"Esgaroth," Nuinethir said to Seren. They stood on a hill overlooking the shores of an immense lake, the Long Lake.
She took in the sight of the city built on the water. In the distance, north of the settlement, large bones protruded from the glass-like surface amidst the remnants of the old town. She gazed at them transfixed, trying to imagine a great flying serpent. It was the sort of thing she'd only ever read about in fantasy novels or seen in films. In Middle Earth, however, dragons were no fantasy. She stared at the rounded planes of what could only be Smaug's skull partially submerged in the water.
A faint odor drifted on the breeze and she wrinkled her nose. Nuinethir sniffed the air and grimaced. "What is that?"
Seren breathed deeply to catch the scent again, wishing she hadn't. "I've smelled this before, in the fields…"
She took several steps toward the partially submerged hulk of the dragon's skeleton. "It's coming from that direction." She pointed north and followed the lake's embankment.
"Should we not travel a direction opposite such an awful stench?" The runner called after her.
Seren tossed a look over her shoulder at him. "Don't you find it strange that some unknown fungus just appeared in our lands?"
"I've always thought it was the darkness of Sauron. It is a symptom of the corruption he spreads."
"Does that mean you look for no other answers?"
She grabbed fistfuls of her pale blue-grey dress and lifted it a little before taking off at a run. A brief sprint took her far from the main group. She came to a stop only when the foul air thickened enough to make her feel sick.
Nuinethir sighed and jogged after her. As he drew closer, his expression soured further. "Oh that is truly disgusting!"
They were near enough Smaug's bones to see that strips of dry sinew and patches of tissue, some still bearing skin, clung to them. A slimy reddish-brown film coated the water and stones of the shore.
Approaching footsteps halted any further wandering and they turned to see several of their kin marching up to them. In the distance, the rest of their party had halted. Seren could make out Thranduil's form sitting astride his white horse, facing them. Tiny though he was, she thought she could see his dark frown across the distance. The thought made her laugh a little to herself.
As the newcomers drew near, they slowed and their expressions registered the stench.
"Why would you venture here?" Eleros demanded.
"This is what I smelled in our fields. It's the fungus that has been ruining our crops," Seren declared.
The advisor Thranduil had brought along stepped out from between two warriors. He was a pale yellow haired, tan skinned elf by the name of Tellis. His painfully lean form was dressed in light beige colors and furs to match. "It is a common fungus in stagnant bodies of water that have served as a grave."
He gestured at Smaug's remains. "This lake is the tomb of many recent dead, including that monstrosity. It is to be expected."
Seren chewed on this information for a moment, assessing the dragon's corpse. "There's still some flesh on his bones…"
"Lore teaches that dragons can take many generations to fully decompose," Tellis replied.
"And the scent of this fungus is strongest here."
Tellis didn't seem to understand what she was getting at. "It requires warm, well watered soil to thrive. The water is freezing so the fungus's odor is strongest where it's most abundant here on the shores. It will die as winter progresses and return next year unless Smaug's remains are properly disposed."
Nuinethir exhaled heavily through his nose suddenly. He was tense with anger. "There are no dragons rotting in the river that waters our crops…"
Tellis's gray-brown eyes widened. "The river moves south from our kingdom. If it was deliberately brought to our fields…"
Seren's smile was more like an animal baring its teeth. "You're catching on."
Tellis scowled at her. "We need to inform the king."
She nodded and gestured for him to lead the way. The willowy elf turned on his heel, quick strides taking him back the way he came. The rest who'd followed him were close behind.
Nuinethir cast a long glance at the sinister hulk and turned away. "Even in death, he is still a menace." With that, he began a brisk walk back toward the others, leaving Seren to stare at the skeleton alone.
The skull lay sideways, staring at the shoreline. She gazed into the empty sockets where his eyes had once been. They were as large as a car. Scraps of dark skin clung to the dome of his brow. It was five years after his death and yet he seemed to glare at her. The ribs jutting up out of the water hinted at a body cavity bigger than a large house. The teeth Smaug still had were longer and thicker than her arms.
This thing had been real. Dragons existed here. For that matter, elves existed. Dwarves, wizards and beings called hobbits; walking trees and trolls and some powerful malevolence everyone feared, orcs all of that… was real here in Middle Earth. Her lessons with Varis hadn't prepared her for the most important truth: Knowing them to be real was very different than living with that reality.
Suddenly she felt extremely out of place. Suddenly it felt like she had to be dreaming. On Earth, creatures existed in myths and the only evil was that within the hearts of people – it wasn't a tangible force with a will of its own. There was no magic in her world. Seren went still and an ache filled her chest. There is no magic there… but there is magic here.
For several moments the feeling she was surely about to wake up, and panic that the delusion hadn't yet ended, gripped her. Then she remembered it all anew: the night Legolas fell to the snow before her eyes, her home's violent destruction, running from orcs, her brother's bloody chest, a portal to a world that hummed in her head, a dying seedling, a party and a full moon and new faces – so many faces… Legolas, Haavelas, Caireann, Nuinethir, Ceridwen, Menui, Nuineri, Varis, Eleros… And then he was there: Thranduil…
She saw him. For the first time, in her mind's eye, she saw not just a vague pale form dressed in shimmering fabrics and jewels. She saw the face she knew him to have. Then the image shifted. Half of that face distorted into a ghastly mess of red, shining scars and a pale, milky eye. With the intact blue eye, he stared at her, daring her to look away and challenging her not to, angry and fearing yet hoping and not sure of what or why. Under the chaos she felt a keen pain that was physical and emotional. It permeated everything she was, both unbearable and vague. As she watched Thranduil's face return to the visage she knew, the distortions danced over the image like flames.
The world slammed back into focus and Seren stumbled from one foot to another, dragging in great gulps of air. She stared again at the skull in the water, shaking with fear of meeting that void with her gaze. It was just a giant structure of bone but it felt like it was still alive. Magic… She shivered.
Several more long and heavy moments passed as she found her equilibrium and she glanced toward Nuinethir. He wasn't far, still walking from her as if he just left. Shaking her head, she hurried after him and matched his stride, staring at the ground.
He glanced at her and then looked again, studying her for a little while. "Are you alright, Seren? You seem… disturbed."
"I'm fine," she answered automatically. Her words sounded curt, even to herself. She sighed. "I've never seen a dragon before – even a dead one. It was… unnerving."
The quickstrider nodded. "Not many who do live to speak of it."
"Have you?"
Nuinethir inhaled sharply. "I haven't; not a living one. The dragon wars were before my time. I saw Smaug shortly after his death."
"Varis told me about the attack he brought to the men of Laketown and that a bowman took him down with a single arrow."
"He loosed several before firing the one that put an end to Smaug," Nuinethir said, slightly petulant.
"I just meant that Smaug wasn't overcome by might but by one true shot after everything else had failed." To her own ears, her voice sounded hollow and she felt outside of herself.
"King Thranduil fought them in great numbers. More than half the Sindar of his generation perished," Nuinethir said.
Unbidden, Seren immediately recalled the specter of the king's half ruined face. "Was he wounded?"
"I am sure he likely suffered his share of injuries, but there were healers on hand. To my knowledge, he has no lasting ailments."
Seren looked ahead to Thranduil, sitting in a saddle on a mount that contrasted his dark armor. He seemed utterly unreal to her. They all did. Tellis was walking next to the king, speaking urgently. She and Nuinethir had rejoined their group properly and the whole company resumed their trek to the wooded area just south of the lake.
Her friend continued silently beside her but his gaze drifted in the direction of Caireann. She was positioned near the front of the elvenking's retinue and fully armored in gold.
"I'm fine here; you don't need to stay with me, Nuinethir."
The Quickstrider blinked and looked down, kicking a small rock out of his path. "I did not think I was so obvious."
Seren managed a small smile. "Only just enough for me to see."
A look of alarm crossed the elf's features. "Does Caireann know?"
"I couldn't say. That is something you must ask her."
Nuinethir gazed in Caireann's direction once again and darted a quick glance at Seren before lengthening his strides to catch up with the warrior.
The sudden movement caught Thranduil's attention and he looked back toward Seren, raising a brow in silent query. She nodded toward Caireann.
The king turned his attention forward as the member of his guard laughed nervously in greeting to his kin. Thranduil's eyes widened and he gazed back at Seren, an almost accusatory but good natured look of shock on his face. A giggle, more hysterical than mirthful, burst from her. A few elves glanced warily at her and she restrained any further outbursts.
Now without company, Seren thought back to the discussion she had over breakfast with the elvenking. He desired to renegotiate the trade agreement the wood elves held with the town on the lake. The severity of her accusations against Lagdar would help to pressure the Master into making the concessions Thranduil wanted.
She reminded herself that Lagdar had violated the laws of the Greenwood; trespassing, transporting undocumented and potentially dangerous goods and causing harm to a citizen of the woodland realm. There were consequences. Thranduil had been thorough in explaining the laws. She just hoped she didn't misstep. Diplomacy wasn't her strong suit.
Soon they reached the gate that led out onto the water and their escort divided into a group of twenty-four who would accompany the king and twelve who would set up their camp among the trees. Those staying behind took hold of the mounts as they were abandoned and parted around her so she eventually stood near Thranduil and Nuinethir. Human men in light leather armor greeted them and after a short conversation with Tellis, they were led onto the long wooden catwalk.
Nuinethir walked with her once more and watched her with worry. "Are you alright? You need only to air your grievances, nothing more."
Seren laughed a little and it was strained. "Are you reading my thoughts?"
"That is not one of my gifts. I simply wished to offer reassurance."
"Thank you." She didn't particularly feel ready for this; her earlier melancholy still lingered. "I don't care to deal with anyone like Lagdar and this Master. Yet I put myself in this predicament when I could have simply let the matter go."
"Yes, you could have…" Nuinethir agreed. "So why did you agree?"
"To help the elves of the Greenwood, of course," she said, as if it was obvious. She glanced at the king as she said this and then immediately moved her gaze.
Nuinethir chuckled quietly. He would lay odds that Seren had really only been thinking of helping one elf in particular.
"I'm not used to dealing with matters such as this. The mistakes I could commit…"
"Have more faith in yourself." Nuinethir smiled encouragingly, though he was amused by a thought: Seren easily spoke her mind to anyone, even the king. He was certain the coming meeting would be entertaining. "You have one legitimate, yet very simple reason for seeking an audience here today. You cannot do much harm."
Seren sighed. "Right."
They reached the end of the bridge and were escorted through the town to a large building at the center. It stood higher than the rest. Its front door sat atop a wide staircase. Their group strode up the center, never slowing or pausing. Seren turned her head as inconspicuously as she could manage. There was a town square stretched out before the main hall and little fires burned in intricate iron cages high above them. The city was impressive though it paled in comparison to the elves' sanctuary. Wooden homes stood above wooden streets and water shimmered below the countless railings.
She thought it might be nice to explore but soon they passed through the doors and entered a richly appointed hall. Polished and intricately carved wooden furniture upholstered in rich fabrics were set about the space. Long tables on either side were set near the walls and surrounded with chairs. Seren guessed it was a space of multiple purposes. Fat wooden pillars supported the ceiling and were decorated with carvings and gold. Tall windows made of little panes of glass, some colored at random, allowed the weak morning light into the room. She waited but her eyes refused to adjust to the gloom.
They stopped in the center and Seren maneuvered around a few of the guards to look at the grand chair at the end of the long blue carpet where the Master sat. It was empty.
She had drawn near to Thranduil as she stared and she gestured at the chair. "Where is he?"
The elvenking frowned and exhaled slowly through his nose. "One of the games the Master likes to play; since we are requesting an audience, he will make us wait on him rather than appear to be waiting for us."
Seren frowned. "That's silly."
Thranduil hummed in agreement, clasping his hands together behind him.
They didn't wait long however. The Master could be heard many moments before he entered the room. He and three of his guards stopped when they took in the sight of twenty-four elves and their king. After a moment of worried thought, he pasted a sickly smile on his face.
"King Thranduil!" He gushed and started forward again.
His clothes were gaudy and ridiculously adorned with baubles as well as sweat and food smears. The fabric was the color of a dull yellow gold. In a distant way, Seren realized they were a poor copy of elvish garments. The 'V' hemmed tunic was pulled unevenly over his girth, bunching and tightening with his steps. He wore a garish array of large gems on his fingers. His ratty, patchy beard appeared haphazardly brushed and his greasy hair was flattened to the top of his balding head in streaks. He grinned a rotted smile at them.
"So good to see you!"
He offered a hasty bow and Thranduil looked down at him, barely concealing his disgust. He didn't unclasp his own hands or otherwise move to return the greeting.
"I'm afraid we are beyond pleasantries, your stewardship." Thranduil said coolly. He resisted the urge to smirk when the Master's smile faltered and he nervously wiped a sweaty palm on his tunic.
The man shuffled past them and headed for his chair but stopped when he caught sight of Seren. Her stomach lurched heavily as he visually appraised her.
"So this is the human my advisor told me about. Very pretty indeed… Seems a shame you have her working in the dirt."
Seren, unable to withstand the sickening nerves his scrutiny caused, blurted, "Where is Lagdar?" She managed to keep her tone level but there was an edge to it. She watched the man as he stepped closer to his chair.
The Master looked at Thranduil; mystified the elvenking would let anyone speak to him that way.
"I'm surprised you took an orphaned human of no standing into your kingdom, my lord. Though I can't blame you for wanting… a different kind of treasure to hoard." The Master leered at her openly.
Seren bristled and took a breath to retort but Thranduil's reply came faster. His strong, deep timbre echoed through the entire hall for any to hear. "Seren is kin among the elves of the Greenwood, a citizen of our kingdom, and she has my regard."
It was an intimidating endorsement and the Master licked his lips nervously. He flicked a glance at the sigil clasping her brown velvet cloak closed and redirected his gaze to Seren's. It irritated her that this greasy weasel would have ignored her had Thranduil not spoken but such was the way of matters in Middle Earth. On her own, she was no one of consequence here.
"What is your business with Lagdar, Lady Seren?"
"That is not my salutation," she replied. The irony of having to say such a thing wasn't lost on her, though it didn't amuse her. "My name is Seren Aneira Evans. I'm here to charge your advisor, Lagdar, with an attempt on my life."
The Master blanched. "Is this some sort of joke?"
"It isn't." She clasped her hands behind her and straightened her back, projecting a calm she didn't quite feel. She itched to run from the building and find a bed so that she might awake from this bizarre dream. She thought of Tal's grave and only that kept her from bolting.
"You are aware that trade with Esgaroth has been halted," she continued. "It will not resume until Lagdar answers this charge."
It was a bluff but the man had an air of desperation about him that she could almost smell. Thranduil had been correct when he said the Master didn't want to lose the trade agreement entirely.
The Master was sweating. He tried to smile at her and dismiss the threat but the hard green stare didn't waver and Thranduil stood next to her in silent agreement, gazing through the man with his icy gaze. The Master stilled. He looked toward one of his guards and snapped his pudgy fingers.
"Get Lagdar! Now!"
The guard nearest the door turned away and went out.
"It seems a bit extreme to cancel all trade…" The master tried to sound nonchalant. "We've always held a trade contract with the wood elves."
"Yes, I know. Your fee for the goods you ferry has gone up substantially in recent years. Since it seems there is no end to your greed –"
"Greed?!" The Master made a show of offense. "Our costs have gone up! We have only adjusted our fees accordingly!"
Seren ducked her head slightly in allowance. "My mistake; I apologize. As a result of the increases, the elves expanded crop production so as to be less reliant on trade. Since this change was implemented, contaminated seedlings have made their way to us from your city. When I discovered the tainted shipments, an attempt was made on my life." Seren smiled ferally. "What are we supposed to make of that?"
For several moments the Master thought furiously over her claims as he glanced around at the elves, watching him. Seren hadn't meant to speak this much of the matter. Yet Thranduil hadn't stepped in to take the lead.
The side door opened again and the guard returned with Lagdar following. In her detachment, Seren almost laughed when he usually made her grimace. He was every bit as oily as she recalled.
Though not fat like the Master, he was stocky and doughy looking. Sweaty and grubby; his blue shirt collar was left untied and revealed a ridiculous expanse of soft flesh and chest hair in which a heavy golden pendant was tangled. When he saw her, panic flashed over his features before he schooled the emotion from his expression.
"King Thranduil, Seren…" He stopped next to the master and smiled.
"They are here to have you answer for the attempt on… Seren Aneira's life," the Master said hastily.
Lagdar's expression morphed into one of disbelief. "What?! I never!" He scowled at Seren. "What are you playing at?"
Thranduil gestured and two of his guard brought forth large sacks. They were set on the floor in front of the humans and opened. The Master and Lagdar stumbled back a little when they recognized the Lothrim. The blooms were badly withered and wrinkled but still recognizable.
"Lothrim is deadly when it is inhaled in moderate quantity," Thranduil intoned. "Several vases of this flower were arranged in Seren's chambers. Her life was nearly ended when they ejected their spores en masse. We found and apprehended the humans who claim they delivered them on your behalf."
Lagdar scoffed. "Obviously, this is a ruse. Or you're being played for a fool."
Nuinethir held out a small handful of coins bearing the sigil of Esgaroth currency and the note Lagdar had written. The Master made a funny squeak at the sight of his own gold and read the note.
Seren watched Lagdar dispassionately as the king continued. "This is the payment you made to have the flowers delivered. You identified yourself by your official title, as advisor to the Master of Esgaroth, and claimed an official purpose for the correspondence – without proper petition. The fool here is not I."
The Master turned on his advisor. "You used MY treasure and your position for this?! I never imagined you could be so stupid!" He roared.
Lagdar leaned away and glared at Seren. "I told them to buy something purple! I didn't choose the Lothrim!"
Now apoplectic, the Master shook as he pointed. "You used the seal of my office! You jeopardized the trade agreement! And for what? A pretty face?!"
"It was a gesture of courtship!"
"There are appropriate ways to make such a gesture," Thranduil said, "all of which require that you gain my permission, if only because you would need to traverse my territory. You made no such request. There is also the matter of timing… It seems an extraordinary coincidence this occurred shortly after Seren discovered the tainted shipments. As she said, what are we to make of this?"
The Master huffed at Lagdar who was turning red with rage. Then a thought seemed to derail his raving.
"How can you prove the shipments were our doing?" he asked with a squint. "The fungus could have come from any of the stops your goods have to pass through."
Annoyance began to creep into Seren's mind, for which she was grateful. "The type of fungus that ruined our crops is abundant on the banks of the Long Lake right now, as it feeds on carrion. It doesn't survive long out of its ideal environment. We found it in the soil of the seedlings we received from this city. It can be from nowhere else."
The Master's expression hardened and he reached for Lagdar. The smaller man stepped back and hurriedly yelled at him. "I was just trying to increase our profit! I only wanted to please you!"
"We'll have no profit at all with you cheating the elves and attacking citizens of the woodland realm!"
"That wasn't my intent!" Lagdar tried to beseech Seren, "Please! You must know that I meant you no harm!"
For a moment, pity flickered in her chest but then she recalled that he would have denied any wrongdoing and her resolve stiffened. "Your first words to me today were a lie. I cannot trust what you claim your intentions were, not when your actions speak of a contrary truth."
The Master gestured for the three guards to come forward. Seren had forgotten them but now they approached and bound Lagdar before escorting him from the room.
The sudden quiet was deafening. Thranduil flicked his gaze at Seren before settling it on the Master. The fat, gaudily clothed man laughed nervously.
"I promise you, Lagdar had no sanction from me to commit any of these offenses against your people, Lord Thranduil. I hope you can accept my sincerest apologies."
The elvenking's smile was small and bland and his eyes were cold. "It will be difficult to repair the partnership we enjoyed before this occurred."
"Indeed," the Master quickly agreed.
For the first time, Seren thought the man seemed honest. He was desperate to appease the elves and save his trade agreement.
"As Seren mentioned, some of our crops have failed. We find ourselves in need of goods this winter…" Thranduil paused for a long moment. "However, I do not think we can solely rely on the trade from your city. The cost of goods we cannot be sure are safe…"
The Master began to pant. "Before Lagdar's selfish acts, our goods were sound! You can count on that tradition to be restored immediately! We've traded with your kingdom for so long. Let us not throw such a rich history away!"
The Master addressed Seren directly, this time pandering to her as wholeheartedly as he did to the elvenking. "My lady, please accept my greatest apology. Lagdar was out of line. I will find out if he's simply an idiot or if he meant you harm. He should have pursued proper and appropriate channels if courtship was his intention."
Seren tilted her head thoughtfully. "Had he done so, some of this calamity would have been averted."
"Exactly my thoughts! After all, my reputation with all of my trade connections is at stake! If I were to lose this contract…" The Master shuddered. "Well, let's just say my integrity would not survive the questions it would raise. I propose we sit and work out a new trade agreement – one that can benefit us all."
Thranduil made a brief, thoughtful hum. "I would prefer to find a working solution over discontinuing all trade with Esgaroth..." He turned to Seren. "I must insist you join us."
She blinked. Her part in this was done. Tellis, as the goods and trade advisor, was here to handle the details. What reason was there for her to attend? She almost let the question leave her lips but reminded herself that he was the king and she agreed to obey his commands.
She nodded once. "Of course, my lord."
Thranduil managed to keep his surprise from his features and studied her for a moment. He also called on Nuinethir to join the meeting. The Master had his secondary advisor sent for as well as a service of food and wine.
The rest of the elves took up stations around the Master's hall, guarding every entrance and exit. Seren sighed as they made their way to a different room that was smaller and more comfortably appointed. A long table stood in the center, tall windows revealed the gray sky outside and a fire roared in one corner. She wasn't looking forward to a day of negotiating but she had been commanded to stay. Still the sense of displacement remained with her. She couldn't seem to settle fully into her own skin and wondered if she was losing her mind.
Thranduil watched Seren surreptitiously from the corners of his sight, sure that her demeanor seemed different. She had presented a strong case against Lagdar. Though he found her composure admirable, her usual fire seemed absent and the dull look in her eyes concerned him.
The Master, as predicted, was in a panic about saving trade relations but the nature of the accusations made him even more desperate. Indicating that they were expanding their own crops had only added to this. Making their shortages sound dire gave the man the faint glimmer of hope he needed to believe he had leverage. Thranduil was pleased with the outcome.
Once food and drink had been dispensed, everyone settled down for the long discussion. Nuinethir stood guard at the back wall, not far from Seren's chair, his expression an inscrutable mask. Thranduil seated himself across from Seren, Tellis took the chair to the left of her and the Master sat at the head of the table.
"We can begin now," the Master said and sipped at his wine. "My secondary advisor will be here shortly. I doubt he'll miss much."
Thranduil dipped his head minutely to one side in acquiescence. "Then we will start by declaring the existing contract void."
The Master stood, taking a scroll from a rack of many important documents behind the desk in a corner of the room. He held it up for all to see the seal upon it. It was Elvish in design. The elvenking produced his own scroll, this one bearing a seal from Esgaroth. The scrolls were unrolled and the Master unceremoniously ripped off the signatures from the bottom of his scroll. He looked at Thranduil, waiting for him to follow suit.
The king stood and picked up the now ruined contract and its counterpart. "The agreement is to be renegotiated in its entirety, steward."
The Master sputtered. "I thought we could use it as a reference, to guide us –"
Both scrolls were tossed into the fireplace, reduced to ash in seconds.
"The former contract is not to be reproduced in whole or in part," Thranduil said flatly.
Seren felt a shiver dance through her as she watched the king's features harden. He remained standing, staring down the Master. The tall elf was imposing and she hadn't yet seen this side of him. It was enough to banish the veil around her senses and she once again felt connected to herself. She almost gasped aloud as the room brightened, sensation and sound assailing her.
Oblivious to her, the Master licked his lips nervously and forced a smile. "Of course! It's really not necessary. I promised a new contract and a new contract you shall have."
After a few moments of tense silence, Thranduil nodded. "Good."
The doors suddenly opened and a tall, scruffy human strode into the room. His dark hair hung in waves to his broad shoulders and his angular features broke into a grin when he spotted Thranduil.
"King Thranduil," he said with a quick bow at the waist. "It is good to see you are well."
His voice had a raspy, soothing quality and Seren's mind raced to understand why this man seemed familiar, even as she struggled to understand just what had happened to her.
"Likewise," Thranduil replied, his features losing some of their edge.
He offered a discreet greeting of respect: a short, slow nod of his head with a hand over his chest. Seren marveled that the elvenking seemed genuinely glad to see the human.
"Allow me to introduce, Bard; my secondary advisor."
Seren stood as an epiphany clicked into place. She offered the same salutation Thranduil had given. "You are the bowman, slayer of the dragon Smaug," she said, voice tinged with awe.
"Just Bard will do," the man said matter-of-factly. He bowed his head briefly.
Everyone resumed their seats, though Seren's tongue burned with questions.
"This is Seren Aneira Evans," the elvenking supplied.
Bard looked between them. "Word has spread that you have a human ward in your kingdom. I did not believe it. It's rare the rumors are true."
Seren frowned. "Why would such a thing matter to anyone?"
Bard glanced uncertainly from her to Thranduil. "It hasn't been heard of for the Woodland realm to claim the kinship of any human for over a century. It's almost too absurd to be believed. Yet, here you are. I must admit I'm curious as to how such a thing occurred."
Seren inhaled slowly, schooling her expression. She avoided sight of the Master, who sat with rapt attention on his features. When she looked in Thranduil's direction, her stomach clenched. His hooded gaze was trained intently on her, waiting curiously. They hadn't discussed a detailed background for her and the truth was too farfetched to be believed and she wouldn't risk giving the Master a reason to doubt their earlier exchange. She dug into her mind for information she could use from her lessons with Varis, though she had to focus as the information seemed unusually distant.
"I lost the last of my family in a battle with orcs. King Thranduil was kind enough to offer me a home after my brother fell defending him. I've lived among the elves ever since. Originally, I came from a small village in the peaks of the Blue Mountains."
Bard frowned. "You're quite some distance from home."
Seren nodded. "My brother hoped to improve our fortunes in Rohan. There was an offer of work from every large city posted at the pub back home."
Bard nodded in understanding and sat back in his chair. "The battle at the Lonely Mountain set many kings and lords on edge."
"Indeed," Seren agreed. "In our travels, we wandered into the woods and ran into a group of elves, led by Legolas, who had been tracking orcs."
Bard chuckled. "I can imagine that didn't go well."
Seren smiled, remembering having Thranduil's sword pointed at her when they first met. "They certainly found our presence suspicious. Soon after, the band of orcs appeared and it was in our best interest to help fight them off."
"We were due to rendezvous with my son," Thranduil added suddenly, "and arrived in time to fend off the second wave. I should think you all would have perished had we not diverted from our return journey from Erebor."
Seren bowed her head. "Of course, my lord. Had my brother lived, I know he would have offered his service to you to repay the debt."
Despite the ruse they were playing at, there was much truth in it and she spoke genuinely of Taliesin. If he were stranded here with her, he would have happily offered to serve the king as thanks for saving them. It occurred to her only now that she, Tal and Legolas would have been struck down if they had been alone. Thranduil acknowledged this with a simple nod, though she hoped he truly understood.
Bard was silent for a moment and then offered her a sorrowful expression. "I'm sorry for the loss of your brother."
Seren tilted her head. "Thank you."
Thranduil watched, catching her gaze and smiling faintly with approval. The Master cleared his throat, bringing the conversation back the matter at hand.
"Now that our curiosity has been satisfied – and I can't tell you how rampant and ridiculous the rumors about the human living with the elves have been, thus making this clarification most welcome – shall we begin?"