"The elf maid, Tauriel, is being banished in a week and a half. She is still ill, and may still be ill when she must leave. And you are the one to remove her from the kingdom." Thorin gazed steadily at the blonde haired elven prince sitting in his private hall. "You are here to ask me to take her in. Do I have that right?"
"Yes, in substance." The elven prince's voice was flat and tired.
"She is to be taken to the eastern entrance to Mirkwood, with whatever possessions she can manage, and be banished from the kingdom forever." He read the words again out loud. "Regardless of her condition," Thorin said scornfully. "That is hard to imagine. Even dwarves are not so cruel. Why does he not just have her killed and be done with it?"
"Uncle! How can you say that?" Fili gasped in outrage.
Thorin looked at his nephew. There was still such innocence and truth and honor in that face. Part of him hated to bring Fili into politics, to see his youth slowly degraded by manipulation and falseness. If the boy was going to help his brother, and run a kingdom, he had to be exposed to this kind of brutal reality.
"As Balin said to me earlier, Fili, this is no banishment decree, it is a death sentence."
He let the words hang in the air. Kicking an injured person out of her home, unable to defend herself, was just that. As a boy, he had seen his grandfather banish two dwarves for a violent attack on another. No one had ever been banished for disobeying any orders. Reassigned in position, demoted, perhaps, but no one was ever left to the elements when ill. What Thranduil was doing was truly disgraceful.
"What is her condition at this time?" Gandalf asked Legolas. "I would think she would have completely recovered weeks ago."
"No, Mithrandir." The elven prince sounded sad and weary. "She no longer has any immortality. It is completely gone. Her healing is greatly slowed."
"What?" Thorin whispered. "Gandalf, you said she shared her grace with Kili. You didn't say she gave it all to him!"
"I cannot tell that which I do not know, Thorin Oakenshield," Gandalf said sharply. The wizard gripped Legolas's shoulder. "Are you sure her grace is all gone?"
Legolas nodded. "My father did a chant over her to show me. He said her body should glow when he was done, but it did not."
"Ah, I know that chant. I have learned some of elvish healing from Lord Elrond over the years." Gandalf paused. "Would you mind . . . in this company?"
Legolas nodded. "Anything to help Tauriel," he replied. Stunned, Thorin watched in silence as Gandalf closed his eyes and held the palm of one hand facing the elf prince. He chanted in an Elvish tongue Thorin had never heard before. Slowly the light in the room began to dim, overpowered by the growing glow coming from Legolas. By the time Gandalf had stopped, Thorin had to close his eyes to shield them from the bright light.
The room was silent. Thorin opened his eyes and looked about, saw the shock and understanding on the faces of Balin and Fili. No dwarf he knew had ever seen anything like that before.
Thorin felt uneasy. He wasn't comfortable bringing an elf into Erebor right now, even to stay for a few weeks. The dwarves were still very suspicious of the Mirkwood elves, though they had fought together. It would take many, many years to build up any kind of trust.
He especially did not want an elf here that Kili was in love with. It would be impossible to hide for long. People would find out. And then what? Discord, at best? Plots, coups? The kingdom was still unsettled.
But he could not deny he was deeply indebted to the elf maid Tauriel. She'd saved Kili more than once, and helped Fili and others in Laketown. Without her making that decision to disobey her king's orders, they would be dead. And so would he and Dis, of heartbreak. Now he knew what she was losing because she chose to help them. Her friends. Her homeland. Her immortality. Maybe even her health.
"Does she even know or understand what is happening?" he heard Balin ask Legolas kindly.
"I don't know. A herald read the terms to her yesterday, but her mind . . . " The elven prince's voice trailed off weakly.
"I don't understand why you are tasked with removing her from the kingdom. It does not seem a role for a prince." Fili asked slowly.
Thorin started. He had not considered this particular element. He saw the face of the prince turn a faint shade of grey. "It is my punishment," Legolas said dully.
"For what?" Gandalf spoke up.
"I love her, have loved her for many years. My father always disapproved."
Thorin stared at the elven prince. He thought suddenly of his sister, leading the caravans from Ered Luin to Erebor. He'd stepped in to help her raise Fili and Kili when their father had died. Thorin was hard on them, but he loved his nephews deeply. He had hated to punish them, when they were small or much older. Always he had made sure they knew what they had done wrong, why it was wrong, and that he loved them and wanted what was best for them.
Legolas was like his nephews. From a royal family, heirs in line to a throne. Subject to the king's wishes. He was someone's son. Could a father love his son and torture him at the same time? For that was what Thranduil was doing to his son, putting him in a terrible situation.
"Prince Legolas, I would like to speak to my counselors in private." Thorin walked to a table and rang a bell. A maid entered the room and curtseyed. "Please see Prince Legolas of the Mirkwood realm to one of the private royal chambers, and make sure he is comfortable. He is a royal guest and should be treated with all honor." Thorin nodded to the elf, who slowly rose and followed the maid out of the room.
Fili felt nervous as he watched the elven prince leave the room. His uncle seemed calm. Too calm. He'd even sounded kind as he'd offered the elven prince the royal hospitality of Erebor.
Things were not progressing as he expected. There was no screaming, no throwing of goblets, no stubborn, misplaced pride. He was worried something awful was about to happen. "What are you planning, Uncle?" Fili asked tentatively.
"I am considering the consequences of offering shelter to the elf maid, as you should be," his uncle replied, looking at him closely. Fili flushed a little. "I would hear your thoughts on the matter."
"Of course we must take her in!" he exclaimed passionately. "I would do anything for my brother, and so would you, Uncle!"
He did not like the look Thorin was giving him. "You are not thinking like a king, Fili. Decisions are not just about us anymore."
Fili started, and fell silent. Was his uncle saying he would not help? He looked toward Balin for support, but the old dwarven counselor inclined his head as if to make the same comment.
He swallowed, trying to calm himself enough to think. Fili realized he could not make Kili the focal point of the decision. "Six people are alive today, who would be dead weeks ago in Laketown without Tauriel's help. Five of them are the heirs of the rulers of Erebor and Dale," he began slowly, looking at Thorin for encouragement.
"Six may be a low number, but go on," his uncle said.
"She interceded with her prince and her king to get them to come and help the people of Laketown. And to fight with us. Erebor might never have been retaken otherwise. We might all be dead now without her. Our people should be proud to assist such a valiant fighter who helped so many others outside her kingdom."
For a long moment no one spoke. Fili glanced tentatively at Balin, who had a faint smile on his face. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gandalf nodding. His uncle kept a steady gaze on him, his expression not changing.
"Well done, lad. I agree with you," Balin said finally. "Erebor owes Tauriel a debt that can never be repaid. We must do what we can for her."
"I want you in charge of this affair, Fili. Finding a room, healers, figuring out how the elf maid will get here. All of it," Thorin said briskly. "Write to King Bard, he may want to offer assistance as well, he is also in her debt."
Fili just stared at his uncle. Had he heard correctly? Did he really just say Tauriel could come to Erebor?
"It is a terrible thing, what Thranduil is doing. He is really banishing her for loving a dwarf. And then to put his own son in the position of coming to his foe to ask for help," his uncle muttered, shaking his head. "That is no way to rule."
Gandalf's laugh filled the room. "Well, Thorin, I am glad to see that sense and reason, even compassion, has returned to you since your wine and bread throwing exhibition," he replied blandly. "I'm sure Prince Legolas will be relieved to hear of this decision."
Fili stood, still feeling uncertain. "Are you sure, Uncle?"
Thorin frowned at him. "What is wrong with you, Fili? Yes, I am sure. For now we will take her in and help heal her. The situation with Kili is a separate matter."
Nodding, Fili walked to the door. "I will let the prince know, and start making arrangements." And, he thought to himself as he left the room, a private talk with Balin about his uncle would be one of his first tasks.
Author's note: Yes, Thorin may seem more mean this time around. I'm playing the gold sickness something like a mood disorder that makes him swing one way and then the other, every so often. And there will be at least one more tantrum in this story.