Written by: Jazi

Rated: G

Disclaimer: Nope, I still don't own Middle earth or its characters. I do own Míriel, Lûtharas and Eluross. Do not use them without my permission.

Summary: What really went on after Smaug was killed?

Spoilers: For the Hobbit

Author's Note:

Another story! This one was the result of a hilarious idea that popped into my head as I was about to fall asleep one night. I decided to act on that idea. Important to know, this story is not in the timeline of my others. It is before Adventures Here and There. Call it a prequel, if you will. Oh, and if you don't understand the barrel jokes, read my stories in order. You have to read the first one to understand, at the very least.

Smaug had done his work, and he had done it well. That dragon had completely destroyed the humans' town. Now the humans were shivering and homeless. Legolas, Míriel and Lûtharas tried their hardest to fix this.

Lûtharas, carrying at least seventeen blankets stacked in her arms, was also trying to direct several elves to where Míriel was building temporary shelters. Legolas was handing out food, also trying to keep things organized.

"This is chaos, why are we the only ones working?" Míriel grumbled when she finally got the chance to haul more blankets to the tents that she had just pitched. "Winter will come fast for these poor people."

"Watch out! Don't trip over that log!" Lûtharas warned her. "You always were hopeless when carrying large loads. Like barrels?"

"Oh yes, this is the stinking town where we get those barrels. I had forgotten. No wonder I hate this so much. These people built those cursed barrels." Míriel groaned. "I so much as see a barrel and I'll revolt and return to Mirkwood."

The two elves continued carrying blankets across the small swampy field until the humans in the tents were satisfied. With that job taken care of, they helped Legolas… unloading food from barrels. Although it took Míriel a good hour to come near a barrel, when she finally got to work, it went much faster.

Finally they were allowed to retire. The three elves headed for the royal tent. Legolas had managed to secure his friends a place to sleep in the most luxurious tent there. Although what it had cost him, Míriel didn't want to know. Thranduil was probably going to strangle his son when they returned to Mirkwood. He held Míriel in extreme contempt. He could stand Lûtharas… kind off.

Legolas secured the tent's door after they had stepped inside. Eluross was already sitting on a blanket—he barely noticed their entrance. He was staring at a map, muttering to himself.

"What are you doing?" Legolas grabbed a spare blanket and settled next to Eluross. The captain of the Mirkwood guard had a very intent expression.

"I'm trying to see if the dwarves could get any reinforcements before the winter begins. Very possible. I tried to tell the king, but he said there was no way the dwarves inside could get a message to their kin. I'm not so sure, though." Eluross traced a finger on the map. "From the Iron Hills, perhaps."

"Working so hard to impress the king?" Míriel teased him ruthlessly. "Trying to get on his good side again? You know those dwarf prisoners escaped while you snuck a drink of the king's best wine. Don't know how, but they got out then."

"Don't remind me," Eluross snapped. "I've been repenting ever since, too. I'm surprised the king didn't simply shoot me then and there."

"You and Galion had the lecture of the millennium," Lûtharas chuckled.

"I thought the king was going to exile you," Míriel agreed cheerfully. "You are a very lucky elf, Eluross. The death of Smaug has saved your sorry life. Now the King is too concerned with extending his treasury to execute you." She grinned and sat down next to Legolas, where Lûtharas had already settled.

"Who is too concerned with his treasury?"

The elven king had come up behind Míriel. Knowing that she was already treading a path of broken glass, the female put on her biggest and most innocent smile. "The prince of course," she replied, without even blinking.

Legolas frowned at her. "Do not draw me into this."

Thranduil sighed and glared at Míriel and Eluross. Lûtharas and Legolas had yet to get on his nerves, they were safe for now. However, the silver haired female with a barrel-paranoia and the captain were fair game. "Eluross, you're on guard tonight… and every night for as long as we are here. Take a few of your soldiers and keep a strict eye on the surroundings. Míriel, you are in charge of the food we are going to give the Lake men. Barrels. Understand?"

Lûtharas and Legolas exchanged a glance, grateful that the king's wrath had yet to reach them.

"Legolas, I would like you to meet Bard." Thranduil motioned to the man that followed him into the royal tent. The man politely stood one step back and only stepped forward to when bidden by the king. "He was the one who slew the dragon."

"You were brave, songs will be sung about that deed," Legolas said courteously, rising. Míriel and Eluross were fuming and kept their eyes on the ground, lest their gaze betray their true feelings of the whole situation. Lûtharas kept to the background.

"I thank you for your kind words. The elves have been very generous. And I just had to stand up for you. I just spoke with Thorin. He said he wouldn't negotiate with the elves here. I told him very bluntly he needed to gather his wits. I'll return tonight and ask if he'll negotiate tonight. If he doesn't—it's war." Bard sighed and seemed very frustrated.

"I'm not beginning a war yet," Thranduil said cautiously. "It is my opinion we should wait it out. They have limited food. Let them starve. Dead bones cannot guard treasure."

"Why do I think we are going to be here for a while?" Míriel groaned.

Míriel was right. Somehow the dwarves must have found food, because the elves guarded the mountain for a while before anything happened. Well, anything of importance. Míriel had sworn she was going to change sides and ally herself with the dwarves if Thranduil kept her in charge of the food. Eluross kept falling asleep at bad times, kept up all night by his guard duty. Lûtharas was the only one who was happy. She almost had convinced the king to let her and a few other diplomats approach the mountain. Bard was getting anxious, both he and Eluross were worried about the mountain getting reinforcements. Whenever he had the time, Bard would discuss archery with Legolas. The prince somehow managed to keep everyone busy and organized.

Finally, one night when everyone least expected it, something happened.

Eluross stood near a small stream, keeping his eyes on the mountain suspiciously. However soon they began to droop. "Eluross, you're falling asleep again, aren't you?" Legolas put a hand on the captain's shoulder.

Eluross jumped a full foot into the air. His eyes wide, he turned to face the prince. "Don't sneak up on me like that."

"Sure, Eluross. Is there anything unusual out there?"

Eluross let out a breath, frustrated. "Nothing."

Suddenly, a loud splash sounded. It was Legolas' turn to jump. "That was no fish," he said to Eluross. "There is a spy about! Hide your lights! They will help him more than us, if it is that queer little creature that is said to be their servant."

A loud snort came from in front of them somewhere. "Servant, indeed!" Then there was a sneeze.

Eluross and Legolas jumped forward. The same voice sounded a little defeated. "Let's have a light. I am here, if you want me!" Suddenly a small little person appeared. Curly hair tumbled over his head. He was wearing elven armor, obviously not made for his size.

Eluross grabbed him by the shoulder, tightening his grip. "Who are you? Are you the dwarves' hobbit? What are you doing? How did you get so far past our sentinels?" He obviously wasn't pleased that the guards under him hadn't done their job right. This hobbit had slipped right into the central defenses.

The hobbit eyed him. "I am Bilbo Baggins, companion of Thorin, if you want to know. I know your king well by sight, though perhaps me doesn't know me to look at me. But Bard will remember me, and it is Bard I particularly want to see."

"Indeed," Legolas replied cautiously. "And what may be your business?"

"Whatever it is, it's my own, my good elves," Bilbo Baggins answered firmly. But if you ever want to get back to your own woods from this cold, cheerless place, you will take me along quick to a fire, where I can dry—and then you will let me talk to your chiefs as quick as may be. I only have an hour or two to spare."

"Míriel was alone at a fire last time I saw her," Legolas suggested. "We can take him there." The prince carefully positioned himself on the left of the hobbit, so he couldn't run away. Eluross still hadn't let go of him.

"Very well," Eluross responded. "But do not try to run, Master Baggins."

"Run? I climbed all the way down that mountain, I do not have intention of running away from my task now," Bilbo retorted.

The two elves led the strange little creature deep into camp, where Míriel was warming her hands at a lone fire. She glanced up at Legolas, and then did a double take. "What is that?" she asked in confusion, pointed a slender finger at Bilbo.

"Mr. Bilbo Baggins," Bilbo answered. "And I am a hobbit."

"Hobbit? Never heard of them," Míriel said with a frown. "Listen, if you want food, go find your own barrel. I'm not lugging any more over here."

"Listen, you have got to get over your hatred of the barrels," Eluross sighed.

"She's not the only one who doesn't like barrels," Bilbo muttered.

About two hours later when the hobbit was dry and Míriel was thoroughly curious about the strange visitor, he was presented to King Thranduil and Bard. Eluross and Legolas stood by the tent door protectively. Míriel snuck in behind them.

The three elves listened with an interested air as Bilbo explained he had a share in the profits. Then he went on to say that reinforcements were coming from the Iron Hills.

"I knew it!" Eluross whispered to Legolas, who smiled.

Finally, Bilbo pulled out the most magnificent jewel that Eluross and Míriel had ever seen. Their eyes nearly popping out of their heads, they stared at the white, gleaming Arkenstone.

Legolas nodded appreciatively. It was a wonder. Even the king stood up.

"This is the Arkenstone," Bilbo announced.

"Arkenstone?" Míriel whispered. "Wonderful!"

"How did he get that, I wonder," Eluross muttered to Legolas.

"Shh, you two! I want to hear," Legolas answered.

"…But how is it yours to give?" Bard was asking.

Bilbo looked a little flustered and then explained he really wanted the whole business to be over with. "That's a bobbit with some sense," Míriel said, nodding.

"Ah, Míriel? It's a hobbit, not bobbit," Legolas corrected quietly.

Thranduil stared at the bobbit—ahem, hobbit—with marvel. "Bilbo Baggins! You are more worthy to wear the armor of elf princes than many that have looked more comely in it…"

"Ooh, that had to hurt," Míriel giggled.

"…Here you shall be honored and thrice welcome."

Bilbo politely declined and Eluross sent his guards to escort the hobbit out of camp.

Bard handed Thranduil the Arkenstone. "I would not feel comfortable keeping it. Hold it for me, for now, my friend."

In a few minutes, Legolas, Eluross, Míriel and Thranduil were left in the tent.

"Ooh!" Míriel exclaimed, scurrying over to where the Arkenstone was sitting on the table.

Thranduil stepped in between her and the table. He held up his hand. "Ah, ah, ah! No touching."

Míriel looked up at him with huge eyes. "But… it's so shiny!"

"No touching. No taking! If the Arkenstone goes missing I'm going to put you in a barrel and throw you down the river."

Míriel shuddered while Legolas and Eluross began to snigger. Then she peeked around the king at the jewel again. "You know, why do we need that dragon treasure anyway? That stone is worth all that dragon stuff! Why don't we take it and run!"

"Míriel, that's the reason I never let you do diplomatic work," Thranduil retorted.

"That would look great around my neck," Míriel continued hopefully.

"You are hopeless," Legolas told her with a laugh.

"Legolas, the no touching rule goes for you, too," Thranduil told him with a smirk at the prince's shocked expression. "No, I haven't forgotten the time you stole my entire pearl collection just so you could throw them at Eluross's head during the Nórui Celebration when you were young."

"I spent hours picking those up," Eluross muttered in agreement.

"Eluross," Thranduil said, with an even bigger smirk, "don't think I'm excluding you. You stole my best wine and you don't even have the excuse you were too young to know better."

Lûtharas and Míriel snickered.

"Lûtharas, no you cannot have the Arkenstone to barter with." Thranduil turned his attention to the dark haired female.

Lûtharas gasped. "How did you know I was going to ask you that?"

"And Míriel, if you come within an arm's length of the Arkenstone… I will act on that last barrel threat. You have no excuse at all." With a last smirk, Thranduil headed out of the tent the way Bard had gone.

When everything was absolutely silent, the elves left looked at one another. "You know he was serious," Lûtharas said with certainty.

"He was perfectly serious about the barrel threat," Míriel agreed.

"He will exile me if I cross him one more time," Eluross concurred.

"I cannot believe he remembered the pearl incident," Legolas wondered.

They all looked at one another again. Then each lunged for where the Arkenstone sat.

There was a struggle, but eventually Legolas, Eluross and Lûtharas were piled on the floor, with Míriel sitting on top of the heap, cheerfully examining the Arkenstone.

"This is beautiful," she announced. "I think it would look wonderful with my silver dress."

"You're heavier than you look," Legolas grunted. "Get off."

"How do you think I feel?" Eluross demanded. "I'm on the bottom!"

"Where in the world did you learn that maneuver when you threw us all to the ground?" Lûtharas demanded.

"Wouldn't you like to know." Míriel grinned and continued her evaluation of the Arkenstone.

At that moment, Thranduil decided to reenter the tent.

A few days later, after the battle had been decided, after the goblins defeated, there were a few still nursing their wounds.

"I'm moving to the Grey Havens!" Míriel announced. "Thranduil has plotted to murder me as soon as I set foot back in Mirkwood."

"You know I think I aged five hundred more years when he stood over us… with that look of his," Lûtharas agreed. "You know, Míriel. I'm coming with you to the havens."

"We're obligated to stay here," Eluross groaned. "Legolas and I will have to deal with his anger."

"And after all that we went through, the goblins, dwarves, annoying barrels, bobbits and the king's temper and we STILL DIDN'T GET TO KEEP THE ARKENSTONE!" Míriel whined. She put her hands on her hips and glared at the Lonely Mountain. "What use does a dead dwarf have for that thing anyway?"

"Father is already calling the battle, 'The Battle of Five Armies,'" Legolas said with a grin, "but I think there were six forces fighting—Míriel stands in her own little group."

With a burst of laughter, they headed back to the royal tent.