A/N We have made it through the hurricane, seems like it only nicked my town so mission don't get flooded or have a second major natural disaster in one year, accomplished. I mean can't fully say that yet, fire season isn't over...but still.

As for Josephine, she's still stuck with King Grump Butt but maybe a bit of headway is being made.

It's (only?) Wednesday my dudes.

We got this.

Rest was overrated and boring. Josephine was bored. Bored and antsy. There was a time for everything, especially in this story, but she desperately wished it would hurry up and get there. Two weeks into their capture and she hadn't seen a single dwarf, her wounds were (in her opinion) healed up enough that there was no reason to keep her out of the dungeon, and she was kept on the same rigid schedule as before.

Her only saving grace was Bilbo's visits. He spent a lot of time creeping around the caverns, scouting and eavesdropping, but she'd seen him almost every day which helped dull the loneliness. However, being unable to speak without being overheard meant their interactions were rudimentary.

Josephine was also getting worried about not being in the dungeon come the Feast of Starlight. It would throw off their timing again if Bilbo had to fetch her and she was on the opposite end of the caverns from the dungeons.

Fed up, and more than a little nervous about it, she decided to try something instead of waiting around through another anxiety spiral of an afternoon. She knocked on the door of her room and called through the wood. "Tell the King I want to talk to him."

Given how much he presumably wanted from her, she didn't have too much worry that he'd approve her request. A half hour later, she was proven right and the guards outside her door escorted her to his chambers.

He faced away from her, towards the pool of water at his feet while she came down the steps. The guards had waited at the top to give their conversation more privacy.

"I am pleased to see your strength return, though my son tells me the results of your wounds still linger."

Patience, play along, don't come out swinging. "I suppose, in a way, our imprisonment has been good for me then. Not much need for a bow when your guards keep the spiders at bay. I can't lie, I'm thankful for the care your healers have shown." And she was, the pain that had dogged her still through Mirkwood had shown immediate improvements under their watch. Without it, she wouldn't have been as confident in her ability to fight through the rest of the story.

"Cruelty is not my goal by keeping you here."

"I'm not accusing you of cruelty, I'm thanking you for showing me a kindness. But I am wondering why I'm still kept in those quarters instead of being held in your dungeon now that I'm nearly recovered."

He turned, looking stiffly down his nose at her. "You wish to sleep on a slab of stone surrounded by the stench of dwarves? One would think you would instead be grateful to spend your long imprisonment in the room that I have granted."

"I am, but they're also my friends. Believe it or not, I miss them."

"Enough to forsake the comforts I have provided?"

This was going better than she'd expected. She didn't think just asking for it would work. "Yes."

His lips barely twitched but she could see amusement flicker in his eyes. "No. I will not allow it."

Narrowing her eyes, Josephine decided it was time for a new approach. "Why not?"

He smirked at her condescendingly. "You think I cannot tell when I am being manipulated? There is a reason you wish to join your companions in the dungeon and it is not because of your fondness for them."

He was rude, self righteous even, but not stupid. It had clearly been a miscalculation on her part to try.

"I am not foolish enough to believe you are content to reside in my halls. It is merely one step of many that you have seen towards your goal of retaking the mountain. Do not pretend to be less intelligent than you are, Josephine." He sounded almost disappointed in her. "I saw past it from the moment you stepped within my halls."

Well, when lying failed, at times blunt truth had worked well enough for her. "So where does that leave us?"

"You know what it is I seek within Erebor. See that I receive it at the end of their quest and perhaps I will play along with your game."

Josephine eyes him warily, weighing the risks of flipping all of her usual rules about her knowledge on their heads. Thranduil didn't miss her hesitation and swept past her slowly, pouring a glass of wine from the carafe on the table behind her.

"You cannot retake the mountain from within my halls, so it stands to reason that you will eventually escape them. Tell me, or I will triple the guard on your friends and see that you are as far from them as can be managed." He sipped from the goblet, well aware of the position he was putting her in. "I will see that you all wither in your cells until you are too old and frail to escape."

The harshness of his bargain made her uneasy, not the least of which because she fully believed him. "Your grief must be deep to threaten all of that just for her jewels."

"It has burned in my heart for centuries longer than you have lived. You would not understand."

"I understand that grief festers if you let it."

"Tell me, or I will end your journey here." He snapped.

Josephine thought for a few more moments, running through their escape in her mind and imagining how they could still achieve it with a dungeon full of guards. It wasn't promising. "If I tell you, and you don't let us continue our quest, you'll lose valuable allies in the coming decades."

"What allies? Dwarves? Why would we need their help?"

Straightening up, she joined him by the table and poured herself a goblet of wine, well aware she couldn't at most take a few sips, knowing Thranduil's realm had some of the most potent wines in Middle-Earth. "You're not stupid either, you've noticed the signs, you just don't want to admit it. The spiders spawning in Dol Goldur, rumors of a necromancer. An eye painted at the entrance of the forest." His brow creased and she realized she'd caught him off guard for the first time since they'd met. "I've seen it myself, and we both know what it means."

"That is impossible." He hissed. "That darkness was destroyed long ago."

"No, it's been festering. When it finally lets loose you'll want allies, and the men of the west will be too busy staving off destruction to come to anyone's aid, especially yours." She stepped up to him, craning her neck slightly to keep a firm lock on his eyes. "I have seen those armies first hand, and if you keep us here until we're too old and frail to leave, then you can give up all hope for your realm's survival right now."

The fear behind his eyes was quickly shoved aside and he was stone faced yet again. "You spin a dark tale, Seer."

"I'll tell you my plan, but not without your word that you won't stand in my or my companions way when we make our escape. And I'll do everything I can to see that her things are returned to you."

It was a bit grudgingly, but he tipped his head to her. "You have my word."

So now she had to uphold her end of it, and hope he wouldn't derail it some other way. "We'll escape via the river, in barrels headed for Laketown. You should send men after us but because it's a surprise and they'll be busy dealing with an attacking band of orcs, you won't manage to recapture us."

"And just when, should I be unprepared for your escape?"

"The Feast of Starlight. Let the guard and the men in the cellar drink themselves to sleep and we'll take it from there."

"And after you have escaped?"

"Pretend you didn't know anything about it, and do whatever you normally would. Believe me, you sticking to your usual instincts is more helpful in all of this than you'd think." Like please, please don't leave your army in Mirkwood, or worse yet, not show up at all. Definitely come and threaten the shit out of Thorin.

"There is more to your determination to complete this quest than mere victory." He observed, still reading her with what seemed like a complete lack of effort needed.

Clearly, the only way to get anywhere with him was bold frankness, but at least it seemed to be working. "You do this for the woman you loved, and I do this for the man that I love. Now, do we have an agreement?" She needed clear confirmation from him that he'd let things occur and stuck out her hand to him.

Slowly he reached out and grasped her hand. "We have an agreement."

Aragorn's duties carried on, and he bore them with all the strength he could muster. Counsels and meetings and decisions came and went, days passed, and the nights were long. Dreams never left him in peace, sometimes bringing her to him like a gift, and other times echoing with screams and blood. Mornings were lonely and stole his attention as the remnants of the night's visions ebbed away like the shore when they were good, or clung to him like tar when they were not.

But still, Aragorn carried on.

The table of lords in front of him muttered amongst themselves as yet another conflict was resolved to grudging compromise and Aragorn stoked his chin while he waited for the next subject to be broached, whatever that might be. At his right, Boromir looked tired and impatient, flicking his eyes to the window to see how far the sun had moved since they'd sat down. Too much time, far too much.

But dutifully, they snapped back to attention as Lord Avril cleared his throat near the other end of the table.

"I know none have yet had the courage to speak of it in counsel, but given the many months that have passed…"

He paused as Aragorn's eyes landed on him, hard and warning him to drop the subject. But he carried on despite it.

"Should we not prepare for the possibility that the Queen may not return?"

Aragorn's chest clenched and he glared down the table. "No, we shall not, for that time has not yet passed."

Lord Avril cleared his throat a second time, more uncomfortable than the first, and looked around at the other lords. "I only ask out of necessity. Out of the needs of Gondor."

"And what needs, Lord Avril," Boromir said slowly. "Might you be referring to?"

"The King's return has harkened to a prosperous future, but forgive me, my lords…With no heir, there is no promise that such a future would continue."

One of his hands balled into a fist against his thigh and beside him Boromir stiffened as he opened his mouth to respond.

"We have not neared the point where you should be speaking of such things." He snapped. "Nor would the Queen find your eagerness to replace her appropriate."

Bristling, Lord Avril laid his palms flat on top of the table. "I do not wish to replace her, but should she not return, it will be the King's duty to see that his line continues."

Slowly, Aragorn stood, his body as tight as steel. "You are correct, should such a thing come to pass, that would be my duty. But unless such a thing occurs, the only such duty I will be adhering to is my duty and my vow to her. Have I made myself clear, Lord Avril?" His tone was low, and his gaze bore down on the man.

"Yes, your majesty." He said quietly.

Boromir stood as well, his jaw releasing from where he'd held it clenched. "We will speak of this no more."