I could barely match the pace of my rescuer, though I could not find the time nor the inclination to feel the slightest twinge of embarrassment for that – I was more concerned about how much the speed was making me sweat. The deeper Legolas dragged me into the labyrinth of tunnels twinning their way underneath Mirkwood, the more uneasy I became. I was not entirely sure this Elf would lead me to my freedom or my death, or worse things, things that you know happen to women but that no one dares to speak of. As much as such thoughts daunted me, my concern was mainly for my cousin. No one had seen him before we lost Thorin, I knew now that Thorin was safe – in a way – and yet there had been not sighting of Bilbo, it was as though he had become invisible as a spectre. If I did not find him in the depths of this forest, I was sure the Elves would and I could not say that they would be in any way kind to my dear cousin. It would be far safer if I were to be the one to locate him. A small ribbon of crystal water ran languidly beside us, not even bothering itself to catch up, not daunted in the slightest be the fear of being left behind – it would find us again eventually.

I noticed that Legolas wore his bow and quiver strapped to his back, two long knives intersecting beneath them with their handles in easy reach on his shoulder blades, a long sword was slung at his hip and three small daggers at the other, the outline of more knives indicated further weapons tucked inside his boots. Since Legolas had taken my knives in pretence of disarming me when we were captured, my measly bow and few arrows beneath my travelling cloak and the light short sword in my right leather boot felt like nothing to his heavy artillery – if it came to a fight I was certain I would not be the victor.

Further we went and yet, surprisingly, the smell became less foul, almost cleaner. The stream was widening on its way down beside our small and treacherously uneven path. I could not help but be furious with the way my companion managed not to falter with his steps when I tripped at the slightest provocation of the smallest pebble or loose stone, he might have at least shown me a courtesy stumble. The air began to feel freer and the water flowed faster, taking up most of the cavern now, it had become safer to hop from rocks that jutted up from the water's surface than it would have been to navigate the string thin ledges of the sides; though I supposed Legolas would have managed it easily were he not leading me along.

A low rumbling began above our heads, before I could so much as remark upon it Legolas had slammed my back into the nearest wall, out of the way of the impending avalanche. In the confusion I hardly noticed how the Prince ceased breathing for a few moments, going completely stationary as though he were practicing to be a statue, the way Kili sometimes did if he and I became too close. The wooden slat ceiling over where we had stood on adjacent stones split and one half came swinging down, whilst its other half turned upwards giving me a brief glance into a small room above. For a moment I feared we had been caught; three Elf-soldiers were perched above, though they appeared not to have noticed our presence down below and for that I was incredibly grateful. I was a little more worried, however, when at least two dozen barrels came – well – barrelling down along the line of the false ceiling, spilling into the river in a thoroughly unorganised fashion. I saw then the need for us to be against the wall. The barrels bounced and jostled each other along the surface of the water, I was surprised they did not break on impact.

The ceiling righted itself and above the row of the water and barrels an argument broke out in angry Sindarin. Legolas cocked his head to listen in intently, I recognised his own trepidation of being spotted.

His mouth set in a grim line as he assisted me from the wall to a stepping stone and then on to the next. "They have not seen us." He assured me, my Sindarin was good, but I had not an Elf's hearing. "But we should leave and quickly. They plan to send more barrels soon. They will not waste time, they are late already."

"Where do they go?" I asked quizzically as I watched the last barrel disappear into the tiny speck of daylight visible through the cavern.

Legolas helped me onto the next rock. "To Esgaroth," He studied my face carefully, "We could go with them…"

And find out whatever he is hiding from me about my mother. No, her business in Esgaroth is not at the top of my list at this moment. "I need to find Bilbo." I answered resolutely.

The Elf nodded. He held an air of almost knowing exactly what I would say and do before I had thought to take action. Could I be so like my mother as to be so predictable for him? I tried not to think about that. Every movement brought us closer to freedom and the speck of daylight grew until I could see the coursing river sparkle in the sun, flanked by luscious greenery that seemed almost at war with the dull emerald of the last trees of Mirkwood.

I studied him carefully as I tried desperately to manoeuvre the stepping stones in a somewhat graceful manner. "Why are you helping me?"

"You were in need." The Elf replied with his usual infuriating simplicity.

I rolled my eyes. Elves were smart, but I could not tell whether this one were avoiding my question or genuinely did not understand. "Yes, but why?"

"Why not?"

It seemed to me that he was deliberately misunderstanding my words. "Perhaps because your father is like to hang you for this?" I suggested, it seemed an obvious punishment from the King of Mirkwood, though I did not truly believe even he would ever hang his own son.

"He would not do that." Somehow, I was sure he was not entirely certain of his own words, his father did not seem all too paternal; nevertheless he changed the turn of the conversation. "In any case, we shall not be caught."

I followed his lead. After all, he had freed me, I did not want him as an enemy just yet. "What will you do if – when – we find Bilbo?" I endeavoured.

The Elf nodded, grateful of the dropping of my attack. "I shall escort you to the forest edge and then you would be best to return home; a darkness spreads its wings across these lands, you would be safest back home in the Shire."

I rolled my eyes, sighing heavily. "The journey would not be safe, you know that as well as I." I countered, "Dwarves may be troublesome, but they were a hefty guard." I shrugged and glanced pointedly back the way we had come. "When not imprisoned." We were almost through the opening now.

His brows rose in surprise, "You are loyal." Perhaps he has thought my being removed from the Dwarves would lessen my ties to them, make me see that I was better off without them. I opened my mouth the respond.

"To a fault," Another replied, stealing the words from my lungs. "As are you, my Lord." Tauriel quipped.

In my bewilderment, I almost slipped from the lichen slicked rock I had been perched precariously upon. Luckily, I held my position without assistance, though it was a close call. Maybe she did that on purpose, I cannot deny that she would have probably relished the sight of me falling into the rapidly flowing river. That would definitely be one way of getting me out of her hair for good. After my last foray into a river of Mirkwood, I did not desire to go for another swim in the foreseeable future.

"You should go back." The Prince of Mirkwood ordered fiercely. We were out of the cavern now and the Elf helped me to the eastern shore as though I weighed nothing, his eyes never leaving Tauriel's scowl.

She stood her ground. "Sweet Prince, the gates are sealed, I cannot." Tauriel glanced pointedly at me, the kind of look one would give a piece of excrement in the halls of a great lord. "It seems the prisoners have escaped."

One word caught my attention, "Prisoners?" Had others escaped? Or did his helping me make Legolas a prisoner and fugitive as well?

"Veyra, not now." It was as though Legolas had not even picked up on the pluralisation. "Go home, Tauriel."

"Why?" Tauriel reacted daringly. "She is not her mother, you owe the thaurer nothing." I was not unused to being referred to as the abominable one, but hearing the name coming from her irked me more than any of her other insults had done.

"Tauriel," Legolas warned, his tone dangerously low; as close to a growl as I imagined the Elf to be capable of creating.

The She-Elf seemed impervious to the threat in his tenor, as though she were his superior and not the other way around. "It is no secret, my lord!" She threw back in exasperation. The way she said that made me think that whatever this information was had been popular knowledge in Mirkwood for a long while.

My gaze found Legolas to be boring holes into Tauriel with his icy stare. "What are you not telling me? I would know it this instant!" I implored.

"It is not the time." He responded, not bothering to peer my way, instead he appeared to be ordering the other Elf to either leave or refrain from ever speaking again.

"I care nothing for timing, you will tell me!" I demanded forcefully in a voice that reminded me sharply of how my mother would implore me when I would refuse to eat my vegetables.

Tauriel was losing all patients now, I was surprised she had held them for this long. "If he will not, I shall. Every child deserves to know the name of their father."

"Please." I pleaded in a pitiful voice that I would have been ashamed of were I not desperate for information.

Thankfully, Tauriel obliged, though she began with a sickening sort of exultation that twisted her features darkly; even that did not destroy her beauty – I really do hate Elves. "Your mother was a very formidable woman, by all accounts. She could track anything, as you no doubt are aware of. Your mother's last mission – the one that got her killed – was close to the gates of Mirkwood."

I was not aware of that, as I am certain she knew, but I ignored that for the time being. "But it was Orcs." I reasoned. "Orcs killed my mother."

"Yes, and no." She definitely took immense joy from my perplexed anguish. "They killed her; yes, but not in the way you believe." Tauriel hinted sinisterly. "Your mother died protecting Lord Legolas on their return from a scouting exploit on the edges of the great lake of Esgaroth when they were ambushed. She gave her life for the Prince."

She trailed off, but I knew well the rest of the story; Orcs ripped her to pieces, there were too many of them to fight off. That part was not new to me, Legolas' involvement was. No one had ever bothered nor offered to tell me where she was or who she was accompanying. Strangely, it was a comfort to know that she had not died alone, but I did not know how I felt about her company being the Elf-Prince.

A question tugged at the back of my mind. My father. "Did she even have a chance to tell hi-"

"Enough!" He roared over me. "It is not my place to say." He added more softly, in his voice I could hear that my mother had had the chance; that my father knew I existed.

"So he may know, but I should not?" I spat disgustedly. Was it not my very right to be told such information as to whom my own biological father is should someone be able to provide me with it?

Legolas frowned deeply. "Should he not be the one who looks for you?"

He had a point, but I was still frustrated that I could not glean anything, not even a name from the Elf and I severely doubted that Tauriel would dare go against her Prince once more. Coward.

Tears clawed to slither from my eyes, but I shut them back each time they threatened to escape, blinking back the liquid fury and anguish. "Am I really to walk this world to the end of my days with no parents, seeing as though you will not tell me of my father even after you watched my mother die?" It was cruel. It was heartless. It was not at all like me. But I so hoped it would work; guilt could make one spill secrets, guilt could make one spill blood. I just had to pray I would hear whispered words and not the slow trickle from a vein.

"I tried- I couldn't stop them- I killed them – I – you have to understand-" The Prince stuttered and stumbled over his own words, distress and guilt washing over his visage.

"So you would protect me because you could not do the same for her?" It seemed obvious now, why he was always so kind to me. As though he thought he could make up for one life with that of another. My trick had not worked and I felt a pang of pity for the Elf. He would shield me from the pain of battle, he would shield me from the pain of a name he felt I did not need.

"Yes. No." He struggled for a moment, his internal turmoil evident in those stormy eyes of his. "I am not certain." Legolas admitted, giving in to his own doubts.

I frowned. "You should have told me everything." I reflected, I would not give up the search for my father, even if he would not help me. I was sure I was not exactly angry or distraught, I knew well the tale of my mother, the circumstances made little difference – but still, Tauriel was right and though I hated to agree with her, it should not have been a secret. Not from me. "I should have been informed."

"Even she deserves to know." Despite the implications she settled on her reference to myself, I could have hugged her for saying exactly what I felt right then. Though I would never have told her that.

"Enough!" Legolas roared once more, louder this time, the sound diminishing all else with its echo for a few moments.

A low growling sounded at the other end of the cavern, from where they had just come.

"Did you hear that?" I whispered. Birds had ceased their chirping and animals had forgotten how to move in response to the Elf's outcry, but still there was some sort of noise blooming behind us.

The rumbling was not alone this time. Calls and shouts echoed out of the tunnel, distorted and panicked, and maybe a little… victorious.

"The prisoners." Tauriel informed us grimly.

The sounds of laughter mingled with a few terrified shrieks that were only just somewhat manlier than a small girl's, not much but a little. Amongst the clearly living voices came the occasional smack and crash of wood against stone. The barrels. I had not a doubt that emerging from the caves would be a troop of reckless Dwarves come to claim their freedom. My heart lurched, I should have waited with them, perhaps that way I would be amongst their Company and not surrounded by venom and lies.

No sooner were the barrels spat from the cave's mouth did my frustration descend into relief and even joy, for in the very first barrel, cramped and damp, was a very soggy yet very much alive Bilbo Baggins being squashed by a victorious yet grumpy Thorin Oakenshield. It seemed I need not have ventured anywhere with the Elf, my little Hobbit was right where I should have been, though perhaps I would have preferred a barrel to myself, or maybe even one with a certain other Dwarf inside it.

My eyes automatically scanned each wooden vessel until they found the one I needed to see most. Kili was purposely slamming his barrel into the side of the one that held Fili, laughing as his opponent paddled furiously with his hands to return the forceful blows. The had escaped for not half an hour and already they were playing as usual, something about seeing them again lifted me. I no longer cared who was with my mother when she passed, I had grieved her and would continue to do so, but there were others I cared for almost as much as I had for her and they still needed looking after even if they would deny that fact if ever I were foolish enough to state it.

"Veyra-" Legolas began.

"You do not need to protect me, Legolas." I cut him off before he could argue with me. "Perhaps you and Tauriel should head home before your absence is missed." I smirked. "Let us hope that the next time we meet I am not behind bars once more. Perhaps then you will tell me what I seek to discover."

I set off at a run to the bank, following the make-shift ships. Spying an empty one, I leapt. And overshot. My right foot caught the closest lip of the barrel and sent me hurtling face first into the drink. I landed in the freezing cold water a good foot behind where the barrel lolled lazily drifting in the current.

"Graceful." Fili commented with a barely concealed guffaw.

Kili chuckled, "Almost Elf-like," He taunted.

Splashing the pair of them – to much complaint from both the brothers and anyone whom had the audacity to get in the way of my aim – I paddled my way toward the offending barrel and tried to tuck myself hastily and clumsily inside, I was halted, however, by a pair of arms from behind me that raised me and nestled my body into the remaining space within an already occupied vessel. It was certainly not spacious, nor overly comfortable, yet it was warm; a familiar kind of warm that I had been slowly growing accustomed to during my time with these Dwarves. I palmed the smooth stone I hid inside my pocket, the one Kili gifted me before our parting, I did not want to think what would have happened had I lost it. The arms wrapped themselves around my torso as though we were alone, though of course no one would be able to see them through the shield of our barrel – I could barely see over the lip of it at my tiny height.

"I missed you," Came the dark Prince's playful drawl as his breath curled tauntingly around the curve of my neck, his fingers removed a few stray tendrils of damp hair to expose more milky skin before returning to their post at my waist.

It was almost impossible to grind out the words "I missed you too," especially given that I was struggling to remember how that pesky breathing habit was done, somehow I had quite forgotten. It was certainly true though, I had missed him. Had he been accompanying me I perhaps would have had the courage and sense to ask the Elves more questions and forced their answers, but I had not. Nonetheless, I was glad to be reunited with him, even if this positioning denied me from seeing his face.

"For a moment," He began in a whisper, "I thought you might stay with him on the bank," his hands roamed both higher and lower, ghosting in exploration, never quite touching. "I'm glad you did not." He suddenly held me tightly, as though I were about to try to escape.

I was not about to do any such thing. Those touches were foreign to me, unfamiliar and uncertain and yet I could not say they made me uncomfortable; quite the opposite, I liked them. They made me feel as though I could be adored, as though I might be something more than just myself. Though the wanting and longing that came with them confused me, a sensation I had yet to experience before. I needed more.

"I'm going nowhere." I promised him earnestly in a breathy moan. And I meant it; not just because leaving this barrel, and by extension him, would be nearly impossible with such miniscule wiggle room, but also because I could not honestly think of any place I would rather be than by the side of this particular Dwarf.

I heard his laugh as it brushed the curve of my neck, "Not now, you are not, princess." He agreed. His grip over me tightened for a brief moment as I stiffened a little.

"I am no princess." I objected. I was used to being barely considered a citizen in the Shire; were it not for my mother's outlandish and yet agreeable reputation and manner, I would have been removed outright for my being… different. No peoples, let alone any stubborn Dwarven peoples would have me as a member of their society and they would accept me even less as a princess even to the Dwarf who would never be King.

"You could be one day." Kili pressed, sealing his words with a sprinkling of kisses to my neck.

I blanched from his statement; and yet still I revelled in his certainty of the strength of our relationship, at his affirmation of us. But still… "Your uncle would not approve, your kind would not approve."

"I care not." He chuckled, though not convincingly; Thorin was as much his father as his uncle – as Gerontius had been to myself – Kili cared deeply about his uncle's approval, that was not about to be altered by anyone or anything. "Besides, if Uncle did not approve he would not have been so furiously worried when that filthy Elf stole you away."

I had no retort for that. Why should Thorin care is I ran away with an Elf, surely he would want his nephew to be rid of me as quickly as possible; unless he knows I would never in an Age hurt the prince.

"You are my princess, whether you agree to be or no." He pledged, "You knew that when I gave you your braid."

I twisted the small plait around my fingers, it had been there long enough now that I had no trouble locating it. I always knew where it was, just as I always knew where he would be.

I pressed Kili's talisman to his palm, returning the rune stone to the palm of its owner. "I kept it safe." Though, no doubt he knew I would.

He slipped the stone into the breast pocket of my sodden jacket. "You shall continue to," He murmured, "just as you do my heart." His trust in me flared an unfamiliar rise of something akin to pride and bliss and sheer joy inside of me, of course I would look after what is his as fiercely as I would look after him himself.

I knew by the answering chuckle that he could feel the heat that flushed my face and flooded my chest. The warmth being a stark change from the tepid water I had splashed about in.