Well, it's been quite a while since I last uploaded… I've been very busy. And I've procrastinated. But thank you to everyone who has supported the story!
A Few Notes:
-The word 'Ada' is Elvish, and it means 'father.'
-'Castars' were the main type of currency in Middle-Earth (but I don't know how much they are worth in human money). 'Tharnis' were worth about ¼ of a Castar.
dojoson41: Let's just say Balin won't be very happy… but Thorin can get away with anything! He is, after all, a dwarven prince. And he can be very intimidating.
Chapter Seven:
It was a beautiful morning in Middle-Earth. The sun was shining, the birds were singing… and the screams of a furious dwarf echoed off the walls of Erebor.
"WHAT?" shouted Balin. His white beard looked to be at the point of tying itself up in a knot. "Not one month ago, you were stabbed in the stomach with a poisoned blade! Now you are off on another long journey without a healer?"
"Then I won't get hurt," answered Thorin. "It is simple. I can take care of myself, and I know how to treat a wound."
Balin huffed. "You are not in perfect health!"
"Mirkwood isn't far," muttered Bilbo weakly.
The normally calm dwarf shot him a dark look. "And you-"
"ENOUGH!" roared Thorin. "It is decided!"
To the surprise of Bilbo and Ori, Thorin actually hadn't argued much when Bilbo told him their plan. Maybe he secretly wanted company?
The other dwarrow, except Balin, were angry but understanding. After the initial surprise and outrage, Thorin explained that there could only be a small amount of people to do the deed. Otherwise, the elves and people of Laketown might think of it as an attack. Bilbo didn't exactly agree with Thorin's logic - it might be something more - but he didn't say anything.
They set off at noon, having packed a small amount of supplies. They headed southwest to the wood-elves, who lived at the northern edge of Mirkwood. Bilbo decided Norin was to go with them because they might be able to find her mother. Norin was safely camouflaged and walked a safe distance behind Bilbo. The hobbit checked frequently over his shoulder to make sure she was still there.
They walked for about an hour - the distance was short - and the way was relatively easy. Bilbo entertained Ori with stories of his time at the Shire. The dwarf responded enthusiastically. Thorin only grunted or said nothing at all. "I think he regrets bringing us along," whispered Ori loudly.
Thorin wondered why Bilbo kept dropping chunks of food on the path behind him, but he did not think much of it. "It's for the birds," replied Bilbo quickly when he was questioned, though it was actually for Norin.
At first, the small group had to traverse down a tight path that led to rocky hilltops, but gradually it wore down to rolling fields and green meadows. When a row of trees appeared in sight, Bilbo knew they had reached Mirkwood.
The three of them, plus Norin, remembered to stay on the path. Bilbo also found himself jumping at every little sound - the time before, they had encountered a particularly nasty bunch of spiders. Mirkwood was an ancient forest, and the branches of trees creaked like the joints of old men.
Finally they reached a river, and the river led to a clearing, which spread out to reveal the realm of the wood-elves. Even though it was one of the most beautiful buildings Bilbo had seen, with its high columns made out of gray stone and glass windows the color of sapphires, the hobbit did not have fond memories of it. He recalled barrels, orcs, and drunken elves. It was not something he wanted to go through again.
Thorin stopped Ori and Bilbo with his hand in front of their chests. "The Elvenking Thranduil rules here," he warned. "He hates dwarrow, which comes as no surprise, given our history, and he disregards hobbits. Be respectful or you may soon find yourself in a cell. And let me do the speaking."
They were spotted as soon as they came out into the open. A pair of wood-elves, presumably guards, raised the alarm with horns. They rushed toward Bilbo, Thorin, and Ori, spears pointed.
Thorin raised a hand. "We come in peace. We wish to speak to Thranduil. Privately."
"About what?" said one of the elves, scowling. He and the other guard wore traditional Wood-Elf garb - brown armor over a green cloak. A longbow was slung over one shoulder, a quiver of arrows on the other. They both had fair hair and pale skin, which was normal for Wood-Elves.
"If I told you, then it wouldn't be private, would it?"
The second guard pushed his spear point into Thorin's armored chest, before removing it and pressing it into his back. "Alright, but don't take long. We don't want the halls to reek of dwarf."
Ori looked offended, but trailed after Thorin as the dwarven prince walked into the palace. the pair of guards guided them to a chamber. Inside, a magnificent elf lounged on an intricately carved wooden throne. This was Thranduil, the ruler of the Wood-Elves.
"Well, well, well," said Thranduil, examining his nails. "The 'great dwarven prince.' Back so soon? It seemed like yesterday when you were rotting in my cells. What do you have to offer me?"
"I have come to make an agreement," answered Thorin. "You told me if you did not receive half of the gold, you would attack us and take it for yourself."
"I think I remember saying that," said Thranduil nonchalantly. "What's wrong with the elves having their share of gold?"
"You had no part in this. Smaug was found by thirteen dwarrow and one brave hobbit. We apprehended him and forced him to flee, where he was killed by the Bard of Laketown. We did all of this by ourselves, and you deserve none of the gold. At most, you will get a small share of the gold, to stop a war from being fought."
Strangely, Bilbo felt his heart swelling when he heard Thorin's small speech. But this only served to make Thranduil angry. "You-"
"Ada!" called someone, and another elf sashayed into the throne room. It was Legolas Greenleaf: an elven prince, a master bowman, and a very fabulous man. "The orcs - Bilbo? Thorin? You're here?"
Thranduil looked uncomfortable. "Legolas, stop speaking to the dwarrow. You are my son, a prince of the wood-elves, and you need to stop socializing with-"
"-How have you been?" asked Legolas ecstatically, seemingly not hearing his father. "I heard about your adventures with Smaug the Golden. It would have gone much smoother had I been there!"
"Legolas, ENOUGH!" yelled Thranduil. "I forbid you to speak to them! They are dwarves and hobbits, nasty, greedy, despicable creatures, the lot of them!"
"Oh, I'm sorry Ada," answered Legolas, cupping a hand to his ear. "I can't hear you over the sound of how fabulous I am!" And with that he flipped his blonde hair and walked elegantly out of the great elven room.
Ori and Bilbo looked at each other. Thorin raised his eyebrows, unimpressed. "You elves are very proper folk, I can tell."
Thranduil cleared his throat. "Where was I? Right, the elves deserve more of the gold. Do you not remember the fight our two races had a long time ago? We drove away the dragon that attacked Dale and took the treasure. And that dragon is, coincidentally, the same dragon that was just killed! We deserve our share!"
Thorin stepped closer to the wooden throne, glaring at Thranduil. "50,000 Castars worth of gold."
"Do you really want us to attack you and take it for ourselves?"
I think an army of dwarrow would fight better than an army of elves, though Bilbo, but he kept that to himself. But it is very unlikely that we could find enough dwarrow to help us.
"100,000 Castars," growled Thorin. "No more."
Bilbo could sense the tension in the room. He and Ori paced in their spots while watching the two men barter. A small crowd of wood-elves, including the two guards from before, were watching near the door.
"Fine," answered Thranduil, leaning back in his throne. "I expect it as soon as possible."
Thorin turned around to face Ori and Bilbo. "We should go," he said, not trying to hide the contempt in his voice from facing an arrogant elven king.
