The night sky hung low and heavy with stars twinkling against the cobalt blue backdrop. Their comfort seemed rather distant to Seren now. A frozen breeze drifted past and Seren shook. Her tunic's hem was wet as were her lower legs. She'd almost given up on getting to the dock when she found an errant barrel to hold her, though it leaked quite a bit. Her hands still ached from paddling in the cold water and she was glad her explorations hadn't ended there. Still, she wished to be dry and warm more than anything at the moment.

Now on the deck of the pier, she peeked over the barrels she was hiding behind, watching for movement she might need to avoid. It was too dark and unnaturally silent. The water slapped noisily against the supports of Esgaroth.

Ahead of her, the trade market loomed; a dark corridor with even darker windows. Her nerves began to buzz under her skin. She gazed around for another presence but saw no one.

She rolled her shoulders and shook off the feeling of being watched and slipped into the shadows of a shop. The corridor ahead was empty and she took off at a run, careful to control her footfalls so they made the least noise possible.

She'd just reached a corner and had her first glimpse of her destination, the town hall building, when a figure rushed at her from the right. Hands clamped around her mouth and ribs as she was pulled into a shop's porch.

Panic flashed in her belly but fizzled when she turned to face Bard. Her eyes went wide and she snapped her mouth closed under his palm.

He let her go and leaned away as much as the small space allowed.

"What are you doing here?" he whispered hoarsely.

Seren raised her chin. "Me?! What about you? You, Nuinethir and Eleros went missing! King Thranduil returned to Esgaroth to find out what happened to you."

"I know," Bard drawled. "Caireann and Laseviir just left to return to your camp."

Seren blinked. "What?"

Bard's gaze intensified as he recounted the night's events. "We were attacked by Easterlings. Nuinethir and Eleros were taken but not before they gave me a chance to escape. Not long ago, two dozen men left town hall to mount another attack in the woods. Caireann hopes to gather the search groups to meet them. I just saw her off in a long boat when I spotted you dodging around the market."

Seren rifled through her thoughts furiously. She didn't know much about Easterlings – only that they were a nation of different tribes of men who served Sauron.

"Why are Easterlings in Esgaroth? Where is the king now?"

"I don't know why they're here," Bard said. "There aren't too many patrolling the city but there's no telling the number inside town hall. That's where they're holding the rest of your people, King Thranduil included. The Master must also be a captive and our city watchmen have all been rendered unconscious."

Seren scanned the street, seeing no sign of the intruders. "We have to do something!"

"I'm open to suggestions," Bard said, shaking his head in frustration.

"We need to get closer. Find out more about what's going on. Is there a way into town hall we can use without being seen?"

Bard nodded. "There's a side entrance, though it may be guarded. If we could slip inside and get a glimpse of their numbers and arms; provided we can rouse our people, we can better mount a defense."

Seren chewed on the idea for a moment. They would need to return to the woods and regroup – provided the attack there was thwarted – but it wouldn't do to lead them into this if their complement wouldn't be enough. They needed to know what was going on in the big building.

"Lead the way," she said and gestured.

Bard looked out into the street again and spotted the patrolling intruder. He waited for him to pass before heading out into the night.

Caireann tied their borrowed boat to a small paddock and wasted no time darting into the woods, Laseviir close behind her. She could see the camp a fair distance away. Soon the sound of battle would shatter the night.

"This way," she told Laseviir.

They wended deeper into the forest and she did a quick mental recounting of the search pattern they were hoping to intercept. Facing the direction she believed correct, she began a series of whistles.

"The Easterlings will hear!" Laseviir hissed at her.

"This is the only way to alert our kin in time so that they might help."

Again she began the same rhythm of high pitched notes and then waited for a reply. They continued to wander through the trees, Caireann whistling at specific intervals.

Laseviir followed behind her, nervously watching the direction of their camp for someone to come. Many minutes crawled by as they walked ever deeper into the forest, broadcasting a call meant to signal to their kin that they were needed to return.

Abruptly, distant sounds of metal clanging against metal resounded to them. Caireann stopped and looked toward the camp, her eyes round with sadness.

"So it begins."

A high pitched note rang through the air south of their position and Caireann's face lit with hope. She returned a different series of whistles and it was repeated back to her. A moment later, another further distant high note echoed and another series followed.

Caireann smiled. "They're coming with all haste! Now we must return to our camp and defend it!"

She didn't wait for a reply from Laseviir. She pivoted toward the camp and sprang into a run, leaving the archer to catch up.

Thranduil lifted his head groggily. It refused to remain steady as his body felt too heavy to bear. Dimly he was aware he was in a cart little better than an iron cage on wheels. They were in the streets of Esgaroth. The wooden roads bellowed hollowly beneath him as his prison rumbled along at an uneven gait.

He tried to push himself up but discovered his hands were tightly bound behind him. He realized he'd been stripped of his armor and sword and his crown was also missing. The indignity of it made anger boil under his breast. Fueled by it, he finally managed to right himself against the bars.

The sight of two swarthy men pulling the cart swam nauseously before him, separating into four and then twisting back to just two again.

The light of the flames from a torch mounted on the cart was blinding to his overly sensitive eyes. He closed them for a moment and breathed deeply.

"Where are you taking me?"

The men stopped and the cart lurched a little. Turning to see him awake, they stared in surprise.

"Tolvaris has different plans for you. We can't have you making things difficult," one of them said, though Thranduil couldn't be sure which through the haze of shadows and light.

He breathed through his nose, calculating how much longer the sedative in his system might last at the current rate it was diminishing.

"The chieftains of Rhun are known for their slave trade. What other purpose could Tolvaris have for me?"

Neither man answered.

"Do you not know? I have a few ideas I could offer," Thranduil said. He projected an air of drowsy, calm conversation.

"Could he intend to use me to trade for the humans I still have in my keep? Probably not; such pitiful ragtag men as they are a pence a dozen. Perhaps he hopes to ransom my freedom for the treasury I have collected? Though I fail to see what good such a vast hoard will do him so far from home. Or is it that Tolvaris foolishly believes my son will surrender to save my life?"

The men slowly turned their heads, casting worried glances between them.

Thranduil smiled, ferally and his blue eyes flashed like steel. "How very ambitious of him, trying to claim the Greenwood... Of course, even without me to command my people, Tolvaris will find it impossible to accomplish such a thing. Unless he believes he has an advantage… one that just happens to lie not far from here…"

"That's enough, you overgrown gnome!"

The cart jerked into motion again and Thranduil said nothing in response to that.

Though he believed his kingdom wouldn't fall, he was concerned that Tolvaris could cost many lives during the attempt. Seren was a smokescreen, of that he was certain. He wasn't entirely sure she was irrelevant to them, however.

Still more worrisome was the presence of a dragon's corpse. After Smaug's demise, he had wanted it destroyed and offered to have his people do so before the wyrm began to decompose and swore they would ask nothing in return. The Master had refused. Now it was imperative that he look upon it closely.

He would wait until an opportunity to escape presented itself. He regained strength by the moment, though he feigned being more sedate than he truly was. Patience was something he had plenty of.

"Did you hear that?" Seren stopped and glanced at Bard.

They were in a narrow alley between buildings, trying to make their way to the street at the edge of the city square when an outburst broke the silence of the night.

Bard's eyes narrowed. "I did."

He pointed toward the direction of the sound and they turned abruptly down a street reaching behind the Master's keep. The tail end of a cart, lit by a torch on the front, disappeared around another corner, continuing away from the large building and into more congested passages lined with homes.

"Who do you suppose they're moving?" Bard asked.

"Eleros, Nuinethir, the king – take your pick." Seren watched the shadows cast by the moving lantern.

"If it is one of my kin, it bodes ill that they have been separated from the rest. We have to get closer to be sure."

She took a step toward the fading light.

Bard held onto her arm.

"They're going in the wrong direction. If we hope to discover what's going on inside and free as many as we can, we can't afford to waste time chasing one elf."

Seren straightened her back. "Then you go on. I cannot just leave someone behind! I have to try."

She tugged her arm free and slipped down the street. Bard flattened his lips into a grim line and hurried after her.

He followed the left turn the cart had made before rounding to the right and getting a look ahead. He stopped next to Seren who was staring somberly at the cart.

"Thranduil…"

The long folded form and strong features were unmistakable despite his appearance. It was jarring to see him like this and yet he himself didn't seem diminished.

Bard sighed in defeat. "There are only two men. He seems sedated however. He won't be able to help us," he added as the elvenking listed sideways.

"Where would they be taking him?"

Seren asked, not budging her eyes from the cart.

Bard considered for a moment. "The large shipping docks are in that direction. Caireann mentioned the East's slave trade… If they have a boat or a barge…"

Seren's jaw clenched. "Then we have to get him out now or he'll be lost."

Bard nodded in agreement. "Two on two odds are good." He looked uncertainly at Seren's profile. "Do you think you can manage?"

She remained silent for a long moment.

"I don't like fighting and the only thing I've ever killed is an orc."

Her voice was a little high and tight. Finally, she looked at him. "But I'll do what I can."

Bard nodded nervously. "Then we had better make our first move count. Come on."

He took a long narrow alley to the left, beckoning Seren after him. The passage turned right and let out onto a street the cart would have to traverse after its most recent turn. It was dark here as the buildings hid the moon from view and darker still in the alley. Silently they waited.

After several long and heavy moments, the sound of wheels rolling over planks echoed in the street and Bard stood.

"Here they come," he whispered.

The passage filled with the glow of the singular torch and they retreated deeper into the shadows. Next to her, Bard shifted into a crouch. Seren drew the dagger Tellis had given her and flattened against the wall.

When the cart rolled past, she darted out behind it to the far side and hurried toward the front of the cage behind one of the men pushing the long handle.

She heard Bard strike the man on the left and before the one in front of her could react; she rushed past him, blade extended and sliced the back of his right knee.

He yelped and the limb buckled. He stumbled backwards into the cage as blood sprayed the planks below and clutched for the ruined leg.

Bard held his target close to him, a hand clamped hard over the man's mouth as he flailed for the wound in his neck. He was trying to staunch the flow of blood but his color was paling with every second.

Rustling from the cart drew Seren's attention in time to see Thranduil rise onto his knees and shove his bound hands through one of the gaps in the bars. He snagged the knots up under her target's chin and pulled him back against the cage, holding him there.

The man scrabbled at the bindings and scratched at the hands pinning him in a mad panic to breathe but Thranduil's hold was immovable.

Disheveled, disarmed and unarmored as he was, the elvenking had never seemed more dangerous. His face was a still mask of cold fury and his long pale locks partially hid his visage in shadows.

The man's attempts to pry the obstruction from his throat began to weaken and his face had become sickeningly red and blotchy.

Seren stepped back to avoid being splattered with blood from his injured leg as he kicked futilely. Keys jangled at his waist and she hastily tugged them free.

Bard approached cautiously, his features pinched and flicked a worried glance at Seren.

Little by little, the life left the man's beady brown eyes. Seren told herself it was necessary, that this man and his ilk were taking her people and would sell them into whatever fate would fetch the highest price. It made it easier to bear witness. Though she knew, for her part in it, this moment would haunt her dreams for a time.

Thranduil didn't release the man until he'd been still for several moments. When he finally allowed the body drop, he shifted his attention to Bard and then Seren.

He let his gaze sway uneasily over her from the tips of her boots to her wide green eyes. Heat and tension flooded him to see her standing there. He was also simply glad to see friendly faces, though there were two blurry versions of everything in his vision at the moment.

"Hello," she said, discomfort over the dead man making her voice quiver slightly.

She shook herself and stepped to the lock mechanism, trying keys in the tumbler. There were only four and soon she had the door unlatched.

Bard stepped next to her as the elvenking stumbled out; still fighting off the sedation he'd been subjected to and helped Seren steady him. When he was certain the king wouldn't fall over, he left them to search the pockets of the dead Easterlings.

Thranduil leaned on the cage, breathing deeply and let Seren take his hands to slice at the knots binding them with her blade. He was annoyed to have been right to worry she'd defy him and leave the camp but also relieved to see her unharmed.

The ropes around his wrists loosened. Her touch flushed through his skin as she held one of his hands still, pulling the loops open and then repeating the maneuver. He shook them off and flexed his fingers though the nerves in his stomach refused to settle.

"Thank you, Seren."

She nodded and slid the blade back into its sheath and then simply watched him critically for a moment. A faint tremble shook him at times and his pupils seemed too large in the low light. Whatever was used in the darts still seemed to affect him.

"We were heading to town hall," she said finally. "It seemed prudent to discover what we're up against."

Thranduil hummed in agreement.

"They are led by a half-elven named Tolvaris and entered the keep from the water through the causeway that takes in goods for the Master. I was rendered unconscious before their numbers were revealed to me and woke in this cage."

Bard came around the cart, a piece of rolled parchment in his hand. "Twenty four were sent to your camp. For what purpose, I can only guess. Caireann returned to try and fend them off."

"We must go as well," Thranduil declared, not quite looking at the human. "Once we have reclaimed the situation in the forest, we can return with greater numbers."

Seren thought about Nuinethir and Eleros and her eyes fell closed as they stung. A shadow was cast over the dancing orange light of the torch and she opened them again to see Thranduil in front of her, though his gaze took a moment to focus on hers.

"We will return for them."

She nodded and breathed in hard. "Then let us not waste time."

"We should get as far from here as we can; as quickly as we can," Bard said.

He turned and hurried back down the path from which the cart had come, looking back to see that they were following.

Thranduil had to readjust his trajectory as he pursued. The sedative was still making it difficult to keep his bearings. When he adjusted again, Seren's hand gently clasped his and tugged him into the shadows behind her. Hoping he was making eye contact with the genuine apparition, he smiled with gratitude. It was a barely perceptible quirk of his lips but he felt her hand squeeze his briefly in response.

The next turn led out to the street connected to the square that surrounded town hall and the bowman waved at them to hide.

Seren dipped behind a long sign mounted on the corner of a shop and put her back to the wall, pulling Thranduil with her. They pressed into the shadows as a pair of Easterlings strode past the mouth of the street. For several tense moments, she didn't dare breathe too hard and she hoped the men wouldn't decide to turn down the passage they were in. The air felt suffocating and Thranduil's presence against her side felt heavy, her palm too hot against his as she pressed him back.

Finally the intruders were beyond their street and they moved out into the open once again, waiting for Bard to signal them to follow. As they entered the courtyard surrounding the master's residence, Seren noted the increase in roaming men.

"Somehow I doubt we're leaving through the front gate," she said.

Behind her, Thranduil narrowed his gaze at the riot of light and shadows, wishing to see what they did.

"How many do you count?" he asked.

Seren answered almost immediately, "Eight, including the two who just passed us."

"They will likely circle around here soon," Thranduil noted. "Town hall is what they are guarding."

Bard agreed and they hurried forward. Once they made their way past the large building, they took a street that led to the same docks he had seen Caireann and Laseviir off from.

"There are more boats over here. We can take one of them to the Lake's southern shore."

Suddenly, an alarmed shout shattered the quiet.

Seren jumped within her skin, reflexively clutching Thranduil's hand tighter.

The sound had come from the intersection they'd deserted.

"I think they found the mess we left," Bard said.

The king smirked.

More shouts filled the air and footsteps began to pound the wooden planks of the city not far from where they stood.

"This way!" the bowman hissed and took off at a run.

Thranduil followed the pull of Seren's hand. Though his vision had cleared a small degree, it was still too blurry and it doubled dizzyingly when he moved too quickly.

He could sense Seren leaning and followed her movements, surprised they smoothly cleared a left turn and then a right, followed by some large equipment.

"Two steps," she said suddenly and then she was bounding them.

He followed seamlessly.

Their surroundings became lighter and wider as more moonlight spilled over them. They were in the southern market.

Instead of going straight to the small docks, they wove around carts and crates and storage sheds before reaching a tool shack built on raised scaffolding. Hanging from yardarms, ten feet above the water, was a longboat in need of repairs.

Bard led them to the ladder and Thranduil went first into the shack, followed by Seren. As soon as her feet were solidly on the floor, Thranduil hauled her back against the wall with him as Bard slipped inside along the opposite wall.

She managed to stifle a gasp and her hearing dimmed around the roar of her pulse but when she glanced outside through a gap in the wood, she saw swarthy men roaming toward the docks. Suddenly the bodily manhandling made sense, though her nerves didn't care as she hid in the slim shadows with Thranduil partially tucked behind her.

The men on the deck below spread out. It would only be a matter of time before they came to the shack. Seren glanced in alarm at Bard.

He gestured toward to the open doors and the boat beyond. It was covered by a tarp.

"Over here," she whispered and pulled on Thranduil's hand.

He followed to the edge, reaching for whatever he was supposed to find and Seren helped guide him into the longboat.

She joined him a moment later and he forcefully steered his mind away from considering the feel of her weight against him, though his awareness of her was distractingly keen.

Bard directed them to lie down and reached for the tarp.

"What about you?" Seren hissed.

"I'll be fine."

He didn't wait for another question and pulled the tarp back into place before reaching for the crank to extend the yardarms out. The boat was moved several feet away from the shack and it swung idly on the pulleys holding it aloft.

Nerves fluttered in Seren's stomach as she chanced a peek from under the tarp. The boat was too far out from the shack for Bard to make it inside. Instead of trying to reach the boat, however; he clutched for hand holds on the shack's exterior and pulled himself out onto the wall. Shuffling over to a yardarm, he pulled himself onto the roof and laid flat on it.

Seren shook her head, smirking. A man appeared on the ladder through the shack's window and she hurriedly pulled back and tucked the tarp down, lying on the floor of the boat to wait.

Thranduil pinched his mouth into a line to stall his questions. By now, if Bard hadn't managed to hide, they would have heard the eastern men celebrating their discovery. He wanted to shift into a more comfortable position but he knew the tiniest movements could shake the boat enough to catch attention.

Not far from their hiding place, the Easterlings were arguing.

"We should probably check the boat."

"How do you think they would have gotten into it? They couldn't jump that distance and the crank is here. Let's go back down and keep checking the dock. There are a lot of barrels and crates they could hide in."

"Do we even know what we're looking for? Besides the elf king, I mean," the other one groused as they descended the ladder.

As the men's footsteps retreated, Seren released a breath she didn't know she was holding. The men weren't giving up that easily however and she settled in to wait.

Next to her, Thranduil slowly shifted onto his back. The boat was just wide enough to fit them but there was no room keep any space between them and in the cold air, his warmth suffused her left side.

For many moments they lay quietly, listening to the men below tear shipping crates apart.

Suddenly Seren giggled on a soft breath.

Curiosity piqued, Thranduil turned his head in her direction. "What is it?"

He could hear the smile in her words as she whispered, "I was just thinking of asking how your sight is doing… Then I realized it was a silly thing to ask."

Thranduil's eyes roamed the total darkness and an amused huff escaped him. "Very silly indeed," he whispered in return.

Seren bit her lip to stifle a stronger giggle.

"You are just as blind as I, for the moment," he continued.

"Yes, we are both in the same boat." Her shoulders shook silently with mirth from her own joke.

Thranduil said nothing to that though Seren chose to believe the faint huff she heard was amusement.

After several long moments, he spoke again in a very low tone. "How is it you can laugh at such a time as this?"

Seren swallowed. "I suppose… It helps to keep me calm."

Abruptly she shrugged and turned her head toward him, though she couldn't see him. "There are also times when something is just amusing."

"Hm…" To himself, Thranduil felt as if his thoughts must echo in the heavy darkness, so loud did they seem. "I must admit I find myself envious."

Seren blinked. She didn't know what to say and she stared into the blackness where the sound of his breathing came from.

Eventually he continued. "It cannot be a coincidence the Easterlings are here now. A dragon's remains are a powerful resource, though the lingering magic surrounding them is dangerous."

"Can they be disposed of?" Seren recalled what Thranduil said about dragon magic being the reason Smaug hadn't been destroyed.

"I offered to have it done, despite the risk to my people but the Master refused; preferring to serve his pride and vanity."

Seren fidgeted. "What use can dragon remains be to anyone?"

"There are many. Weapons forged in fire fueled by dragon bone will inflict lasting injuries that are difficult to heal. The substance within a fire gland can be applied to arrows and when loosed, they light with flame. Heart blood of a dragon is especially dire, however. Dragon magic is the antithesis of all other magic. To those most sensitive to the essence within and of Arda, a wound poisoned with a dragon's heart blood is fatal and without a cure. It is a slow and painful death, destroying not just the flesh but the fea of its victims."

A heavy feeling landed in Seren's stomach. "You fear they will come to the Greenwood."

"Sauron's influence assures it," the elvenking said, grimly. "For over an age, his minions have encroached upon my land and forced my people to retreat. There is precious little of the Greenwood left to defend."

Seren thought of the sickened forest surrounding Thranduil's realm. It was difficult to imagine it had once been lush and beautiful. The memory of what happened during her run through the woods came to mind and she retold of the experience. The king seemed to welcome the change in topic and was genuinely intrigued. When she finished her tale, he was silent while he considered.

"It is rare for the Valar to interfere as Mandos has with you," he said. "The predisposition of your gifts would fall under the purview of Yavanna, she who was responsible for all that grows in Arda. The Guardians who tended the Trees would have been given Varda's blessing. Any of the three could have been responsible for your fate. I could not say what is intended for you and would risk their wrath if I tried… but I must admit I do wonder if your nature would be of use to our kingdom."

Seren shrugged. "No one has objected so far."

Thranduil smirked. "An astute observation."

For a time, Seren quietly considered another more prosaic theory. "What if I'm simply an accident? Maybe I'm not meant to have been at all."

"It is possible," Thranduil admitted, "You may be merely an unintended consequence of another action, though the Valar have never made such a mistake before."

She didn't reply and instead turned her mind to their current situation. The world outside of their hiding place was quiet now and she pulled up a small edge of the tarp to survey the docks below.

They were a mess. Every crate had been opened and goods were spilled everywhere. Many things floated in the water where crates had been pried apart and dumped. Several barrels floated just off the docks.

There was no sign of Easterlings however and Bard had also gone from his rooftop perch.

Adding to the debris in the lake, the boats once tethered to the piers had all been released and now drifted many yards away on the water's surface.

Seren released a heavy sigh. A moment later, she felt Thranduil roll against her back as he followed suit and raised himself up to look out into the night. His profile appeared over her shoulder in the left periphery of her vision and his arm hovered above her, just brushing her waist as he held onto the side of the vessel in which they lay.

She drew a feathery light breath. "Has your vision improved?"

"I do not think I will need the assistance I required before," he replied dryly.

He looked down at her and paused, suddenly aware of how close they were. Before he could retreat, she looked away and stared at the docks. Her focus was so sharp, he thought it seemed forced, a distraction tactic.

"I don't see Bard," she said.

Then he felt it: the subtle rhythmic thump ghosting against him and echoing in the wood around her. His stomach flipped and a flush suffused him. His own pulse pounded a little harder through him.

He thought back to other moments when she seemed frustrated with him, dancing away from discussing it under the guise of a new subject. Redirection was something she excelled in. Then he remembered how she had flushed and stumbled in his hold when he helped her from the boulder; and the way she stuttered on his title without cause; the concern she displayed for him… His mind spun in circles around the notion that she was affected by him.

She continued casually, "We probably shouldn't wait for him. The yardarm –"

"Seren…"

He flicked a glance at the arm he had extended over her and appraised the situation. He decided against giving her a little more room just yet.

She twisted toward him and he noted that she felt warmer.

"We are relatively safe for the moment," he said.

"Well, yes."

Her manner was affable and deceptively matter-of-fact. He admired how completely oblivious she presented herself to be.

"For the moment our lives aren't in imminent danger," she agreed.

A smirk graced Thranduil's features and he leaned closer to whisper in her ear, resisting a chuckle as the beat in her skin picked up speed.

"Yet I can feel your heart drumming a staccato against the floor of the boat. Why is that?"

Seren swallowed hard a few times, her face suddenly so hot it stung her eyes. Try as she might, no plausible answer would present itself. She was certain it was futile. Thranduil's tone betrayed that this wasn't honest curiosity. He knew…

She let out a long breath and inhaled again, trying to bring stillness to her mind and body. Resigned, she made herself meet his gaze and forced down the jitters.

"I'm fond of you... in a way I shouldn't be." The words were mostly steady but it took an effort not to tremble as adrenaline coursed through her with their utterance.

He tilted his head and raised a brow. "Romantically?"

She couldn't help the small smile and shook her head fondly. "Of course." She studied him critically. "Though I think you knew as much when you asked."

Thranduil's reply was a little sheepish. "It did occur to me, but only just." He released the boat and took her wrist in his hand. He found the soft spot underneath it easily and thumbed the fluttering skin. "You were betrayed…"

Seren resisted the urge to relish the warmth the touch caused, watching him with a narrowed gaze instead.

"Otherwise, I might not have known."

She took a steadying breath, pulling her hand free. The friction made her skin prickle underneath her wool tunic. "Like all such things, it will fade in time."

"And if it does not?"

"There is no point in discussing it, my lord," she retorted, her annoyance beginning to rise.

"No?" He couldn't resist matching the confrontation in her tone.

"I think I can guess what kind of objections you would raise: I'm human, you're immortal. You're a king, I'm a stranger from another world. Practical concerns aside, I hold no illusions about this. I don't need to hear it said."

Thranduil marveled at the vulnerability on display. He had not seen her so raw since her first night in his kingdom. He felt heat and a mix of emotions cascade through him. His pulse throbbed faster and he dragged in a breath.

"You are not far wrong."

She scoffed. "Really? I don't think I've missed anything."

"No, but you are mistaken." He leaned over her to pull the tarp down.

"About what?"

"Me."

Seren parted her lips to reply but Thranduil claimed them with his own. The heat that had been simmering in her belly since they climbed into the boat bloomed into a fire and swept through her. A mewl of pleasure escaped as a hand slid over her jaw and cradled her head. She sighed and turned into him, her fingers curling into the fabric of his tunic over his ribcage.

Thranduil groaned when she relented and he pulled her against him. He pressed harder into the kiss, tasting her mouth and breathed hard when she opened up to him. Desire flooded him. She was soft and pliable, molding to him over every inch and his ability to think fled when she held him to her. Fingers snaked into his hair, massaging the nape of his neck. He shuddered.

The boat jerked softly and the pulleys it hung from squealed quietly. They parted as if cleaved by an axe. Seren rolled away, struggling to breathe normally and listening to Thranduil trying to do the same. Dozens of remarks vied for priority but she didn't trust herself to speak.

Bard announced himself. "We must be quick! Patrols come this way at short intervals."

As the boat knocked against the shack once again, Seren threw the tarp back and rose from it. Bard offered his hand and steadied her as she stepped into the small space. Thranduil followed smoothly. His eyes tracked everything with precision and were no longer lost to the black of his pupils.

The bowman, peered out and hurried down the ladder. Seren went next and then Thranduil. She waited to see that he made it before turning away to follow Bard. Daylight would arrive soon as the sky's deep blue color had begun to fade.

Patrols of Easterlings could be heard stomping over the wooden streets and angry shouts from guards that had been locked in stores echoed over the city. Citizens cowered in their homes as the intruders walked past.

"Suddenly it seems a fantastic folly to have constructed only one passage into and out of Lake Town," Bard groused.

They tucked between buildings and wove through the streets, stopping to hide whenever a patrol passed. The service dock loomed ahead and Bard hustled them to a small row boat hiding between barges.

Seren looked out to the water, surprised to see white fog advancing on the lake. Dawn was also rapidly turning the sky gray. She grinned.

"Bard, let me say your reputation is vastly inadequate."

He smiled. "Thank you."

Once they were all seated, he and Thranduil took the oars in hand and they pushed off into the misty camouflage.

Seren's thoughts veered back to what had just transpired and she shivered as the cold contrasted with the warmth that suffused her. She wondered what Thranduil was playing at. He had told her she was mostly correct to think her feelings could go nowhere and yet he'd kissed her and now a terrible hope plagued her mind. She closed her eyes against unbidden memories and tried to focus on what was ahead of them. Thranduil's actions wouldn't matter if they didn't make it home alive.

Please let the others be alright.