Rhavaniel had inspected all of the lumber supplies in Mirkwood but had found nothing that compared to the Dwarf bow. There were several materials layered in the bow, actually. She had seen composites before, but never this complex. She really could not ask anyone about it, as that would raise unpleasant questions. She would have to go beyond Mirkwood's borders with the bow, she decided, and make a day of it. She had made such trips before, to the greener woods of Esgaroth. They were never planned trips, which would have been quite disobedient. She just allowed her feet to take her where they would, and they took her to something green and blooming every time.

A planned trip was different. She packed her own bow for protection, food and water, various supplies and sacks for collecting whatever bounty nature might provide. She left very early in the morning, enjoying the sight of dawn over Mirkwood as she took the treetop path.

When she was safely in the woods of Esgaroth, closer to Lake-Town than her own settlement, she dropped to the ground in a clearing. This was the perfect spot. She loaded the Dwarf bow for practice and again struggled to pull it back mere inches.

"Dwarves must have been blessed with strength the way Elves were blessed with speed." she thought. She wondered why the gifts of Ilúvatar had been so unevenly distributed. Did the Father think that if one race had all of His gifts combined, they would diminish all other races into extinction? That did not make sense to her, as a race blessed with all of Ilúvatar gifts should possess nobility and kindness, always seeking to elevate others.

The bow continued to vex her as much as theology. She took out the arrow for safety, braced the bow on the ground with her foot and pulled with both hands. Now she was making progress.

She loaded the bow once more and laid upon the ground. Using both feet on the bow and both hands on the string, she pulled back on the bowstring. How they would laugh at her back in Mirkwood for doing this! Her aim would not count for much, but she pointed at a tall tree and released.

Thwap!

The heavy arrow flew high and true into the trunk with a thump.

Rhavaniel was pleased. Perhaps when she was older, she would be able to use a bow of this heft, for it was a powerful weapon. She climbed up the tree to retrieve the arrow, for she had very few of them.

While she was at her high perch, the fresh ravine caught her eye. The water might have dug up something of interest. Retrieving her supplies from the ground, she scurried back up to the treetops for a better view and headed North, following the ravine. It ended quickly enough with a shallow bed of rocks and mud. Oddly, some of the mud seemed to be moving.

Rhavaniel watched as Kili make his final climb out of the ravine and collapsed. She knew by gait and shape that this filthy thing was a Dwarf. Could it be one from Mirkwood? She had know the Dwarves had escaped the very night of her secret visit to the Keep. But this was a lone Dwarf, not thirteen. She recalled their features from the sketch book the children made, and ruled out all but Shadow on the face of this Dwarf. She jumped to a closer tree for a better look and confirmed it - no beard to speak of, and an archer's glove.

"I have your bow." she called down.

(**********************************)

Kili froze in his tracks. His mind raced through the possibilities - delirium, a necromancer, a trap? An Elf girl was not a possibility, that is until Rhavaniel dropped to the ground in front of him.

Kili jumped back and pulled his sword. Rhavaniel realized her mistake and quickly offered open hands.

"I was studying it." she explained, "I did not know I would not get it back in time for your...release?" She laid his bow and quiver down on the ground and backed away.

Kili's suspicions circled back to a trap, but the bait was very tempting and the plotter quite small and seemingly alone. He crept up to the bow and quiver and grabbed them, his sword still at the ready. When he looked up, the girl was gone. If not for the solid feel of his own bow in his hand, he would have doubted she was ever there. His breath stopped, as he used all of his senses to anticipate how many eyes were upon him, and what they would do next.

Nothing.

He sheathed his sword and loaded the bow and with one slow look around, began walking at a brisk pace.

"Have you any food for your journey?" a soft voice called out.

Kili froze once more - heart stopped. This time, it was not a whole girl dropped sudden from the sky, but a slender elfin hand slipping from behind a tree, tapping an apple she'd placed on the ground.

The bait was less tempting this time, but if some trap were to spring upon him, it would have been done before he was given a bow to defend himself. Kili scooped up the apple, and tucked it in a pocket of his coat. The girl was already gone from behind the tree. But a whistle and a wave lured him to the next tree and leaf-wrapped piece of lembas bread, another apple, and a water skin. He pocketed the food and drank gratefully of the water. With one last look around and a shrug, he set out once more at a clip.

"What kind of wood is that?" Rhavaniel called out, peeking from behind a tree, "Your bow?"

Between Kili's urgent purpose, and his justified caution with all things encountered on this quest, he was reluctant to converse with this Elf girl. But he was a well-raised Dwarf, taught to speak when spoken to. This Elf had followed the rules of courtesy between fellow travelers and he would do a disservice to Dwarf-kind if he fell short of the same.

He weighed caution with manners, and without pausing, he turned his head back for a quick reply, "Yew."

"It most certainly is not yew!" Rhavaniel countered, flitting from tree to tree, first to one side of Kili, then in front and beside again. "My bow is yew, and I have made many a fine bow of yew or boxwood, and even ash. Your bow is none of those."

Since his reply had been met with open doubt, Kili did not believe the rules of manners required him to defend himself, so he kept silent and kept moving.

"Unless the yew grow differently where you are from, or you kiln fire it...or perhaps what Dwarf call yew is not the same in Common Speech?"

"We use root wood.", Kili replied, a bit indignant at the suggestion his vocabulary was flawed. "You Elves are all up in the trees, using branches. You don't think of what is below your feet. Root wood is stronger - it won't break when you need it. I bet my bow will last years longer than yours."

"I hadn't thought of root wood at all. And what is the beast, for the bone and sinew of the other layers?"

"It is horn, not bone, and it is goat."

"That is very interesting. We do not raise goat in the Kingdom. Stag is most commonly used, but not the horns, they are not long enough. I am Rhavaniel, by the way. I'm an arms maker."

Kili cast a doubtful glance, not lost on Rhavaniel, since she was trotting alongside him now. Kili was tall for a Dwarf and Rhavaniel was short for an Elf (or not yet fully grown, she hoped) so they were well matched at eye-level.

"An apprentice, yes. I am still only folding steel, but my arrows are already fit for the Guard. Look."

She pulled out a fistful of arrow, to reveal a veritable sampler of Elf arrow heads. Slender points, leaf shapes, broad heads, a particularly vicious looking crescent, and a curiously ridged small point. Kili touched the last, and jerked his hand back as he tripped the spring barbs.

"Fish hunting head. I should have warned you. My apologies." said Rhavaniel.

"No harm. I've used fish heads before. I'm just not familiar with your type, is all. I am Kili. Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise." and after a brief moment of silence Rhavaniel asked, "How do Dwarf fish hunting heads differ?"

"I never cared for them enough to learn to make them." Kili told her, "I learned to make my own bows and arrows, but I am more interested in using them than making clever accessories. I hunt, I fight, I defend my people. I respect the arms craft, but I cannot converse with you on the right heat for the forge or number of turns on a spring. And I am sure an Elf Guard could not, either."

"You are right, of course." and after a pause, "Do you know where your bow rosin comes from?"

Kili nodded, "Aye, I know that."

In this fashion, Kili and Rhavaniel passed the greater part of the day. They discussed bow string and arrows, tree sap and fiber. Rhavaniel examined the brigantine armor of Kili's gauntlets with enthusiasm - and complete disregard for personal space. She did not slow his pace, for in truth she could have outrun Kili. But her eager questions and pleasant company helped pass the time and take him mind off the worry of locating his companions.

Kili came to a stop on the appointed ridge. He hooted a call to his Company but heard nothing in return. The ridge was far wider than they first thought. Perhaps he was too far East on the ridge for them to hear him? What if something happened to delay them? He knew they would not have passed the ridge without him, would they?

Rhavaniel kissed him quickly on the forehead, and he jumped back as if slapped.

"What was that for?" he asked with some annoyance, as she licked her lips.

"It tastes salty, just like mine. I knew Dwarves did not sweat rust. That was the silliest thing I have ever heard." Rhavaniel replied.

Kili looked at her sternly, "Night is coming, and you will be missed. The party looking for me and the party looking for you doubles my chances of being caught."

Rhavaniel had taken advantage of their pause to take a bite of her own apple, "I will not be missed for nine days, at least. Your odds remain the same. Bettered, if you figure that a second set of eyes will help you avoid a search party."

Kili looked at her doubtfully, "Elves do not misplace their children."

"I am not misplaced, I am myplaced." she laughed, then explained, "I take turns with various relations every seven days. They love me at every turn, but they can forget whose turn it is to love me. I slip away for a day here and there to do as I please. When my family meets and catches up, my welfare is always the first topic of conversation. Today however, I was going from one brother's care to the home of an uncle - two households that just happen to go the longest time between speaking. No one knows I am gone. I take this as a sure sign that I am where I am meant to be. I am myplaced."

"Still, you should be home, not traipsing through woods with strangers." Kili put on his best Uncle Thorin tone for this bit of wisdom.

"Oh, but this has been most educational. You are the first Dwarf I have ever spoken to and you are as easy to talk to as any of my Elf brethren."

Rhavaniel meant her words as a compliment, but she could not have known that this was a source of discomfort for Kili. By Dwarf standards, he was tall and slender-built, with fine features. His beard was still mostly stubble when some Dwarf babies are born fully bearded. He had been teased for looking like a child of Man, or worse, as pretty as a girl Dwarf, on more than one occasion. Each slight had been answered with a fist.

"Am I as well spoken as a Dwarf girl?" Rhavaniel asked guilelessly.

Kili's discomfort worsened, for in truth he had hardly ever spoken to Dwarf girls. Fili, who was older and fared well with ladies of all ages, assured him this would get easier when he grew up and filled out a bit.

Kili was eager to change the subject, "Do you know where we are?"

Rhavaniel turned a full circle, "Hmmm, we are further than I have gone before. Oh, but I know what that is for!"

She pointed up, to the canopy of trees and their thick boughs that blotted out the sun.

Kili was about to ask what was so special about those trees when he noticed it, the way four of them seemed to lean in toward each other. Once he knew what to look for, he could see how their branches almost looked woven together, so tightly that they formed a roof - or maybe a floor.

It was an Elf Guard watchtower. Kili had heard of them. This was at the edge of the Old Kingdom of Esgaroth, where Elf, Dwarf, and Man were once neighbors, sharing in the responsibility of guarding their mutual borders.

"They are still used for fire watch." Rhavaniel explained, "but it will surely be empty this time of year."

"It will be a safe place to wait and watch the entire ridge." Kili grinned.

They raced to the base and began climbing the nearest tree. Kili was an agile Dwarf, and he could climb nearly as well as Rhavaniel.

"I don't think it is derelict. There should be supplies, if we are lucky."

"What will it have?" Kili asked eagerly.

"Arrows, a primus - what we Elves call a portable camp stove, charcoal, flint stones, lamps, and maybe even food."

Rhavaniel found the cleverly hidden trap door and darted inside. She reached down to grab Kili's hand and help him up. He was glad of her steady hand because the lightweight structure began to sway under his weight. He stood perfectly still on the birch bark sheets of flooring as Rhavaniel darted around, opening up the window panels and letting in the sunlight. The swaying settled, and Kili took cautious steps around to find his balance.

While the outside of the watchtower had been allowed to weather to enhance its camouflage, the inside reflected handiwork of bored young Elf Guards with too much time on their hands. Not an inch was left unpainted or uninscribed.

Once Rhavaniel had absorbed the surprising beauty of the place and Kili had mastered a lighter step, they turned to the practical matter of finding supplies. Hundreds of Elf arrows, tied in neat bundles of two-score, were stacked against walls. A few old, unstrung bows were hung high on the walls. There was a well-worn primus, two small oil lamps, and some bedrolls. The food situation fared worse. There were but a few pieces of lembas bread and a large gourd box of pine nuts in the center of the room, protected from scavenging small animals by an overturned cook pot. There was no sign of the food a well-kept tower should have held - an abundance of bread, dried fruit, jars of honey, beans, oats, and a dozen varieties of pickled vegetables in large amber crocks.

Kili sighed, "Better than nothing." and kept looking.

His eyes fell on the nearest wall, and a lovely sketch of the Thousand Caves of Menegroth. Graceful Elf figures peered from every tower spire. Men marched in a great procession to bear gifts to the wise and mighty Elf King, Thingol. The gardens below were intricately sketched in vibrant colors, and continued into lush forests filled with animals. Many hands over many years had made this. But a different and less skilled hand had continued the work by drawing the famous tunnels. Under the castle and gardens, far below the ground, someone had drawn hunched and naked Dwarves, birthing themselves from sacks like maggot larvae, to pick up axes and dig for the glory of the Elf King. That was the role of Dwarves in Elf legends.

Kili pulled the largest piece or charcoal from the primus and scratched out the offending scene. Not stopping with the crude drawing, he continued up, obliterating the garden in black, streaking the towers, and erasing the Elves inside.

"Pssst." Rhavaniel let out a little squeak to get Kili's attention.

He turned slowly, lest he cause the watchtower to tremble again. Rhavaniel silently but excitedly gestured to one of the freshly open windows. A crow-sized bird with bright orange plumage had alit on the sill.

He knew she had intended to point out the bird for its beauty, but Kili had other designs. He had kept his bow close at hand and loaded. With a quick draw and release, his arrow impaled the bird against the window frame.

Rhavaniel spun around, "What did you do that for? It was beautiful, you brute!"

"I did it because I am hungry. An Elf can run all day on an apple and some bread crumbs but I cannot. There's another day worth of food here at best and I may be many days away from finding my people so I am going to have to hunt."

He pulled the arrow and the bird from the wall and headed to the nearest trap door. "I told you, I don't make the weapons, I use them. I showed you respect as a maker. Show me the same for doing the dirty part of the job."

Kili retreated to the forest floor beneath the watchtower, where he started a small fire and cooked the bird alone. He didn't need that stinking Elf watchtower for anything. The Company would find him soon enough.

(******************************************)

As darkness fell, Kili weighed the cost of his pride against climbing back up to the watchtower for one of those bedrolls.

A light appeared, heading toward him, and he hooted out a call his fellow Dwarves would know.

"It's only me." a hesitant voice called lightly. Rhavaniel lowered her lamp and stepped into the light of his campfire.

"I am sorry." she said. "Sorry I judged you. Sorry you are hungry."

Kili nodded a quiet acceptance. He knew he should have been the one to apologize. He should have behaved like Rhavaniel's guest in that watchtower. Guests do not draw a weapon under the host's roof.

"Not much of a meal, was it?" she asked.

Kili shook his head. In truth, it was such a small bird, he would not have wasted an arrow on it under normal circumstances. He had been more angry than hungry when he made that decision, and he regretted it.

"I saved some feathers for you. For fletching, if you want."

Rhavaniel was nonplussed, but her quick and open mind reasoned that this was the way of Dwarfs - to be practical and to share what they had, even if what they had was not appealing to Elf sensibilities. "Thank you. That was very...considerate. Come, please, I have dessert ready in the watchtower, and it is not safe for you to sleep down here."

With a quick dousing of the fire, the pair climbed back to the watchtower.

When they returned to the treetop shelter, all of the window panels were closed, and the lamps were lit.

"I had to close them, lest our light be seen from other towers, but I looked out every direction first, and even went out on the treetops. I have seen no other lights this evening." Rhavaniel told him.

Kili nodded in silent disappointment.

Eager to take Kili's mind off his concerns, she pointed to the cook pot, "I found a great cache of second-bloom berries, and a beehive nearby. I doubled the lembas bread I had with water, and put it in the cook pot with berries and honey to sweeten it. When the honeycomb is melted on top, you know it is done."

She lifted the waxen lid to reveal a sweet-smelling type of bread pudding. "You will have to eat from the pot, but at least I found spoons."

"Thank you," said Kili, "You should take the first bite."

"I am quite stuffed with berries and honey already, thank you. This is what you need, and we still have some lembas bread and pine nuts for your journey. And more honey."

Kili took a grateful first bite.

"This is delicious," Kili complimented her.

Rhavaniel smiled, "You are too kind. I cannot set a proper Elf table, as my elders would be quick to tell you."

"I am not one for false flattery. This is better fare than we were served at Rivendell."

"You've been to Rivendell!" Rhavaniel exclaimed. Kili only nodded with his mouth full.

"Mirkwood Hall is the largest Elf city I have ever seen. Is Rivendell as beautiful as they say?"

After a good meal and a brief chat of the wonders of Rivendell, Kili retreated to a less cluttered portion of the Watchtower to sleep.

Rhavaniel had no need of rest tonight, and thought of what she could do to keep busy until dawn.

Lowering the wick on her oil lamp and tiptoeing to the opposite corner of the watchtower, Rhavaniel set about cutting down a portion of the arrows to suite Kili's shorter bow. She cut the fletched ends, because she had to rework the nocks for a Dwarf bowstring. The bird feathers would be put to good use after all.