Bard's barge moved slowly down the river until it veered toward a secluded fishing outpost. The plan was simple: enter the city hidden in barrels.
For the dwarves, it was easy; they only had to shrink back and stay crouched. For Bilbo and Miquella, it wasn't much different. However, for Leda and Ansbach, the situation proved much more uncomfortable. They were not as small as the others, and to fit, they had to sit in forced positions with their legs bent unnaturally. Even so, it was nothing they couldn't endure.
The second part of the smuggling began upon reaching the fishing post. There, Bard requested a full load of fish to fill the barrels. When Leda understood this part of the plan, her anger grew. She did not consider it acceptable to cover her lord in dead fish. Miquella, on the other hand, saw no problem with it. In fact, he was curious about the experience. Perhaps only he looked forward to using such a method of infiltration.
The fish soon arrived. The barrels were topped off, completely covering the members of the Company. In a matter of seconds, everything turned to darkness, a pungent smell of fish, and dampness. Shortly after, they felt the barge set in motion again.
Bard steered the vessel toward Esgaroth, silencing the complaining dwarves as the boat-gate appeared before them. It wasn't long before they reached the checkpoint, though only Bard could see what was happening; the rest remained hidden in shadows and silence.
"Halt! Goods inspection!" a voice called out from the outside. "Papers, please… oh, it's you, Bard."
"Morning, Percy," he replied.
It was a strange experience: being hidden, incognito, vulnerable, depending entirely on muffled sounds to understand what was happening outside. For Miquella, it was thrilling, though he also began to understand Thorin. In a situation like this, Bard could sell them out at any moment without them knowing.
Bard and Percy continued chatting casually as the entry formalities were completed. Then, a third voice interrupted the conversation.
"All in order," Percy was about to grant the entry permit.
"Not… so fast…" someone else replied. "Consignment of empty barrels from the Woodland Realm… only they aren't empty, are they, Bard?"
The voice was annoying, laden with suspicion. Everyone inside the barrels tensed, wondering if they should prepare to improvise.
"If I recall correctly, you're licensed as a bargeman," he continued, "not a fisherman."
"That's none of your business," Bard replied firmly, showing no weakness.
Bard and this man, called Alfrid, began to argue. However, Alfrid had the soldiers of Esgaroth under his command, and with them, the actual power. It didn't matter if the accusation was just or not; only its consequences mattered.
"Empty barrels over the side," Alfrid ordered the guards accompanying him.
The scene was unfolding very similarly to what Miquella remembered from the stories and films. Bard, though uneasy, trusted he could stop this and get his "passengers" into the city without trouble. But there was a small problem. There were more people hidden in the barrels than in the original story… and some were not as small as dwarves.
It was Trina who, observing everything from the outside, warned Miquella that Leda and Ansbach would be discovered almost immediately with the slightest loss of fish from the barrels. Even if Bard managed to convince Alfrid a moment later, it would already be too late.
Just as one of the soldiers was about to tilt Leda's barrel, something happened. From one of the barrels on the boat, fish shot upward like a fountain, and suddenly Miquella popped up, pushing the fish aside.
"Are we there yet?" he asked with total innocence, his eyes shining with a perfectly rehearsed childlike excitement.
"Ah!" Alfrid let out a small yelp of surprise. "Who…?! A child? A child inside the barrel!?" he exclaimed, pointing at Miquella.
Everyone present stared in astonishment. Some, like Percy and Bard, did so with genuine concern. Inside the barrels, the others were about to burst out… but Trina's reassuring whisper and the invisible pressure of Miquella's power, holding the fish in place, forced them to stay still.
"A child! A stowaway!" Alfrid continued. "Bard is bringing people into the city illegally! He is defying the Master and the law! Quick, arrest him!" he ordered, pointing directly at the bargeman. He had no idea if his accusations were true. Nor did he care. It was a perfect excuse to get rid of Bard.
"No, wait, sir! Don't lock Bard up, he's a good man!" Miquella intervened with a desperate tone… carefully faked, accompanied by an even more high-pitched voice.
"Grab that child too!" Alfrid ordered, already thinking of using him as evidence of the crime.
"We aren't entering illegally!" Miquella hurried to say. "We paid Bard for this trip for my birthday!" He paused briefly, as if nervous. "It's my birthday… and I wanted to leave the Woodland Realm to do something fun…"
As he spoke, he made an apparently unconscious gesture, brushing his hair back. The action revealed an ear that ended in a subtle point, clearly non-human… without anyone noticing the slight glow of his ring.
The soldiers who were about to approach Miquella stopped as they looked at him more closely: the blond boy, the delicate features… and those slightly pointed ears. The only word their minds could associate with that image was elf.
None of them took another step. Not even Alfrid, who fell silent, holding back the order he was about to give. They all knew: the Master's wealth was sustained by trade with the elves, and provoking the slightest conflict with them could cost them, at the very least, their jobs… and at most, something much worse.
Bard, for his part, was as surprised as they were. He had not expected the child he had transported to be, in fact, an elf. He hadn't noticed at all… and that only increased his doubts. Miquella, however, could only laugh to himself at his little lie. Anyone with true knowledge would know that, from a certain distance, there was no clear difference between a human child and an elven one. The ears could deceive the untrained eye. A minor illusion was enough to convince simple men who had never seen a real elven child up close. For them, it was more than enough.
"P-pardon me… young Master Elf," Alfrid finally said, immediately adopting a fawning and forcedly polite tone. "But we will need you to accompany us, along with Bard, to the town hall." He then turned toward the bargeman, hardening his voice. "Bard! You are under arrest for the kidnapping of a noble Woodland Elf."
Bard opened his mouth to protest, though he didn't even know what to say… but Miquella cut in again.
"Wait!" Miquella exclaimed. "They didn't kidnap me. I'm just on a trip for my birthday." He complained dramatically and then looked up pleadingly. "I saw Bard's boat when he was collecting the barrels and asked him to take me for a ride… to Lake-town. There's nothing illegal, I swear. I just wanted to see what was out here. Besides, my personal guard is already coming for me… I'll only spend a few hours before returning."
He said it with that sacred charm that seemed to wrap around his every word.
"You came all the way from the Woodland Realm alone on Bard's boat?" Alfrid asked, watching him closely, looking for any sign of coercion. "Without an escort?" He didn't believe for a second that an elven child would voluntarily hop onto a stranger's boat. Even if it had been an accident, it was still a perfect excuse to lock Bard away.
"I'm not alone," Miquella denied. "They wouldn't let me go this far without company…" He then turned his head and raised his voice naturally. "Mama, can you come out? I think I got us into trouble…"
Leda, who had remained hidden and listening, immediately understood the signal. Her lord was calling her to continue the farce. With difficulty, she emerged from her uncomfortable position inside another barrel—one that was dangerously close to the soldier who had been about to tip it into the canal. The man nearly fell backward in shock.
Leda rose from the barrel with a serious face. Not lively or playful like Miquella, but stern… perhaps even annoyed. It was an expression much closer to what the citizens of Esgaroth associated with elves. And it was enough.
The silence became heavy. The soldiers took a step back without realizing it. Even Alfrid swallowed hard. Leda's presence, firm and contained, intimidated every man present.
"Another one!?" Alfrid exclaimed, though this time without the shock he had shown with Miquella. There was, however, a detail everyone noticed immediately: Leda's pointed ears. Another subtle illusion from Miquella. Furthermore—though no one else could see her—Trina was clinging to Leda's neck, quickly whispering every line she should say.
"Forgive us…" Leda began with a controlled voice. "My son was very impatient to go out. We thought a boat trip would be a pleasant thing for him. We didn't think we would cause any trouble."
"In barrels full of fish?" Alfrid asked, incredulous, reflecting exactly what everyone present was thinking. Not even Bard knew how to justify that. By now, he had left his fate entirely in the hands of his passengers.
"Yes…" Leda replied, containing very real embarrassment. "My son wanted to try something… different." She gritted her teeth slightly before continuing. "Bard explained to us that he was only a bargeman and could not transport us. So we convinced him and bought the fish to bring to the city as a gift from us to the people, as an apology for the impromptu arrival. We thought it would be enough…" She sighed with genuine weariness. "And little Miquella, seeing how they filled the barrels, wanted to climb in to see what it felt like to travel among fish…"
"Yes! It's fun!" Miquella interrupted enthusiastically, holding up a fish. "I named this one Sally." He then smiled proudly. "We're going to eat her."
Alfrid blinked, not knowing if he felt disturbed or just disbelief.
"He wanted this trip to be… interesting," Leda continued. "And well… it is what one does for their children." For an instant, the sentence felt too true, even if the relationship wasn't exactly the one she was portraying. "We know this is problematic, but it's difficult to get my brother-in-law's permission to take Miquella out of the house."
"Please, Master Alfrid," Miquella added with a pleading voice. "We don't want you to lock Bard up. We aren't bad people, and neither is he. You can ask my uncle Thranduil… he'll tell you."
That was enough.
Alfrid was caught in a crossroad. The mere mention of the Elven King left him in checkmate. He might want to lock Bard away all he wanted, but if a single negative word reached Thranduil's ears—and by extension, the Master's—his career would be over. He couldn't take the risk. Although the idea of the bargeman transporting the possibly hyperactive nephew of the Elven King seemed absurd… absurd or not, he could not risk an error in his attitude.
"E-errr…" he hesitated for a moment until composing himself. "Of course, it is no trouble at all, my noble Elves. Esgaroth would never close its doors to any of your kind."
He bowed respectfully and raised his voice for all to hear.