Archive of Our Own

January 31^st 2016

It was a good day, as good as days get at the moment anyway. We’ve been worried about the harshness of the winter for a while now, but the last town we stumbled across hadn’t been entirely looted by other like us. We were able to find new coats and shoes for most of the convoy.

There were a lot of corpses about, but we managed to reach the jeep and be driving away before they caught us. Thank god they can’t run like we can. The problem is that they move in packs. You can get ambushed and overwhelmed easily.

I’m going to start making most of the convoy stay well clear when we go in for a supplies grab like that. I don’t want any of the children anywhere near the towns, there are always too many corpses there, it’s too dangerous.

I wouldn’t let Thranduil in there either. But I just tell myself that he’s actually a better fighter than me and probably doesn’t want me in there anymore than I want him in the melee. I think we need to start taking it in turns to be part of the raiding parties though, just in case. We can’t leave the kids alone.

Its Sigrid’s birthday soon, she’s going to be twelve. Although to be honest I think I’m the only one keeping track of the days now. Next town we are in for supplies I am going to find her something. She’s getting too old, the reality of the situation won’t be able to be kept from her much longer, if it even is now.  

But the kids still somehow find a way to laugh. It’s amazing, the resilience of children. I think their presence is what keeps a lot of the convoy going, stops a lot of people from giving up. Sometimes you could look at them playing and smiling in the quiet of the woods and for a second, you can imagine that nothing hasn’t happened, that the world hasn’t turned to shit.

But then there’s a sighting of some of the undead and they sigh and scurry off into the cars and jeeps and caravans and we move again.

But you know, that they’ll smile again tomorrow. And it doesn’t make it okay. But it does make it easier to bear.

The adults are harder, we know the reality, I still believe we will get through this. With all my heart I believe we will survive it, it can’t go on forever, it just can’t. But every day I see the light go out of another’s eyes. They stop believing there will ever be an end. Grim determination to protect the family and friends in the convoy replaces hope.

I don’t want to see that happen to Thranduil. I can’t imagine a world without his smile.

It snowed today, and everyone was worried because it would slow us down. But in the brief safety of the forest all I could remember was mine and Thranduil’s first dance, out in the snow under the stars.

So I took his hands and coaxed him into dancing with me and he must have remembered too because he smiled and kept smiling for the rest of the day.

It was a good day.

Thranduil shut the diary when a tear fell from his eye and smudged some of Bard’s chicken scratch writing.

He cuddled the dirty and battered journal to his chest and silently cried himself to sleep, he didn’t want to let the children hear him.

They were woken early, before dawn as they usually where, to pack up the convoy and start moving. It was dangerous to stay in one place for very long. The general rule was that you should always assume there is something on our scent and closing it.

Nights weren’t very restful anymore.

Night were cold and lonely.

Sometimes Tilda or Legolas or Bain or Sigrid was crawl in with him. He wasn’t sure if they were seeking comfort or giving it. Probably both. They held onto each other.

Bard’s words cut at him, the children didn’t smile any more. He didn’t smile any more.

But the convoy was moving out, Aragorn shouting things outside about them needing to get on the road. So Thranduil got up, leaving the children sleeping in their bunks for now and started the caravan.

They’d lost their jeep when they’d– when they’d lost –

They’d lost their jeep.

When they came across an eerily preserved caravan shop in the middle of nowhere Nori had hotwired a few of them. They didn’t want too many, too much fuel. But they had given one to Thranduil and Bard, probably because of the children. Elrond and Lindir shared it now as well, though they had been reluctant to encroach on Thranduil and the children’s space. Maybe it was out of sympathy. Thranduil didn’t care, winter was coming around again. At least they would be warm.

The children kept Thranduil from going numb. They kept him alive. They needed him.

But this wasn’t a life.

This wasn’t anything.

Elrond and Lindir climbed into the caravan and Thranduil pulled away, following the cars in front. Lindir went to the back to find a bed, they’d been on watch for the last few hours.

Elrond sat quietly next to Thranduil. When the world had first started to be ravaged by this disease, when they were still figuring out how to survive, how to get the convoy to work, Elrond had tried to comfort everyone, like he was still the advice filled friend he had been before all this started. Then Elladan and Elrohir had been ripped to shreds in front of him.

Now they just sat quietly together.

Thranduil was holding on for the children. Arwen and Lindir were stopping Elrond from giving up.

But they both knew it was hopeless, in the end.

Their numbers were cut down by one or two every few months. It was only a matter of time.

They had no words of comfort for each other.

“Come in Thranduil, over.” Came Aragorn’s crackly voice through the radio.

“Yes.” Thranduil replied, he could not be bothered with radio etiquette anymore.

“I think we’re going to need to stop off in the next town, we’re running low on food and medicine.” Aragorn told him.

“Understood.” Thranduil sighed.

“Tauriel is scouting the area, but to be honest I think we’re going to have to stop even if it’s going to be hard.” Aragorn explained.

“Yeah.” Thranduil agreed, they hadn’t stopped for a while, he had been worried about their stores as well. They couldn’t afford to wait much longer, and there wasn’t any guarantee the next town wouldn’t be worse.

“How big a raiding party do you think we want?” Aragorn asked, he still ran everything past Thranduil, even though it had always been Bard making these decisions, not him. They had expected Thranduil to lead, after, after it happened.

Aragorn had stepped up when Thranduil hadn’t, couldn’t. He was only still here because of the children. 

“Six, at most, you don’t want to draw attention. We’ll need to be stealthy. I’ll come.” Thranduil told him. “You and Arwen, Tauriel, Feren and Haldir. We need to get in and out not draw attention.”

He sounded like Bard. He missed him so much.

Sometimes force was better, this was not going to be one of those times.

“I was thinking the same thing. We’ll pull up a few miles out and pile into my jeep.” Aragorn agreed.

“Alright.”

Thranduil set the radio back down and sighed.

“Elrond, I need you to drive.” Thranduil told him, swapping over so Thranduil could go wake up the children.

He always told them he loved them before he went on a raid.

“Kids, wake up.” Thranduil murmured softly, brushing Legolas’ hair back and squeezing Sigrid’s arm gently, Sigrid and Tilda tucked together in one bunk and Legolas and Bain in the other.

“Ada?” Sigrid asked groggily as her siblings started to stir as well.

“Morning my hearts.” Thranduil whispered, petting heads and comforting them as best he could. “I’m going on a raid soon, but I love you and I will see you later.”

Immediately he had four pairs of arms thrown around his neck and four little voices begging him not to go.

“Please ada, stay.”

“I don’t want you to go.”

“Why does it have to be you?”

“That’s what da said.”

They were all crying. It didn’t matter, he had to pull his weight.

Tilda and Legolas wouldn’t let go, Sigrid had curled up and turned away, Bain looked helpless. When they stopped the caravan Elrond extracted Tilda and Legolas from him, holding them tight like they needed.

“You look after them.” Thranduil said firmly. Elrond looked guilty.

“I could go, I could go instead.” Elrond told him.

“No.” Thranduil cut him off.

They all knew why Elrond wasn’t allowed in the raids anymore. After the death of the twins he had become too reckless, like he was begging to get killed. And even if he wasn’t he was the only doctor they had. They couldn’t risk him, even if he seemed happy enough to risk himself.    

Thranduil left the van before Elrond could protest more, picking up his deadly swords and strapping a gun to his hip.

The gun wasn’t for the corpses, it was to avoid becoming one.

Perhaps it seemed strange that he used swords, but he was highly skilled with them, and as he pointed out to his fellow raiders when they gave him curious looks, they did not run out of ammunition.

The chosen raiders piled into the jeep with Aragorn and Arwen and when Tauriel reached them and slung herself in they got moving.

“How does it look Tau?” Arwen asked as Aragorn sped along.

“Not great but hopefully doable.” Tauriel answered, one shotgun on her back and two small guns strapped to her legs, but her favourite was the crossbow.

“How not great is not great?” Haldir pressed, checking his gun chambers, he had a nasty gash on his face from the last raid.

“Just a step away from overrun.” Tauriel told them, Thranduil still found it strange seeing her with such short hair, she had sliced it off when they lost Kili. She had been different since then, hardened.

“Wonderful.” Feren grimaced as he sharpened his knives.

“But they huddle in groups, are not spread out, and are fucking stupid so I think we can do it. And because of the concentration of corpses the shops look all but untouched. It could be a gold mine.” Tauriel reasoned, and they supposed she had a point.

“Okay remember the aim is in and out without being seen. Your life is still more important than the supplies.” Aragorn told them firmly, even though they all knew how desperately they needed these supplies.

“We’ll hit the supermarket, should have everything we need. Head in the back and quietly get rid of any corpses in our way. I want full packs you hear me.” Arwen ordered them somehow gently as was her way.

They all had a decent sized rucksack, if they could fill them all then with rationing they should be okay for another week or two.

Thranduil tuned out as they talked. He was the most experienced raider even if he was spared from it more nowadays. He wasn’t interested in the conversation.

They left the jeep far enough out that they shouldn’t be heard approaching but close enough to make a quick getaway if need be. They were the stealthiest of the people they had, all but silent as they snuck up to the back of the supermarket, creeping in the back door.

The backroom was blissfully clear of corpses, but the main store was unlikely to be. They found most of the medicine in the back room, and Haldir headed back to the car with his rucksack and several plastic bags full. That way he could wait ready to drive them away quickly.

The rest of them pressed on, Feren quietly took out a corpse stood near the door they came through and they fanned out down the aisles, grabbing food that should last them a while.

It went well at first, then Thranduil heard a very loud crash that was most definitely not made by one of them, they were all too careful for that.

After that, unsurprisingly, all hell broke loose. They had lost all hope of stealth and now it was a case of grabbing what they could rather than necessarily what they wanted and getting back to the jeep as fast as they could.

Thranduil threw various cans of whatever into his rucksack and slung it back onto his shoulders, swords at the ready as he came around the aisle to find Tauriel trying to hold back a large group with just her crossbow and knives.

Thranduil ran down the aisle and joined him, trying not to look at them. He was always scared one of them would be Bard. He wouldn’t be able to do what he must if he was.

But he shouldn’t be thinking about it.

He hadn’t given up hope.

He hadn’t been there when Bard disappeared, everyone thought he was dead but no one had seen him die.

Thranduil didn’t believe it.

It was a fool’s hope but then he was a fool.

Bard was lost, he did not believe that he was gone, not for a moment.

He would find him. He would find him again.

He had to.

Thranduil fought with deadly elegance as Tauriel slashed and stabbed with his daggers, leaving behind a large pile of re-dead corpses as they slowly edged their way backwards towards the door.

“How are we going to get out of here without being killed?!” Tauriel shouted, knowing they couldn’t risk turning their backs to run in this close quarters.

Thranduil thought as he took down another two corpses with decapitating strokes to the neck.

“I don’t know.” He shouted back.

Bard had been the one with the plans.

“What would Bard do!?” Tauriel yelled and Thranduil for a second wanted to turn his sword on Tauriel. No one said his name anymore. Not to Thranduil. The only exception was the children.

Not anyone who was with him when it happened.

They didn’t get to say his name anymore.

But Thranduil forced down his anger, his rage. And he thought. He thought about what Bard would do.

“We need to knock the things off the shelves all down the aisle. Up the aisle a bit there is camping gear. Matches and gasoline. We need to find the others first, let them know.” Thranduil told him, they could light it up, then they’d take some of them down as well as escape.

That was a plan Bard would be proud of.

“I can hold them back by myself for a moment.” Tauriel said, he was out of breath and they were struggling with the two of them. But he needed to find the others.

“I will only be a moment.” Thranduil promised. “You ready?”

“Yeah, go!” Tauriel told him and Thranduil dashed back down the aisle, grabbing the gasoline and matches and into the next one, Arwen and Aragorn completely in sync keeping back their own hoard with their weapons, the noise from the herd and the fighting and the guns filling up his ears.

“Aragorn! Arwen! I have a plan. We’re going to light it up. Start tearing things down from the shelves as much as you can, we’re going to light it up.” Thranduil shouted, neither of them moving their concentration from the hoard in front of them even for a second.

“Can we do that?” Aragorn asked.

“If we’re fast.” Thranduil returned, running down into the next aisle to find Haldir.

And he found him, completely overwhelmed and with three sets of teeth him. With his last bit of life Haldir gave him a pleading look. Thranduil shot him in the head. He shouldn’t come back that way. That would be what he wanted.

Thranduil changed the plan and splashed a line of gasoline along the end of the aisles. The others could run backwards over it and he could use it to create a fire wall when they neared.

“New plan.” Thranduil yelled, letting his deep voice carry like it used to, commanding and strong. “I’ve drawn a line of gasoline at the end of the aisle, the second you’re over it I’ll drop the watch, it will buy us enough time to get out. I suggest you run backwards, and quickly.” It was too dangerous to turn their backs completely, but they needed to get away. “Ready?”

“Ready.” The three of them shouted.

“Run!”

They broke off, Arwen and Tauriel running backwards with swift elegance, Aragorn slightly less elegant but keeping up and not tripping so it was fine. They all had the foresight to jump over the line of gasoline and not get it on their shoes and Thranduil dropped the match, catching the closets corpses in the blaze.

The small made him want to be sick. But he hadn’t eaten recently enough to be able. They didn’t stay and watch, they just ran, out the doors and into the jeep.

“Where’s Haldir?” Aragorn asked, looking around and not finding him. Thranduil gave him a sad look, they all knew what that one meant.

Aragorn swallowed thickly and started the jeep, tearing away from the town and back to the convoy, they needed to move. They didn’t get the luxury of time to grieve.

They were silent on the way back, Tauriel going through the rucksacks and saying they would need to stop before the week was up again, but that was the only thing said, everyone nodding solemnly.

Haldir had been a good man, he didn’t deserve that. Nobody deserved that.

When they reached the convoy they were quiet, everyone knew what the missing man meant, there was nothing else it could mean. He was dead. They needed to move.

They were on the road again within minutes. The medicine being left with Elrond in Thranduil’s caravan and the food going with Éowyn who had worked out some kind of fair distribution system.

Thranduil didn’t know where they would be staying that night, someplace in the country. The corpses out there were few and far between, most collected in towns and cities as the populations there had attracted them. For dinner.

But it was rare to come across villages and random houses that hadn’t been emptied, so they were having to go into the towns more and more often now. It was too dangerous, they couldn’t go on like this.

They had already lost so many.

They were more experienced now, but it was also getting more dangerous.

They couldn’t go on like this for much longer and Thranduil knew it, they needed to find a long term solution. Bard would know what to do. Bard always knew what to do.

They ended up staying deep in yet another wood. Thranduil used to love the woods. Now their memory was tainted with the filth of these days as well. But the woods were good, rarely a corpse to be seen.

Thranduil was on watch with Percy for the first part of tonight. He sang the children to sleep and went outside, swords in hand, to keep an eye on the camp.

February 12^th 2016

As I wrote a few days ago, I managed to grab a couple of books in our last raid, I gave them to Sigrid today for her birthday, she hadn’t even known what day of the year it was. I think that had made her even happier when she got her gift.

I’m the only one keeping track now, everyone else just goes by the weather. But I want to keep the days. I don’t want us to lose that as well when so much is already gone. I don’t want to lose birthdays and Christmases and anniversaries.

I think we need to start teaching the children how to defend themselves. It will be over my dead body that they are allowed into any kind of fight, but I think both me and Thranduil would sleep easier knowing they would be able to defend themselves against a stray if they had too.

I hate this.

Even the days are darker, maybe this really is the end of the world.

What I wouldn’t give to see a blue sky again.

But the kids and Thranduil keep me going. I live for their smiles.

They are my blue skies now.

I wish I could carve out a corner of the word and put us all in it, shut the door, never have to worry about anything ever again. But that is just a fantasy. Dealing with reality is wearing me out. I know it is showing. I caught my look in a mirror the other day and although it has only been eight months, you’d think it had been years.

Thranduil is as beautiful as ever though, beautiful and deadly. I feel safer with him around.

We didn’t go on the raid today, trying to give Sigrid something of a birthday instead. We didn’t have a cake, but I had found some sweets a little while back that I have been saving. Hopefully I’ll be able to do something similar for the next birthday, Legolas’.

I felt guilty though, when the raiders came back, we didn’t lose anyone, thank god, but they were badly shaken. It was Feren’s first raid. I think he will harden to it though. He has too. I think Haldir has taken him under his wing, that’s good, he is a great fighter, we’d be less strong without him.

Strange, all these people that used to just be strangers I shared a town with now feel like family. And the stragglers we picked up along the way. I wouldn’t want to part with any of them.

They look to me and Thranduil as their leaders. I don’t know how I feel about that. I want to know that they’d be okay without me. Just in case. Thorin can be good, but he is reckless, always wants to take slightly too much on a raid. He’s caused a few near misses. I wouldn’t want him in charge I don’t think, even if he is a good man underneath.

Maybe Elrond, but I don’t like it when he goes into the fighting, he is too valuable to us. We need a doctor. He said something the other day about his mother in law, how he thinks we need to try and get to her, that she can help. I don’t know. Maybe, but we don’t know where she is. It’s difficult. I will try to talk to him about it soon. Apparently she could take us out the country, someone safe across the waters.

I think this place across the sea might be a myth, something someone created to give people hope.

I don’t know where my hope comes from, or if you could even really call it hope.

I just know that when I look at my four beautiful children and my perfect husband that the world lights up again, and I know there must be an end to this darkness at some point.

Perhaps if we can stay alive long enough the disease that reanimates the corpses will die out, but I don’t know. It is hard to look at them, they have faces, they were people once.

I don’t ever want to end up that way. But I found Thranduil’s gun, even though he doesn’t use them in battle. He intends it for himself should he be in a hopeless situation, I know it. I wanted to be mad. But then I realised, I would want to do the same. I want one for myself now. But we don’t have any more guns, and I won’t take his.

I try not to think about Thranduil or the children being taken. I cannot stomach it. I do not think I could survive it.

Maybe that is why I go on so many of the raids, people look to me to lead them now, and if I am gone, unless it is a particularly hard one, Thranduil stays with the children. We try not to go together.

And if I am gone to raid it means Thranduil isn’t, and he can’t get taken, and I know he would protect the children until his last breath.

But that is all rather morbid, and I do try to keep optimistic, although in my own head I am usually more realistic.

Anyway, I haven’t been taken yet and I don’t plan on it ever happening. I don’t plan on anyone from the convoy ever being taken. I will protect them until my final days.

Until tomorrow then, dear diary. Thank you for letting me keep track of the days.

Thranduil shut the diary again, he didn’t like ruining the pages because he was crying, but that meant he could only ever manage one entry at a time.

He missed Bard’s optimism, his determination to make everyone smile every day. He missed his smell and the comfort he bought with him, and his tatty red plaid shirt and his little beard and his lilting voice and his smile.

He missed Bard’s everything.

Sometimes he thought it was crush him.

But then he would see the children, and remember that he couldn’t let it. That they needed someone and he had to be that someone. They needed him and he needed them. He had no idea what they would do without each other.

It had been a few days since they lost Haldir. They were feeling the loss keenly. Just like Bard said in his diary he had been a keen fighter and another unfailing optimist, he always thought they could make it through. But then he hadn’t made it.

The camp was emptier. If – when – they lost another couple of people they would probably want to ditch a vehicle from the convoy, fuel was getting harder to come by anyway. But as far as Thranduil could see, everyone was indispensable. Everyone had become family.

They needed to make a stop again, Aragorn was planning it for a smallish town they would get to in a day or two, they moved at a very slow pace in convoy, it was safer unless they were being actively chased.

It was small enough that there was a risk that there would be nothing left in the town supplies-wise. But Thranduil understood, the loss of Haldir was still being felt, if they could play it safe they would try, and if it didn’t work, they would have to go back into a larger town.

Thranduil was musing to himself as Lindir drove the Caravan when Tauriel’s voice came crackling through the radio.

“We’re about to stop the convoy.” She warned him.

“Why?” Thranduil inquired, Lindir and Elrond listening in intently.

“Because I spotted something up ahead.” Tauriel explained, only she then didn’t elaborate.

“Then shouldn’t we be turning around and finding another route rather than stopping like sitting ducks?” Thranduil pointed out, already getting his swords.

“I don’t think they’re corpses.” Tauriel said, more survivors then.

Sometimes they were more dangerous than the corpses. They could chase you. Would steal your supplies.

But sometimes they were helpless and they were good and all they needed in this world was for someone to show them kindness.

They always offered survivors a spot in the convoy if they wanted it.

They could never bring themselves to just drive past.

They pulled to a stop and what were probably the leaders of this motley crew gathered together to discuss their options.

“Do they look dangerous?” Lindir asked Tauriel.

“No, they look like stragglers to be honest, I’m surprised they survived at all. They’re on foot for goodness sake.” She replied, clearly keen to go scoop them up and add them to our ranks, offer them whatever little safety there was to be had in this world.

“You sure they’re not just to lure us in? The rest of their pack hiding in the treeline?” Aragorn asked, concern on his face.

“I doubt it, I’m pretty sure it is just the two of them. If there are people in the trees they will be far enough back for us to get away I think.” Tauriel reasoned, she never liked driving past fellow humans, none of them did. But it had led to their supplies being stolen once. They were more cautious now.

“We could send a smaller contingent.” Thorin suggested, and that was actually a pretty level headed suggestion from Thorin.

“That is a pretty good idea.”  Nori agreed, slapping Thorin on the back

“Agreed.” Aragorn said. “But who will go? Volunteers?” He asked, never liking to have to choose people for this kind of task.

If they turned out to be dangerous, it was always harder to fight against humans than corpses.

“I’ll go.” Lindir offered, he was a good diplomat, if a below average fighter.

“Me too.” Thorin stated. “I was my idea.”

“I’ll go with you.” Bilbo piped up beside him, to which Thorin had an entirely predictable reaction.

“No you will not.” He stated, and it annoyed Bilbo, but it was said out of love, they all knew it. Bilbo wasn’t a great fighter, although he was sneaky, and it was probably be the end of Thorin if something were to happen to him.

Bilbo huffed and piped down, clearly not wanting to have a domestic in front of everyone.

“I’ll do it.” Thranduil said, and he could tell people wanted to protest, probably because of the children and the potential danger. But if there was one person you wanted by your side in a high speed fight, they all knew it was him, so they let it pass.

They all know if there was one person truly untouchable it was him.

But they shouldn’t be so complacent. No matter what they thought Thranduil was mortal just like the rest of them, no matter how fast he was with his swords.

Bard had known that.

But he believed he would come back. Everyone had family here, not just him after all.

“And I’ll come, that’s four that should be more than enough.” Tauriel decided, she went on most of the dangerous missions, no one protested, she was somewhat indispensable.

They approached the pair cautiously, in one dispensable car with little supplies on it, they could lose it if they must. The pair spotted them and stopped walking, waiting on the side of the road for them to get close.

Thorin stopped the car a little ways out and they all got out, weapons visible but hopefully not threatening they walked over to the pair. And what an odd pair they were, a great hulking man with a wild mane of hair and seriously oversized sideburns, and a small, odd looking man who looked like he was carrying half the woods in his hair and on his clothes.

“Hello.” Lindir opened the conversation, which was probably best, he was by far the most welcoming of the four, the rest of them had a slightly threatening way about them, not matter how hard they tied to look less so (although to be honest Thranduil didn’t really bother to try these days).

“What do you want.” Came the gruff voice of the massively tall man, cutting off the smaller one who had opened his mouth to speak as well.

“That wasn’t very polite Beorn.” The smaller one grumbled, the larger one ignored it.

“Honestly? Too see if you wanted to join our convoy, you look like you could use the help.” Lindir offered, hopefully it came across as the genuine offer it was.

“For all you know we have twenty more people waiting to ambush you.” He pointed out, and just from saying that Thranduil knew that they must not, they must be alone.

“Yes we know that, but we decided to offer you our help anyway.” Lindir said, irritation showing through even if his voice was still perfectly pleasant.

“Was a stupid thing for you to do.” He grumbled again.

“Yes, but we find it rather hard to drive past people who might need help.” Tauriel cut in.

“We don’t need help.” The larger man said again in his gruff way.

“Um, actually. We might.” The little strange man contradicted.

“What do you have?” The larger one again, probably trying to decide if it was worth it.

“Food, water, transport, medicine, a doctor and most importantly just other people.” Tauriel explained openly, she always wanted to save people. Probably because she still blamed herself for what happened to Fili and Kili, but that hadn’t been her fault, she just didn’t see it.

“Look, there is no pressure on you to stay. If you decide it isn’t for you, you are more than welcome to leave.” Thranduil let out in something of an exasperated sigh.

“We have nothing to offer you.” The larger man stated, clearly making sure there wasn’t any miscommunication, it probably did seem a little too good to be true form their point of view.

“Doesn’t matter. You’ll be expected to contribute to the convoy in some way, take your turn on the night watch, probably have to go one some raids. We work as a collective. We are stronger together.” Tauriel replied firmly.

“I think this is a very good idea.” The strange small man said pointedly to the other one. “I’m Radagast, and we are very grateful for your help.”

They waited a few moment, until finally, the larger man gave a slight and curt nod.

“Beorn.” He introduced himself roughly, a man of few words it would seem.

They didn’t have much, a few bits of food, a knife and a baseball bat for weapons. How they had survived this far was nothing short of a mystery really.

They rode with Aragorn and Arwen for the first leg of the journey so that they could be taken through the general running of the convoy. One of the reasons they worked so well was because they were such a well-oiled machine at this point, hopefully Beorn and Radagast would catch on quickly.

When they found a relatively safe spot for the night, everyone came together as they ate their assigned rations from Éowyn, and Tilda and Legolas as was there way went over to the new people curiously and started giving them the third degree in questioning.

They were curious children and didn’t get to meet new people very often.

Thranduil kept a close eye, he didn’t know anything about these new people yet, it would be a while before he trusted them with his kids.

There were very few people Thranduil trusted with his kids.

But Beorn it seemed was something of a gentle giant, although Thranduil reckoned he would become indispensable in a fight, imagining he was probably the reason he and Radagast had survived at all.

Radagast he could not get his head around. He would think that the man was half mad were it not for the fact that some of the things he said made an awful lot of sense, if only you thought about them long enough to understand them.

“So, where are you heading to?” Beorn asked, his huge hands occupied in some clapping game with Tilda and Legolas.

“We’re heading to the coast, Elrond thinks there is someone there who might be able to help us.” Aragorn explained, taking a bite of his small dinner.

“I have heard these stories.” Radagast piped up. “A beautiful lady in white, some say she is an angel, helping people to somewhere safe.”

“I think she is a myth.” Beorn’s rumbling voice said.

“I believe the woman they mean in those stories is my mother in law.” Elrond said, and that most definitely caught their attention.

“She does exist then?” Beorn regarded Elrond with interest, one whiskered eyebrow raised.

“I believe so, although I do not know exactly where to find her, or if there really is a safe place, or even if she is still there. It has been a long while in this hell.” Elrond finished sadly, remembering all the fallen.

“But it’s the best we have.” Arwen added in, hand clasped firmly in Aragorn’s.

“It’s all we have.” Thorin felt the need to correct.

“It is not much.” Beorn pointed out. “But it is better than nothing.”

Thranduil wasn’t sure if that was pessimism or optimism or some combination of the two. 4

It reminded him of Bard, and his mix realism and optimism.

Thranduil excused himself silently from dinner and went inside his caravan, the children join him not long after. They didn’t ask, they just quietly piled in with him and curled up together.

He missed Bard so much.

He couldn’t accept he was dead.

If he did that would be the end.

February 23^rd 2016

I don’t know what to say, I don’t know how to put it down on paper. I don’t know if I should. But I’ve been recording the days for so long now that it would seem wrong somehow not to set it down here.

Elladan and Elrohir were good boys, good men. Not that you could tell them apart, but they tended not to mind the confusion. Pranksters the both of them, always managing to somehow find a laugh even on the most miserable of days.

Bain idolises them – no, idolised them, I guess now – also trailing them around, Bard didn’t mind, the twins were more than capable of keeping Bain safe from the few straggling corpses they might come across in the woods they stayed the night in.

It should have just been a simple raid, yet another small town, not many corpses limping around. And well there weren’t. So maybe they had their guard down, maybe they weren’t careful enough. Maybe maybe maybe. It hardly mattered now.

Their guard hadn’t been down, they were never so stupid, and they were always careful, they had never become complacent about their situation.

They had just been unlucky. Impossibly unlucky.

It was me, Tauriel, Elrond, Kili and the twins on the raid. More than enough for such a small town. We had gotten everything we needed by scavenging a few houses before we even saw the first corpse, staggering towards us from a fair distance away.

We had been well aware of the corpses behind us, they were our main priority. We were going at a run, they wouldn’t catch up with us, but the adrenalin is already pumping when you’ve seen them so you run faster than you need to.

The twins were in the front, checking around the corners as they went, making sure the route back to the jeep was clear. But around one of the corners, visible just too late, was another pack of corpses.

One of them swiped out and caught Elrohir, others making a reach for him and hauling him into the hoard, Elladan lunged for his brother. So they grabbed him as well.

I remember it like it happened in slow motion, it felt like it had.

They had torn them apart, torn them apart right in front of us, in front of Elrond. He screamed and ran for his sons, but Tauriel had a vice grip around his arm already. He fought her as she dragged him away, I had to help her or Elrond was going to be taken as well.

Kili was well ahead, already throwing himself into the jeep and bringing it back around and driving towards them for them to get into.

We forced Elrond into the jeep, it took everything to stop him from hurling himself back out again, back towards the hoard. He was screaming for his sons. But they were gone.

They had only been twenty five.

Elrond turned his desperate anger on me and Tauriel, we just took it. I tuned out the things he was saying, Kili had a firm hold of Tauriel’s hand.

It didn’t take us long to get back to camp. The twins’ absence was explanation enough for Elrond’s state, no one said anything. Lindir took hold of Elrond, holding him tight and crumping to the floor with him, Arwen broke down in Aragorn’s arms.

I got the convoy moving silently, it was a very quiet afternoon and evening.

It wasn’t until I was sat alone on the steps of the caravan that evening, that I really could afford to let what had happened sink in.

God the memories, the image of Elrohir and Elladan being ripped to shreds, torn into brutally and violently, pulled apart at the seams.

It wasn’t until I felt Thran’s arms around me that I realised I was shaking. He held me close and murmured sweet nothings to me until I stopped trembling.

It has been a long time since we suffered a loss like this, I wish there was something I could do for Elrond and Arwen, but there is nothing but time I fear. And even that can never be hoped to heal this wound. I cannot imagine losing one of the children, if any one of them were taken from me, I do not know what I would do. I do not think I would be able to go on.

I can hardly bear to think of it at all.

They are my blue skies in these grey days. I could not be without them, any of them.

I told Thran that I don’t think we’re going to be able to allow Elrond on raids any more. I can only imagine how reckless he will become, perhaps we could let him on a trial one, but I believe he will be looking for revenge even though there is none to be had. The corpses don’t know what they are doing.

If I did not hate them I would pity them instead.

I am now going to join my husband in bed, I think I need him to hold me a little more.

Today was not a good day.

“Ada?”

“Ada wake up.”

Thranduil was woken by a pair of tentative and snuffly voices, when he opened his eyes it became clear that Tilda and Legolas had been crying, still where a little. They were both still so little.

Thranduil sat back and made room for them both to snuggle down with him in the small bed, wrapping his arms around them and trying to make them feel as safe as possible.

“What’s wrong sweethearts?” Thranduil whispered, trying not to wake Sigrid and Bain as well.

“I had a nightmare.” Tilda sniffled, and that explained Legolas as well, they had fallen asleep huddled together tonight, if Tilda woke up sad and scared it wouldn’t take long for Legolas to feel the same, he didn’t like it when his sister was sad.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Thranduil asked softly, petting his daughter’s hair and wiping away a few stray tears.

She shook her head and burrowed in closer.

“You sure?” He pressed gently.

She shook her head again.

“Come on, tell me little one, nothing can get you in here.” Thranduil reassured, kissing the top of her head and running a hand through Legolas’ hair.

“You went out and then you didn’t come back.” She cried out and Thranduil hushed her gently, holding them both close as the crying started from Legolas as well.

That wasn’t so much a nightmare as a very real possibility. He didn’t know what to say to comfort them. He didn’t like lying. Bard was so much better at comforting them.

“I’m right here. I’m right here you don’t have to worry.” Thranduil cooed gently, and eventually the sniffles died down again and with two pairs of little fists balled into his shirt, they all fell asleep again.

Tilda and Legolas seemed to bounce back the next day, the resilience of children never ceased to amaze him, they were playing in the caravan with little Frodo, who was riding with them for the day, Bilbo and Thorin having a one of their little domestics that tended to end in one of two kinds of screaming. 

Bain was riding with Tauriel, she had cut her hair again the other night, apparently deciding it was too long again. Thranduil was never sure if she got rid of it because it was impractical to have it so long these days, or if it was because Kili had loved it so much, she couldn’t stand to look at it anymore.

Thranduil knew better than to ask.

He had kept his own long. As long as it had always been. Even if it was tied up in a raggedy ponytail most of the time now.

Bard loved to run his hands through it, braid it, brush it, wind it around his fingers.

Sigrid was sat next to him, reading the book Bard had managed to swipe for her on a raid, her expression was always caught between happiness and sadness when she did. Thranduil understood why. 

They drove along at their snail pace, heading in the general direction of the coast. Thranduil had no idea how far from it they were these days, hopefully not far, but somehow it didn’t exactly seem close either. Either way, they were making their way towards it, slowly but surely.

He and Aragorn were planning to raid the next village, hoping that there would be some supplies left there, hopefully fuel.

The party this time would be himself, Tauriel, Aragorn, Thorin, Dwalin and Beorn. Beorn had turned out to be practically indispensable, even in the short time he had been with them. Strong and fast and brutal in a fight.

They were taking the truck, they didn’t usually on a raid, it was noisier, but they were hoping to be able to load it up with fuel.

They stopped the convoy in what was considered a safe place as they always did, leaving at least five people on sentry duty so that they could get out if they had too, Thranduil hugged the children and let them all know how much he loved them, and the raiding party set out in the truck.

“The coast seems clear.” Tauriel commented, voice low, as Aragorn crept the truck into the village. “I can see the petrol station, but no corpses.”

“I say we just drive the truck straight into the gas station, save time, especially if we can’t see any corpses at the moment.” Dwalin proposed in his deep gruff voice.

It was a change from what they usually did, but Thranduil didn’t see the problem this time, and evidentially no one else did either because the plan was met with cautious nods and Aragorn brought the truck right into the station.

There was a decent amount of fuel left, enough that they could breathe a sigh of relief for a little while anyway.

It was eerily quiet in the town, Thranduil didn’t like it one bit, but while the others shared his suspicion they decided to make the most of it and sent Thorin and Tauriel off into the shops to see what they could scour up.

That was when the shouting and gunshots started. But they didn’t sound like any of the guns Tauriel carried, or Thorin’s shotgun, and his axe didn’t exactly make a sound like that. And yet he recognised that sound…

He didn’t have much time to think about it, because Tauriel and Thorin were barrelling towards them and the truck, bags full but clearly running away from something. But if the guns weren’t theirs, whose were they?

“What happened?” Beorn demanded, voice carrying enough for them to hear, no one appeared to be chasing them, although as soon as Thranduil thought that the first corpse staggered around the corner, but it was far enough away that they really needn’t worry.

“Another group of survivors, big group of corpses on their tail.” Tauriel explained, swinging herself into the truck.

“Do they need our help?” Aragorn asked, not liking leaving anyone behind, even if they were their own people.

“They have it under control, look about as organised as us. Told us to make a run for it, so we did.” Tauriel shrugged and Aragorn couldn’t really argue with that, Thranduil wondered if they’d bump into each other further down the road, they were probably heading in the same direction.

But just as Aragorn started to pull away, Thranduil saw something.

He was sure of it.

A whip of red plaid and messy brown hair, dashing around a corner, corpses on his tail.

It looked like –

“Bard!” Thranduil screamed, lunging out the truck even as it started to move, but Beorn and Tauriel dragged him back.

He fought them off, why wouldn’t they let him go! Bard was there! He was right over there! Just out of sight! If he could just get to him, if he could just –

“Let me go!” He growled. “Bard! Bard!” he screamed his name and screamed at his friends until he was hoarse in the throat, but still they would not let him go, driving further and further away.

“Get off of me!” Thranduil shouted, shoving Tauriel back forcefully, but she just grabbed back onto him again.

“It wasn’t him Thranduil!” She shouted in his face, far louder than he thought she was able.

“It was! I saw him, he was right there.” Thranduil roared back, they had made him leave, he needed to get back.

“Do you know how many times I see Kili? In How many different places? But it’s never him Thranduil, he’s dead.” Tauriel grit back, finding speaking of it hard clearly, but forcing the words out nonetheless.

But she was wrong, this was different.

“Bard isn’t dead.” Thranduil glowered, nails digging into his own palms.

“He is Thranduil.” Tauriel bit back, probably thinking she was doing the right thing. But she wasn’t bard wasn’t dead he had seen him, just now he had seen him.

“No one saw it happen, it’s not like the others. No one saw Bard die, if anyone could survive it it would be him.” Thranduil insisted, anger bubbling over in his voice.

“You’ve got to accept he’s gone Thranduil.” Tauriel pushed, hard grip still around his wrist, probably bruising him, Beorn large hand clamped around his other bicep.

“No! He was right there, I need to go back for him let me go.” Thranduil shouted, trying to pull out of their grasp once again.

“No! The convoy has to leave when we get to it before we get swarmed, you know that.” Aragorn broke in, voice softer than Tauriel’s but no less fierce.

“Then leave me behind.” Thranduil spat.

“Is that what Bard would want? For you to abandon your children because you saw a ghost?” Tauriel demanded harshly.

“It wasn’t a ghost!” Thranduil protested vehemently. 

“Even so! You’d leave your children, devoid of any parent in this world! Believing that both of you were dead.” Tauriel pushed, grip tightening even more, maybe it was supposed to be grounding.

Her words were cruel, they sliced into him, deflating his anger, forcing his resignation.

“No, I could not do that.” Thranduil breathed, knowing he would never, could never, leave the children. And he could hardly take them with him, out of the convoy.

His face felt wet, he must have been crying.

Tauriel didn’t let go of his wrist until they were back at the convoy.

He couldn’t go back, but he didn’t believe her, didn’t believe that it had been a ghost.

It had been Bard, it had to be.

He didn’t tell the children, didn’t want to get their hopes up if they never found him. Even though Thranduil would tear up the entire world looking, nothing would be able to stop him. But his first priority was the children, he needed to look after the children, or when he found him, Bard would never forgive him.

Thranduil tried to stall the convoy leaving, imagining that Bard was going to break through the treeline and fall into his arms, but the others weren’t having it, Lindir taking over the driving of their caravan.

The convoy set off and they left behind the clearing, they left behind Bard.

That was the second time they had done that.

Thranduil vowed then and there that he would never allow them to do it again.

March 1^st 2016

It had been a quite week, I was almost beginning to wonder if we had left the worst of it behind us somehow, but I knew that was not possible. It was just a lull, they happen occasionally, when you’re not near any centres of civilisation.

But something else happens when there are no cities or large towns around. Herding. And that is what we ran into today.

Tauriel and I were running the jeep out ahead of the convoy, on scouting duties a couple of miles ahead of everyone else, within radio range but otherwise far enough for them to get away easily if need be.

We weren’t really paying attention because there had been such a lull. But then Tauriel was slamming on the breaks, I almost went through the windshield. About eight hundred metres ahead was a huge group of corpses. I have never seen a flock so large.

Tauriel switched off the engine and we ducked into the footwells, grabbing the radio and whispering down the line for the convoy to hold it. We needed to keep still and quiet until the herd was long gone.

I told Thranduil and the kids I loved them, that probably scared them, but I needed to say it, we were so close to such a large group.

They were crossing the road ahead of us, and they just kept coming, we could hear the moaning and groaning from where we were because of the sheer number of them. Every few minutes we would take a peek over the console to see if they were gone yet – or more importantly if they had spotted us – but they just kept coming, it felt endless.

Luckily they are rather dim creatures, the vast majority of higher brain function is clearly dead because so long as they can neither see nor hear or smell you, you are likely to be okay, they don’t associate a stopped jeep with people unless they sense you somehow.

We were also very lucky that they were downwind of us. Something in the disease seems to enhance their sense of smell, I don’t know what it is. I don’t know what any of it is scientifically. I hope someone find out someday, I hope someone finds a way to help them. But that is a fools hope, merely my soft heart speaking I am sure of it.

It took hours for them to pass, I had no idea there were herds that large, now that I do I am scared, they must flock together whenever they come across each other. It has made the country seem like far less of a haven, knowing something that large could be lurking anywhere. We need to be more careful, widen the perimeter maybe, be less complacent about the country side.

I’ve already told all this to the others and I will make sure we are taking precautions, but still, you can never be too careful these days, and at some point something bad is going to happen no matter how many precautions we take.

Sometimes I think it would be better to travel in a smaller convoy, everything could be faster, more efficient, no matter how organised we get it would always be faster with less people. But then I look around us and I could not leave these people, they are my family, we have been through too much together for them not to be.

I wish I could be selfish, break off into a smaller group with Thranduil and the kids and Tauriel, but I’m not, I couldn’t do that, I don’t even want to.

And there are many positives of a larger group, I know that. It’s just difficult.

More people is more support, it’s also more people to lose.

Elrond still isn’t the same anymore, won’t be ever again.

I was right, we do need to ban him from raiding, or even really leaving the convoy if we can avoid it. We took him on one, we needed him to find some particular medicines for us, get what he needed, but when he saw the corpses he tried to race towards them.

We can’t lose him, he’s our doctor. I want him to train someone else though, just in case. Tauriel knows a bit of first aid, but we have relied on Elrond so much. It would be hard without him, we’d lose a lot more people.

But Lindir keeps him close, and Arwen does a good job to try and get his spirits up, even though I know how keenly she is still feeling the loss of her brothers as well. Aragorn looks after her, they look after each other really. I hope they make it.

I hope we all do.

But sometimes I am not so sure if it is going to happen. We’re going to lose people. That much is unavoidable and I can hardly stomach the thought, there is no one here I can bear the idea of losing, but I know it will happen.

But I am still managing to keep my spirits up, and that of the children, and Thranduil. That is most important to me, that has to be my priority, I need to keep them alive in more than just body, they have to have hope.

I played in the trees with them this evening, all the children, even little Frodo joined in. It was good, they were all laughing, their minds taken off of any doom that was looming. Usually we try to keep quieter during the nights, but I think everyone agreed, they needed it.

And there is nothing like the sounds of happy children to brighten everyone’s spirits.

I even coaxed a few smiles out of Thranduil, along with a few kisses and hopefully something else once I finish writing, but that’s between me and him and not a diary. We need it I think, sometimes we just need to feel each other, ground ourselves a bit. It’s not like we get many chances nowadays. I am always caught between wanting him all the time because for all I know it really is our last night on earth, and the weight of the situation making it difficult to want to at the same time.

I think Thran feels the same.

I don’t know, all I know is whatever happens I will hold onto him all night long until the sun rises and I can kiss him awake again.

I don’t sleep much these days, even though there are people on sentry duty ever night I am usually too worried to sleep.

Instead I just listen to the sounds of my family breathing deeply and let it soothe me.

I usually catch some sleep while we’re moving if I can, for some reason that is when I feel safer, whenever we are just sitting still I feel like we are just waiting for something to happen. We discussed briefly trying to keep the convoy moving at night as well, but it would be too difficult. We’d need lights, that attracts corpses, and it is so much harder to see in the dark of the night.

I don’t sleep well these days, but the feeling of Thranduil asleep on my chest is the most calming thing I know, so I always go to bed anyway.

I do not want him to worry about me, even though he does, and I do him.

I can’t lose him or the children, it would destroy me I think.

There would be no more light, no more sunshine, no more blue skies. The darkness would win, beat me down, if that happened.

Sometimes I think Elrond is the strongest of us all, just to find a way out of bed in the mornings.

I wonder if Lindir kisses him awake, if he finds a way for that to be enough.

I don’t know what I would do if I lost a single one of the children, I hope I never find out.

It had been just over a week since Thranduil had seen Bard. Because he had, no matter what the others tried to tell him, it had been him, he had seen him, and he had not been a corpse.

He found himself renewed with vigour, had newfound hope. It felt like Bard was around every corner, like it was only a matter of time until he found him again. And he would find him, the universe wouldn’t be so cruel as to withhold him, not now, not after everything.

They would be stopping for their next raid soon, Thranduil hadn’t heard anything about it, but he knew it had to be soon. Going over a week without one was rarely a good idea, stocks running low always made people antsy, no matter how well Éowyn rationed it. 

Everyone was pulling up ahead, stopping the convoy, Thranduil assumed to disucss the next raid, which was strange, they usually did that in the evenings.

But he understood when the jeep went racing off with Aragorn, Tauriel, Arwen, Feren, Dwalin and not himself in it.

He wasn’t invited.

They didn’t want him on the raids anymore.

Thranduil was angry, livid, and not just for the most obvious reason. He knew what they thought, that they believed he would just go chasing off after some spectre of Bard. But they were wrong, he would look or him yes, but he would never endanger the others or leave the children. He thought they knew him better than that.

He was angry at them for that, but he was also angry because they were putting themselves in danger simply by leaving him behind. There was a reason he went on most the raids, that it had always either been him or bard if not both. They had been the best. He still was the best.

They thought it was him being bull-headed about Bard, but it wasn’t it was them. 

They were putting themselves in danger by leaving him behind, and they knew it.

Thranduil fumed as he waited for them to return, no one came near him, no one dared. It had been a long time since he had managed to be this angry.

It only increased when they returned. From the raid batter and bleeding.

When they returned sans Feren.

 “What the hell do you think you were doing?” Thranduil roared as Aragorn climbed out the jeep, unable to look at him. Thranduil was seeing red, he had him slammed up against the side of the jeep by his shirt.

Aragorn didn’t even try to get himself free.

Feren had been a good man. Thranduil had liked him, he’d been his friend.

“You should have taken me with you and you know it. His blood is on your hands.” Thranduil spat releasing his hold on Aragorn’s shirt and turning to walk away.

“You know why we couldn’t take you. You’re a liability.” Dwalin barked at him, successfully turning Thranduil’s wrath on him instead.

“You really think, I would endanger anyone’s life on a raid? You don’t think that maybe I care about you all too much for that. But no, it was you who was endangering lives by not taking me, and look at the result. Feren is dead.” Thranduil seethed, letting his anger lace through his words.

“You’re trying to claim you wouldn’t have gone running off to try and find Bard.” Arwen pushed, standing beside Aragorn.

“I would never abandon my children and I would never endanger your lives. I would just have kept an eye out. I would not have gone anywhere. I just wanted the opportunity to look.” Thranduil bit back. “The fact that you think I would disgusts me.”

They were quite after that, not meeting his glowering eyes.

Thranduil stormed back into his caravan.  

Now Feren was gone as well.

“Ada?” Sigrid asked, voice shaky as he came into the caravan.

“Yes sweetheart?” Thranduil asked, wiping away the tear on her cheek.

“Why were you fighting with the others? You said something about da, I don’t understand, I don’t –” She started, but her voice was cracking again, she was confused, she was scared. She was probably scared all the time.

And Bard wasn’t sure what to say to her, he didn’t want to give her hope, not when they might never find Bard, but at the same time he had hope, he believed they would.

She was heading towards thirteen, and she was already having to grow up too fast. She needed something to hold onto, and Thranduil did not believe it was false hope, not for a second.

“Sig, I want to tell you something.” He told her quietly, sitting down with her on one of the lumpy cushioned benches. “I think I saw da the other week, while we were on a raid. The others believe I am seeing things, but I do not think that is true, I believe it was him, with all my heart. But that doesn’t mean we will find him.” Thranduil struggled to say the last part, but he needed to say it, for realities sake.

“Da’s alive?!” She exclaimed with a sharp intake of breath.

“I think so.” Thranduil acknowledged, managing not to fall back as she threw herself at him for a hug. A hug filled with hope.

“How do we find him? Shouldn’t we go back?” Sigrid asked, voice filled with excitement.

“We can’t, not without endangering everyone or breaking off and I would never do that.” Thranduil told her, mainly because them going it alone would be him with four children and he wouldn’t be able to protect them all, not alone.

“Oh, what do we do then?” Sigrid wondered, deflating a little.

“I don’t think we need to do anything really, keep an eye out.” Thranduil smiled, Sigrid still looked concerned.

“But how does that help us find da?” Sigrid asked, sounding like she was growing desperate.

“Well, da knows where we’re headed doesn’t he?” Thranduil pointed out.

“To the coast? To find Elrond’s mother in law?” Sigrid remembered, realisation looking like it was tickling at the edges of her mind but not quite dawning yet.

“Exactly. So I think that would be exactly where da is headed, don’t you?” Thranduil carried on. “In fact, I’d bet that’s why I saw him the other day, coincidence is too easy, da is headed in the same direction we are. We’ll find him again, or he’ll find us.”

“We’ll find each other.” Sigrid smiled, and Thranduil couldn’t help but share in it, he was angry with the others, not with his daughter.

They drove on, somehow the pace seemed even slower than usual. When they pulled up for the night Feren’s things had to be divided, Thranduil always hated that part. Éowyn did it, part of her rationing and distribution. Although these days she had started to speak about going on the raids with them, Thranduil didn’t see the problem, but a lot of people seemed ready to underestimate her, probably because she seemed so soft and gentle on the outside. But Thranduil would bet there was a fire within.

Thranduil went on sentry duty that night with Bilbo, Lindir and Nori, all of them keeping an eye on separate edges of the sight they had chosen for the night.

It must have been in the small hours – not that Thranduil knew the exact time – that he saw movement far too close for comfort. He drew his swords and raised the alarm quietly.

They needed to move.

They needed to more quickly.

It was a pack, squinting in the dark he couldn’t tell how many, but however many there were they were moving towards them, and faster than he had seen them do before.

The last thing they needed was for the corpses to start to learn how to run.

“We need to get out, now.” Thranduil threw down the radio in a furious whisper, he could hear the sounds of people moving about frantically, trying to get into the front of their vehicles without causing any more light or noise than absolutely necessary.

Those of them on the night watch raced around every part of the convoy, making sure everyone was up and getting ready.

It only took a single minute, but the movement through the trees was getting far too close for comfort.

On Thranduil’s signal down the radio they all roared their engines to life and they drove off, making sure they weren’t leaving anyone behind.

Thranduil looked behind him into his mirror as they sped off down the road, entire convoy intact.

He was right, the pack had been running. Thranduil didn’t know they could do that.

That was not good.

They took a winding and twisting road to try to lose them if they were following, but Thranduil couldn’t shake something niggling at the back of his mind.

They had been running, and it had been like they were making a beeline for the camp. It didn’t go with anything he expected of corpses at this point.

There were two possible answers, one; the corpses were somehow evolving, and Thranduil did not like that option one bit. Or two, they had not been corpses, they had been people.

But people didn’t have the sense of smell that corpses did, they shouldn’t have been able to know they were there, silent and lightless as they were, unless…

Unless they were looking for them.

And that would mean Bard.

But it was too dangerous to turn back now.

March 11^th 2016

It happened in the dead of the night. We should have had more people on watch, I know we should have had more people on watch. But I didn’t push because everyone is so tired. I feel guilty about it, I knew better.

Fili and Tauriel were out on the watch for the night.

At first I had thought I was still in one of my nightmares, because it was one, just realised into reality. Happening right there, waking me up.

My biggest fear was realised as I was woken to the sounds of shouting and fighting and that all too familiar groaning.

Thranduil woke at the same time, I remember the look we shared, one indulgent moment of crippling fear before we burst into action.

We woke the children and had them lock themselves in the bathroom, one more door between them and the things outside. Told them not to make a sound. They were terrified, but they nodded, shutting and locking the door.

Thran grabbed his swords and stayed in the van ready to guard the children, make a break for it as soon as Bard returned.

I was going to try and rally everyone, help if I could, try to get everyone out, if I couldn’t, we were going to get the children out, and fast, taking as much of the convoy as we could with us.

My first thought when I came out the caravan, firmly locking it behind me was that it could be a lot worse, that if we were organised we could probably fight them off, we weren’t overwhelmed, just surprised.

Then I heard the desperate cry of Kili and saw Fili been torn open, Kili ready to race towards his brother, even though the light had already left his eyes. But Tauriel was already up there, trying to fight them all off of Fili herself.

I think I knew what was going to happen before it did.

I raced after Kili as he blindly ran towards his fallen brother and his love, knowing Kili wasn’t watching his surroundings properly.

Tauriel screamed out a warning as she realised what was about to happen, but it was too late. Kili with all his focus solely on Tauriel and his brother, hadn’t realised the corpses to the left of him and had been grabbed. It was always nearly impossible after they had a hold of you if there were more than a handful of them.

Tauriel jumped from the roof of the caravan she had been fighting on, lunging for Kili, she caught his hand but it was too late. I knew that it was too late for them both.

Kili died ever as Tauriel tried to pull him away, teeth sunken into him from multiple corpses.

Tauriel gasped, she seemed to freeze.

I grabbed her around the waist and started to bark orders, he needed to get away, and fast. I ordered anyone and everyone back into their vehicles, bodily throwing Tauriel into ours, we were going to mow the corpses down as we drove away.

I made sure everyone got inside, unprepared to lose anyone else, taking down as many of them as I could before ducking safely back inside.

Everyone started racing away, we brought up the rear, so I could check no one had been left behind, although at that point they would probably have been overwhelmed anyway.

We were driving fast, everyone hopped up on adrenalin, Thranduil was trying to sing the children back to sleep as they drove, but with little success.

It was then that Bilbo’s crackly voice came through the radio, he sounded shaken.

I remember the exchange well.

“B-bard, we need to stop, as soon as we can.” Bilbo had stated, clearly trying his best to keep his voice steady.

“We want to get further away, I imagine people want to keep driving for now. What is it Bilbo?” I had asked, concern growing rapidly.

“We don’t need to stop for long, I just need Elrond. We have to stop. You have to get Elrond over here.” Bilbo had begged down the line.

“Bilbo what’s happened, are you hurt?” I had replied

“I’m fine, it’s Thorin, he went outside to help his nephews and, and – ” Bilbo broke off.

“Bilob, has he been bitten?” I demanded sharply, needing the answer.

“No, thank god. But he’s badly hurt. I don’t think – I can’t help him, there’s too much blood.” Bilbo said, panic seemed to be rising in his voice.

“Okay Bilbo, we’ll pull over in a second, have Elrond over to you.” I promised, more than anything I was relieved it was not a bite, that was never pleasant to deal with, I three people in one night wouldn’t bear thinking about.

 I pulled over the convoy quickly, radioing for Elrond to head to Bilbo and Thorin fast, before we started driving again, Elrond could fix Thorin on the go.

We pulled over during the day, we rarely do that, we like to keep moving as much as we can. But we needed to stop and regroup, check on Thorin. Thranduil had been trying to comfort Tauriel, but she was inconsolable. She had locked herself in the back of the caravan.

I fear she thinks it was her fault.

When we pulled over in the day, I had to check for Thorin, make sure we were not going to lose another. Elrond had had to force him into sleep when he discovered that his nephews had died. But he should survive his own injuries. I can’t imagine Bilbo will be leaving his side any time soon.

Elrond thinks that so long as we can avoid an infection he should make a complete recovery from his physical injuries, but the emotional ones from the loss of his nephews is another matter. Only time will tell.

The convoy continued, I had everyone change the rota, there would now be four people on watch every night. No one argued. How could they now.

Tauriel unlocked the door and came out. She has cut all her hair off. There is something different about her now. Something hard. She’s lost a part of herself. It makes me sad.

I don’t think the children are going to be sleeping soundly again for many nights now, I don’t think any of us will be, but I’m still going to go curl up with my husband while I can.

It had been a few days since they had to move in the night, and the more Thranduil thought about it, the more he was convinced that they had not been corpses coming towards them. Something just didn’t add up about it.

He believed it had been Bard. No one else would be able to guess so well where they were likely to set down for the night.

It had renewed Thranduil’s hope, because it meant that they were heading in the same direction, and it meant that Bard was looking for them. Thranduil decided to share his suspicions with Elrond, he needed to tell someone over the age of twelve.

Elrond was driving, so Thranduil set himself down in the seat next to him.

“Elrond, may I speak with you.” Thranduil asked, rarely so polite, but he had not been speaking very much with any of the others lately.

“Of course.” Elrond responded, eyes never leaving the road.

“You know the other night when we had to move.” He started.

“Yes.” Elrond confirmed, as if he would have forgotten.

“I do not think they were corpses coming towards us.” Thranduil mused aloud, wondering if Elrond had had any of the same suspicions.

“If they were not corpses, then what? There is no other explanation, people would not have been able to see, hear or smell us.” Elrond reasoned, always logical.

“No, that is true. But didn’t you notice, they seemed to be running, making a beeline for the camp. I’ve never known corpses to do that.” Thranduil commented.

“Well, I do not like the possibility but perhaps they are learning, although I hope with all my heart that that is not true.” Elrond replied. “But I did not see them doing so, perhaps your eyes were playing tricks on you.” He added gently, Thranduil could feel the cold mask settling over his features.

“There is another option.” Thranduil stated, although from his last comment, Thranduil was getting the idea that Elrond was not going to be very receptive to his theory.

“And what is that?” Elrond asked, still focussed on the road.

“They were people who were looking for us, knew where we were likely to set down for the night.” Thranduil explained.

“And who on earth would know that?” Elrond asked, he must know by now where Thranduil was going with this.

“Bard would know.” Thranduil said anyway, and beside him Elrond sighed.

“Bard is gone Thranduil, you need to accept it.” He told him gently.

Thranduil wanted to argue, he wanted to fight, shake everyone in this stupid convoy and demand they believe him, that he wasn’t losing his mind, he really had seen him.

But he did not.

“No, he is not. I only wish you would believe it.” He said softly, rising from his seat and heading back through the caravan to go sit with Bain and join in his card game.

It was sometime in the afternoon when the convoy slowed down and a voice crackled through the radio.

“We’ve got a sighting up ahead.” Biblo’s voice came through, must be him and Thorin on scout.

“Corpses?” Aragorn asked, voice poised, ready to turn the convoy around.

“No, seems to be a man and two young boys. I think we need to stop. The man looks hurt, they’re not even moving.” Bilbo continued.

“What if he’s bitten?” Radagast’s concerned voice that time.

“Then we take the boys and leave him, there’s nothing we can do.” Tauriel’s voice cut through, so much harder than before Kili had died.

“Agreed. Elrond, Éowyn, Thranduil, join us in the jeep, Bilbo, Thorin, pull back to the convoy.” Aragorn instructed.

The choice was a good one, it put enough fighter in the jeep to be safe, along with a healer and the trustworthy face and voice of Éowyn, she was good at putting people at ease.

He joined the others in the jeep without a work, still not exactly on speaking terms with anyone there but Éowyn, and he wasn’t exactly chatty at the best of times anyway.

They pulled up a few metres from the group, the two boys were trying to help their fallen adult, who looked barely alive.

“Do you need help?” Aragron called out, and the two boys jumped, grabbing on to each other and standing in front of the man, like they meant to protect him.

It was disarmingly brave.

“S-stay away.” One of them called, firming up his voice after a small waver.

“We mean you no harm.” Éowyn called. “We only want to help.” The boys looked caught between not believing them and really needing to believe them because they clearly needed help.

“I’m a doctor, will you let me come close?” Elrond asked, trying not to spook the boys.

They discussed something between themselves before one of them nodded cautiously.

Elrond rushed over, dropping down beside the man, checking him over as the rest of their group approached more slowly the boys distracted by Elrond.

“These wounds were not sustained by corpses.” Elrond commented, not finding any bite marks upon the man, and the boys shook their head in agreement. “What happened?”

“W-we lost Boromir a few days ago, an’ I guess it made us look weak. Other people, they came, stole everything. Did that when Faramir tried to fight them off by himself.” One of the boys answered, worrying at his bottom lip and pointing to the worst of the man’s injuries – Faramir apparently.

That certainly explained their distrust of other people.

“Is he going to die?” One of the boys asked.

“No, I do not think he will.” Elrond answered after a moment. “But we need to get him inside, to all my things.”

“Oh, okay. Where should we go?” One of the boys asked, clearly not realised that they were joining the convoy whether they wanted to or not, leaving children behind was not their style.

“You boys can ride with me if you like.” Éowyn offered, she had a little space in her small van.

“You mean we can come with you?” One of the boys asked, eyes gone wide as he looked at the convoy, which probably looked incredible safe and well stocked from where he stood.

“Of course.” Éowyn smiled back and the boys looked like they had just had the weight of the entire world lifted from their shoulders. “What are your names?”

“Merry.” One of the boys answered, the one with a rounder nose.

“Pippin.” The other one declared, a slight lilt in his voice.

They helped Elrond with Faramir back to the convoy, they would do proper introductions in the evening, when everyone was about and the boys had had some time to settle in.

It was a few days before Faramir was lucid and speaking, but he did appear to be on the mend, if more from Éowyn’s visits bearing food and gentle conversation, or Elrond’s medicine was up for debate though.

In a strange way, the boys reminded Thranduil of Fili and Kili, or what he imagined they were like when they were younger anyway.

It was the fourth night after collecting them that Faramir limped out of his assigned bed with the help of Éowyn and joined them for dinner, finally meeting everyone.

“Ah, you’ve finally decided to join us.” Aragron smiled as Faramir sat down on one of the makeshift benches.

“Apparently so.” Faramir smiled, suppressing a wince as he lowered himself.

“So what’s your story?” Thorin asked what we all wanted to know but were slightly too tactful to outright ask, they were often not pleasant stories these days.

“Thorin!” Bilbo scolded, slapping his arm, even though his face gave away that he really wanted to know as well.

“No but really what is it?” Nori piped up, unashamed in his nosiness and managing to make everyone laugh.

“I was at home in the city when it all started, with my father. My brother had been a few towns over. I did our best to get us out the city, but I lost my father on the way.” Faramir started his story, Thranduil noted that he didn’t seem too broken up about the death of his father.

“I didn’t really know what to do, so I just headed for the town Boromir had been in. It took me a long time, but I got there. When I found him he was looking after Merry and Pippin, taken them in. After that we were all right for a while, not great, but we were surviving okay. Then a week before you found us we ran into a herd, it was, it was massive. I had no idea they got that big. They got Boromir, he went down giving us time to get out. Then a few days later we were attacked by people, that’s how I got these injuries.”

Faramir finished with a gulp of air, Thranduil understood, the corpses didn’t know better, the people did. When you were attacked by people, it was just worse in every way.

Everyone nodded sadly and offered Faramir and the boys their condolences, Thranduil noticed Faramir and Éowyn’s hands tucked together. 

After that the story trading started, everyone retelling what they had been through, how they had ended up with the convoy. It wasn’t exactly surprising that all of these stories involved Bard. Thranduil was torn between hurting and smiling every time someone remembered him.

He missed him so much, even if he believed with all his heart he was still out there, that he would see him again, he still missed him so much.

It wasn’t a shock when Faramir finally asked.

“Where is this Bard, he seems to be the hero of most of your stories.” He laughed happily, probably imagining that such a hero could never fall.

Everyone sat around winced, never glances being shot at Thranduil, he didn’t miss them, and neither did Faramir.

“Bard is my husband.” Thranduil said slowly after a long pause. “We started the convoy.”

Thranduil offered no more information, Faramir looked confused by the complete non-answer to his question, and the worried looks the others were sharing.

“Is he…?” Faramir started, some others nodded solemnly.

“No.” Thranduil answered firmly, pressing on before anyone could interrupt him. “He went on a raid with Tauriel, Aragorn, Thorin and Haldir. They lost sight of him and left him behind.”

It was harsh and cold, but as far as Thranduil was concerned that was what had happened. Faramir spoke before anyone else had recovered from Thranduil’s cruel words.

“You don’t believe he is dead?” He asked.

“Not for a second.” Thranduil confirmed.

“Thranduil, he’s gone, it’s a blind hope, you need to let go.” Elrond pushed, worry clouding his face.

“I saw him.” Thranduil growled. “I saw his stupid red plaid shirt and messy brown hair and no, I am not imagining it. I saw him. Which is more than you did before you decided to abandon him.” He spat, ready to get up and leave, but Faramir’s next words halted him.

“Red plaid and messy brown hair? Is he about six foot with a soft welsh lilt in his voice?” Faramir asked.

“Yes!” Thranduil shouted breathlessly. “You’ve seen him!?”

“Well I’ve seen someone who fits that description.” Faramir told him, Thranduil felt elated.

“Where? When?” Thranduil demanded, hope bubbling over in his voice.

“A few weeks ago, he was with a small group. He asked us if we wanted to come with them, but the others in the group looked less than enthusiastic at the idea, so we refused.” Faramir explained, smiling gently at Thranduil, Thranduil ignored the concerned look everyone else was sharing.

“Did he say where he was headed?” Thranduil pressed, only just managing to refrain from shaking Faramir by the shoulders.

“Yeah he said he was heading to the coast, that we should too. He said that he was hoping to find someone there.” He added, he seemed just as happy about being able to tell Thranduil this as Thranduil was about hearing it.

“That’s him, it’s Bard! It has to be!” Thranduil exclaimed, leading to four little bodies tumbling out the caravan from their eavesdropping.

“He’s seen da!” They all shouted excitedly, barrelling over and jumping onto Thranduil in their excitement.

“I think he has.” Thranduil told them happily, letting them use him as a climbing frame in their excitement.

“Four children?” Faramir observed with a laugh that Thranduil shared with a nod.

“So he’s really still out there! We’re going to find him again!” Tilda shrieked happily, clambering around on Thranduil with Legolas while Bain and Sigrid bounced around laughing and shouting about all the things they were going to do and play when da was back.

“Yes we are.” Thranduil grinned at his youngest daughter, tossing her up in the air and then doing the same to Legolas. “But right now, you should all be in bed.” Thranduil declared and all the children groaned predictably.

“But Adaaaaaaaaa.” Legolas whined dramatically.

“We’re not tired anymore.” Bain protested, all of them hair their very best pleading faces on.

“We can’t go to sleep now!” Sigrid said, skipping in excited little circles around Thranduil.

“Please let us stay up ada, please please please please.” Tilda begged and Thranduil laughed ruffling her hair.

“Whatever will your da say if we find him and you’re all tired because I let you stay up?” Thranduil teased, and they all looked a little torn. “I’ll tell you what, back to bed and I will tell you a story.”

“The one with the dragons?” Bain asked, half convinced.

“Of course.” Thranduil smiled, and they all seemed to just about accept it as a compromise, probably because they really were quite tired.

Thranduil did not miss the hushed chatter that started up around the camp as soon as he left with the children. He knew they would be telling Faramir that Bard was dead, not to encourage Thranduil’s delusions, probably worrying about the children. But Thranduil knew, he knew, that Faramir had seen Bard.

He was alive.

And they were both going the same way.

They would find each other again.

March 24^th 2016

I am writing this entry on the 25^th, but it is about yesterday and I have only just gotten up, so I think it still counts, who’s going to tell me it doesn’t anyway.

We found some time alone today. Everyone was exhausted, nerves were fried, so we took a risk and didn’t drive too far, finding a spot that had good visibility for us and seemed rather deserted.

It was a good choice, we didn’t move until the next morning, everyone had needed the recuperation I think, the last few days had left everyone stressed.

Tauriel did us a kindness though, taking the kids in the afternoon for some games with her and Elrond and Lindir, they were in good hands. Sometimes it was nice to be alone, just two adults, I think you begin to crave it after a while.

Thranduil revealed a bottle of wine he had pilfered on a raid and had been saving we enjoyed it over and early dinner, we danced without music, wrapped up in each others arms.

I have to write it down while I still remember every moment. I want to savour it. Relive it on the bad days.

We swayed together, trading lazy kisses. Thran’s kisses are like nothing else, so very soft and fierce all at once. I love raking my hands through his hair when we kiss, I love the way he fists his hands into my shirt when it gets heavier. I love everything about him.

Even after years the feel of his tongue against mine is like a drug, heady and rich, I don’t know what I would do if I lost them. Lost any of him.

He started tugging at my shirt, slipping his hands under and teasing at the hair under my belly button. I love it when he does that. I moved my kisses to his neck, that is one of his favourite things.

Slowly we edged our way backward towards our small bed, silently communicating with each other, I felt like I could drown in his touches. It had been a long time since when had had the time to indulge in each other like we did.

We settled down on the bed, Thran below me in the way he preferred, I never want to forget the feeling of the cradle of his legs. I mapped him with my mouth, committing every inch of him to memory. I will never forget the taste of him, the softness of the skin behind his knees, the ticklishness of his smooth sides, the feel of his chest under my explorative mouth.

I will never forget the feel of him around me, the way I feel complete, feel like I am home. I will never forget the little noises he makes, on the way he holds on to my shoulders, how open his face falls, the way he smiles every time I call him perfect, and beautiful, no matter how many times I have said it before.

I love the way he throws his head back as I bury myself over and over, the slackened look of pure bliss on his face as he finishes. The way he wraps himself around me like a big cat afterwards, tucking himself in as close as possible and always giving out that happy little sigh.

He was sleepy after, as he always is, it makes me smile. I escaped from his long limbs only to grab a cloth to clean him up with, settling back down under the covers as he snuggled back against me, hair tickling my nose when I breathed.

He sleeps better when I hold him. I never want to let go.

I lost count of how many times I told him I loved him, I tell him every single day, tell the children too, just in case.

I never want there to be a last time, I never want there to be a last anything between us.

Thranduil held the diary close to his chest, fighting back his tears once again. He remembered that time just as clearly as Bard had written it, he needed him back. He needed him so much.

The next few days felt like the longest of his life, on constant alert not for corpses, but for Bard. Thranduil felt like he could be around any bend, waiting just behind the treeline with this small group Faramir had said he was travelling with.

But of course they did not come across him on the road, that would be far too simple, no it had to be in the dead of night or in the middle of a raid.

At least they were heading in the same direction, heading for the coast, the promise of safety.

“Do you any idea how much longer it is going to take us to get to the coast?” Thranduil asked, unable to help his impatience, he had no idea where they were, or how close to the coast they were.

Everyone had lost track of the days, Bard and his diary used to be the only things keeping track. Thranduil hardly let go of that diary nowadays, it felt like holding onto a piece of Bard, and he wasn’t about to let go now.

“I am not entirely sure.” Elrond replied carefully, everyone was always so careful around him at the moment, as if he was going mad, but Thranduil knew better. “However, I think we are getting close.”

“Close? What does that mean? A week more? A month?” Thranduil pushed, knowing it was hard for Elrond to estimate really, but hoping he would try nonetheless.

“Somewhere between a week and a month probably.” He reasoned and that was good enough for Thranduil right now.

In the grand scheme of this journey, that was soon.

Every day brought them closer to the coast, closer to safety. Closer to Bard.

He didn’t even care that no one but his own children and interestingly Faramir seemed to believe what he had seen, they would see, when Bard came back, they would see.

Faramir was good. There was no other word for him really. He was just a good man, through and through. And no matter what the others were saying to him, he stuck to his guns, he never said he could guarantee it had been Bard, but he wouldn’t say that it wasn’t either. He was an honest man, and the man he saw fitted the description of Bard perfectly, he refused to take that away from Thranduil and the children, no matter what the others said and thought.  

It sometimes even seemed like Éowyn was slowly becoming convinced herself, accepting the possibility that it might have been Bard after all.

The others wold not. Thranduil didn’t understand it. They wouldn’t even entertain the possibility. He knew that they were worried about him, that they had good intentions, were trying to keep him safe. They were scared the loss of Bard was destroying it, but how could that be the case, when Thranduil wasn’t convinced he had lost him, not for good anyway.

But according to Elrond they were closer to the coast than he had dared hope. They might be taking slightly separate paths to get there, but that was where Bard was headed as well.

In less than a month he might see him again.

He could hardly bear it.

The days had been so grey since he disappeared.

But unfortunately they were not at the coast yet, which meant more raids still needed to happen to get them there.

And of course the thing that no one was talking about, that Elrond might be wrong, that there was no haven, that his mother in law was not guiding people to safety, that it really was all just a myth.

They didn’t talk about that.

But they did keep their supplies up, just in case, just in case.

Even if they didn’t talk about it, they were prepared.

When they set down for the night, Aragorn started planning the next raid, a smaller town and a large town they should come to tomorrow.

“It’s bigger than we usually hit, but most of the smaller places so far have been completely emptied lately. We’ll check out the small town first, but I doubt we’re going to find much, so I think we need to prepare to have to hit the larger one as well.” Aragorn said with a grimace, large towns were never ideal.

“A larger group of raiders then, if we need to risk the big town.” Dwalin added, nodding to show his agreement, it was a good idea to plan for them both.

“Yes, I don’t like forcing people to come on these ones, so if people are prepared to volunteer that would be good.” Aragorn opened the floor to them, but not before he had sent Thranduil a look, he nodded, he would go.

“I’ll go.” Dwalin was the first to offer.

“Me too.” Thorin that time.

“I’m in.” Agreed Éomer.

“Of course.” Tauriel nodded sharply when Aragorn looked to her.

“I couldn’t let you go in alone.” Beorn’s gruff voice said.

“Anyone else?” Aragorn asked, they had enough, seven, but one more could never hurt.

“I’ll come.” Faramir offered.

“No you will not.” Elrond said seriously, giving him a look that could only mean ‘sit down right now before you aggravate your stitches.

“Let me come.” Éowyn said firmly, everyone looked uneasy.

“You’ve never been on a raid before.” Aragorn pointed out gently.

“No, but I can fight. I want to fight.” Éowyn pushed, Thranduil watched curiously.

“But you’ve never been in a fight, it’s different out here.” Éomer told her, no doubt keen for his sister not to be put in danger.

“Everyone here who is not a child has the right to fight for us, why not me.” Éowyn protested.

“Éowyn, you don’t und– ” Thorin started, but Thranduil cut him off.

“Let her come.” Thranduil stated, voice firm, everyone looked at him with surprise.

“But– ” Aragorn began.

“But what? Everyone else here is afforded the chance to fight for those they care about. She can fight, I have seen her. She’s better than a lot of you.” Thranduil said, and it was true, he had even helped her practice on occasion.

She had fire in her belly, even if the others could not see it.

Faramir could see it, from the way he was looking at her, he could see the fight in her. Perhaps that was why they had become so close so fast. They didn’t underestimate each other.

“If she wants to, she comes.” Thranduil said firmly, in a voice that brokered no argument.

Éowyn mouthed ‘thank you’ to him across the circle, he smiled in return, she would show them.

Arwen did not offer, which was unusual and turned a few heads. But Thranduil was not surprised, he had a sneaking suspicion that she was eating for two now. He sincerely hoped that there really was a safe place somewhere, no baby should be born into this world.

Eventually they scattered off to bed, except for the people on watch for the night, Éomer shooting Thranduil daggers as they went. As far as Thranduil could see the only person liable to endanger the raid was Éomer paying more attention to his sister than his surroundings, hopefully that would not happen.

But still they held out hope and the next day they went to the small town in a smaller raiding party, but as predicted it was like a ghost town. The shops and houses looked completely cleaned out, there weren’t even any corpses limping around.

It was unnerving.

With a bit of reluctance, they headed back to the convoy, ready to stop again before the day was over to hit the larger town.

They had to take the truck so that there was room for them all, they needed numbers this time, the chance of them running into a large amount of corpses meant you either wanted a small team or a large one, and given that they needed a lot of supplies, it had to be a large one.

Éomer tried to talk Éowyn out of coming with them again, but to no avail, Thranduil made sure she had good weapons, gifting her the sword he had let her practice with on many occasions, making sure she had a couple of guns as well.

They didn’t talk on the way, with the exception of Aragorn outlining a plan. The plan was the same as always, get in, get out, stick together. They all knew how this went, even Éowyn knew how this went she had heard it planned so many times.

They left the truck where it would hopefully be relatively obscured and not overrun by the time they got out, the eight of them crept up towards the large supermarket they were aiming for, which was blissfully not right in the town centre.

But they weren’t even at the door when the first ones were spotted.

“Corpses at ten o’clock.” Éomer barked, already aiming his guns and taking some down with dead on head shots.

It was a large group, they weren’t even inside yet.

“Okay, Éomer, Beorn, Dwalin, try and hold them back. The rest of you, with me, we’re going in, we have to be fast.” Aragorn shouted, breaking into a run.

They followed, Thranduil and Tauriel could run a lot faster than the others, but getting too far ahead of the group was dangerous. They could hear the sounds of the fight starting behind them, but they didn’t look back, they all knew better.

The moment they were through the doors they were set upon by another herd, one of them almost taking a chunk out of Tauriel’s arm, but Éowyn had its head off its shoulders just in time.

“Go!” Éowyn shouted, turning with the intent to hold back this hoard while everyone else searched for supplies.

“I’ll stay with her, the rest of you go.” Thranduil ordered, throwing his rucksack to Tauriel to be filled, knowing there was no way anyone would be able to hold them all back alone, even with the two of them, they wouldn’t last long until they were overwhelmed, but they had to keep the exit clear.

Thranduil could hear Aragorn calling out orders to the others as they ran into the shop, taking down the corpses lingering in the aisles, but he tuned him out, letting his focus narrow down to the fight in front of him.

He could see the ones to his front, groaning and swiping out for them, taking them out with more of a muscle memory than an active thought. He sensed more than saw the ones to his left, just out of sight, removing their heads without even needing to turn and look, arcing his swords around behind him.

Beside him Éowyn fought with fervour, far less elegance the he had, but just as effective. She swung her sword – for it was hers now – with all the force she had, throwing her whole body into every stroke, hacking back at the corpses that just kept coming.

Together they managed to keep them back, but only barely. The others needed to hurry up, or they would never be able to get out of this shop.

And Thranduil really didn’t fancy dying when Bard felt so close he could almost reach out and touch him.

Thranduil redoubled his efforts, slashing his blades with a swiftness and accuracy that shouldn’t have been possible, holding on to the thought of Bard.

He could feel the sticky black substance that probably used to be blood streaking his face, he did his best to ignore it. Out the corner of his eye he saw one grab hold of Éowyn’s arm, he had the hand off of the corpse’s wrist and its head from its shoulders before Éowyn could blink. They weren’t going to last much longer.

It was probably only a minute, but it felt like an hour before the others were racing back towards them, corpses limping after them as well, but the rucksacks were full to the bursting and the way out was still clear.

He and Éowyn had had to take a few steps backwards, give a little ground, but the way out was still clear. Aragorn and the others charged past, holding the doors open for Éowyn and Thranduil to dash out through.

“Ready?” Thranduil called, knowing they needed to move at the same time or the other would likely be grabbed.

“Ready.” Éowyn confirmed, slightly out of breath but still fighting with the same intensity that she had started with.

“Okay, three, two, one, run!” Thranduil shouted, and with one final swing of their swords, they were running out the door.

Tauriel and the others were organised, slamming them shut right behind them, throwing a bit of wood through the handles to hold them back for long enough for them to get away.

They charged back towards the others, still fighting back the other hoard of corpses and looking more than a little worse for wear, but they were on their toes, and running with them as soon as they went past. The pack hot on their heels to start with – you would not want to trip right now – but they were dropping back.

They were unable to run like the living could, confirming further to Thranduil that it had been Bard the other night. The more they ran the more they drew ahead from the herd of corpses. Éomer tripped on a bit of debris on the floor, but Beorn had him by the scruff, dragging him along until Éomer got his feet organised and was running again himself.  

They threw themselves into the truck and Aragorn was pulling away, foot flat on the floor trying to get the truck to accelerate and get them out of there as fast as possible. When they were moving fast and safely out of the danger zone they all let out a sigh of relief, then that ‘we almost died’ laughter that adrenalin forces out of you.

Thranduil saw Éomer looking over his sister for injuries, and once satisfied that all the sticky black blood on her was not her own, finally let her be.

“I could not have done it without her.” Thranduil said when he caught Éomer’s eye.

“Of course you couldn’t, she’s incredible. Doesn’t mean I’m not going to check her for injuries every time she comes back. She’s still my little sister.” Éomer replied, and Thranduil liked that answered, offering a smile, it suggested that he was going to stop protesting her wanting to come.   

The ones that had made it into the aisles of the shop had managed to cram everything they needed into the bags, leaving them well stocked for a little while at least, maybe even enough to get them to the coast. It felt good, like a weight off, one less thing to worry about for now.

For the first time Thranduil really allowed himself to believe they were going to make it.

They were all going to make it.

April 4^th 2016

It was a pretty uneventful day. But that’s good. The uneventful days are always the best. Because if you aren’t being hounded by corpses all the time, then you have time to pay attention to the more important things that always end up in the backseat somehow.

But not today.

Thran continues to be amazing, far more than I or anyone deserves. He had a surprise for us today, all of us. A long while back he had managed to swipe some materials on a raid, and since then he had been making them all knew clothes in the secrecy of Éowyn’s van.

The best thing about them was that they were completely and utterly impractical. Pretty and elegant dresses for Sigrid and Tilda, smart little jackets and capes for the Bain and Legolas, and for me a beautiful coat. I don’t know where he found the time.

I love how impractical they are. Reminds me so much of all the ridiculous ostentatious clothes Thranduil used to deck himself out in before all hell broke loose. I felt like we got something back today, a part of ourselves that had been missing.

The kids wouldn’t take them off all day, running around in them inside the caravan, showing them off to everyone else, dancing around and playing games, managing to rope lots of people into it with them.

I told Thranduil that the coat he made reminded me of the one he had given more for our first anniversary, he said that was why he made it, he missed it. We’ve lost a lot, but we haven’t lost each other, and I guess that is what matters really, when it comes down to it.

I spent the day with my husband and children, Bain decided he wanted to take a turn driving and frankly I couldn’t see the harm, so I sat up with him showing him how to drive (although the pedals were my area as his legs can’t reach them yet) so really he was just steering.

And of course as soon as Bain had had a go, everyone else wanted a go as well, Legolas did nearly drove us into a ditch, Thran found it hilarious, he could barely breath he was laughing so hard as Bard swerved them back onto the road with the rest of the convoy.

If she could reach the pedals properly, Sigrid could actually probably drive herself, but she needs to find herself a growth spurt soon. Tilda was concentrating so hard she had her tongue stuck out the whole time, glaring at the road. Cute as a button and filled with future road rage I have no doubt.

In the afternoon Thran and I filled up the caravan with singing, silly songs and love songs and songs we only knew half the words too and made up song and songs that we hadn’t heard in years, dancing away with each other and the children in the caravan during a pause from driving.

The kids spinning around and pirouetting and leaping about to our singing in their pretty clothes that Thran had made, capes and dresses twirling and for those blissful moments, I think we all forgot where we were, what was happening in the world, because it was just so much like it used to be at home.

In indulgent moments, I let myself miss home. Our house with the comfy beds and treading on toys that the kids had left lying around, getting jumped on by four pairs of knobbly knees as a wakeup call on the weekends, coming home to find Thran and the kids covered in flour and with sheepish expressions because they tried and failed to bake something.

I miss being nagged to allow various pets, I miss the deer that used to gravitate to Thranduil in the back garden, I miss the terrible dirty weekends that Thran used to surprise me with occasionally, I miss Tilda’s lucky cup with the butterflies on it, and Legolas’ magic Robin Hood plasters, and Sigrid’s rainbow scrunchy that meant nothing bad could happen, and Bain’s silly stick on tattoos.  I miss lazy weekends when we piled downstairs with our duvets and no one got out of their pyjamas and we would watch terrible TV and pig out on pizza.

I miss a lot of things, but I only let myself miss them for a moment.

All that really matters is that I still have my family, we all have each other, we don’t have to miss each other.

When we set up camp for the night, I went out and found some flowers, I spent hours running my hands through Thranduil’s hair and braiding the flowers into it, his hair looked like it did the day we got married.

I’ve missed being able to do that, just sit around for hours and luxuriate in each other, I wish we could do it more often.

Thran is asleep on my chest even as I write this, he looks so peaceful, he’s smiling in his sleep, he hasn’t done that in a long time.

I have to believe we will survive this, I’m not finished yet. Our story can’t be done, I’m not ready for that.

I’ll never be ready for that.

I will always find him again, in this life or the next.

But for now, I will sleep with him in my arms and the snores of our children around us.

They are a glimmer of hope in this desolate world.

A blue sky.

There is something about the coast, it lets you know you are close before you can actually see it.

Perhaps it is the smell in the air, the sea bracing sea air.

It was the birds. He could hear them.

He hadn’t heard birds in a very long time.

The skies were just as grey as they always were these days. Yet somehow it felt light, like the air wasn’t as thick, wasn’t as oppressive, wasn’t as wrong.

They were so close.

“Do you hear that!” Faramir shouted excitedly down the radio.

“Birds! It’s birds!” Radagast wooped loudly and happily back down the line.

“We’re almost there!” Arwen cried out in relief through the crackly radio.

They were at the head of the convoy, Elrond driving and leading the way, accelerating more than a little, hopped up on hope.

The kids were shouting and dancing around, Thranduil and Lindir joining in with them, their excitement contagious.

“We’re going to see da!” The kids were shouting.

“Yes we are.” Thranduil agreed, scooping them all up and sinking them into a bone crushing hug.

He couldn’t have made it without them.

They waited at the front of the caravan with baited breath, knowing the sea would come into sight at any moment, then all they had to do was find Elrond’s mother in law. But Elrond knew where she would be, he had grown up around here, even now as the landscape was dying and desolate, Thranduil could tell he still knew it’s every contour.

The happy screams and shouts could be heard from the entire convoy without the need for the radio as they passed over a hill and suddenly stretching out in front of them was the open water.

Even as the skies were dark and the wind bracing, the water looked so pure, like it didn’t quite belong in this dying place anymore.

Elrond led the convoy down to the cold beach, down the hill and through a line of trees, everyone holding their breath once again as he searched for what – who – they had come for.

Elrond saw her before everyone else, stopping the caravan suddenly and running out the door, racing down the beach, after that everyone started to see her, joining Elrond in running towards her, Thranduil hositing up Legolas and Tilda into his arms and keeping pace with Bain and Sigrid as they dashed towards her.

She was real, it was really her, not some myth to give people hope. She was really there.

And Thranduil could see why people whispered of her as an angel. Thranduil could see the beautiful gently waving long blonde hair, dressed in white she seemed to glow, and as he got closer Thranduil could see she look impossibly younger than she must be.

Galadriel, Elrond had said her name was, lady of light.

She greeted them all with a soft smile as they reached her.

“I was beginning to think you had gotten lost.” She teased, everyone laughing.

There was a boat behind her. Beautiful and white, like it was carved out of the finest trees.

“Is it true? That there is a place away from this curse?” Bilbo asked, a squirming Frodo in his arms trying to grab onto Galadriel’s dress.

“There are unpolluted lands to the west yes. We can take haven there until this storm has passed, then we can rebuild.” She said, voice so calming, her words cryptic but full of hope, Thranduil didn’t even care what these western lands were, they must’ve had a name once, but that mattered little now.

“When can we go!?” Pippin asked excitedly, Galadriel smiled at him as well.

“As soon as you are ready.” Was her answer.

They all understood, rushing back to the convoy to grab the things they didn’t want to leave behind, keepsakes they had managed to hold onto.

There was only one problem.

Thranduil wasn’t ready to leave, no without Bard.

He and the children returned to their caravan, the only thing Thranduil picked up was the diary, Tilda her teddy, Sigrid the book Bard had gotten her, Legolas his own soft toy, Bain the family photo he hardly let go of. They stuffed a bag full of the clothes Thranduil had made for them once, including Bard’s coat, and made their way back down the beach.

That was when the children started dragging their feet.

“But ada, what about da?” Sigrid asked voice brimming with worry, biting down on her lip, the others stopped with her, clearly speaking for them all.

They all looked about ready to cry.

“We will not leave without him. I promise.” Thranduil said firmly. “We’ll wait for him and the others won’t leave us. We will not leave without him. You just watch, any second now he will come bursting through those trees right there.” Thranduil promised.

And he believed it, he had to, he couldn’t let himself doubt now.

But the others were wondering why they were taking so long, calling out to them as they walked slowly backwards, never taking their eyes off the treeline. Eventually coming to a complete stop a few metres from the others.

“Come on Thranduil, kids, we can get out of here, let’s go.” Aragorn called.

“Not without Bard.” Thranduil responded, knowing it was exactly what they had feared hearing.

“Thranduil no don’t do this, we need to leave.” Elrond begged him, coming up beside him.

“He’ll be here.” Thranduil growled back, he did not want to fight.

“He won’t Thranduil, he’s dead.” Tauriel pushed, the whole group starting to crowd around them, but none of them being foolish enough to try and block his view of the treeline.

The children huddled close to him, watching the trees.

“He is not. We can wait for him.” Thranduil replied fiercely.

“No Thranduil, we need to go.” Thorin insisted, they were crowding in.

“I will not let you leave him a second time.” Thranduil spat back at them.

“We won’t leave you Thranduil, we owe you too much. Don’t make us force you.” Dwalin threatened.

“If you owe me so much then you owe Bard more. You will wait.” Thranduil shot back.

“Hey, what’s the harm if we wait a bit?” Éowyn asked with a nodding Faramir beside him, but they were drowned out or ignore by the others.

“He’s gone Thranduil. You have to let him go.” Bilbo implored him.

“Stop saying that!” Thranduil roared at them. “You’re wrong, you may have left him to die but he didn’t, I saw him, he will come.”

That seemed to be the end of their tether because suddenly hands were grabbing him, trying to push him back and manhandle him into the boat. He shoved them off, he was stronger than them.

Galadriel didn’t say anything, nor did she move, but she was watching the trees as well.

Then Tauriel reached for Tilda and Thranduil had a hand around her throat so fast and tight that everyone gasped.

“If you touch her you will regret it.” Thranduil snarled, releasing Tauriel and letting her drop to the floor.

But that only served to redouble their efforts to get Thranduil into the boat pushing and pulling at him, move hands grabbing him than he could force away.

That was when he heard it so distant that he almost thought he had imagined it, a call of his name, of the kids’ names.

Then the children yelled and started running as fast as their legs would take them.

Thranduil eventually managed to force them all off him, joining his children in the run, though they were a little way ahead already.

“Bard!” Thranduil’s shouts joined the children’s cries of ‘da!’.

“Thran! Kids!” They heard again.

None of them had ever run faster, not when they were being chased, not ever.

A few hundred metres ahead, a figure crashed through the treeline, a figure in a silly red plaid shirt and with messy brown hair.

Thranduil was crying as they all ran towards each other, tears streaming down his face as they shouted themselves horse for each other.

They crashed together, crumpling together in the sand, crying, clinging to one another tight enough to leave bruises. Bard was drowning them all in kisses, tears tracking down his own face.

“I missed you so much, oh god I thought I would never see you again.” Bard panted into them, exhilaration and relief stealing his breath.

“I love you so much.” Thranduil sobbed back. “I never believed for a second, not for a second that you’d – ” He choked off into another sob.

“Da we missed you.” Sigrid cried, gripping onto her da so very tight.

“Don’t ever go away again.” Legolas demanded, digging his little face into Bard’s neck.

“Everyone thought you were dead but we didn’t da.” Bain told him, holding on like Bard might vanish if he did not.

“They tried to make us leave without you, but we wouldn’t, we wouldn’t.” Tilda shouted desperately even though Bard could hear her just fine.

“I know you wouldn’t, I know.” Bard reassured.

Eventually they cried themselves out, the others too embarrassed and ashamed to approach them. None of them sure what to say as the reunited family came back over to them.

But Bard did, Bard always knew what to say. 

“I am so sorry Bard, we thought, we really thought – ” Aragorn started, but Bard stopped him with a hand on the shoulder.

“Well done for getting them here, you did good.” Bard told him, a note of finality in his voice not to be argued with, everyone seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

“I would not have let them leave.” Galadriel smiled at Bard and Thranduil, and Thranduil believed it, something about her made him believe it.

They waited five minutes for the few people Bard had been travelling with to turn up, all of them piling onto the boat.

The boat set off and Thranduil, Bard and the kids stood together, watching the horizon.

“Bard, look.” Thranduil whispered, pointing to a spot up high and in the distance, as if speaking loudly might scare it away.

It was just a sliver, a tiny gap in the clouds, it was more than they had seen in years.

It was a blue sky.