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It was a well-known fact among the folk of Laketown that Bard the Bowman was a friend of the Elven King of Mirkwood. From the moment Thranduil made his famous first visit to the town, the word began to spread. The exact nature of this relationship Bard managed to keep a secret, but it was about the only secret Bard managed to keep.
Thranduil didn't help either, as he took up the habit of paying visits, often unannounced. He had left the royal guards and the crown home, but a tall, blond elf was not hard to spot.
The elves of Mirkwood followed Thranduil's example. They hadn't been seen in Laketown for many years, but now as Thranduil spent more time in the town, some of the elves had taken their chance to do a little exploring themselves. The elves also seemed to want to make sure that their king was safe. Humans were notorious for causing trouble, and the elves didn't want their king caught up in it without back-up. Besides King's duty was never over, so they occasionally came by with reports to give.
So it became not at all unusual occurrence to see an elf wandering the streets of Laketown. Or just see one perched on a rooftop, keeping an eye on the town. The best way to move around Mirkwood was on the treetops, so why should Laketown be any different.
These elves that came to town were interested in humans too. They could often be rude to them, or so they were perceived by some as details of human-interaction were mystery to them. They could be unpredictable, had a tendency for mischief, and had a bad habit of wandering where-ever they pleased; ships, rooftops, the like.
The elves however had strange respect and interest for the elderly folk of the Town. Despite all of them being older than any of the old people, they showed much kindness and politeness to them, and there was an air of sadness in them as they talked to the old folk.
Some of the elves had struck an odd friendship with the kids of the town. There were plenty of kids in Town, something that the elves were not used to. And the kids, unlike adults, were not afraid of the elves, occasionally being as bold as to ask for piggyback rides, which the elves provided. It seemed some elves had the same fascination for human kids as Thranduil did.
This did not sit well with some parents. Elves were dangerous, and riding on one's shoulder across rooftops was not something kids should be doing, was the general consensus. This didn't stop the children. Also there seemed to be talk of elves taking children. Thranduil had assured that that was not a thing they did, though Bard felt a little embarrassed that he even had to ask. Bard tried his best to answer to all of the complaints, since they seemed to be targeted to him instead of Master.
There were some other complaints about elves. Mostly about how rude they could be, and how could people get them off their roofs. Bard just told them in both cases to whack them with a broom until they took the hint and went away.
Master made no remark about being so rudely passed on the subject of elves. He had been strangely quiet about the whole thing. Bard thought the whole thing had passed from Master's mind, until one morning about a week after Thranduil's first visit, before any of the elves had started appearing in the town, when there was a knock on the door. It was a loud knock, the kind only a person who thought they had law behind them would make. Bard knew that kind of knock, one learned to know that kind of knock if one lived in Laketown long enough.
Bard got up from the dining table where they were having their breakfast, and opened the door. Outside was Braga, one of Master's most trusted men, with a couple of armed guards behind him. Bard gave them the most unimpressed look he could muster, while still chewing on a piece of bread. He smiled though, when Braga peered over his shoulder inside the house.
”Morning,” Bard said. ”Looking for elves?”
Braga had the decency to look startled.
”Master wishes to see you,” Braga said.
”Of course he does.”
Bard turned to look at his children who were sitting by the table, halfway through their breakfast, and staring at him.
”I'll be back as soon as I can. Don't go anywhere.” Bard then turned to offer a smile, not a very pleasant one, to the waiting soldiers. ”Let's get going then.”
- -
The Master was dressed, which was impressive enough. On some days he would just receive visitors in his nightgown. The reek of liquor could be smelled all the way from the door, and Bard fought the urge to start breathing through his mouth.
Alfrid was there, of course. Bard couldn't stand Alfrid. Master was bad, there was no doubt about it. He held such contempt towards the regular citizen of Laketown that he did anything in his power to make their life miserable if it could forward his own greed. And that was the point, he had all the power. Nowadays he was so drunk most of the time that he was practically harmless half of the day.
Too bad Alfrid was there at those times, probing him into action. Alfrid knew people, he knew people at their worst, knew their hate, their greed, their jealousies and grudges, and he knew which string to pull, which words to say to get people to do things.
Judging by the glare Alfrid was giving him, the feeling of dislike was very much mutual. Bard stepped in front of the table. Master stared at him for a long time, holding a glass of some liquid so strong that it made Bard's eyes water just looking at it.
”Bard,” Master finally exclaimed, voice full of carefully placed cheerfulness.
”You summoned?” Bard said.
”Indeed I did.” Master smiled, so wide that his yellow teeth showed. ”The Elven King's visit to our humble town caused quite a commotion, didn't it?”
”I can assure that I did not invite him, he came on his own accord.”
”Hmm,” Master said. ”Tell me, Bard, how long have you known the Elven King?”
”About half a year, I'd guess. We met on the riverbank, when I was picking up the barrels.”
”And your relationship?”
”I consider King Thranduil my friend. Can I ask what is the purpose of this inquiry?”
”Patience, Bard. And does King Thranduil consider you his friend?”
”That you would have to ask from him.”
”I have to wonder,” Alfrid suddenly intervened, starting to talk to Master as if Bard was not in the room at all. ”What would a king find attractive in a man such as this?”
”My charming personality, surely,” Bard answered. ”Can I go? I have work to do. Unless you have actually something to say to me?”
”I hope you know how much the town's well-being relies on good relations with the elves,” Master said. ”I merely wish you wouldn't treat the king with the same manners as you treat other forms of law and government.”
Bard resisted an urge to roll his eyes, but did it anyway.
”Am I clear?”
”As a day.”
”Good, you may go.”
Bard just turned around and walked away.
- -
Bard had barely exited the building, when Alfrid caught up to him.
”I was wondering when you'd come and tell me what that conversation was really about,” Bard said, and started walking towards his home, his steps so quick that Alfrid had to half-run to keep up with him.
”We know what you are up to, Bard,” Alfrid snarled.
”You do? That's good.”
”And it's not going to work.”
”Oh no?” Bard asked, smiling at the passing woman, who bid him good morning, and finally picking a corner to stop and turn to Alfrid.
”Using the elves to cause people to side with you against Master,” Alfrid said, keeping his voice low, because people of Laketown were naturally curious and quite big gossipers. ”It will never work. People don't like elves, and elves don't care for people. You better drop this plan immediately if you know what's good for you.”
”I'm afraid I can't do that.”
”Why not?”
”That would upset the king, and wasn't keeping good relations with elves the most important thing?” Bard asked. ”Good day, Alfrid.”
- -
Bard told about this incidence to Thranduil next time he went to pick up barrels from the river. Thranduil listened to him without interruption and after Bard had finished was thoughtful for a long time.
”Should I go talk to them?” he asked finally.
Bard set down the barrel he had been carrying, and turned to Thranduil, sitting on a barrel, and poked his nose.
”No. And this is not like the time when I told you not to come to my house and you came anyway, this is a real no.”
Thranduil made a face, his eyes crossing slightly as he stared at Bard's finger still pressing his nose.
”I can see that you did not take Master's comment about manners to heart.”
”You have complained about my manners since day one, why change now?” Bard said, and grinned. He continued packing the barrels in the boat, under Thranduil's watchful eye.
”Do tell me if that Alfrid-person becomes a nuisance,” Thranduil said.
”That man was born a nuisance,” Bard noted. He turned to look at Thranduil, who was looking very displeased. ”Worried, are we?”
Thranduil didn't answer. Bard walked up to him, wrapping his arms around Thranduil's waist.
”And he said that you folk don't care for us human.”
- -
He probably should have noticed that something was wrong, when people came to him about the elves, and not to Master, but he was too busy trying to balance his children, the tens of odd jobs he did for a living and an elf who kept appearing in his house. And it made sense that people would want to talk about the elves with Bard rather than Master. Bard knew elves, some of them even by name. It seemed that people thought that Bard also knew more about handling elves than Master, though Master's advice would have probably been not as direct as to whack them.
Bard did have couple of words with Thranduil about the elves now popping by the town. Thranduil guaranteed that they would not pull any weapons if people didn't pull weapons first, and most did not consider brooms weapons.
He definitely should have noticed that things were getting weird when people started coming to him about new shipments, wondering if the elves needed anything. On the other hand, it made sense for people to want to lessen the hands the goods went through before reaching the buyer. It was not strictly illegal, since the merchants paid taxes and filled forms as regulated by Master, Bard just pointed to them an elf that could help them get rid of their goods in exchange for a reasonable price, and sometimes told them what Thranduil had said the elves would be in a shortage of pretty soon.
Master seemed oddly okay with this, possibly because the tax money still kept on coming. And possibly because of the constant presence of elves in the town made him nervous. Served him right, Bard thought and didn't think of it any more.
Then people started to come to him with problems that started swaying farther and farther away from the elves. Things such as a missing dog (which an elf had been able to locate and return to its owner) or some argument between neighbors about when was the right time to practice playing flute. Bard didn't mind, as he was friends with these people and it was an honor that they considered his opinion so high as to actually ask it.
He didn't know that they considered his opinion so high that they didn't even bother to go talk to Master.
One day one of the spies of Master smiled and waved at him when he walked by.
That was when Bard knew something was going on. And he knew that the Master couldn't ignore it much longer either.
There was a week then, when the kingdom of Mirkwood had some visitors, and for that time the elves disappeared completely from the streets. And the Town fell into a restless silence.
People didn't come to Bard, not even greeted him on the street. They seemed scared when Bard talked to them, but they refused to tell what was going on. Bard didn't like it.
Something was going on, but he couldn't just march up to Master's and demand answers, because it was still Master's Town. So he kept quiet, and waited for the week to pass.
- -
Then one day there was a knock on the door, it didn't quite have the command behind it, it usually had had, not quite as much law and order. Bard went to open the door. Outside were seven armed men, Master's guards, looking like they would rather be anywhere else but right there.
”Yes?” Bard asked.
”We're here to arrest you?” One of the men said. It was not a command, it was merely a soft question. And soon Bard realized why there was no strength behind the threat.
There was an elf sitting on the rooftop opposite his house. Bard recognized her as Tauriel, one of captains of Thranduil's guards. She was watching the armed men with silent curiosity. And the armed men were glancing at her with increasing nervousness. Finally one of the men cleared his throat.
”Could we, could we just maybe threaten you a bit? You know, wave our weapons at you, tell you not to do this sort of thing again. And then we can say that you got away.”
”What's going on, Marcus?” Bard asked. ”Where's Braga? Isn't he usually the one who comes to me waving weapons and making threats?”
”Braga's been temporarily removed from his position,” Marcus answered. ”For saying that maybe it's not a good idea to round you up. We really don't want no trouble, we swear.”
”What was supposed to happen after you had got me in front of Master?” Bard asked, a feeling of dread creeping up on him. Marcus shook his head, so he repeated, louder: ”What was supposed to happen?”
”We don't know. He don't tell us anything no more. Says can't trust us. We're all under the elves' spell, or something. Personally I don't mind them, our lil' Tim's been hanging out with one of them, and she seemed nice, for one of them pointy eared fellows. But Master's been rounding up people who are too friendly with them elves, and are too friendly with you. It's not right, Bard, they're not criminals, they've done nothing.”
”That's what he's been doing? Is he seriously thinking that this could work?”
”Don't know. But he seemed to be in the opinion that this would get you off his back.”
Bard could feel a hand tugging on his jacket. It was Bain, with Tilda behind him.
”What's going on, da?” he asked, and suddenly Bard realized what Master was doing. Sigrid was out there, in the town. She had gone off to buy some fish. Bard pushed Marcus aside from the doorway, and leaning against the railing as far as he could, shouted to Tauriel:
”Find Sigrid!”
Tauriel stood up in alarm, looking at the armed men, but she decided that they were no threat. She nodded at Bard and started running towards the center of the town, hopping from rooftop to rooftop. Bard could feel his heart hammering in his chest, and Bain and Tilda were looking very worried, clinging to him.
Marcus and his men glanced at each other, unsure. Finally Marcus spoke:
”We'll be off then.”
- -
Sigrid was making her way towards the market, when she noticed that something was off. People were looking away from her and kept on giving nervous looks towards the roofs, empty of elves at the moment. She was not stupid, she knew how this town worked, how these people liked to turn their head when there was trouble ahead.
She glanced around herself, trying to figure out if she was followed. It didn't seem to be the case, but she still hurried her steps, keeping an eye on the people around her. When she saw Alfrid on the opposite side of a canal, wearing his trademark sleazy grin, she gasped, taking a sharp turn left, and running into arms of a huge man. She didn't recognize him, and didn't hesitate to scream when the big arms lifter her up. She tried to struggle free, but it was in vain.
”Don't struggle, pretty,” the man told. ”It's only going to hurt more.”
Sigrid kicked his knee, and using the loosening of the grip, elbowed the man in the gut. The man let out a grunt and let her go. Her escape was cut short by another man pressing a sword against her throat.
”He told you not to struggle,” the second man said, offering a menacing grim to Sigrid as two more men emerged from the shadows. ”And I think you should cut back on the screaming as well, we wouldn--”
The man's words were cut short by an elf landing on top of him. Sigrid spun around just enough to see another elf knock the two men out, at the same moment there was a big hand on her shoulder, pulling her towards. The pulling stopped as suddenly as it began and a familiar voice said:
”I wouldn't if I were you.”
The hand let go and there was a dull thump behind her, like a big body hitting the floor. She didn't dare to look, instead her head snapped up as she tried to locate Alfrid. But he was already gone.
Thranduil appeared on her side, the blade he was holding mercifully clean of blood. And it must have been because it was a familiar face, but when she saw him, she cried out:
”Uncle!”
And fell to his arms, clinging to him, shivering. Thranduil put one comforting arm around her shoulder, and spoke to the other elves in low voice.
”Sigrid,” Thranduil said, and his voice had a tone that made her look up. Thranduil was looking at him, a faint sense of concern in his usually controlled features. ”You are not hurt?”
Sigrid shook her head.
”I am glad. Tauriel will take you home. Your father is waiting.”
Thranduil nodded towards a female elf, who smiled at Sigrid.
”You will not come with us?”
”I have some things I must take care of.”
Slowly Sigrid let go of Thranduil's jacket, and walked to Tauriel, her legs still a bit shaky. Tauriel offered her arm for her, that sympathetic smile still on her face. Sigrid took the help offered and together they started to walk towards her home.
When she turned to look back after a couple of steps, there was only the third elf, keeping a watchful eye on the four men. Thranduil had already disappeared.
- -
Bard waited by the door, his heart in his throat. Bain and Tilda were still not sure what was going on, but they didn't dare to ask. Not when their father looked like that. Bard felt like he couldn't breathe properly, like the air around hard turned into something so heavy that his lungs just couldn't take it in.
They stood like that for what seemed like forever, Bard staring out into the town unblinking, until his eyes watered and he had to close them.
Finally he saw Tauriel, and slightly behind her, steps wobbly and eyes downcast, holding onto the elf's arm, was Sigrid. Bard ran to them, gathering his daughter into a huge hug.
”Some men were trying to take her,” Tauriel said, like giving a report. ”They are in our custody.”
”Thank you,” Bard said. Tauriel merely bowed.
”It was Alfrid,” Sigrid said suddenly, looking at his father. ”I saw him, just before they attacked.”
Bard frowned. He looked at Tauriel, and looked at Sigrid, and looked at Tilda and Bain, still waiting by the doorside.
”Tauriel, may I ask you for another favor?” he asked.
”Anything,” Tauriel answered.
”Take my children inside and stay with them. Don't go anywhere until me or some elf comes to tell you it's okay.”
Tauriel nodded.
”But da,” Sigrid began. ”What are you going to do?”
”I'm going to have a little talk with Alfrid.”
- -
”How does it feel like to wake up one day to realize that you have lost all the power you previously held?”
”My Lord,” Master of Laketown said, bowing to Thranduil, who had just appeared through his balcony door, one Master was pretty sure he kept locked at all times. Master wasn't quite sure what to do, so he backed into a chair.
”You didn't answer the question,” Thranduil said, his eyes fixed on Master, full of cold fury.
Master's hands shook. He really wanted to fix himself a drink, but he couldn't, not under the Elven King's stare.
”My Lord,” Master murmured.
”You set out some men to arrest Bard. Under what charges?”
”Disruption of peace,” Master said, trying to hold up his head high, his back straight. He was the law and the justice in this town, it was his town. ”Bard has been a thorn in this town's side for years, causing commotion and...”
”And his daughter?” Thranduil interrupted.
”My Lord?”
”Sigrid, daughter of Bard. Under what charges were you trying to detain her?”
”We didn't...”
”A last futile attempt to regain some of the power you lost. To show you still have a hold over this town. You were going to use her as some kind of game piece, to get Bard to do what you wanted.”
”My Lord, I had nothing to do with this, this attack on Bard's children you speak of. It must have been Alfrid.”
”I have no doubt about that. You don't seem like a man stupid enough to try to pull that string. You do seem a man desperate enough to take the only option left for you.”
Thranduil waited, but Master said nothing.
”Choosing to be silent? This is the first time you have shown any form of intelligence, and for that I congratulate you,” Thranduil tilted his head, but kept his unblinking eyes on Master, who was looking visibly uncomfortable under the glare. ”You have lost, Master of Laketown. There is no doubt about it.”
”What now, My Lord?” Master stuttered.
Thranduil walked to Master, and leaned closer, until Master was staring deep into the brilliant blue eyes. Master tried to hold the gaze, but he couldn't. When he turned his head away, he could see Thranduil's lips quirking up to a meanest smile he had ever seen.
”What happens next depends on you,” Thranduil said, straightening himself. ”I am going to give you some options.”
- -
Bard knew where Alfrid was heading. Now that he knew their plan had failed, he was going to return back to Master with his tail between his legs. And he would be avoiding any open areas, where the elves could catch him easily, so his route would be longer.
Bard caught up on Alfrid on a tiny, tight pathway going between two houses. Alfrid, when he saw Bard, immediately tried to turn around, but Bard caught him by the collar, twisted him back around and didn't even stop to think. He just punched Alfrid in the face, very pleased with the crunching noise that Alfrid's nose made as it broke. Alfrid fell, holding his bloodied face.
”I know it was you,” Bard growled, murder flashing in his eyes. ”You thought you could scare me off.”
Alfrid looked like he was about to protest, but what came out of his throat instead was a faint gurgling sound. Bard dragged him up by the shirt-collar, until he was standing on his wobbly feet.
”I don't care how much you may hate me, but you lay one finger on my children and you're dead man.”
”You wouldn't dare,” Alfrid said, but he didn't sound too sure.
”You're right, beating you to a pulp in this back alley just wouldn't give the satisfaction.”
With that said Bard started to drag the helplessly struggling Alfrid towards Master's house.
- -
No one tried to stop Bard. Quite a few people followed them, though keeping a safe distance. When they finally got to the square overlooking the Master's house, a big crowd had gathered behind Bard and Alfrid.
Bard ignored them, walked up the stairs and slammed the doors open. He pushed Alfrid in in front of him. Alfrid took couple of staggering steps, stumbled, and fell to the floor.
”Master,” he began, his voice strange mixture of pleading and arrogance, before he noticed that the figure sitting behind Master's desk was not Master.
”What are you doing here?” Bard asked, walking to Thranduil, who was sitting with his feet on the table, and doing something as normal as chewing on an apple.
”I was waiting for you,” Thranduil answered. ”I thought you'd might want to hear the news first.”
”What news?” Bard said, confused.
”Master is resigning from his post as the mayor of the town.”
”And how much did you help with that decision?” Bard said without missing a beat.
”I gave him options,” Thranduil answered with a shrug.
”Where is he now?”
”In his room, when I last saw him.”
A noise made Bard turn to look at Alfrid, who was trying to get to the door. Bard caught up with him, grabbing him by the collar again, and not very gently either.
”Don't go anywhere, unless you want your nose rearranged, again.”
Alfrid let out a choking sound. Bard turned to Thranduil.
”What am I going to do with him now?”
”I have no legal authority here. It's up to you,” Thranduil said.
Bard sighed, and after a couple of minutes of thinking, he dragged Alfrid to Master's room, opened the door just long enough to push him in and then slammed the door shut.
”I just want to go home,” Bard announced as he returned, walking to the door, not even waiting to see if Thranduil followed.
He didn't get far though, because as soon as he stepped outside he was greeted by a crowd, which contained most of the citizens of Laketown. They were staring at him with silent awe.
”What news?” someone asked.
”Master has resigned,” Bard answered.
And the crowd started cheering, first just a general sound of happiness, but then it turned into a chant: ”Long live King Bard!”
”No!” Bard yelled, and the crowd went silent. ”We are going to do this right! There will be an election!”
The crowd cheered, again. Thranduil appeared to Bard's side, having found another apple, and what looked like a bottle of wine.
”Just let me get home,” Bard said, mostly to himself. He started walking towards home, Thranduil following him, and the crowd let them through. When Bard walked past, people kept congratulating him, patting him in the back, so it was quite a relief to finally get out of the crowd.
”You know you are going to win,” Thranduil said, when they were safely away from everyone, just at the same time as Bard said:
”Somehow I really want to blame you for all of this.”
Thranduil didn't answer, just handed him the bottle.