A Better Place - The Hobbit Fanfiction

Alternate Entry Twenty-Eight - Reconnaissance

I thanked each of my guards personally before they went back home, leaving me safely ensconced with my elves, waving as they went. I then ran up the stairs with my satchels to throw them on my bed and find my favorite elves. "Is anybody home for me to pick on?" I shouted through Legolas and Thranduil's quiet home's pale halls.

"We are here," I heard Legolas say, faintly amused, and I ran to the parlor to throw the door open. I thumped against the solid door instead when it didn't open as I expected it to. The handle only rattled, the door being locked. "A moment," he said, and seconds later I ran through the room underneath his lifted arm. He shook his head at me.

I hopped up in one of the armchairs by the window, grinning. "You two having especially secret conversations today?"

Thranduil gave me a tiny smile from where he stood at one of his large bookcases; Legolas's expression I couldn't see. "I have a task for you."

I nodded. "I am aware. I do read the letters you send me, you know. As I certainly hope you at least halfway read mine."

He lightly rolled his eyes. "Of course, Mabyn. They are certainly....interesting." His fingers made some curious gesture.

I chuckled. "I suppose that's all I can really ask." I flicked my hand in a distinctly imperious fashion I'd learned from him. "Carry on."

"There is a town south of here which has been shorting me on the exports which I regularly purchase from them. I have asked the mayor why he has shorted me and he fails to respond to my missives, repeatedly. I wish you to find out why."

I nodded. "All right. How?"

He shrugged. "You have a talent with men in power, I have found. In some manner or another they all seem to like you. However if he will not speak honestly with me I do not see why he would immediately do so with you. Can you climb?"

I looked down at my knees, kicking one of my feet back against the padded wood of the armchair. "Some."

"Of what caliber is your visual memory?"

"Perfect."

He lifted one brow at me, and Legolas too raised his head to peer cogitatively at me from the seat he'd taken.

"What?" I looked between the pair of them. "I don't just walk up to your desks and read what you've left on them, you know. Most of the paperwork that crosses my line of vision is in your own language anyway. It's a very pretty-looking alphabet. And it sounds like you've got flowers coming out of your mouth when you speak it," I mused, inspecting the ceiling as I considered my comparison, then nodded when I found it worthy. I then crossed my legs at the ankles and regarded them primly.

I didn't think it was entirely the possibility that I-who was close to three kings-may have read and memorized their documents that had them peering at me the way they did now, but I couldn't fathom what else it might be. But I softened my bright tone, bringing it to a more rational mien. I looked to Legolas, gaze steady and clear. "Remember the night we camped in front of Erebor, the night I disappeared from your camp and reappeared with the dwarves? Remember the wine I'd had? How did I get it?"

He blinked at me, his own expression clean. "As I understand it you requested to sample it."

I turned my attention to Thranduil, who had the smallest of furrows between his heavy brows. "Write to Bard and ask him how I got the wine. I know how to keep more than just my own secrets. By now if you don't understand that you never will, and you are far more frightened of me than I would have expected." My gaze turned dark. "Or have you forgotten already why you have to ask me if I am still safe to do something that I love?"