Linwe wondered how she was going to face Thranduil the next day for "royalty training" after what she had just witnessed? Could her carefully composed mask stay in place if those images of the Elvenking in the throes of passion came skittering across her brain?
Gazing into her mirror, she told herself, "You are not an Elfling any longer. You are a princess with a princess' duties. Now you are to go out there and make the Elvenking proud." Donning a long silver gown and red cape, she exited her chambers and met with Thranduil in a small but sumptuously furnished room with a long table.
"I am surprised that you don't take meetings in the throne room," Linwe said as Thranduil offered her a seat at the table, on his right. She wondered why Legolas was not to be at the meeting.
"Usually I do. But there is only one throne, and two Elven royals," he replied.
"But what about Legolas?"
"What about him?" Thranduil asked.
"He is the prince, your heir. Shouldn't he be involved in the meetings as well?" she wondered. "Forgive me if I am prying, my lord, but I do honestly want to know all the workings of your kingdom."
"It is all right. I agreed to host you and answer all your queries pertaining to the inner workings of my kingdom. Legolas prefers to be active in the field. Things like trade with Men or Dwarves do not interest him," he explained. "Now, if you are anything like me, you abhor insolence and despise stupidity. You should know that these persons coming will possess both of those qualities. As much as you will want to give them a thorough tongue-lashing, I must advise against it. Just observe and do your best to not kill them, hm?"
Linwe couldn't help but laugh. "Really, Thranduil, do you think me a child? I can conduct myself with grace and indifference for a small meeting with humans."
The meeting was with a man who liked to be called "The Master" and his assistant, Alfrid. Linwe was not sure which one she disliked more, though she leaned towards Alfrid, because while the Master was idiotic and greedy, he was not sneaky. She did not like the look in the small human's black eyes one bit and wanted to keep an eye on him while he was in the Woodland Realm. The way he sneered at Thranduil didn't help her opinion of him.
The meeting was about the trade between the two kingdoms. The Master felt that the gold-gilded barrels Thranduil was sending weren't sufficient, and he wanted more.
"When my people drink more than that amount per week, I will seek counsel for their unfortunate alcohol addiction," Thranduil snipped. "Your town's only surviving because of my kindness and charity. If you continue to come here and belittle my kindness and demand-not suggest but demand-more from this realm, I will cut you off completely. Am I making myself clear?"
Alfrid spluttered, "You-you're rudeness is not appreciated! The Master could go to anyone and get income for this town, probably more than what you give to us!"
"Oh? And to whom would he go?" Thranduil asked. "To Erebor, where a firedrake sits on hoards of treasure? Or to Rohan, who pretends your little village does not exist? Face reality, both of you. You are lucky I pity mortals. I will increase some of the other trade-the used weapons and tapestries-for a time. Make sure you have someone out here once a week. If no one comes, I will assume that you do not care for my generosity any longer and I will order my guards to shoot anyone from Lake-Town on sight in the future, do you understand?"
Linwe watched her king stand, his height imposing and his voice nearly guttural in his annoyance. She could not deny that it was quite the turn on.
The Master and his little whipping boy stood hastily, affronted bit slightly alarmed as well. They knew that they could not do without the Elvenking's contributions to their town, but they did not appreciate the woodland sprite's tone or attitude towards them. In their minds, they were superior than he, and thought he should have treated them better.
"One day we will grow so huge that it will be you, Elf, that has to come to us," Alfrid spat. "You'll be sorry!"
Linwe, who had been silent thus far, stood and stepped in front of the angry mortal. "Threatening the King of the Woodland Realm, are we? Is that really a good political move? You are insignificant in every way possible, far beneath my king, and yet you walk in here as if you were his equal. It is only because of his kindness that he has not thrown you both in the prisons. You'd do well to remember that next time you want to threaten him." She reached into one of the many pockets in Alfrid's coat (dreading having to come that close in contact with the man) and pulled out a golden chain with decidedly Elven engravings. "And you should not try to steal from us. Elf eyes see all."
Thranduil had not seen the little man take the chain, but then he had not walked him in through the gates. Making a mental note to talk to his guards about vigilance, he said, "I suggest that you depart immediately, or there are two cells in which I could store you until your mortal bodies wither away to nought but dust, at which time I will drink my best wine and toast your deaths. Ego!"
They scurried away, led by two guards, leaving the king and princess alone with a heavy silence that hung over them both.
It was Linwe who broke it, saying, "I am sorry, my lord. I know you said to keep quiet, but I was raised with honor and to hear that mortal belittle you and then see that he had stolen from you...I could not keep my tongue."
"You do not have to apologize. You acted justly. And to be fair, you held your tongue for quite a long time. When I was your age and insolent humans came and spoke harshly to Adar, I did not keep my wits about me. It got to the point that he had to leave me out of the meetings."
Linwe was surprised to hear such an intimate piece of information from the king. She had been told in Imladris that he was solitary and secretive about himself and his past.
"I have a task for you, Linwe," he said.
"Yes?"
"The bargeman is scheduled to come in two days. I would like for you to meet him, and ensure that the Master did not send someone who would be so bold as to cheat us. Since you were here today, I think it best for you to go, along with a guard, of course."
"Sure, my lord." She went to take her leave but Thranduil called her back.
"I know coming here was not your idea. But I would like you to know that the mood of the people seems to have improved since your arrival. Tauriel scowls less, and ion nin has spent more time in this realm than he has in the past month," he said. "Fresh blood seems to enliven the masses."
"And you, sire?" she asked.
"What about me?"
"How has your mood been since my arrival?"
Perhaps he imagined that wicked glint in her onyx eyes, but imagined or not it had an unfortunate effect on his Elfhood, and he was glad that he was a master of schooling his face and controlling his emotions.
"I have barely registered your presence before I needed to," he lied. She knew he was lying, so the words didn't bother her. Let him pretend she wasn't either a welcome change or hated nuisance if it made him feel good. "And you, since coming here?"
"Except for the lack of sunlight and increasingly rude king, I have not noticed a difference." She smirked and glided from the room, knowing she'd left him in awe of her tenacity.
She did not know that she had also left him with a hard on that would remain with him all day.
In two days Linwe was accompanied by an Elf guard to the very edge of the river that ran from Mirkwood to merge into the Long Lake leading into Esgaroth. While it was technically still part of the Elvenking's property, it was used by peoples of both kingdoms and considered neutral ground.
At that edge of property Linwe waited for the bargeman to pick up the empty barrels (fourteen instead of what Thranduil had told her was the usual ten, a good thing for a certain Company in the near future) and three tapestries. What the people of Lake-Town did with the things they traded was beyond her, and she really didn't care. She just wanted to do her job and was relieved when she saw the large boat that was heading her way.
A tall man was at the helm, not as tall as Thranduil but taller than she. He wore quite ratty clothing compared with the fine silks the Master had worn, but that did nothing to take away from his physical appearance. She had never known many Men, except the child, Aragorn, but if they all had features like this bargeman, then she really needed to get out more!
He gave her none of the heart-wrenching feelings that Thranduil did, but he was a gorgeous specimen: dark, slightly unruly hair, hazel eyes and a small goatee framing a plump mouth, tanned skin and a fine archer's body. Indeed, he had an impressive homemade longbow and arrows in his barge.
"Aaye," he called in Sindarin.
"Mae govannen," Linwe replied. "Are you the bargeman from Esgaroth?"
"Aye. I am not usually met by Elves when picking up the cargo from King Thranduil," he said in a slightly odd accent. "Is there a problem?" He looked at the amount of barrels and tapestries and added, "There are more here than usual."
"Your Master came by and was most insistent that Lord Thranduil give more to the town. I will admit, you are quite lucky the Master was even returned to you and not imprisoned, especially after his manservant or whatever that little weasel is attempted to steal from us.
"Thranduil has been most generous to your struggling little village, for reasons that I, personally, do not understand. I would not have let that man leave my kingdom were I in charge. But you remember, every time you pick up extra barrels or whatever else my lord deems your town worthy of, that you have no one to thank but Thranduil."
She knew she was imposing. Despite her youth, despite her father being considered kind and her mother supposedly being kind as well, she was born with an innate hardness. She was not about to let a bunch of mortals think that they had gotten the better of Thranduil.
"Well, if I'm being honest, had King Thranduil preferred to lock up the Master and Alfrid for the rest of their lives, I think most of Lake-Town would have rejoiced," the bargeman admitted, looking her straight in the eye.
"Oh? And you publicly demean your superior so bluntly? He looks kindly on that?" Linwe asked. "Tell me, why would you rather they be imprisoned than continue running Esgaroth?"
"You met them, didn't you? They run the town horribly. We have no proper wood for fires, no herbs for medical care, and what herbs we manage to salvage are considered illegal. Most of us are half-dead from the cold and damp and lack of food. We would be better off being our own masters."
Linwe observed his earnest face. He had no guile about him. "You have no medical supplies? No herbs? How can your master consider medicinal herbs illegal?"
The bargeman shrugged his shoulders. "My wife died in childbirth because we had nothing to slow her bleeding. It was by the blessing of the Valar that my youngest daughter survived birth."
She was surprised to see moisture in his eyes. Elves rarely cried, and this mortal was doing so quite easily, with just a few words. Her heart went out to him. "What is your name and how many bairns have you?"
"My name is Bard. I have three children."
"And are you the only bargeman who collects our goods?"
He nodded.
"I will see you next week, Bard. Aa' i'sul nora lanne'lle."
With that, she took her leave, leaving the bargeman confused. What had all that been about? He shook his head to clear it. The conversation had made him late and he needed to hurry and get home to his kids.
"You want what now?" Thranduil had been lounging in his throne, observing his kingdom from the high perch, as he enjoyed doing of an evening. That was when Linwe approached him with a very odd request. "Don't you think that we do enough for that forsaken town?"
Linwe shook her head. "Of course we do. But that utinu en lokirim has dropped to a new low, refusing his people the herbs our people cultivated centuries before that town even existed. That is not his property, and he has no right to deny his people of what your people gave them."
"All right. What do you need?" Thranduil asked, noticing her slip and say "our people". She already considered herself a member of the Woodland Realm.
"Permission, sir. Just your permission to go and pick herbs and give them to Bard to give to those who are ailing in Esgaroth."
"But why, Linwe? I do not understand," he said.
"Mortals, by design, live less than a hundred years. Few make it past the centennial. I find it quite cruel for any of them to have to die even sooner than that. Their lives are a blink to us, but to them eighty years is a very long time indeed. With our long lives, who are we to deny them the right to live a bit longer if they can? They deserve the chance to live as long as possible, and we can aid them," Linwe explained.
The king leaned back in his throne, taking in the beautiful princess with the heart of gold. Her kindness reminded him of his late wife, and it made yet another chink in the armor around his heart. "Tell me, were you so taken by the human that you feel the need to save him?"
Linwe scoffed. "Are you asking me if I developed feelings for a mortal? My lord, have you smoked what the wizard Radagast keeps in his pipe? I pity him, not love him!" She wanted to add, How could I think of any other creature in a romantic way after being in your presence? But, of course, she could not say something so bold to a king thousands of years her senior. It was not proper, unless he made an advance first.
"I did not think so, but I had to be sure. Go. Take what you need for him, as often as you please. Just make sure that he is to never tell anyone who gave them the herbs. For if the humans decide to go to war with us...well, then I really would pity them." He waved his hand for her to go.
She curtseyed, saying, "Thank you, heruamin."
He watched her leave, wishing that the tugging on his heart would cease, but like it or not his walls were coming down and he was powerless to stop it.