Seren yawned as a simple plum colored dress was pulled over her head. Her eyelids felt heavy and her speech slurred as Ceridwen pushed her down on the bed.

"I have to… my room…"

"There are spores everywhere in your chambers. You can sleep here," the healer replied, tucking a blanket over the human. "And you need to rest."

"Why'm I… so tired…?"

"You inhaled much of the Lothrim. Now that the poultice I gave you is wearing off, the Lothrim in your blood is making you drowsy."

"The note!" Seren said, half rising again. She was pushed back down easily.

"It will be found," Ceridwen said soothingly and brushed hair from her patient's forehead. "Rest now, Seren."

The healer watched Seren as she finally drifted into slumber, worry making her frown. The thought of someone wishing Seren ill made her sick. She would keep the human under her supervision with the guise of needing to be looked after. Until the king discovered who was responsible, she wasn't letting her patient out of her sight.

Her assistant returned bearing the wine she'd requested and placed it by Seren's bed. Thranduil and Legolas stood in the doorway and Ceridwen gestured for them to enter.

"She sleeps," she told them. "There is still Lothrim in her blood and it'll take many hours to wear off."

Legolas stared down at the woman on the bed, mouth a flat line. "I need you to make more of those masks. We need to look over Seren's room."

"Of course."

Thranduil watched them and looked at Seren who was breathing evenly again. He spotted the wine and nodded approvingly at the healer.

Legolas spun on his heel and stalked across the room but was stopped at the door when his father spoke. "Find the note she mentioned."

"I will."

And then he was gone.

The elvenking turned back to Ceridwen. "As soon as she wakes –"

"I will inform you immediately, my lord."

There was nothing more that could be done for Seren and there was no reason to stay so he stepped back, casting a last glance at her before turning and following Legolas out.

His thoughts turned in circles as he walked. He considered again the dangers of what he thought Seren might be but he was quite certain no one could know of that outside of himself, Legolas and Seren. He wondered if she had offended someone. It was possible. He smirked, unbeknownst to himself, as the thought crossed his mind. However, he doubted anyone in his kingdom would wish her dead or would be foolish enough to try killing her if they did. She was considered one of his subjects like everyone else here and therefore under his protection as well as rule. Doing her harm was as treasonous as it would be to harm another elf which was also common knowledge.

The one oddity that stood out was the appearance of a small band of would-be human thieves. Three had been found hiding in barrels – the reverse of a trick they claimed to have learned from tales of a certain Hobbit's exploits. It was trick Thranduil had been keen to prevent from happening again and thus the stowaways had been discovered by the improvements they had made in monitoring their goods' traffic. The fourth had been caught snooping around the cellars, his filthy pockets stuffed with cheese and fruit. The king had had the food discarded but he considered it now. He wondered if it had come from the stocks on the barge or one of the kitchens. The incoming shipments would have been sealed in crates and difficult to open without tools.

The king hastened his steps and called for his personal guard when he entered the main chamber. Soon he stood among all but four of them on his dais. Legolas had already informed them of what occurred and commanded the assistance of four, taking Nuinethir among them. To those who remained, Thranduil instructed them to make queries at every kitchen about their stores. When they dispersed, he remained there, feeling oddly restless. There was nothing more he could do to pursue his inference so he turned his attention to other matters of his kingdom's needs, beginning the parade of afternoon meetings with the treasury keeper and the captains of his guard.

Legolas looked around Seren's chambers, his nose tingling from the herbs on the mask he wore. Grey powder coated everything near the foyer steps. Upon entry, one would be nearly encircled by Lothrim. A little table at the foot of the bed had a small vase of the purple flowers and they were utterly spent, sagging and wrinkled. In a corner at the head of the bed, a vase stood and the flowers hadn't yet expelled their spores. The same was true of vases standing in the far corner by the little round lunar salon and many others looked as though they might still have a little more left to expel.

He caressed the gold leaf etching on a nearby vase. "These are ours. How did someone move so many without being seen?"

He asked no one in particular but Nuinethir still answered. "This section is less inhabited, my lord. During the day, these halls are all but deserted."

Legolas didn't respond to that but he looked down at the dust covered table and saw the note Seren spoke of. It was torn in two. When held together, the pieces conveyed a jovial greeting to Seren and extended an invitation to her.

Legolas scoffed as he read it. "'As first advisor to the Master, I Lagdar of Esgaroth would be delighted to make your acquaintance, fair Seren of the Mirkwood kingdom of elves and offer you welcome and respite among your own kind in Esgaroth for the winter harvest ball...' No wonder she tore it up."

Nuinethir chuckled. He knew Seren well enough to be confident she would prefer to stay away from someone who sounded as smarmy as Lagdar.

Legolas scowled. "It makes no sense. Lagdar is the Master's foremost advisor – he would know better than to attempt harm on a citizen of my father's kingdom."

Eleros spoke from the center of the room where he had piled the Lothrim he had bagged and bundled. "If he tried any harder, he'd fall over himself. I doubt he has the Master's approval and he thinks it charming to surprise her with flowers."

"Lothrim flowers?" Legolas returned. "He is either false or a fool."

Nuinethir added another, more troubling thought. "Lagdar hasn't been here since he came to renegotiate terms of trade with the king a fortnight ago. Someone must have done this for him."

Legolas went still and his mouth set in a grim line. "It's quite a coincidence that thieves appeared just before the Lothrim was discovered, do you not think?"

Nuinethir's brow furrowed. "They should not be left to languish in our dungeons without a visitor or two."

Legolas's grin was half snarl, half smirk. "It would be a shame to allow that."

Before they could confront the captives in the cellar, they had to finish gathering the Lothrim and spray everything with an herbal mix that would render the spores inert so they could be cleansed away.

"Not so invalid, I see."

Thranduil stood before a cell just out of reach of the nearby torch's flame, watching the human within. The man startled and rose from the task of trying to free a metal wire from the underside of his bed. The cot was wall mounted and the mattress was on the floor. One of the legs that supported the outer edge had been pried off and the man was trying to force the suspension of his bed free from its bolts on the frame with it. For someone supposedly with a lame leg and bad back, he had done remarkably well.

"I didn't hear you, king Thranduil," he said nervously and tried to resume his hunched posture.

The elvenking seemed to materialize from the shadows without his golden robe, dressed in black silk brocade and his crown graced with a crescent of bare nearly black brambles. His gaze glinted in the light as it pierced the darkness, sharp and focused on the human. "That was the point," he said smoothly. "Do not bother with your ruse."

"Where are the others?" The man suddenly demanded, straightening and coming to the bars. "My sister–"

Legolas, Eleros and Nuinethir had each chosen a prisoner to speak with once they had all shared what they knew and concluded the humans had to be involved in what happened to Seren. "They are being questioned, like you."

"Please don't hurt her!"

Thranduil arched a brow, thinking it curious that was the first thing the man would assume. "You and your sister nearly killed one of my citizens."

The man shook his head. "We just delivered flowers. We didn't do anything –"

"Lothrim carries spores that induce sleep. Too much of it can cause death. The quantity you and your ilk delivered was dangerously excessive."

The man blanched. "But it was cold last night! It snowed! Lothrim doesn't eject spores if it has been exposed to temperatures like that! Please, if you believe nothing else I say, believe that we meant no harm to come to your human."

Thranduil had to pause as he considered this. It was true that Lothrim wasn't known for tolerating the sting of winter. Still, the Lothrim in Seren's room did eject their spores and she had been adversely affected. At the very least these vagrants had trespassed. At worst, they had attempted to murder a denizen of the woodland realm. "What was your intent?"

"Just to deliver flowers; Lagdar said he'd pay us a week's worth of wages if we'd take flowers to Seren." When Thranduil scowled, he hastily added, "He fancies her."

The elvenking pressed his lips into a line at the absurdity of Lagdar thinking he could court Seren. Practically speaking, he didn't want to have to deal with the political foothold a match between his kingdom and Esgaroth would allow for the city of men. It was also ridiculous. Lagdar and Seren had met only once before, during the last trade negotiations weeks ago. She had hardly slowed to offer the slightest greeting when she delivered Nuineri's requisitions. She had left as quickly as she had entered, leaving Lagdar stuttering a hasty farewell. How the Master's advisor thought the flowers would be welcome was beyond Thranduil's reckoning.

"It seems I have overestimated Lagdar's intelligence," the king said. "Lothrim is hardly an appropriate flower."

The man hung his head. "We picked it from the woods… he gave us enough coin for the flowers and a meal besides."

"That does not improve my estimation of him," Thranduil replied dryly.

The human continued. "He said the flowers just had to be purple. He said she likes purple. We thought, since she wasn't from around here and wouldn't know what Lothrim was and it wouldn't be dangerous anymore –"

"You kept the money and delivered flowers no better than weeds. How charming…"

The man appeared on the verge of begging and the elvenking took a step back when he pressed himself against the bars.

"Please… I just wanted to earn my keep. I was speaking the truth when I said the Master has neglected his people. He hoards our gold and now our trades are tallied on slips. The pay seems to be shrinking but we have no physical gold as proof of what we've earned. The prices of all goods have increased. The Master just tells us that an ounce doesn't buy as much as it used to. The taxes are outrageous – he's driving us into destitution!"

"Hm," Thranduil said. "How did Lagdar come to the conclusion of where Seren is from?"

"He doesn't know where she's from… but she speaks differently and he heard tell that she was from some other land – west of here probably."

"Indeed," Thranduil said quietly, a hard edge to his voice. "This is a very amusing tale but it could just as easily be a lie, meant to save your neck."

The man blinked and his face paled. "What reason could we have for wanting to harm the one human in your kingdom?"

Thranduil tilted his head thoughtfully. "You tell me."

"But we don't! It wasn't our intention for her to come to harm!"

The king offered no response, his features a bland mask and turned away.

"You have to believe me!" The man called after him as he took the steps out of the dungeon.

Seren groaned as consciousness seesawed back to her and she felt cool hands on her forehead. The dim light coming from the windows was a pleasant relief, though her eyes still smarted a little when she cracked them open. A hand scooped under her head and supported it while a cup was pressed to her lips and she drank greedily of the cool liquid.

"There's a good lass," Ceridwen said.

After a few swallows, she registered what she was drinking and forced her crusty eyes to open further. "Wine?"

Ceridwen nodded and brought the cup forward again. "It counteracts the Lothrim when it reaches this stage." She tilted the cup and Seren had to swallow more or wear it.

The spirit was strong but also sweet and smooth. Warmth bloomed in her belly and soon after, she began to feel pleasantly foggy in the head. "I've heard the wine here is potent. I see that wasn't an exaggeration."

She managed to sit up and the healer refilled the glass, pressing it into Seren's hands.

"Drink."

"I think I've had enough."

Ceridwen 'tsked' at her. "Lothrim causes severe visual delusions, sickness and pain in the skin; the wine can neutralize it now but only if you drink. You inhaled a great deal of those spores so you will need to drink."

Seren huffed and sipped a bit more from her glass and rubbed at her eyes. They stung and the more she ground the crust off, the worse it became.

"Ahem…" Ceridwen stood next to her, holding out a wet cloth.

Seren took it, wiping it over her lids and sighed in relief as her eyes began to calm down. "What's the hour?"

"It is almost supper time. The sun will be gone very soon." Ceridwen busied herself with a small piece of parchment and Seren watched her curiously.

"I've been out of it since this morning? What are you writing?"

Ceridwen stood. "A note about your current status," she replied as she rolled it up. She sealed it with a dab of wax and handed the little scroll to her assistant. "Take this to the king at once."

The other elf bowed and left the room and Seren watched her go, sipping her wine. Her head felt like it wanted to pound but the more she drank, the further off the pain seemed. When her glass was empty, Ceridwen filled it again.

"I've heard talk," the healer said suddenly.

Seren's attention was instantly piqued, grateful for a distraction. "Oh?"

"The humans the king threw into the dungeons have admitted they placed the Lothrim in your chambers. They claim the flowers were a gesture of courtship and they were hired to deliver them."

Seren fidgeted. "Courtship? How could anyone think that was appropriate? I've no interest in courting anyone."

"Do you remember Lagdar?"

"Who?" Seren's mind went to work. It sounded familiar. "I can't recall a face."

"He's the Master of Esgaroth's foremost advisor."

Seren shook her head, regretting it as the room spun a little from the wine in her system.

Ceridwen tried again to jog the human's memory. "You met him a couple of weeks ago during the trade negotiations."

Seren's eyes suddenly went round with recollection and she shuddered. "Him? Even if I was open to being courted, he would not be a suitor I'd entertain."

Now Ceridwen laughed and she nodded. "That is understandable."

Seren sighed and closed her eyes against the swimming in her head. "Now I have to let him know his overtures aren't acceptable –"

"Without affecting the trade relationship we have with the Master," the healer interjected.

A mirthless chuckle escaped Seren. "Of course; nothing that should be simple ever is."

Ceridwen smiled sympathetically and topped off the glass in her patient's hand.

Seren stared at it. "How many have I had?"

"Not enough."

"You don't want to deal with the Lothrim, trust me," Varis said from the doorway. She smiled at the other two and strode into the room, carrying a parcel under her arm.

Seren studied the dimensions of it, her eyes going round. "You brought the project here?"

Varis shook her head, her grin widening. Her features reddened all the way to the ears that peeked through her hair auburn. "I know you probably do not have the steadiest hand right now. I would hate for you to ruin the prince's gift and you'd nag me for letting you."

Ceridwen laughed, Varis along with her and when Seren scowled at them, they laughed harder. A moment later, her own laughter betrayed her.

"Then what is this?" Seren asked with a wave toward the large rectangular package.

"A gift for you." Varis set her burden on the foot of the bed and Seren sat up a little higher, staring in wonder.

"For me? But… it is not my birthday – or Day of Beginning."

"We know," Ceridwen said and took the wine from Seren's hands. "Though don't think you won't receive gifts that day either."

"You're complicit in this?" She stared at the healer.

"So are Nuineri and Caireann."

"And you can thank Menui," Varis added. "She saw you drawing trees on the slate board in the library. When she brought it up at supper one night, Caireann mentioned that you were a painter and had seen you drawing on the journey from Gundabad."

Seren felt her face grow hot and she stretched out shaking hands to the parcel, her voice quivering. "You didn't…"

"Well, open it!" Ceridwen said.

"Not so fast!" A voice called from just beyond the open door.

A moment later, Nuineri, Caireann and Menui appeared. Nuineri held a tray piled high with roasted meat and potatoes, fresh vegetables, fruit and sweet rolls. Menui ran over to Seren and immediately wrapped herself around the human.

"I am happy you're okay, Seren."

"So am I, kiddo," Seren replied as she patted the child's back.

Nuineri followed suit and when it was Caireann's turn, she place her hands on Seren's shoulders and bowed her head.

"Now you can open it," the warrior said when she stepped back.

"I can't believe you did this," she said and looked around at her friends, "all of you." Her eyes stung a little and her smile wobbled slightly.

"Think of it as a late welcome present," Ceridwen said.

"A belated, 'thanks for saving the prince's hide' gift," Nuineri added.

"A show of appreciation for bringing Haavelas home," Caireann put in softly.

Seren sobered a little and reached for her hand, giving it squeeze.

"And my Niphredil has its first flower bud!" Menui exclaimed.

Everyone around her laughed and Seren felt truly happy. For a moment, it surprised her. Then she remembered her brother, wishing for his presence. He should be here too…

"Promise me, Seren… Take every chance to laugh, to love, to live…"

She shook the melancholy away and grinned. When she tore at the paper, she revealed a large polished cherry brown wooden and rectangle box. It was constructed with brushed steel hinges and clasps and they clicked open with a quiet 'snick' when she released their catches. She took a deep breath before lifting the lid.

She sucked in a great whistle of air when she saw the contents inside. Numerous cakes and glass vials of pigments stood before her. The vials were oval in shape and arranged in a little rack wooden rack that suspended them by their necks and each was stoppered with an ornate silver leaf adorned knob of glass. The water color cakes were set into recesses in the glossy polished wood and the section was also a tray that lifted free of the box. In the space behind the paints, an array of brushes shone back at her. She gently reached out and lifted the first set, an assortment of finer bristles, to reveal a second set with more coarse hairs. She stared at the satin polished handles and stroked the swirling silver inlay of the set she held before putting it back. A couple of vials bearing clear liquid stood in the right corner, and she guessed these were thinners and oil bases.

The inside of the lid was also occupied and Seren gushed at the sight of a folded easel. It was minimalist in design and folded neatly into the box but its many hinges could lock and it would stand all on its own and canvas clips were on its adjustable arms. A highly polished blonde wooden palate for mixing colors lay under it and under that, a slim wooden tray with a variety of leads that resembled pencils was hidden. A folded square of canvas was discovered to be an apron and still more supplies like stencils, fine metallic dust in four tones and other miscellaneous things were tucked away in the spaces within the box.

Seren tried to take it all in at once and had to hastily wipe away tears when she felt them on her cheeks.

"I… don't know what to say."

Her friends all smiled back at her. "You don't have to," Ceridwen said with a wide grin. "We thought you might like to return to what you do best and make yourself more at home here."

Seren smiled too. "Thank you – all of you."

She hugged them each in turn. Every time she looked at the gleaming box before her, she wondered if she wasn't dreaming.

"There are canvasses as well," Caireann said. "But they can be brought to you when your room is cleared of the Lothrim."

Seren's eyes lit up. She was happy she could paint right away and an idea struck her. "Could you bring me one tonight? It's dreadfully dull when you lot aren't around."

Menui crawled onto the bed opposite Ceridwen and looked at the contents of Seren's kit. "Can I stay and watch you? I wish to learn how to make trees like you!"

Seren hugged her, flinching as the pressure on her skin smarted and guessed it was the Lothrim affecting her. "I'd be happy to teach you, but you must ask your mother."

The child immediately looked at Nuineri who laughed. "Another time Menui, you can learn but tonight you have other tasks to finish."

Menui's expression became somber. "Oh. I forgot we are making sweets for the party."

"Indeed," Nuineri replied and held a hand out for her daughter. "It was your idea and it is a lovely one. We cannot leave them half finished."

Menui hugged Seren once more and Seren hissed at the pain the contact caused, but she returned the embrace.

Menui pulled back, eyes wide and Seren shook her head to reassure her. "I'm fine. Go finish your candy. I expect them to be delicious."

Menui smiled and went to her mother and the pair left with a final farewell. Ceridwen pushed Seren's wine back into her hands and commanded that she drink and handed her a sweet roll. The others helped themselves to a piece of fruit or meat as they all sat around talking for a while. The state of readiness of their gifts for Legolas was a popular topic as the celebration was in a couple of days. Seren lamented the delay in her own project because she was stuck in the infirmary and Varis reassured her it was still being worked on in her absence.

As dusk gave way to night, her company began to drift away until eventually Seren sat on her bed, drinking alone as she painted. Ceridwen was in another room of her infirmary, making poultices so Seren felt confident no one would hear and began to hum. The painting was a rough depiction of a winter landscape and her heart wasn't in it yet. She rinsed her brush and put it back in the kit and closed everything and then lay back on her pillow. The wine made her sleepy as the Lothrim had but her mind was too preoccupied to allow her to drift away. She kept thinking in circles of how she would respond to Lagdar. No sooner than she'd finish her mental letter, she'd begin again but with a variation. She stared at the ceiling and sighed. She started singing low to herself, hoping the exercise would help focus her mind away from spinning its wheels. She lost track of how many songs she had sung but she finally began to feel pleasantly heavy in all her limbs and her eyes drifted half closed.

"You seem much improved," a deep voice announced into the silence when she paused to take a breath.

The sudden words made her flinch, chasing away the drowsy feeling she'd worked to attain. She sat up, ignoring the way the room tilted from the movement. Thranduil stood a few steps from her bed. Though she couldn't be sure, he seemed amused.

"I'm well enough so long as Ceridwen keeps me intoxicated."

The tiniest hint of a smirk toyed about a corner of his mouth. "Then she is to be commended. It seems you have imbibed enough to feel at ease… singing?"

A flush bloomed on Seren's cheeks. Of course it was too much to hope he hadn't heard. There was a reason she had made certain she was alone before beginning. "I suppose you could call it such," she said sheepishly and then added, "in the most technical sense."

Thranduil finally allowed the smirk to grace his features. "Indeed." He stepped closer to the bed, the smirk threatening to grow and his eyes seemed bright with mirth. "Of all your talents, the ability to produce a pleasing melody is not one of them."

Seren cringed and laughed softly. "I know…" She scrubbed her hands over her hot face but stopped when she thought she heard a small deep chuckle come from the king.

The vestiges of a smile lurked there and he suddenly cast his gaze away from her. He spotted the plate of rolls and drifted to them. He reached out but then he looked at her, raising an eyebrow.

"Help yourself. I've had plenty."

He took a roll and returned to the foot of her bed and held out her sketchbook. "I'm told you wanted – no, expected – this returned to you?"

Seren blushed again. She had been irritated enough to let her mouth grow bold when she said that. Apparently that had been conveyed to the king. "Well, it is mine." She reached for it but the volume lowered just out of her reach.

"You forfeited it."

She looked at him, scouring his expression to see if he was serious. "By accident; I would never have wanted to get rid of it."

Thranduil let her take it and tore a piece of the roll and put it into his mouth while Seren opened the book. It easily fell open to a sketch of Legolas laughing and Seren closed the book, allowing it to open on its own and again the same sketch appeared. She studied the spine and saw a telltale crease in it and shook her head. She chose not to mention it, glad that she had it back at all.

"Thank you."

A single nod was her only answer as the king studied the case that held her new paints and brushes. Then he spotted the new painting and stared at it for a moment. It was surprising to see for himself the talent she had with a paint brush. After a few moments, he returned to the true reason for his visit.

"I have learned that the humans we apprehended were responsible for placing the Lothrim in your chambers."

"I know," Seren said. Thranduil went still and she wondered if she shouldn't have mentioned her knowledge.

"I see that information obtained during a discreet investigation isn't immune to the phenomenon of gossip," he said, irritation plain in his voice.

There wasn't anything she could say to that so she waited for him to continue.

"Since I have no need to explain who Lagdar is or what he attempted to do, I must ask what you think of the matter." He drew in a breath and did not immediately release it.

"What I think?" Seren scoffed. "It's foolish. I wanted nothing to do with him before and doubly so now. He almost killed me!"

Thranduil resisted the smug feeling that swelled within at her words. He'd been right in his estimation of what she thought of Lagdar. The disgust on her features was amusing in a strange way. "If it is any consolation, he didn't choose the flower but rather those he hired thought to place Lothrim in the stead of real flowers."

"Then it is the greed of those he hired that almost killed me. I still consider him at fault since he did not ask to attempt this… courtship properly. I would have refused him then and this," she tugged at the cream shift she wore and gestured around the infirmary, "would not have happened."

"I quite agree," Thranduil said and slowly stepped away a few paces before turning. "The transgression of entering our woods and kingdom without leave is grievous on its own."

A feeling that he was driving at something crept up the back of her neck and she eyed him closely. "What kind of response do you meet that with?"

"Usually fines and travel restrictions," the king replied with a dismissive gesture of his hand as he passed. "However… your life was jeopardized and you are a citizen here. Lagdar is aware of this and he identified himself by his administrative title, effectively claiming to act in the capacity of an emissary of Esgaroth." He stopped and turned to her. "That can be used to greater effect."

Understanding dawned on Seren's features and she surprised herself when the thought pleased her more than she expected. "Ceridwen mentioned that refusing Lagdar could be complicated because of the trade with Esgaroth on which the Greenwood relies."

Thranduil cast a sideways gaze toward her as he returned to the foot of her bed, a faint smile appearing. "The Master wants our gold," he said, his words tinged with disdain.

"The fee he demands for the goods they ferry between us and the trading villages they come from has tripled in recent years. He would not jeopardize the arrangement's existence. Lagdar's actions have given us leverage to renegotiate a more favorable agreement. It would carry the most weight if you would respond to Lagdar and make your accusations against him in person."

Seren felt a grin spread over her features of its own accord, mischief sparkling in her green eyes. "I would very much like to tell Lagdar what I think of him, personally."

Thranduil tilted his head, studying her. He was pleased she saw the merit in his suggestion. He didn't need her of course, but the gravity of the insult to her would be lost if she wasn't moved enough to show herself. To himself he could admit that her answer surprised him and maybe even impressed him, if only a little. She didn't avoid conflict, though she tried to maneuver out of physical confrontations. He was pleased to learn she wasn't a coward.

"I thought you might. After the celebration, we will go to Esgaroth."