Jump to when Thorin's company is sleeping in the cave in the Misty Mountains and are kidnapped by goblins. By this time, Lairiel and Gandalf had rejoined the company somewhere along the Mountain Pass, much to the dismay of Thorin (he had refused to speak to either the Elf or the Wizard). Kili, of course, was not sent back to Rivendell to collect her.
A great loud shriek snapped Lairiel's eyes wide open. Goblins. Six to each dwarf came scuffling through the dark; the thought of unsheathing her sword had no sooner entered her mind when a pack of them were at her feet, gnashing their foul teeth and clicking their ragged black nails. Before they could all but touch her, a flash like lightning erupted in the cave and the goblins before her all dropped dead to the ground. A strong arm had her around the waist, pulled her along the floor and –
Silence. The crack in the rock had closed, concealing all the goblins, the dwarves and Bilbo behind it. Gandalf was already on his feet beside her.
'Mithrandir, we must hurry!' Lairiel cried immediately, unsheathing Alverior where it glittered in the dark.
'And go where?' he inquired with a raised eyebrow. 'Waiting is what we must do: we shall linger here a moment until the quarry has moved along, then we pursue unnoticed.'
'But from where did they come? I was only roused by the halfling's cry.'
'As was I,' nodded Gandalf gravely. 'And good thing, too. It appears a secret passage opens here and we had the misfortune of choosing to camp at its mouth. How unlucky.'
'Indeed. And you will use your staff, no doubt?'
'That is correct.'
'Thank you for sparing me,' said Lairiel fervently, looking up at him in the dark. 'You may well have saved my life.'
'Let us hope, for the sake of our friends, that I only saved you from some discomfort. Come!'
Gandalf thrust the point of his staff at the stone where it cracked in two and parted to reveal a long, dark passage trailing off into the gloom. The air was foul and caused a great foreboding to weigh on Lairiel's heart. Elves as a rule do not bode well with being underground. But she squared her shoulders and gripped her sword before leading the way into the passage.
They moved swiftly and silently, Gandalf with Glamdring in one hand and his staff in the other, down the dank passage until the sound of harsh goblin voices reached their ears. Some had clearly been sent back to check nothing had been lost in the darkness of the tunnel.
Lairiel raised her hand to warn Gandalf to halt before stepping closer, pressed against the rock wall, waiting for the moment to strike. Alverior tingled in her hand as she ran it through the neck of one goblin before swinging it around to cut off the other's head. Her strokes were so swift and noiseless that the goblins were felled before either could properly realise what was going on.
'Come!' she hissed to Gandalf, but he was already hurrying along beside her.
The orange glow of firelight penetrated the dark until they were forced to stop to remain concealed.
'It is as I feared,' Gandalf murmured. 'We have stumbled upon the lair of the Great Goblin.'
'Down there I see the guards who hold the dwarves' weapons,' said Lairiel, ducking back down after peering around to where the passage opened up into the Great Goblin's cavern. 'I can fell them without any others noticing.'
'Not yet,' said Gandalf thoughtfully. 'No, this requires precision. When I step out I will snuff all the fires in the cavern. In that split second you must slit the throats of the goblins and take back the weapons and then we shall rescue our friends.'
Lairiel nodded once and it was done cleanly and smoothly. All the lights went out and all the goblins started yammering and shrieking in a great blind chaos. Lairiel's sword silenced the guard and she took the weapons which she handed to Gandalf. Then, she sheathed her own sword.
'Tell me when,' Gandalf murmured from beside her, his voice barely distinguishable through the cacophony of goblin curses echoing around them.
Lairiel unslung her bow and pulled an arrow taught to eye-level. Her arm was steady.
'Now!'
Suddenly, a bright blue light blazed through the cavern; in a split second, Lairiel's arrow had found its mark and was fired.
Thorin's awe-filled eyes watched it travel across the cavern and straight through the Great Goblin's neck. He fell dead, and the goblin soldiers fled shrieking into the darkness. Then, the light was snuffed and blackness descended once more.
Lairiel leapt from the eagle's back before its talons had touched the stone below. Despite its height, she landed lightly and gave no pause for hesitation before bowing low to the great bird.
'My thanks to you, noble comrade,' she said, addressing the eagle in the appropriate fashion. 'May clear skies fare thee well in future times.'
While Gandalf conversed with the Lord of the Eagles, the dwarves prepared a fire and awaited hares two eagles had departed to collect. Lairiel's eyes fell upon where Thorin sat watching the progress of his kin, with Balin at his side. He was staring at the growing pile of dry boughs being heaped by Fili and Kili as though lost in thought; in truth, he was recalling the sight of the fair Elf maiden standing bold and bright among a sprawling sea of those foul goblins, a white-elm bow held steady in her hands as she struck the death-blow upon his captor and freed them all.
Suddenly, he looked up to see her standing there before him wearing an expression of mild neutrality.
'You bear a wound, Master Oakenshield,' she noted, gesturing to the gash he had received from a goblin's flying arrow into the side of his large hand.
'It is but a scratch,' he said lowly, turning his hand so that the cut was concealed. 'No hindrance to me.'
'I can tend to it, if you wish,' she offered lightly. 'Clean the wound and such; I am no great healer like Lord Elrond yet I have some ability.'
'Thank you,' he said pointedly, 'but it will not be necessary.'
He did not know why he was refusing her aid when but a moment ago he had been considering tearing a bandage from the hem of his undershirt.
'I believe it would be for the best,' she persisted, with a slightly harder note to her tone.
Thorin looked up at her with irritation colouring his face, but then he recalled the image of her felling the Great Goblin and his exasperation faltered.
'As you wish,' he conceded, and got to his feet.
She lead him across the eyrie to its sheer edge, away from the happenings of the others.
'Moonlight is an important key to healing,' she explained, turning to face him with a smile.
Her silver-brown hair shimmered under the light of the moon and stars, her pale skin appeared to smoulder gently and her silver eyes glittered as she smiled. Thorin, looking all the worse for wear after their debacle in the burning trees, felt shamed by her purity. She moved with such grace against his lumbering gait that when she knelt upon the stone ground, he was wary to sit as far from the edge of the cliff as possible. Despite all that she had done for the good of his company, Thorin was still mistrustful of the Elf and eyed her movements closely.
Lairiel took a pouch of water from inside her cloak as well as a silken cloth. His big hand seemed calloused and clumsy in her two slender ones, though now that he looked Thorin noticed scratches and cuts abhorring her clear skin. Her touch was surprisingly gentle as she cleaned the wound with the wetted cloth. He watched her face as she worked, his gaze probing the fair, placid air that hung like a mantle about her person. He was determined not to be affected by it, not to fall under her spell; he had to stay on his guard at all times.
She worked in silence, binding the clean wound in another silken wrapping.
'The bandage is of Elf make, and thus will not tear,' she told him quietly, as she tied the knot and let go of his hand. 'It is woven with silk and thyme so the wound ought to heal cleanly and quickly.'
'Thank you,' Thorin murmured, surveying her handiwork, and he surprised himself by feeling deeply grateful. 'Why did you enter the goblins' cavern after us?' he asked suddenly, looking at her through the darkness. 'It was a risk to your life.'
'I swore to protect you,' Lairiel answered simply, stowing the water pouch back inside her cloak. 'And I told you from the beginning that you would, at some point, require my assistance; though it was needed sooner than anticipated, to speak in all truth.'
'Indeed,' Thorin agreed in his deep growl. 'Well, I am grateful,' he said gruffly.
Lairiel smiled broadly at his humble honesty.
'Then you are most welcome, Master Oakenshield,' she said, with a bow of her head, before getting lithely to her feet. 'The eagles are almost here,' she told him in an invitation to rejoin to rest of the company.
He watched her move away with that eerily silent step that had become so characteristic of her, feeling a conflict of gratitude and doubt growing inside his mind.
