26.

A little boy with wide eyes beneath a mop of tangled hair the color of wheat found Fili and his brother still gazing at the Lonely Mountain and sharing a moment of quiet understanding that was highly uncharacteristic for one of Kili's temper. His Majesty, the Dwarf King summoned them back to the house, the boy stuttered, eying the Dwarves as though they were heroes descended form old tales. For most of Lake Town's inhabitants, it probably did feel as though their home had been invaded by creatures of myth and wonder. With a wry grin, Fili thought that even he did not know in full how true his assessment was.

But he followed the summons and found that Thorin was waiting for them on the threshold of their guest house. Bofur sat on the steps, whittling something with his pocket-knife and murmuring a snatch of song under his breath. Beneath the row of narrow windows, Fëanor and Celegorm flanked Bard and spoke to him in quiet voices.

Under the surface of serious matters being discussed, even a blind man could see that Bard exulted relief to have been accepted. Fili wondered whether Thorin had added him to their company without even going through the motions of consulting anyone, as he had promised at the table. But then, it was not Thorin Oakenshield's acceptance that the man needed the most and judging by his relaxed stance as father and son bracketed him, Fili guessed that Bard had found the welcome he needed among the Elves.

Celegorm turned at the sound of their boots thudding against the wooden pavement of Esgaroth's streets. The Elf smiled at Fili and opened his mouth to say something, but just as quickly, mirth faded from his face and shutters fell over his eyes. Try as he might and even though he sometimes wanted to, Fili had not been able to muster the smallest smile for his friend's benefit, but Celegorm was not supposed to simply let that pass and do nothing! He was not supposed to give Fili that wounded look and then turn away quietly! But Celegorm did just that, he shifted closer to Bard and his head snapped away from Fili so sharply that Celegorm's long braid flew over the Elf's shoulder.

Fresh ire rose inside Fili and he ground his teeth loud enough for the whole of Lake Town to hear. But his uncle's eyes were on him, hard and forbidding. Thorin shook his head slowly, urging Fili to bite back the frustrated growl building inside him.

"We go now to retrieve our belongings," Thorin said. "Bard has told us that he and his men have traveled to the edge of the forest where we were taken and they have found our ponies. Most of them survived the attack and the stampede. Bard has made arrangements with his people to have our animals tended to and to keep safe everything else that fell from us before the spiders drew us away. "

"I must admit, my Lords, that I did not hold much hope of ever returning your belongings to you," Bard said. "But not long after coming upon that desolate scene, we met your companions," the man's eyes turned to Fëanor briefly, drawing a small smile from the Elf. "I would have gone with them on the search, but I was not permitted to," Bard added, as Celegorm shifted at his side, ready to protest. "Instead, I have taken horses and gear and provisions in my custody and I am glad to have been of service even in this small way. Now, if you will follow me, I would show you where your animals are held and return to you items that I am sure are of great value to you."

Fili blinked and tugged gently on one of his whiskers. He wondered if Bard's speech had been delivered for his and Kili's benefit and would have chuckled at the man's stiff politeness. He did not dislike Bard. On quite the contrary, taken at face value, he appeared to be a decent fellow and perhaps, if Thorin (or the Elves) raised no further protest, he would make a good companion on the northbound journey. But so much more lurked beyond the man's appearance and for that, Fili would remain wary.

"Where is everyone else?" Kili asked.

"Most of them are sleeping off the effects of this morning's merry reunion," Bofur grinned in reply.

"Either that, or holding conference," Fëanor added and Fili guessed that he was referring to the rest of his brood. He recalled the shocking panic he had read on the Elves' faces and knew it had something to do with the man who shifted uncomfortably at Fëanor's words.

"Ah, we are only going to take a quick look, it doesn't take all of us to do that. We'll come back and tell the others what we've found. Lead the way," Celegorm put his hand on Bard's shoulder and neglected to remove it as the man nodded and strode away from the house.

With a wink and a small shrug, Bofur started after them, welcoming Fili and Kili on either side of him and struggling to keep up with the Elf's and the man's long strides. Behind them, Thorin and Fëanor followed in companionable silence and again, Fili wondered how his uncle could affect such ease. But that mystery would remain unsolved as they walked along Lake Town's narrow streets and headed toward the great bridge. It was the time of the mid-say meal and most of the town's inhabitants had retreated to their homes, but the guards stood at attention at both gates, saluting their captain and bowing deeply before both Dwarves and Elves.

They had been honored guests in Esgaroth for days and had not left the floating city at all, but Fili knew that he was not the only one who began to chafe at the constant fawning and the multitude of people swarming around them. Used to the freedom and the peace of open spaces, not to mention a limited number of companions, Fili longed to be free of the crammed buildings and the complete lack of privacy, but he did not even know how much he had missed having firm ground beneath his feet until he stepped off the bridge and strode away from the gravelly lake shore.

He had observed that Esgaroth was not merely a lake town. The people did indeed trade and live in the conglomerate of buildings so skilfully upheld above the lake's surface, but the town did not thrive merely on trade. South of the bridge and tucked between fields of corn ripening for the upcoming harvest, there seemed to be another settlement, the size and shape of a small village. From the quays, Fili had been able to make out the shingled and thatched roofs of several buildings, from tall, wide barns, to sheds and stables and storage rooms and he guessed that while the lake offered its inhabitants protection, their sustenance came from work in the fields. Fili had come across only only a handful of workshops inside Lake Town, tailors and shoemakers and jewelers doing their business on the inner quays, but beyond that, there hadn't been any sign of heavier industry. It made sense, of course, as the wooden pillars -no matter how skilfully crafted - could only support so much weight and there could be no forges in a place where fire was undoubtedly the greatest danger.

Behind Fili, Fëanor was speaking precisely about that and the young Dwarf fell in step with his uncle, meaning to pay more attention to their conversation.

"I have asked Bard to accompany me before the Master of Esgaroth and with his leave, my sons and I will lodge here," the Elf was saying, gesturing toward the rooftops that peeked over the tall corn. "There is no room to breathe in that town," Fëanor lowered his voice and eyed Thorin almost compassionately, when the Dwarf grunted in agreement. "But that is not why I will decline if the same hospitality is extended to me as well. I'd rather stay in the village because there is work to be done here. I haven't seen it yet, but I presume this is where they keep their forges and their armories and the carpenter shops. We need to reforge our weapons and replenish our gear, but beyond that, I would earn my keep while we stay here."

"You... you would work for these people?" Thorin glanced up sharply and something in his eyes gave the Elf pause.

"Why not?" Fëanor frowned. "We may be here for weeks. It is too early to set out for the mountain and we cannot do so before we've all had a rest. Believe it or not, even I need a moment to draw breath, but it is not my habit to sit idly. I would that they give me and Curufinwë room to work in one of their forges and perhaps you could join me as well?" the Elf's expression softened. "We may repay these people for their hospitality as we have in Imladris, although I don't believe they would welcome a dragon rendering quite so much."

"No, they would not," Thorin replied severely, his brows drawing together above suddenly clouded eyes. He and Fëanor had stopped in the middle of the dusty road that plunged into the corn-fields and turned to face each other.

Hair standing on the back of his neck all of a sudden, Fili walked back to them and studied them intently. Tension sprang between the two and perhaps Thorin had made up his mind to speak, seeing how they were out of the city, away from all the prying eyes and ears.

"If you are implying that I would rather sit idly and accept being treated like a King when I am, in fact, little but fresh amusement for these people, you are mistaken," Thorin bristled at the Elf and Fëanor's lips twitched into a brief smile.

"That is not what I said," the Elf replied softly. "But then, you should not be so surprised that my sons and I would work here instead of seeking a King's welcome ourselves. Yet you are surprised. I wonder..."

Fili saw understanding dawn in the Elf's eyes and, to his satisfaction, there was also anxiousness there. Perhaps Fëanor knew that his game was up as well and he'd merely avoided a confrontation on the matter.

"I wonder about a lot of things, Curufinwë," Thorin held the Elf's gaze, saying more with his eyes than with words.

"Of course you do," Fëanor sighed. "You have been in Thranduil's halls, after all. You have spoken to him."

"I have spared that bastard only insult and had no ears for the filth he spewed. But I would speak with you," Thorin finished pointedly, bearing down on the Elf even if it was Fëanor who towered over him. "I must speak with you. Privately," he insisted and Fili barely bit back a cry of relief.

"Yes, you must," Fëanor replied absently and although he still faced Thorin, his gaze had turned inward.

"Father, is something amiss?" Celegorm sped back and touched his father's shoulder gently.

"No," Fëanor started and turned to his son but his expression said otherwise and even Fili saw the silent plea in the look that the two exchanged.

"Good. Because... I must ask you to do something for me," the blond said, his grip on Fëanor's shoulder tightening.

"Now?" Fëanor blinked. "What is it?"

"Now would be better than later. It's... the Mirkwood prince, atar. Bard says that he has kept only two of his father's people with him and would not take lodgings in the city either. Rather, they are housed in a small house at the edge of these fields. Surely, they have espied your arrival and they are waiting for me. For us. Now... we have not had time to speak of it, but you can imagine how I have secured the prince's friendship and his cooperation in setting us free," Celegorm ducked his head and cast a guilty glance toward Bard.

Fili had not heard the man approach, but Bard had most certainly followed Celegorm's words to his father and his jaw tightened, lips pressed into a thin line.

"Under the circumstances, I could think of nothing better to do," Celegorm added, drawing a strange smile from his father. "But things are... far more complicated now and I believe it's best to seek Legolas before he comes to us. I know he wishes to meet you and perhaps...," the blond trailed off.

"Let us find the prince, then," Fëanor straightened and nodded.

Again, it seemed to Fili that silent speech passed between the two Elves and he would have heard that, instead of hints and riddles.

"I did promise Thranduil that I would send his son back," Fëanor added. "To be completely honest with you, that may have been the only common ground between us and the most important reason why he did not order his archers to put arrows in our backs. Thranduil was just as desperate to retrieve his son as I was to have you back. So, I will speak with Legolas. You do not have to come with me if you do not wish to," he said, covering Celegorm's hand with his own.

"It's not something I can avoid, atar. This mess is my doing, although I will not turn down any help to get out of it," Celegorm smiled sheepishly. He risked only the briefest of glances toward Bard and as he observed them, Fili saw how ill-pleased the man was with what he had heard.

"Come on then, the sooner we deal with this, the better," Fëanor drew his son away but he halted in mid-step when Thorin grabbed his wrist and pulled him back.

"I would still speak with you," Thorin reminded him, the look on his face brooking no denial. "I will return to the others when our business here is done and I will wait for you. It does not matter if the hour grows late, I will wait and you had better come."

Still and silent for an awkward moment, Fëanor nodded. Thorin released his hand and Fëanor raised it as if to touch him. But he withdrew and held back whatever it was that bubbled on his lips, making Fili shake his head and mutter 'Cowards!' within the confines of his head.

They were cowards, both of them... the mighty Elf Lords of legend. One hid behind his father in the attempt to rid himself of a conquest he no longer wanted and the other hid behind his son when his lies caught up with him at last. Fili watched the pair walk away briskly and threw their retreating backs an unimpressed look. Thorin bore a similar expression of annoyance and disdain, while Kili studied them both with mounting frustration. A little way off, Bofur happily pretended that he had neither head nor understood anything, but Fili had come to know the Dwarf well enough to see that Bofur was one of the most perceptive people he had ever come across.

Momentarily forgotten by everyone, Bard cleared his throat and shifted awkwardly, trying to school his face into an impassive expression and failing.

"Well, if you would follow me...?" he said, brows drawing together when Celegorm and Fëanor disappeared from view.

"We will," Kili turned to him. "Best not concern yourself too much with those Elves, they're always like that. High and mighty, speaking in riddles, always wrapped up in some drama or other," he said and Fili fought to smother the laughter bubbling inside him.

"I think all Elves are like that," Bard smiled ruefully.

"Beg your pardon, lad, I don't mean to pry, but could you tell us how you met our Elves?" Bofur fell in step with Bard when the man reached him.

Fili and Thorin exchanged a brief look and Fili understood that his uncle wanted no more 'riddles and drama' for the time being and that he was curious about the man's tale as well, if Bard would share it.

"I've met them all this morning. You saw it yourselves. The odd looks and the sniffing," Bard laughed self-consciously. "Although I was expecting worse, to be honest."

"They are a strange lot, I'll give you that," Bofur mused with a good-natured smile.

"Yes, Tyelkormo has warned me that his kinsmen would be wary of me and extremely protective of him. I can certainly understand that. How I came to know your Elven friend, Master Dwarf, is a fairly long story," the man smiled at Bofur. "But I'll not bore you with the details and it won't take long before we reach the workshops. I've known Tyelkormo for ten years now."

"Well, he did mention being here before, but in the same manner, in hints and riddles. We never would have guessed he's left such a close friend behind."

"It's not something he would speak of openly or take much pride in, I believe. But you are his friends and have been with him long enough to care for him, is that not so?" Bard eyes searched Fili and the young Dwarf found himself nodding before he could remember his anger. "I ask you this because I would not speak of private matters and betray Tyelkormo's confidence."

"Speak freely," Thorin said. "Those Elves are our friends indeed and we've been through enough by now to earn the rights to at least some of each other's secrets. It is plain to see that you and Tyelkormo are very attached to each other and if you mean to join us in our quest, we should know a bit more. If only to save you and ourselves from potential embarrassment."

Bard lowered his eyes and if his face were not so tanned, the dusting of red on his cheeks would have shown better.

"We are... very attached to one another, Tyelkormo and I. And unable to conceal it, it seems. It was the same a decade ago, when he first set foot inside our city. He came with a pair of pack animals loaded with Dorwinion and claimed that he had traveled across Rhovanion on his own, drinking half the cargo as he went. He had been directed to Esgaroth where he thought he could take shelter as winter was closing in and replenish his supplies. He would not stay in the city either, although the Master gave him a warm welcome. Rather, he chose to take abode in one of the small farm houses out in the fields and promised the family it belonged to that he would tend to their wares and their animals until spring. The first time I saw Tyelkormo, he was shooting in our archery field. All of us - experienced soldiers and young guards still in training alike - simply stood there and stared as the Elf emptied his quiver into the targets. He had a strip of cloth tied over his eyes and when he finished shooting, he greeted us, saying how many we counted and even that one of us had the beginning of a cold. We had never seen anything like that before," Bard smiled fondly, drawn back into the memory.

"Aye, that sounds like the Elf we know," Bofur said.

"Perhaps. But to me, he was unlike any Elf I'd ever met. There has always been trade between the Woodland realm and Esgaroth. The Elves often come all the way to our city and partake in our feasts, although the King himself has not been this far south since before I was born. But we do know Elves and they are friendly enough. Fair and graceful and skilled archers, all of them. But Tyelkormo was nothing like the Woodland Elves. He appeared to me like the sun while Thranduil's Elves were stars and they all paled against the radiance of this one mysterious Elf. He would not speak of where he had come from, save to mention a family waiting for him and he would not meet with the Woodland Elves even though they sought him out on more than one occasion. I hid him myself and did not understand why until much later. I believed that he simply did not wish to be disturbed and truthfully, I did not wish for anyone to disturb him either. You have seen it yourselves and so, I will not deny it. I loved Tyelkormo since the first time our eyes met and something stirred in him as well, for he took me under his wing almost right away. He offered to train me and you can all imagine my fellow guards growing green with envy at that. Tyelkormo even gave me his longbow," Bard paused and reached out for the bow, startled to find that he did not carry it on his back. He still wore the fancy attire he had donned earlier and Fili guessed that the man felt unclothed without the weapons he was accustomed to bearing.

Fili could certainly sympathize as he longed for his swords and his knives. With some luck, he would retrieve them before long.

"To make a long story short, I cleaved to that remarkable Elf and would not be parted from him for anything in the world. He seemed like a god to me, descended among mortals and willing to love them... to love me. Throughout the winter and into spring, we were together and that was the happiest time of my life. I walked and lived in a dream... but as it always happens with dreams, one day, I woke to find myself alone."

There were shadows under the man's eyes and the grief of what he recounted seemed to haunt him still.

"Tyelkormo left without warning. He was here one day and gone the next, without a single word of parting. I searched for him and in my despair, I could not understand how or why he had been making arrangements to leave weeks in advance. I thought myself loved, unbelievable and as unlikely as it might have been. But Tyelkormo bought his precious Dorwinion, sent a caravan ahead in secret and vanished after it, making sure that I would now know and I could not follow until he was out of reach. Even so, I would have gone after him if my father had not fallen ill and my mother did not need me by her side. She took care of two ailing men that year and one of them passed away the following winter. I remained to grieve for all I had lost, but the final blow came when I traveled to Thranduil's halls and begged the king himself to tell me if he knew where I might find a golden-haired Elf called Tyelkormo. Thranduil told me that there was no such Elf, that I had been given a false name and lied to and you can all imagine how embittered I became after that."

"I'm... sorry for you, lad," Bofur offered after a long moment of uncomfortable silence. "But... what happened? Tyelkormo does exist, we've all seen him among his kinsmen and his people. It is not a false name and so... Thranduil must have lied to you."

"You are right, of course. The Elf I loved is very real and although it was terribly unfair to me, he did have a very good reason to leave as well. Tyelkormo left for fear of love and death. I was not cheated into believing that he cared for me as well. But for one of his kind to love a mortal can be and has been death. And Tyelkormo has cause to fear that more than anyone else as I understand he has seen first hand what love for a mortal will do to an Elf. So, he fled to the protection of his family and that would have been the end of it. But of course, we cannot command fate or our hearts and so, here we are today," Bard shrugged, a small, sad smile tugging his lips.

"But... you've forgiven him, just like that?" Kili blinked. "And... is he going to die now?"

"No... and no. Loving me will not kill Tyelkormo," Bard laughed softly and grimaced as he did so. "But he might fade after I die. And may not be reborn again. He does not know if he can share the fate of Mortals and follow me wherever it is that our spirits go when we die, but that is not a chance I am willing to take. I have forgiven him, Master Dwarf," Bard said to Kili. "But only after he swore to me upon his father's name and the name of Eru the Alfather that he will live and he will be happy after I am gone. I would not have it any other way."

Silence descended upon them again and Fili tried to grasp what he had just heard. It cast a new and terrible light on the Elf Fili had called his friend. If Tyelkormo was indeed the Celegorm of legend and myth, then oh, the irony...! But also the grief and the power of an oath sworn by one of that House... Mind reeling, he turned to the man and mustered a sympathetic smile for his sake.

"Tyelkormo's brothers are probably debating whether to kill me now and be done with it or not, but it will not save him from grief, merely bring it about faster. Tyelkormo's father, at least, seems to understand that and I hope he does not hate me," Bard sighed and turned to Thorin. "So, my Lord, this is the unforeseen and unwanted complication I bring into your company if you will have me. Although I promise that not another word on this will ever leave my lips and these private matters will be kept private henceforth."

Thorin said nothing, merely pressed a hand over his mouth and stared ahead thoughtfully.

"Forgive me, I have said too much and I should not have subjected you to such an odd confession. But I must ask you to keep these things to yourselves, for Tyelkormo's sake. I know he would be angry and insulted if you were to look upon us with pity and bemoan what surely seems like a tragic fate."

"I wouldn't even dream it," Bofur said. "No worries, none of us shall speak a word about this. And you should know, I wield a mean mattock," Bofur leaned closer to Bard and gave him a cheeky smile. "In case you found it and you're about to return it to me, I'll defend you from those murderous brothers."

Ah, dear old Bofur, always going for humor, although there was always such a gleefully sadistic ring to it, Fili thought. But the uncomfortable atmosphere lifted and it was just as well, because the road had broken free of the corn fields and delivered them into the heart of a noisy square, filled with the clangor of people and farm animals and the cacophony of smiths applying themselves to their tasks.