AN: My first Hobbit fic, please be courteous. This story will have aspects of the book and movie, as well as having my own take on things.

Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own the Hobbit.

Thranduil had been angry when the dwarves had escapes, yet it anyone had asked him at whom his anger was directed at more the elvish king would not have had a ready answer. Was he angrier at the fact that the dwarves had escaped? Or was he angry at the fact that his jailor had been incompetent enough to get drunk when he was supposed to be guarding prisoners? Perhaps the king's anger stemmed more from the issue that not only had it been dwarves who had escaped, but that thirteen people had managed to get out of their cells without any of their guards being the wiser. When word of this spread, and it would, of that Thranduil had no doubt, he would be the laughing stock of the other elven realms. Yes, Thranduil reflected, it was probably that fact alone which made him so angry, yet he did feel a twinge of disappointment in himself for not being able to sway the dwarves from their cause.

Of course he had known what the dwarves were about, Thranduil was not an idiot after all. He had merely asked out of common courtesy, but the elvish king had not been ignorant by any means of what the company had been about. Thranduil had recognized Thorin Oakenshield at once, and had known that the dwarves could have been bound for only place, Erebor. Most likely their goal was to check and see if the rumors were true. The dragon Smaug had not been seen for some time, making many think that perhaps he was dead, but not the elves of Mirkwood. Thranduil knew all too well how dragons could sleep amidst their horde and not emerge for decades at a time. The dwarves would enter the mountain, and lacking any sense of stealth they would inevitably awaken the dragon. Smaug would consume everyone and everything in fire once again.

The king of Mirkwood knew that dragons did not take kindly to having their slumber disturbed. He snorted mentally as he picked up his wine glass. Smaug's wrath would not be sated with the deaths of the dwarves, no, the whole region would go up in flame and more than that perhaps. The dragon would no doubt light the once enchanted Greenwood on fire, but first Laketown would fall.

All of this Thranduil thought over and knew, and so he sent sentries out to keep watch on the floating town of men and the lonely mountain. When Smaug awoke the men would have very little time to flee before the dragon descended on them, so the king had wagons and soldiers prepared. He would not move out until he received word, until he knew for certain that the red worm had been seen once again.

The elvish king did not have to wait long, a few days at most, before one of his sentries returned in great haste. "My king, Smaug has been awakened and when we saw that he was flying towards Laketown I was sent to bring you word. Before I reached the forest I glanced behind and saw that the night sky was red. Laketown is burning, my king."

No emotion showed on Thranduil's face, he had had years to perfect control over himself, but his heart was heavy. He could remember the heat from a dragon's fiery breath as it burned the side of his face, he could still hear the anguished screams coming from his own throat, the smell of burnt flesh still lingered about him. King Thranduil, son of Oropher, had no desire to be near such devastation again, nor see or smell the charred corpses that were always left behind in the wake of an angered dragon. Yet he must act.

Thranduil was a king, and a king always protected and looked after his people. Even though Men inhabited Laketown, Thranduil had always thought of them as his subjects, even though he rarely deigned them with a visit. His warriors had protected town on the lake from roaming bands of goblins for years, and he made sure to always have his wine and other goods delivered by the river route so that the Men would have business and honest work. Since the fall of Dale, Thranduil had made it his duty to see to the continued existence of Laketown, most of which was unknown to the Men of course.

"Ready my steed and lower the drawbridge," Thranduil stood from his throne, looking as regal and undisturbed as only a great king could. "We make our way swiftly to Laketown's defense."

AN: So what do you think? Should I continue? Do you see promise?