg and after that, the boy had passed out again from sheer exhaustion.

Tears burned behind Asta's eyelids as she tried not to think about what the boy had said. The very name of the town Fayburn brought mixed memories emotion-wise to her mind. On one hand, it had been the first settlement she had stumbled upon in this strange world but on the other, she had also suffered during those times she had spent on the town's streets.

Asta looked up when she heard rapidly approaching hooves. Not soon after, Aragorn rode into view almost jumped from the saddle mid-movement as he saw the others alive and well.

"What has happened? Why did you blow the horn?!"

In a few long strides, the man had reached Asta, pulling the reluctant girl away from her horse as his eyes scanned her from head to toe, searching for any signs of injuries. She pushed his hands away. "I am fine!" she snapped.

If Aragorn was shocked at the sudden sharp tone his surrogate daughter had absorbed, he did not show it. Instead, he pulled the girl against him in a tight embrace, as if he needed confirmation that she was really there and alright.

"Adar…", Asta whimpered as she quickly wrapped her own arms around him. But this time not even Aragorn could comfort away the distraught feelings swirling inside her.

Everything seemed to happen all too fast from that point forward. Glorfindel and the twins briefed Aragorn about the situation, and Silas, after coming to once more, seemed to trust Aragorn much more than he had trusted the elves and Asta.

He told them that the night before last, something or someones had attacked Fayburn. Starting from the higher ones, almost every building around the market square had been on fire by the time Silas' family had awoken. People had been running in every direction and there had been smoke, heat and screams everywhere.

Silas had gotten separated from his family at some point and as the morning came he had found himself in a group of people - men, women, children, old and young all the like - running from the ruins of what had once been a home. At some point, somebody had suggested that the boy, due to being quick on his feet, would run ahead of them and search help.

•-•-•-•

"I want to come as well!"

Aragorn ragged a hand through his hair, staring down at the girl who glared right back at him. She wasn't about to back down. Not this time. She would not be sent back to Imladris with Elrohir to get Elrond's help.

"We are losing time we do not have, Aragorn!" Glorfindel intervened, his voice sharp and demanding. Silas sat in the saddle in front of the golden-haired elf as it had been decided the boy would ride with him.

Aragorn gritted his teeth but leaned down a bit in his own saddle, offering Asta his hand. "We have to ride with haste. Come, Asta, you must ride with me this time."

Asta tried not to show how satisfied she was that she had not been made to go back home. Judging by the look on her guardian's face though, she wasn't so sure she wouldn't regret her stubbornness at some point. She waved to Elrohir in farewell as Aragorn urged his steed to move, following Elladan, Glorfindel and the boy who was going to show them where the others from Fayburn were.

•-•-•-•

A young woman pushed her dark locks behind her ear from the sweaty skin on her cheek. She flinched, grimacing, and her arm wrapped around her pregnant belly.

"Are you alright?" came the distressed voice of a much older woman. Her face was wrinkled and grey hair fell on her back. Both of the women were covered in sweat and soot, their clothes reeking of smoke.

"I'm fine!" Inga snapped and refused the arm the older woman was trying to offer. Taking a glance behind her, she could see that it was not only her who had difficulties keeping on with their journey. Where were they even headed? Absentmindedly, the young woman's hand started to move over her stomach. She was already well on her third trimester and it was only a matter of time before the baby would come out.

The elderly woman's mouth set in a thin line as she turned her head away and reluctantly pulled back the arm she had offered for help. Inga closed her eyes as she realised the had offended the woman. Sometimes she swore the old woman seemed more like a child than a mother of an adult man.

Inga placed her hand on the other woman's arm. "I am sorry, Cali. I shouldn't have snapped at you. I'm just tired…", she let out a laboured breath as she felt the baby kick the inner side of her stomach. A small smile graced Inga's lips despite the stressful situation they were in. "And this little kicker is driving me mad today."

Cali's wrinkled hand tapped her daughter-in-law's gently as the expression on her face softened. "I know, I know", she said.

Inga pulled the older woman into a hug. "We will make it out of this alright? I refuse to have my baby out here."

At that, Cali chuckled. "I know, I know", she repeated.

Inga's face fell suddenly. She hesitated. "Do you… Do you think he is alright?"

Cali took both of the younger woman's hands in hers and gave them a comforting squeeze. "You listen to me, Inga. My son is not one to abandon his wife and unborn child. I know my son. He will fight to get back to you."

Inga wiped some tears on her sleeve, even though the residue smoke in the clothes only served to make her eyes sting even more.

"And you, Cali, you as well. Damien would not leave his mother behind either."

•-•-•-•

Asta wasn't sure how long they rode on so fast that one would have thought they were chasing something. Which, in a way, they were if the girl thought about it. They were chasing down the rest of the people who had managed to escape from burning Fayburn.

"Over there!" came the call of Glorfindel as he steered his steed to their left. At first, despite and because of their speed, Asta could not see whatever it was that had caught the elves' attention. When she saw it, a small part of her wished she had gone back to Imladris.

Ahead of them was a worm. Worm made of dozens of people. Even from this distance, she could see that many of them were hurt. The closer they rode, the more details the eleven-year-old was able to distinguish. The people who were slowly walking down the road were of all ages. Some of them limping or cradling their arms. A lot of them nursed burns. Their clothes were darkened from the smoke and soot that also covered their faces.

The worm halted, it's formation breaking as more people noticed the riders coming their way. Asta could see surprised looks being changed as Aragorn directed Flicker to slow down and eventually stop.

As soon as he could, Aragorn landed from the saddle once again. Hastily, he turned to face Asta and helped her down as well. The girl was visibly shaking when he placed his hands on her shoulders.

"Stay here", he ordered.

Asta's face had paled and she could only nod. Seeing all those injured people made her want to cry. At the same time, she felt like the contents of her stomach would come out.

Aragorn pressed a quick kiss on her forehead. "Be brave, iellig."

Asta watched as he then made his way towards the closest group of people. She looked up when a hand came to rest briefly on top of her head. Glorfindel's lips tilted upwards in a quick reassuring but tight and sad smile as he nudged Silas to stand next to Asta.

"Stay here, both of you", the elf said, then leaned in closer to Asta so that only she could hear his next words. "Keep an eye out for the boy and don't let him hurt that leg more. Would you do so for me?"

Asta only nodded in response and Glorfindel slipped past the two children to join Aragorn and Elladan who were speaking to an old man and few women.

Turning her attention to the boy who stood rigid and pale to her right, keeping his injured foot slightly off from the ground. Asta bit her lip. Should she say something to him? It had been some time since she had been around anyone close to her own age and she wasn't sure what to do. It didn't help that the current situation wasn't exactly a good place for trying to make friends. She watched how Silas' eyes searched the crowd ahead of them, the expression on his face turning more alarmed by the second.

The girl was just about to open her mouth to ask what was wrong when the boy spoke. "I cannot see Papa", he said, voice thick.

Asta had to rack her brain. 'Papa' had something to do with parents, right? Silas turned to face her. "I have to find him!" and before she could really even comprehend his words, the boy took off. Walking briskly, albeit limping, he went towards the people who had now scattered around and formed smaller groups, most of them were sitting on the ground.

"Silas!" Asta hissed after the boy making him stop and turn. "We were told to stay here. And your leg is hurt!"

Silas lifted his chin up, fists clenching. "The elf is not my father - he cannot tell me what to do!" with that, he turned around once more.

For a moment, Asta stared mouth open after the boy - then she let out a groan. I'm in trouble anyway so why not add to it, she thought as she sprinted after Silas. "Wait! Let me help you find your Papa."

After a moment of watching Silas limp around and trying and failing to hide the pain, Asta sighed grabbed the boy's arm. "Lean on me, so you do not hurt that leg more." At first, he looked like he would refuse but then he draped his arm over her shoulder.

The two children navigated their way through the people, Asta nervously glancing around as she tried to make sure they avoided crossing paths with the elves or Aragorn. Every now and then Silas called out for his father but no response came.

"Papa!" Silas' voice had a desperate note in it by now and Asta saw that boy wiping his eyes with his sleeve. He faced her and the girl was surprised when the boy grabbed her by the arms and shook her. "He's not here!"

Her first instinct was to push the boy away - or slap him - and she got as far as raising her hand to do so before she stopped herself. She could injure him further. Silas seemed to realise the wrongness in his actions as he was quick to pull his hand away, taking a wobbly step backwards.

"Are you sure your father was here before?" Asta asked carefully and readjusted her cloak.

Silas raked a hand through his hair, face scrunching up. "N-no…"

Asta didn't know what to do. Helplessly, she looked around them but no one really paid attention to a couple of children. Even though Asta saw an elderly woman glance curiously at her with a frown.

"Sorry", came the sound of a shallow voice suddenly behind Silas, making both children face an elderly man. He was limping and his lips were as chapped and wrinkled as his skin. His eyes were on Silas. "You're looking for your father, are you not, boy?"

"Y-yes, sir", Silas said.

"Is your father not the carpenter?"

Asta mouthed the word quietly under her breath. What was a carpenter? She saw sure she had heard that word before. It didn't help that the man's voice was thick that Asta had trouble distinguishing words from each other. She was sure she knew this one. As she pondered over the meaning of the strange but familiar word, Silas' eyes brightened.

"He is! Sir, have you seen him?"

The elderly man ran a tongue over his chapped lips and blew his nose to a soot-covered handkerchief he had taken out of his pocket before he graced the children with an answer. "The carpenter went back with the rest of the men who were able, to see if anything could be salvaged from the ruins."

Asta grabbed Silas' arm when the boy's knees buckled under him as relief flooded in. He leaned heavily against her and the girl had to really work in keeping both of them up. As Silas seemed to be in no shape to thank the elderly man, she did so in his stead. The man nodded and then limped away from them, mumbling something about finding water on his way.

"Asta!"

She flinched at the sound of Aragorn's voice. Despite his weakened state, Silas' lips quirked upwards in a quick teasing smirk. "You are in trouble."

This time, Asta pushed him away from her, leaving the boy to try and catch his balance for a few seconds. "If you do not remember, they told us both to stay", she said.

The smirk dropped. Silas glanced nervously towards the direction of the man he knew to be the one some people in Fayburn called Strider. He seemed to be like someone who did not take lightly to disobedience. Silas swallowed as he became nervous. He knew his Papa would definitely have something to say about not doing as he was told. He began to think that maybe this Strider was similar to his Papa in that way.

Aragorn reached the children and Asta saw he was wary, worried and relieved but had the familiar air of strictness about him which told her she and Silas were in on a lecture of their lives. Well, she couldn't really speak for the boy, only for herself, but still.

Silas and Asta both let out a small yelp as Aragorn grabbed the children by the nape of their neck and brought them closer to him. Leaning down on their level, his eyes flickered between theirs.

"Were you not told to stay up on the hill and wait for us?"

Asta looked down, her guilt taking over her, and Silas was too nervous to answer.

The man's brow rose. "Well?"

"We were-", Asta began to say, her voice gaining an apologetic tone, but Silas interrupted, his voice shaking a smidgen.

"It was my fault, sir", he said and met Aragorn's gaze. "I-I wanted to find my father and Asta only came along because she tried to stop me. I'm sorry, sir."

Eyes narrowing a little, Aragorn kept the boy's eyes locked on his for a moment longer until he turned those grey eyes on Asta, who met his gaze evenly. "Is this true what Silas tells me, Asta?"

"Yes", she replied and then glanced at the boy next to her. "But I did not follow him only to stop him. I… I wanted to help him find his Papa."

Aragorn nodded, clasping a hand on each child's shoulder. "Silas, I understand you wanting to find your father but the last thing we need is for you two to get lost or you to hurt your leg worse. Until we find your father, I expect nothing less than perfect behaviour out of you, understood?"

Turning his gaze to the ground, Silas dutifully offered an "Understood."

"Asta, the next time I tell you to stay and wait for me, what shall you do?"

Feeling a knot in her stomach, Asta ran a tongue over her lips. "I shall stay put. I am sorry, Adar."

"I know you are. You are forgiven- you both are - on the condition that you keep yourself out of trouble for the rest of the day."

"We will", Asta promised, a hint of a smile appearing on her face. "Even if it means I have to tie Silas to a tree."

"Hey!" the boy protested, and the look on his face was a priceless mix of surprise and offence.

Aragorn chuckled. "Come along then, you wild beasts. I know the perfect place where you can stay out of trouble." He began to steer the children towards back towards the small hill where they had left in the first place. Then he thought of something and added, "and if either of you is tied to a tree when I come to get you, you have another thing coming your way."

•-•-•-•

"Is Strider your father?"

Asta pulled her knees up, leaning back slightly to gain a better look at Silas' face. The boy had lied down on the grass, his eyes closed. Up until now, she had thought he was asleep. It was getting late, and Glorfindel, Aragorn and Elladan, it seemed to her, were all about the place - helping people to light fires and tend to their injuries as best as they could with the limited supplies they had.

Elladan had said they expected help to come during the night when he stopped by a little earlier to see that the children got something to eat.

Silas opened his eyes as Asta didn't answer him. "It's just that you called him 'adar' and that means father in Elvish, doesn't it?"

"It does", she confirmed. As if on cue, her hand went to the bracelet she still wore.

"I did not know he had children."

Asta pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. Could she tell Silas that she was Aragorn's ward? Didn't her calling Aragorn 'adar' kind of already give that away? Besides, she doubted that a boy who was about the same age as she, could do much harm with a piece of information. Elrond and Erestor had told her that Aragorn's real name, and now her own connection to that name, was still something that one should not go telling everyone in the world about less they were looking for unwanted attention. Now I'm getting ahead of myself. Silas probably didn't even know Strider's real identity.

"Well, he has", she said, her voice almost defensive - much to her surprise.

Silas raised his hand in a calming gesture. "It was just an observation."

The girl sighed. "You are not wrong, Silas. I am not… Ar- I mean Strider - is not my real father."

"Oh!"

There was a silence between them for a while, Silas hesitating to ask a question that was burning on his tongue.

"You want to know what happened to my… parents, do you not?"

Feeling dumbstruck, Silas began to stammer. "I-I didn't say that- I mean- yes… I was thinking about it - You don't need to tell me anything you don't want to!"

"It is okay", Asta said. "My real parents died a long time ago."

Silas looked down and pulled some grass from the ground. "I'm sorry… we lost my mama when I was little."

Asta found herself reaching out for him. She placed her hand on top of his. "I'm sorry too."

Approaching feet and the sound of heavy breathing made the two children jump up to see who was coming their way. It would be dark real soon and Asta's eyes already seemed to have some trouble seeing around.

"Who is there?" She called out, her hand reaching for her dagger.

"Is it - no, it can't be. There was-", a woman paused and they heard her breathing quite heavily. "A girl I knew, who sounded exactly like you, but she didn't speak our language."

Asta froze.

It had been almost a year since she had last heard that voice. She had never forgotten the one person who had been the first to help her in this strange world.

"Inga?" she asked, almost afraid that she was wrong.

"Asta?"

And finally, Asta could make out the shape of the young woman approaching her and Silas. An older woman was coming up the hill just behind the younger one.

Inga halted as her eyes set on the eleven-year-old girl. The hair was longer, she was a little taller and not just skin and bones as she remembered. Those eyes though, she would recognize those eyes anywhere. Closing the gap between her and the girl, Inga reached out a hand.

"I never thought I'd see you again, Asta", she breathed out, her eyes watering. "Look at me now, getting all emotional again."

Asta took Inga's hand on hers as a smile brightened her face. "I missed you, Inga."

"Oh! Would you look at that, speaking full sentences all on your own!"

Asta's grin only widened momentarily. Her eyes settled on Inga's large belly, eyes widening. "You… you are…" she gestured at Inga pregnant form, not remembering the word for pregnancy.

The woman's lips quirked into a warm, proud smile, that of an expecting woman who was about to enter motherhood, as her hand rested on her belly. "A lot has happened in a year. To you as well, I'd imagine", Inga said, "and you are going to tell me all about it, aren't you?"

Asta, still in sort of shock to find out Inga was pregnant, could only nod and reassure the woman that, of course, she would. She had so much to tell her!

This chapter has been a pain to write for some reason, but I figured I'm done fighting with it - let's move along with the story!

Thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, favorited and/or followed this story - you all rock! 3

I hope you all stay safe and healthy during these challenging times! :)