(Y/n) stood awkwardly between the two younger guards, as the older one had stepped into the large, dimly lit room. The captain of the guard making his way over to a large table, behind which sat a dark-haired man with a neatly trimmed moustache, that appeared to be looking forlornly, down at the pile of parchments in front of him. The half-elf pulling her hat a little further down on her head, as the new man and the captain spoke. The soldier handing over the arrows that had been pulled from the thief's cloak, along her bow and quiver. The new man, whom (Y/n) presumed must be this Bard, the Master of Dale, looking at the projectiles for a moment, before once more whispering something to the captain.

"Bring her in........" The older man called out, after nodding respectfully, to the dragon slayer. The two younger men pushing her into the room and moving her until she stood in front of the table. The soldiers bowing, before leaving the pair.

"Iwar tells me that these are yours........" The Master finally said. (Y/n) not saying anything in reply for a moment, as she got her first good look at the Master. The light from the candles on the table, catching his features. He was handsome, there was no denying it. His soft, yet still strong face, the peredhel was sure, was an attraction to many a woman that called the city, home. His shoulder length, slightly wavy hair that was littered with flattering streaks of silver and his sideburns, both framing his visage, perfectly. But it was his eyes that really caught her attention. She could tell that he was tired, that perhaps the paperwork on his desk, was causing him to lose sleep. Yet there was still something so beautiful about those misty green orbs. There was still a gentleness, despite the fact that he was trying to look stern.

"Maybe................" (Y/n) finally replied, as she shook the thoughts of the handsome man from her mind. Remembering that she had been forced to pack up her wares; forced to come and stand before him, because she had helped stop a thief. And despite her seeing that as a good thing, it appeared as though she was being punished for it here in Dale. The half-elf having to wonder whether the stories about the Master and new Dale, had been incorrect.

"He also told me that both of the arrows entered the cloak of a fleeing thief, at the same time, pinning him to the old tree, without hurting the man........" Bard putting down the arrows and turning his attention to the quiver.

"Is that right...........?"

"It is. You know, I pride myself at my ability with a bow; but not even I could make that shot. In fact, there are only one people's that I know could even hope to make a shot like that. And they are the elves, who use bows very similar to the one that you have............" (Y/n) saying nothing, as the Master got up from his chair, and moved around the table.

"Yet your quiver has the symbol of Gondor on it, and the arrowheads are not of elvish make............Who are you, what is your name.........?"

"My name is (Y/n), and I am nothing but a simple merchant that has come to sell my wares in the market. I spent not an inconsiderable amount of coin to bring my goods here. Goods from as far away as Gondor, Rohan, Bree and the Shire; goods that I still hope to be able to sell, so that I can move on. The weapons you see, I picked up on my travels and are meant for nothing more than my own protection. The roads are a dangerous enough place for a man on his own; but for a female........and I am not just thinking about the packs of orcs that attack poor, unsuspecting travellers. Now, with all due respect, Master, I still have no idea why I am here. When did helping stop a criminal, mean that you were the one that got in trouble.........?"

"And who said you were in trouble...........?" Bard interjected, finding himself growing more and more intrigued by the woman before him. The new Master able to remember what happened the last time that he met strangers that claimed to be 'simple merchants'. Though this time he doubted that it would end with a dragon and a war.

"Well, as I marched here by soldiers, and am now stood before the Master of the city, being interrogated about not only my weapon; but also, about my reason for being here. I would have thought that believing I was in some kind of trouble, would not be a massive leap......." (Y/n) countered. The peredhel not sure where any of this was going; but if this Bard thought he was going to lock her up in some kind of dingy cell alongside the thief that she had stopped, then he had another thing coming. Yet an escape, and possible fight would mean that she wouldn't be able to return to take advantage of Dale's proximity to the dwarves in the Mountain, for some time. Possibly not until this Bard had passed away. It true that mortal lives passed in a blink of an eye for an elf; but still, it would be annoying. That, and she would also have to find where the soldiers had taken Kaspier and her wagon, before she could go anywhere.

"Yes, you are right........." Bard suddenly sighed. Rubbing one of his temples with a finger, before placing the quiver in the desk.

"Believing that you might be punished for what you did, given what has happened, is not a wild assumption to make. And I can only give you an assurance that you are in no trouble at all; and offer you my apology for how you have been treated............"

"And that is very kind of you. Yet that still does not explain why I was brought here." The peredhel countered. Bard letting out another sigh, before making his way back to his chair.

"Well..........I was hoping that I could persuade you to stay and train my men..........."