Had it always been this quiet? This seemingly never-ending silence which enveloped the space within a shroud, muffling nearly any sound as soon as it appeared; it was unnerving as it was unnatural. Thranduil had never truly noticed it before, or perhaps he had but chose to not pay much mind, always he had someone around occupying the silence, that someone now being gone. And Thranduil was unaware as too what Liruliniel was doing right at this moment. He was utterly in the dark and it was something he had often disliked, especially when it came to her. So often she spent so much time in her own head, the moments she had allowed him in and he, would say he was surprised, but he wasn't to come to learn that she had not returned.

The orcs had attacked; the prisoners had escaped and Liruliniel along with them. He should've seen that one coming a mile off but somehow decided to play ignorant; like she would go, she wouldn't because of the foreseen dangers along the way. No, apparently not because she went anyway and it left him numb, not numb but sudden solitude had created a vacuum from which he felt himself disjointed from what was truly happening.

He wasn't that ignorant, the orc's words still rung in his head and Thranduil wasn't one to look the other way when someone was being so forthcoming. So, a war was coming, another one, one which Liruliniel had been privy to and briefly mentioned and then no more. Somehow, he could feel himself being pulled against a tide, that he did not and could not fight against.

The corridors were quiet as he strolled down them, the torches flickering and spitting as the flames danced about within the iron worked holders. He had never truly noticed how silent their home was, a very disturbing silence indeed. He was alone. Undoubtedly, and somehow, within a home of thousands, Thranduil felt rather alone. The feeling did not dissipate only grew when he came to realise that his son had gone out, after he had ordered the gates to be shut.

Thranduil did not understand, and it took a guard saying that Tauriel was out there for him to understand. Rather like Liruliniel, within this moment Legolas was led by his heart and fondness for someone who, quite frankly, did not wholly deserve his affections. Tauriel, an elf that Thranduil had witnessed grow alongside his son, get trained with him, by Liruliniel, and the three thus soon working brilliantly as a unit. Did he think they'd all cross paths out there? Of course. Legolas was drawn to Tauriel, and Tauriel was being drawn to apparently the right thing, and Liruliniel, in ever truly Liruliniel fashion was being drawn to her wishes of helping and maybe encouraging the younger elves in whatever they wished.

Of course, somehow along the line they would find each other, Thranduil knew that much, and it should've filled him with some peace, it did not. Still didn't solve the fact that three of the elves he was closest to, were out there and he was still here, unable to aid because of being torn. He had never been parted from his son, not like this and the turmoil in his heart was only accentuated by the distance which Liruliniel now left in her wake.

He was being pulled, naturally and against his will into actions he did not wish to take part in. If orcs were planning a fight, a war, especially against those idiot dwarves in the Mountain, they would surely trudge through his lands first. And Thranduil was not having that. By all means, wage the petty fight against the dwarves, but they need not think they would cross without problems upon entering his homeland. Once out of Mirkwood, it was of little worry to him.

Looking up when he spotted a familiar figure, Thranduil moved onwards. Caladhiel looked surprised, but with a soft smile she tilted her head and rolled her eyes. "She has caused problems for you again, I take it?"

Not the words he was expecting and Thranduil tensed a little, he was never wary of Caladhiel, but she was a sharp one. "She is no longer here." Thranduil replied, he could all but see the damaging effect his words had on her.

The smile went, her face turned blank, and she looked around before gesturing a hand. She was near her home, and honestly, this was perhaps the first time he had been within the humble settings of those who lived away from his own quarters. Other than when he had been within Liruliniel's old home, the settings and surroundings were very similar.

At any other time perhaps, Caladhiel would find humour in the tall elf being within the pokey yet homely space, but she sat at the table in the room with a heavy sigh. Thranduil sat down opposite, stretching his legs out and looking at the fire before him. The small space was much like Liruliniel's old home, the small dining area and living room were more or less one and the same. A small kitchen area was off to the side near the corridor which led to the bathroom and bedrooms.

He looked sidelong at his old tutor. He could see she was pained by his words still. "You didn't know." In truth, perhaps subconsciously he had wandered down this way in search of Liruliniel's adoptive mother. If only to get some reasoning, some justification and answers as to why and what has happened. How could he when the woman knew nothing of her departure?

"Imrathon, he spoke of the prisoners escaping, the orcs attacking; but he did not mention Liruliniel going."

Thranduil inhaled slowly, "I am not surprised," he said just as slowly, Caladhiel looked at him sharply. He smiled, despite the moment. "You shouldn't be either."

"I am not sad, I am angry. She knows better than to just go charging off!"

"Does she though? Does she? Her past has been littered with such moments, some without much care or thought put into them at all. It is typical behaviour."

"I was told of the numbers of the pack, sire. And even if your words are true, I am still angry." Caladhiel responded shortly with a frown, Thranduil turned slowly in his seat and looked to her. "Why are you here?"

"I wished to find out if you knew she had planned to go. If the moment arose, if the dwarves managed a great escape, I wanted to see if you knew. But it seems you are as in the dark as I am."

"Would it make anything any better if I did know? Let us be honest, if I knew, I would've tried to talk her out of such a thing. I am all for encouraging her, but not in foolish acts which could see her severely outnumbered and harmed. That is stupidity, and although she may play it down, she is smart; she isn't a fool."

"She isn't alone out there," Thranduil decided someone else should know the current situation. Who was better than Caladhiel? Non-judging, sympathetic and wise Caladhiel. "Legolas and Tauriel are seemingly out there too. I have no doubt that the three will meet up."

Caladhiel inhaled and sighed slowly, smiling and shaking her head she looked around her humble home. "She is fine, I am sure of that. Same goes for your son and Tauriel."

Thranduil frowned at that, "How can you be so sure?"

Caladhiel placed a hand to her heart, "Because if she was dead, or harmed, I would feel it. That much I am certain. Now, would you like a drink if you are staying?" She smirked while pushing herself up and out of her chair. Caladhiel just moved to the small kitchen area, though he didn't answer she could very well see that he was seeking some form of company in someone that wasn't going to project their biased opinions on him.

Caladhiel looked over her shoulder though, and she couldn't help but smile lightly at the sight of him sitting there looking downwards with a hand to his heart. He looked uncertain, perhaps even a little confused and it was in these rare moments that she could still see the young elf she had tutored, and watch grow to become the elf he was now.

=

Little did Thranduil know that currently Liruliniel was standing in a square of a town, darkened by night with snowflakes making languid motions down to the ground below; the ground itself was becoming wet from the mush which the many footsteps had created. She had Girion's supposed descendant behind her, with Thrór's in front, looking up at her with a hesitant expression.

It was like Thorin knew what was about to come his way, and he looked a little apprehensive. She didn't waste time silencing the crowd and putting them all in their places, apparently way below her on the pecking order, so what would she do to him, a friend?

"All of those fancy titles mean little here."

Thorin winced, that was perhaps the wrong thing to say, and everyone seemed to know it. The black-haired male didn't seem to care about his words, whereas Liruliniel sighed and dryly looked upwards at him. Her hands rested on her hips, her thumbs hooking into her sword belt. Smiling she even let out a quiet laugh, coughing to cover the sound up she placed a hand over her mouth. She was clearly trying to hide the growing smile while her other hand was held simply in the air, signalling to give her a moment.

A long moment went past, and she was still quietly chuckling to herself. Shaking her head, she looked around herself and then back at him. "I don't quite like your tone. But I'll let it slide, seems you're that way to everyone. I have been watching, and I have been listening. It is not nice to bully those which have had no dealings with what happened in the past. What Lord Girion failed to do, has no bearing on this man. It is not like your ancestors did anything to deter the dragon, for that much, I am sure. You do not seem to have come from very good stock, shall we say; you do not have the bearing of a warrior, a soldier, someone who has had to fight for everything. My titles may mean nothing to you, but it means something to them." Liruliniel gestured to the side, the townspeople were still all whispering in awe.

"Am I perhaps the first elf you have ever seen? Let alone a Princess. Isn't this your lucky night? A dwarf-King promising riches, and me. Well, how can it improve? Quite simply, I must speak seriously to you, Master; for I come bearing bad news and I fear you and your people will be harmed greatly." Liruliniel said, dropping the slight sarcasm and condescending tone as she stepped forwards looking up at the large, ginger haired man.

He eyed her sceptically, like how a child would if there was a piece of an offending vegetable on their plate. Distrust, distrust and hesitance but mainly this sceptical feeling and aura that was likely to go downhill more. "Yes, yes, I heard." He said with a roll of his eyes, "The dragon and orcs. Well, tell me this, where are they, hm? Are they present in the here and now? No. You are as bad as him with your prophecies of doom."

Liruliniel stiffened and clicked her tongue, stepping back she looked at Thorin. "My friend, I fear I have failed in a way to deter the inevitable, so I am going to ask you not to do this. I am asking something, which is...tremendous of you, especially now that you are here; but I do honestly fear no good is going to come of this." Liruliniel looked at him honestly, her eyes staring into his and she could tell when she was fighting a losing battle.

"You ask me, you ask us, to give up now that we are practically on the doorstep. You ask the impossible." Thorin replied quietly, his eyes narrowing slowly yet his tone and expression was apologetic.

"If you have sway here, please try and persuade an evacuation. Please, Thorin. I will never ask you of anything ever again; please, this is important." These people may seem a little afraid of her, wary to a whole new level but they didn't deserve to die.

"I will try."

"I am in your debt." Liruliniel placed a hand to her chest and bowed her head.

Thorin looked at her sidelong, "I have not succeeded."

She smiled anyway, "Then I am in your debt for trying." She sighed and stepped away, hands tucking behind her back as she stepped beside the stern-faced man who was still present. She smiled awkwardly his way before looking away. "Your prophecies of doom are not far off, sir. Let me tell you that now." She whispered his way, watching his dark eyes grow darker with this quietly spoken to him.

"You say you are from Mirkwood, then are we to believe that the Elvenking is taking action against this?"

Liruliniel smiled slowly, "I'm a messenger of sorts, yes."

This caused more murmurs to travel around, Liruliniel looked awkwardly around with a small wince. These people had only had stories of the elves, no doubt. And they doubted less so that some distant king cared for what happened to them. The Master seemed inclined to believe that too as he scoffed. "This is all ridiculous!"

"Quite right, sire."

Liruliniel lifted up a hand and opened her mouth, only she ceased trying to talk when the man beside her spoke. "I wouldn't bother; you'll be wasting your time." So, her mouth shut, and her hand went back to her side. She was inclined more so to believe he was right. She saw how badly these people operated now.

Shaking her head sadly, she watched the agreement of aid as cheers of a celebration echoed in the air. Were mortals all so easily swayed by greed and riches? Perking up she eyed the stern-faced man before looking at Thorin as he smirked somewhat triumphantly before walking up the stairs to clasp the Master's hand. Something in her went cold, this alliance was going to end in someone being burned, literally.

Turning on her heels she pushed her way through the crowd, not that that was hard seems they parted away from her. As if getting close was going to cause something to happen. She briefly smiled at the small company of dwarves and lone hobbit before calling out lightly. Needless to say, the dark-haired male turned with a frown on his face, be fair that's all Liruliniel had seen in the ways of expression. "Sir! Please...you are the only one here that seems to speak sense and know it. Please, I came to help. Do you know a way in which we can persuade others to listen? I do not think Thorin will try very hard, and though he is my friend, he is track minded on getting home." Liruliniel explained with a small shake of her head.

He tilted his head; he looked over her shoulder at the people all gathering more so for a celebration. The fact they were all seeking to party and celebrate had him tensing on the spot, more so it seemed. "What exactly is it you know?"

"Ah! Now that is a question, I have a good answer for." Liruliniel said while stepping forwards, the boarding underneath her dipped a little as she moved. Her balance didn't falter though as she stared upwards at the man. "Firstly though, what is your name? I can't keep calling you sir, or Lord Girion's heir." Even as this was thrown out in a haphazard way, she saw how he tensed; like being so was such a burden to him, or a long-standing pain that he had come to bear and grow used to. That right there she could relate to.

"Bard."

"Liruliniel! But...you already know that...it is a pleasure to meet you!" Liruliniel said enthusiastically while sticking her hand out. He looked utterly bewildered for a moment before slipping his larger hand into hers. She smiled, "You look confused, is this not how mortals greet and introduce themselves to each other?"

Bard's lips quirked a little, it seemed he was trying hard not to smirk. "It is, that is true. But I do not think I have seen a mortal as you say, look so happy about such a thing."

She laughed and let his hand go, seems she was just shaking it up and down without much mind at all. "Can we perhaps discuss matters elsewhere?"

Bard nodded, "This way." He led the way, not knowing anywhere safer than his home. Though he inhaled slowly, his children had just had to get used to dwarves being in their space. And now they were going to have an elf-Princess? Let alone that elf-Princess be...well, how could Bard say it without being offensive, quite unlike how he believed an elf would be, let alone a princess.

She had an air of something more about her, an ethereal aura that made her seem untouchable, despite of just shaking hands. Her weapons were dotted all about her person, yet even he knew of their deadliness, he'd heard enough stories from when he was a child. Her hair, the colour of woodland leaves in the autumn was all braided together, small ones feeding into a long one trailing down her back. Definitely not what Bard expected, but then he hadn't exactly met many if any elves to compare. If he was internally having these thoughts, he could only presume his children would vocally say them; Tilda especially was probably not going to leave the elf alone.

It was safe to say that the small family definitely didn't expect any more surprises from their day, or night. Even before she had stepped through the door, Liruliniel could hear a small voice ask what was happening outside. Bard had rather noncommittally shaken his head, even with his back to her, Liruliniel could hear the smile in his voice as he replied. That was before moving and looking at her with a small hesitant smile, he looked apologetic and Liruliniel did not understand why.

That was until the owner of the voice practically jumped forwards, small doll in her arms and looked up at her with the widest eyes Liruliniel had ever seen. And then came the questions, the never-ending questions and honestly, Liruliniel thought she could talk fast when on one, this child beat her, hands down.

Laughing gently, she knelt to her level, "Hold up, I may be fast, but my hearing...no, it cannot keep up. Perhaps it is my old age catching up to me." She laughed and sent a grin up at Bard, he shut the door now that she was out of the threshold.

"How old are you?"

"Tilda!" Came another female voice, shouting rather shortly and shooting looks in the youngest girl's direction. "I am sorry, she gets carried away. Today has been eventful enough."

Liruliniel stayed kneeling in front of the young girl, yet she smiled at the older girl. She was pottering near the small kitchen area, seemingly pouring hot liquid into four mugs. Though she now fished out another for Liruliniel. Sliding her eyes back to who was now known as Tilda, Liruliniel smiled. "I am really quite old." She awkwardly smiled and stood up from her haunches and looked around the home. It was cosy, small. She presumed the homes were all a similar, and she even thought as much when she visited the town as a child.

"But how-"

"I'm nearly six thousand years old." Liruliniel cut her off politely enough, Tilda was looking accusingly up at her. She had seen that look on a young Legolas when she avoided questions from him. It was the precursor to leading into a possible tantrum or huffing sighs.

Tilda's eyes grew wider somehow, Liruliniel worried, was that a normal thing? It looked odd. But needless to say, her confession had an awkward silence filling the room. She smiled and sat at the thick wooden table when Bard gestured to a seat. He had shrugged off his worn coat and hung it up, he then greeted his eldest and his son before seeing a chance to save Liruliniel from Tilda.

Though, in truth, asking Liruliniel to sit meant her having to unload all her weapons. At this, the unknown boy's eyes went really large too. Was this a family trait? Tilda clearly saw fit that she was to sit next to the elf and scrambled into a seat. Though her doll was abandoned on the surface as she curiously ran her fingers over the bows shaft.

"What does this say?" She asked innocently and curiously, looking up as Liruliniel placed the longsword against the table as she sat, the other staying in its place at her side.

"Ah, those are runes. Written by a dwarf-smith from Moria. This is Azkâr." She reached for the bow, now that Bard had a chance to look at it, it didn't look at all elvish made. From what dwarf made weapons he had seen, this bow looked like one too. "'Narvi mahatai. Du sherak umha ra du amnāstu manis. Sekātu kardi tisrigiyan.'" Liruliniel recited as her fingers traced over the runes.

She could see the confused expression on nearly everyone's face. She laughed lightly, "'Narvi had me made for the ring-smith and for his loyal service. His arrows truly may they hit their mark.' I was in correspondence, until Moira fell foul, with some dwarves there; and some had discovered this. They believed it was only right I had it, although apparently it isn't the actual one my grandfather had. Just, a spare or prototype, perhaps?" She mused the latter part to herself, though her words still seemed a bit of a mystery to the children, there was something in Bard's gaze which made her think he understood to some extent.

And that didn't surprise her, he seemed wise. With a sigh she leaned her chin against her hand and smiled down at the girl. "Narvi was a great, perhaps the greatest smith of his race. I am led to believe he and my grandfather were good friends. Both worked on the Doors of Durin, it is a door sealed by magic. Only if you know the word to break the seal, can you enter."

"So...what is the word?" Tilda, like any other curious child asked, tilting her head to look at Liruliniel.

"I don't actually know. I've never seen the doors," she admitted with a laugh. Tilda looked a bit deadpanned then, clearly expecting to get some partially secret piece of information. No such luck here. "Thank you," Liruliniel smiled when a steaming mug was placed in front of her. She picked it up and sniffed it, even eyeing the contents curiously, much to the confusion of those around her.

"It's tea," the eldest girl said with a smile, threatening to grow into a grin. A look from Bard stopped her though, wasn't her fault, she'd never seen someone treat tea so oddly before.

"Right, right, I know that." She didn't sound convinced which had the children all looking amusedly at each other. She sipped at it with the quiet mumblings of; "It just smells different than the tea at home." But she drunk it anyway, without any complaints and actually it was very nice. "What are your names?" In amongst the many questions from earlier, Tilda had asked for her name, and she provided it. Although she had struggled to fully pronounce it, which led to Liruliniel simply saying; "All else fails, call me Lark; for that is what my name means, and it was what my mother named me after."

"I am Sigrid, and this is Bain." The girl gestured to herself and then to her brother, Liruliniel smiled and bowed her head.

"Are you definitely a Princess?" Tilda couldn't help but ask, eyeing the elf up beside her with a questionable look.

Liruliniel sighed and shut her eyes, "Aye, I am. It isn't as fanciful as you believe." Liruliniel scratched her cheek, she could only presume that the town did not look favourably at Bard's family and the heritage that came from it. Surely, if they did, he would still be a Lord, he would have somewhere perhaps a little better than this house. But it was often the way that fanciful things would come with a fanciful life, and Liruliniel's life hadn't been all too fancy.

"Enough, Tilda." Bard cut off his youngest from speaking anymore, he could see she was about to. "Bed, for all of you." There was a collective groan, Liruliniel laughed quietly, she remembered that disgruntlement all too well. Yet, they all listened and all bid them goodnight, both girl's going to embrace their father lightly before he kissed the sides of their heads and watched them leave.

Liruliniel waited until their footsteps had ceased walking above, signalling they were all in their beds soon to be asleep before she looked back at their father. "I have foresight, Bard. I have seen Smaug attack your town too many times that I have lost count. Hoping the Master would speak to me about an evacuation plan was the only way to avoid death on a large scale. I had told Thorin that I would help, if he would allow me the chance to avoid this; ultimately, that isn't to be. I wish I could say this is all, but there is a war coming, hence the aforementioned orcs. Your town, your people here, if they do not fall to the fire, then the chances are they will fall to the orcs. You do not have an army. You are ill-prepared for everything, and honestly, I do not wish to see your town destroyed or all of you killed."

Bard sat there and looked at her measuredly, he was taking everything she said in before sighing and leaning his arms against the table. Liruliniel peeked over the rim of her mug, her sea eyes staring into his brown ones as he shook his head sadly. "Where would we go? Would your King take us in? Somehow, I think not. Then where? We can't traverse the wilderness, looking for somewhere to call our own."

Liruliniel hung her head, shaking it slowly she looked at the tea still steaming away. "Do you care for any here?" Her eyes slowly looked up at him, Bard tilted his head slightly. "Other than your family, of course. Is there anyone special to you, in this town?"

"Why?" Bard's eyes narrowed thoughtfully at her; her tone was low as she seemed to think over her next words carefully.

"There is nothing wrong with self-preservation. If all is lost, you have to look out for those that are dear to you. I hate to say it, but from those here, I get the feeling that they would not care to aid you. Not after the ridicule they stood by and watched. Does that happen often?"

Bard took to picking his own mug up, blowing the steam off and taking a measure drink. "I am not looked at kindly." He looked at her curiously, "Somehow I get there is more to this all, then you just wishing to help."

Liruliniel smiled, "True, you are perceptive." He just smiled slightly and nodded his head, Liruliniel sighed. "I want answers. And I feel like somehow, being out here and everything will get me my answers. But I saw how easily those people turned on you, technically the person who probably should be where the Master is, and there was scorn, blame. I have been on the receiving end of that."

"Your grandfather."

"You truly are perceptive!" Liruliniel laughed quietly yet nodded her head sadly.

"You spoke of him in a saddened tone. You look somewhat embarrassed to speak of him too." Bard leaned forwards and looked to the fire when it crackled, it was situated behind him yet slightly to the side of the kitchen.

"I did not know of him, for many years and when I did, I understood why those around me were hesitant. Afraid that perhaps, I would follow in his footsteps. True as it may be, I am curious of the dwarves and their nature; but I also find beauty and wonder in your life, in everyone's. And this is something that I believe my grandfather had too, a never-ending look upon a world so rapidly changing before him, that he found it as wonderful as I, yet also frightening too because of his role within it." Liruliniel explained with a slight sigh to her voice.

Bard could tell this was something she had perhaps repeated a few times but somehow worded differently, if that was for his benefit or if she was keeping things still secret and to herself, he did not know.

"My grandfather created the Rings of Power. He was manipulated into creating evil, and evil flourished; everyone knows the stories, the tales and elvish memory is a long thing, as long as the apparent ability to hold a grudge.

I lived within Mirkwood's walls for centuries, encountering hurdles nearly everywhere. I do not like how the people here so easily blamed you, when you are not your ancestor. Just like I am not my grandfather and have spent the better part of my life, actually fighting against that evil. Despite of what our relatives did or did not do, they tried at the last minute to fight back against something that seemed unfathomable, inconceivable even." Liruliniel waved a hand in the air while leaning back against her chair. "I do not know you, but I can already tell that you are a credit to the rough hand you have been dealt with in life. And, in truth, it is often people like that that are the strongest in character and will."

Bard just stared at her, slightly unblinkingly in truth, as he listened to her speaking so honestly and calmly. There was this calming air about her, almost relaxing yet also an edge which never shifted. He was under no illusion, despite saying her age, to his and anyone else's eyes she looked in her late twenties, perhaps heading into her early thirties; but the wisdom which came from her, almost made him lost for words. "What are you wanting?"

"Right now? A conversation. You are the first mortal I have spoken to in quite some time. The last pair I believe I crossed paths with, were the old King and Prince of Gondor. So, yes...a conversation would be nice."

"How can you drop that information so nonchalantly?" He chuckled; he couldn't help it. She threw this out so casually as if it were nothing at all, well, perhaps not to her but to him? Yes, though true he was not of Gondor, but everyone knew about the great state and those which had ruled for so long before ill-will struck.

Liruliniel beamed, "I am sorry! I am so used to being around elves who just shrug their shoulders or not reply. But my life is boring, dull in a way."

"That I doubt."

Liruliniel looked at him sadly, "The problem with living so long, is that you see so much change; and not always for the better. There is no real beauty in living for centuries, it is hard. It is something I know you and your people once envied and hated us for...but I would take your life over this never-ending struggle any day, Bard. You have a home, and beautiful children who care for you as you care deeply for them. Circumstances could be better, but then that could be said for anyone's life, but it could be a whole lot worse. So don't scoff and contradict, my life has been a fight, and yours has probably been full of untampered happiness and peace."

He looked sympathetically at her, "There have been dark times." Liruliniel nodded, for that, she was sure. It took her moments to realise there was no wife, no mother present. She wasn't going to press that matter. "Do you not have anyone?"

"Are you proposing to me, Bard?" Liruliniel joked, he almost spat out his tea and looked at her with a startled expression as she burst out laughing. "Sorry! Are you alright?" She looked hesitantly at him as he continued to cough quietly, he held up a hand at her though. Liruliniel sighed, "I am sorry there, again. Yes, my soul is bound to another but that isn't the same as marriage. I am not, nor do I have children."

Getting over his moment, he waved a hand gently her way. "May I ask who?" He was just trying to get to know the elf before him was all, and he hoped she didn't see it as him prying.

Liruliniel smiled, "King Thranduil," she almost fell from her chair laughing when Bard, double took and looked at her with a hard look that was just one of true shock.

He shook his head, "If the dragon and orcs do not get us, I believe he may. Especially if he knows I am harbouring you here." He didn't want an elf-King coming for him because of giving their other half tea and talking civilly.

"He will be angry at me, and me alone. You will be safe, I can assure you on that." Liruliniel smiled and looked over her shoulder at the window. She could hear the merriments from here, and she frowned slowly. They evidently made a plan to pull an all-night celebration here. Shaking her head, she looked back at Bard. "Do you have any ideas how to get the people to listen?"

"To break them from this spell, you'll need something truly magnificent. They will not listen to you, for you are not of their kin; and they will not listen to me, because of what was said in the square earlier." Bard admitted with a heavy sigh and a tired look crossing his face.

Liruliniel smiled softly. "You should rest, if you need to. There is no point staying up until the early hours of the morning to talk to me. I will go, leave you to your business." Liruliniel said while pushing back and standing. "Thank you for the tea and conversation." She commented while strapping her sword over her shoulder and picking up her bow.

"Where do you plan to go?" He imagined her to walk the streets, or the rooftops all night. Maybe even go to the party and get shunned there and spoken to rudely. Because that would be the typical thing, the people here would not respect her any more than what the Master and Alfrid did.

That had Liruliniel pausing as she tucked the chair underneath the table again. Where could she go? No one else would take her in, she would either need to return home or stay close for the events that were going to clearly unfold. Bard stood, pushing his own chair under the table and moving around and standing a little to the side of her. "You may stay here," he even indicated to the bedroom to the side.

"I refuse to evict you from your bed. I'm a soldier, Bard, much like my father and brother before me, and I am not a stranger to sleeping out, or somewhere fitting for rest. You go to sleep, and I will just sit here. I have the fire to warm me." She said while moving to the cushioned window seat. She took all her weapons off this time and sat leaning back against the wall, looking outwards at the drifting snow. "Thank you for the offer though, truly, thank you." She smiled so earnestly that Bard couldn't help but be frozen for a moment before nodding and entering his room.

She watched him go, only to smile again when he returned with a furred blanket. She accepted it with another thank you before wrapping herself in it and looking outside as his door shut quietly behind him. Her eyes narrowed in thought, this party was exaggerated, unneeded and ridiculous in her eyes. She was confused how no one other than Bard saw the potential bad outcome which could come from the dwarves entering the Mountain.

Do not get her wrong, she was all for them returning home. But she'd rather not be on the opposing side to them doing so. Unfortunately, that appeared to be how things were going to go. It was thoughts like these, and others such like it, that were still flitting in her mind as Liruliniel's eyes slowly grew heavy and she found herself drifting off against the corner of the wall. The fire crackled quietly in the background, throwing out more heat over burning chunks of kindling and between that and the furs around her, Liruliniel was too weak to resist the pull of sleep.

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(A/N: Nabbed Azkâr from the games, because that bow ends up becoming a freaking beast of a weapon.)

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Edited: 7/July/2025