Much later, I lay in bed- mulling over the brief information Balin had shared. I gazed up into the root-laden ceiling of my bedchamber until I could no longer remain idle. I rose from bed and purposely set about undoing the elven braids that bound my hair. My curls sprung on their own accord and I inspected my reflection.

I could not understand Thorin's frustration with me- surely if a voice carried with the volume of many in this hall, then surely he heard the entire conversation between the elf king and me. But perhaps, he could only hear Thranduil's remarks…and so he did not know... Of course he would find himself in a rage at the sight of the braids in my hair, for Thranduil put them there to taunt him, I realised.

I hastened down the steps that would bring me to Thorin, and I found his cell shrouded in darkness. "Thorin?" I called out faintly.

"Lyra?" I ducked my head in embarrassment when I realised I had woken him. "What has happened?" he pressed.

"Nothing," I assured him. My heart fluttered frantically in my chest as I sat on the steps in front of his cell. I blushed under the intensity of his gaze; his eyes seemed to be everywhere at once. I slid along the step I was perched on until my back was pressed against the chill metal that separated me from the dwarf prince.

"Lyra-"

"-Thorin," I interjected tenderly, "I know. Will you braid my hair?" My heart clenched nervously as the doubt crept its way in. What if Thorin did not love me? I made to retreat to my chambers with the dwindling remains of my pride- I had been so foolish.

Thick, albeit deft fingers threading through my hair stopped me. With a practised languid ease, I did know he possessed, Thorin set about braiding my hair. "Hold still," he murmured thickly.

I only moved to crane my head back to grant him further access, and then began to softly sing, my voice growing in verve. "Far over the misty mountains cold/ To dungeons deep and caverns old/ We must away, ere break of day/ To seek the pale enchanted gold./ The dwarves of yore made mighty spells/ While hammers fell like ringing bells/ In places deep, where dark things sleep;/ In hollow halls beneath the fells[…]/ Far over the misty mountains grim/ To dungeons deep and caverns dim/ We must away, ere break of day/ To win [your] harps and gold from him!"

"You know the song."

"Bilbo told me it- it has become the song of people who will reclaim their homeland," I replied. My brow furrowed in confusion when I felt Thorin thread something through the end of my recently acquired plait, his fingers lingered in my hair. "Thorin?" I inquired. I reached back to bring the braid over my shoulder; my eyes widened when I saw one of Thorin's beads fastened in place. "Thorin?" I repeated.

"You may not be of Durin blood, but I do desire that you will be in name," Thorin vowed softly.

I could do little but reach between the bars and begin a plait of my own in his thick mane. His silver tinged ebony tresses slid smoothly through my fingers like ink. I, too, took my time crafting a braid, and then fastened the bead I had found long ago in the pool in Rivendell.

"How came you by this?" Thorin murmured.

"Back in Rivendell…when I was swimming- it was on the bottom of the pool," I answered softly.

"This is from the first line of Durin…we believed them all lost long ago."

"Perhaps it was meant to be found by me-"

"-King Thranduils summons you to his quarters," a guard grunted, and hauled me to my feet. He pulled me along, and despite my best efforts, I could not free myself.

"Let her go!" Thorin shouted, and our friends followed suite in their own protests.

"I will be fine!" I called hastily, before he vanished from my sight. I was taken away from the family I had found in this world, and brought to Thranduil's feet. The elf king idly waved his hand in dismissal to the guards posted around us, and then regarded my person with a quirked brow. His eyes lingered on the bead gleaming gaily in the faint light of the flickering torches, but then turned his back to me.

"You summoned me?" I reminded him.

"Do not think that plait's meaning escapes my notice, Lyra," Thranduil drawled smoothly.

"I did not expect there to be any secrecy," I countered.

"Lyra, do you not see the benefit your powers would grant me? Imagine, you could clear away all foul things that lurk within the Wood."

"Does that also entail its fallen king?" I demanded, feigning indifference, "Surely, it must. Thorin was right about you- you lack all honour. You are an oathbreaker, and you seek to boast your power with crown, scepter, and throne! Lady Galadriel of the Golden Wood surpasses you, and yet she does not blatantly demonstrate her authority. You are a coward, Thranduil, who will sooner let his land be consumed by the darkness spreading across this world than step out of your hall," I voiced softly. Thranduil beheld me with wide eyes, and took a step away from me. I took a deep breath to rein in my rage, feeling the fire in my belly reaching dangerous heights, and then added, "If you think for a moment that I will ever forsake my friends and Thorin to be yours- be it your pet or weapon- you are greatly mistaken…for I would rather live the rest of my days alone." I gathered the skirts of my dress, and made my way past him.

CLANK.

My blood ran cold at the feeling of metal encircling my wrist; my dismay grew when my arm was jarred painfully when I tried to wrench myself free. "Release me," I mumbled, voice distant as I beheld the metal chain that slithered along the floor to fasten to the wall beside a large bed.

"You forget to whom you speak," Thranduil warned lowly, prowling about me in maddening circles, "You forget that I know you, Lyra."

"Will you keep me here chained like a beast?" I demanded tersely behind clenched, bared teeth.

"Not a beast," the elf king amended, "But a prize that needs protecting, whether you know it or not. Even when I was a mere child, I vowed to have you. You and the power you possess would benefit my kingdom greatly."

"Release me."

"I know the oath you and that greedy dwarf have sworn to one another. I will not have you perish by dragon fire alongside those fools."

I raised my hand to strike out at Thranduil, but something in me still my hand. I am not my father… Whether Thranduil knew or not, he had spoken those words long ago- he was a child then, but he made a promise nonetheless. It was because of that reminder of the young elf I lowered my clenched fist reluctantly, and levelly met the elf king's gaze. "I would sooner purge myself of my bending than allow you to control me."

"I am patient. I can wait. Thorin Oakenshield will fail- and you will realise your error before the end."