Finally on the verge of sleep again, after too long staring watery-eyed into the sputtering flames of her hearth, Sigrid woke with a jolt to the sound of clanging outside.
It sounded like ugly music – discordant, surging music– but then she realised what she was hearing and sat up in wonder.
It was the sound of a bell ringing. And though she'd never heard it before, she knew it could only be the rusty old iron bell from the crumbling Dale watch tower – someone was ringing it for the first time in decades, sounding an alarm for the whole town to hear. The dull leaden chime came plunging from the top of the tower turret, near the Erebor gates, and echoed eerily all around the broken, huddled streets like a woken phantom.
What's going on now? Who's ringing the bell?
Confused, she rose to her feet and checked the window by the door, and felt panic flare once more in her heart. There were people running in the streets outside. Old people, young people, children – all of her Laketown people. They all seemed to be charging up the hill towards Erebor.
Instinctively she looked to the skies, expecting to see the leathery wings and glowing eyes that had hunted her in the streets and haunted her dreams two night ago. But the sky was black and full of rain, without a spark of light.
The dragon is gone, she told herself. We killed it. It's lying dead at the bottom of the freezing lake with a black arrow through its heart!
Stumbling around blindly in the dim light for her clothes chest, she retrieved her thick winter cloak and shoes and stepped through the door onto the dark cobbled streets. And within seconds she was freezing – the wind was blowing as hard as ever – and the rain tore down in big waves from the open, swollen sky.
"Excuse me?" She called out to an older couple, hurrying arm-in-arm up the hill with pale, harried faces. "What's going on? Where is everyone going?"
The grey-haired woman turned to her, a look of worry etched onto her papery skin. "They've sounded the alarm, young Sigrid – those dwarves up in their mountain have sent for us! There's danger on the lake, they say. They've opened up their gates for us in refuge. You should come with us, now!"
Sigrid was confused. "What danger? What's wrong?"
But already the old couple were moving on. "There's no time to lose, Sigrid! Get your family and run to the gates!"
Get my family? But, where are they?
Mindful now of her brother and sister, Sigrid herself started running against the stream of people. Trying to avoid slipping on the wet cobbles, she raced as hard as she could for her Aunt Amma's place. It lay all the way down the hill, by the charred pier that had once led to their real homes.
She reached it after just a few minutes – and couldn't help but notice how the crowd thinned the further away she got from Erebor – but the door to the old boathouse was hanging ajar, and inside lay dark and silent.
"They left a good twenty minutes ago, young lady." She spun round, startled by the voice behind her, and saw an old man sitting on the street across the road. She recognised him as one of the old fisherman who'd stumble around drunk by the harbour – and she stared at him, wondering what he was doing all alone in the doorway opposite. It was no place to shelter from this storm.
The old man produced a small green bottle from inside his cloak, and took a thick swig, seemingly oblivious to the freezing rain and water sloshing around the gutters where he sat.
"Your auntie took them both up to Erebor. They left just after the man came round on horseback. The one crying on about going to Erebor."
Sigrid wondered whether the man was drunk, or whether it was her fault that she couldn't understand him. "What man? When was this?"
The fisherman took another slug of his bottle. "He came riding down from Erebor, shouting to all the town to get inside the gates. Said there were bad things out on the lake, and that we should run and hide behind their big stone walls." He looked at her with his blurry green eyes, and smiled. "But I don't want to hide no more, pretty Miss. Tell your father I'm staying here. I'll be alright with my old Sally."
Sigrid looked around, searching for a companion. "With Sally?"
The old man produced his bottle, and toasted it high in the air at her with a wild-eyed laugh of hilarity. "Sally says have a wonderful time hiding in Erebor, young lady! But I'm staying here. I'm not getting locked in a mountain with a bunch of dwarves, no chance."
"But why do they want us to hide? What bad things?" She thought of Fili and her father, out alone on the lake heading for Mirkwood, and felt afraid.
"Beats me, young Miss. All I know is when you've locked them outside, you've locked them inside with you." He grinned up at her with his missing teeth, leering up like an ancient corpse collapsed in the doorway.
Sigrid turned to the lake, scanning it for signs of trouble. But it was hard to keep her eyes open with the weight of the gale pressed against her face, and she could make out nothing except blackness out over the water. She turned to the man, offering him her hand.
"Come with me to Erebor, it's not safe for you down here on your own. It's freezing cold out here!"
But the fisherman shook his head at her in disdain. "I'm staying here. Right where I am. I have my Sally to look after me, and that's all I need." He looked at her, a sad look in his fuzzy eyes. "You're young, and you're pretty, and you should go and be safe, young Miss. Go and find someplace safe." His eyes faded as he lost interest in her, and he reached for his bottle once more.
"Are you sure you won't come? At least go and wait in one of the houses where it's dry – you could get a fire going!"
But the old man wasn't listening. "Run along, Miss, run along now. Don't get locked in with them, no, no, no."
I need to find Tilda and Bain! They'll be worried. I can't force this man to come with me!
Reluctant to leave the crazy old man on his own in the gutter, Sigrid took her cloak off, and draped it around his shoulders.
"Here, take this. Please go and wait inside one of the houses. I'll send someone to get you once I find out what's going on and we'll light you a fire to dry off in."
The old man gazed up at her and gave her a lopsided smile. "You're a kind one as well." He smiled knowingly. "But it won't save you. You should be running along now, Sigrid."
Feeling cold and uneasy, Sigrid turned her back and ran all the way up the hill towards Erebor. She needed to warm herself up – without her cloak, she had nothing on except her loose white nightgown – but at the back of her mind she felt a growing wish to get away from the lake, and the crazy old fisherman, and his glassy-eyed, foggy gaze.
As she reached the summit of the hill, her lungs burning, she took another look across the lake. From her new vantage point on high, she thought she could see something out over the water. There was something bright on the far shoreline – something visible that shone through the mists.
There is something out there! But what is it? What about my friends? Are they safe?
Sigrid staggered up the last of the hill towards the Erebor gates, and saw that they were still open. On a gust of wind she stepped under the grille and through to the large sentry chamber on the inside, passing the guard at the gates and giving him a nod. It was Fergis, one of the young men from her old street in Laketown.
"We were about to close the gate, Sigrid! Why are you so late?"
She opened her mouth to speak, concerned for her family. "Where are Tilda and Bain, have you seen them?"
Fergis shrugged. "Everyone has gone down to the lower levels – there's a big hall where everyone is to stay for tonight, once the gates are locked."
"Why are we locking the gates, Fergis? What's going on?"
He looked at her, and she saw the pallor under his youthful bravado. "There's an army of orcs out there, Sigrid, so they say. Bolli has given orders – "
But Sigrid was appalled. "Bolli has given order? Who is he to give orders around here? Where are Thorin, and Kili?"
Fergis swallowed. "They're still not back yet. They went out to search for the queen-to-be, and the elf Tauriel, but none of Thorin's party has returned." His voice was low, and worried. "There's no sign of your father either, Sigrid. Nobody knows where he's gone. And Thorin's heir is missing too. so Bolli has command of the gate, and he explicitly told me – "
The young man trailed off, hearing the shuffling sound of footsteps from the passageway inside.
"I told you to close the gate now, boy! What are you waiting for?"
Sigrid turned round, trying to mask the scowl she felt cracking her face already. She recognised that voice. "You can't close it yet, Fergis – there's an old man by the lake, someone needs to go and get him."
As smug and pompous as ever, the dwarf Bolli came swaggering down the corridor towards them both, a torch in his hand. Studiously ignoring her protestations, Fergis got to work straight away, setting the mechanism into gear, and Sigrid felt a tremor running through the earth as the trellis doors wound their way shut against the night outside.
"Lady Sigrid, so you decided to join us after all. And where is your father, might I ask?"
She thought for a moment, wondering what to say that wouldn't raise any further alarm. "He's gone fishing." She said curtly. "He's not gone far, but he said he might stay out a couple of days. The trout love the rain."
She hoped it didn't sound ridiculous.
But the dwarf seemed pleased with the news. He licked his lips and nodded to himself, as if deciding on some matter.
"Then you must come with me, Sigrid. The king has left me in charge of Erebor until his return, and I intend to keep everyone safe."
She nodded her agreement, and he beckoned her further down the passage. "I heard everyone is to stay in the great hall downstairs? Is that wise, my lord? To have everyone cooped up in the one place? Surely – "
"Surely it is not a woman's place to correct her husband's decision?"
Sigrid stared at him coldly in the corridor, feeling a flush of anger. "You are not my husband, Bolli."
But the dwarf leered back at her. "We're not officially wed yet, it's true – but you are officially paid for. And that makes you mine, whether you agree to it or not." He smiled smugly. "A deal is a contract, Sigrid. And in my people's law, an offer of marriage is binding if accepted."
She glared back at him. "But I haven't accepted."
He glanced at her blandly. "It makes no difference. It's the head of kin whose consent is required, not the marriage partners. Why do you think young Fili agreed so readily to his marriage with Eyrun?" He chuckled nastily. "She's hardly renowned for her wit or beauty."
Sigrid felt her fingernails digging hard into her palms as she clenched her fists, but she kept her mouth shut. She was not going to give anything away to him.
They came to a small doorway, and Bolli stopped and took a key from his pocket.
"Is this the way to the hallway, Bolli? I wish to see my brother and sister."
He opened the door and waved her inside, following right behind her. "Your family are safe – I made special arrangements for them to have their own room below the hall. Seen as how they're soon to be my family and all." He closed the door behind them, but Sigrid couldn't see much of the room in his torchlight – there were no candles lit within here.
"Where are we, Bolli? Is this the way to the great hall?"
But he ignored her again. "You know, Sigrid, I don't know why you hate me so much. You are a beautiful woman. I will look after you and your family like a husband should. My family in the Iron Hills are rich, and you need never worry about any of this silly governing nonsense that your father has you dabbling in. I will allow you the freedom to be a woman, and keep you safe in the Iron Hills where you will raise our children and run my household."
Sigrid was rapidly losing her patience with the ugly dwarf. "Listen to me, Bolli. I do not consent to being your wife, and never shall do. My father will not allow it without my consent. Save your speeches and just take me to my family."
Beside her, she heard him sigh. "Very well, Sigrid. Then we shall do this the hard way. Let me explain. You are the heir of Laketown, and the kingdom has been purchased by my family through the deal we have just made. But in order to seal this deal, you must become my wife. And so I must take you as my wife, one way or another."
He reached his clammy hand out to her in the darkness, and she felt it trail around her waist and over her hips. "You will spend tonight with me, Sigrid, as my wife – and I will take you as is a husband's right. You will submit to me every night, until you are sure to bear me my heir, and then you shall be sent to the Iron Hills where you will live out the rest of your days. As my wife. While I stay here in Laketown. As it's heir assumptive."
She saw his ugly face come closer to her in the darkness, and she flinched. "And what if I refuse?" she hissed.
Bolli smiled at her. "Look over there, Sigrid." He held his torch aloft, and she turned to look over her shoulder, puzzled. "Over there in the corner," he added.
She took a few steps forward into the room, but she still could not see anything, and then her leg hit against something hard and heavy. As she bent down to rub her foot, she realised Bolli had opened the door again, and was stepping out into the corridor.
"Wait, what are you doing?"
She heard him jingle his key in the lock, and too late realised her mistake.
"I will come for you later, Sigrid, when I have finished my duties for the night."
She heard him stride away, back down the corridor, and she frantically tried the door, checking to see whether it would open. But there was no luck. She was locked in the darkened room.
Stepping gingerly back to the hard, heavy object, she reached forward to try and feel what it was, but her hands met something soft. And suddenly, with a growing sickness in her breast, she knew what it was.
It was a bed. Bolli had locked her in the guard's chambers, and was going to come for her later. To try and lay his claim to her father's kingdom by forcing her against her will.
We'll see about that, creep.
Shaking her head in revulsion, she sat in the darkness and waited for her eyes to adjust to the all-pervading gloom. There must be some way she could get out of here...
With another chilling gust of the stormy air deafening his ears, Kili turned back to face the rest of his group, willing them to move faster. They had been keeping a brisk pace ever since they parted ways with Dwalin and the main host, but he couldn't stop the aching feeling in his heart that it was still not fast enough. What if they got there too late to save her? What if she was in pain right now? It was all Kili could do not to give into temptation to run as fast as he could to Ravenhill – through all the gullies and bogs and sinkholes, over all the rocks and streams – and scream her name at the top of his lungs until he was satisfied she knew he was coming for her.
If she's still alive, a macabre voice whispered in his thoughts. He pushed it angrily away to the side, fearful of tempting the gods by thinking such evil thoughts.
"We're nearly there, Kili!" He heard his uncle shout to him as the gale slackened. "Stay close to us – don't go running off until we know what we're dealing with." Taking longer strides to ensure he caught up with his nephew, Thorin clapped an arm around the young dwarf's shoulders. You're not going to help her if you get yourself ripped to pieces by an orc pack!"
Kili gritted his teeth and bit his tongue, trying to evaluate how much time would be lost to the rapidly steepening gradient of the shoreline before them. Seeing his gaze, Thorin nodded.
"The tower is just around the bend. Come – let's find them!"
The little group huddled together to take the final climb, falling on each other's steps in turn as those in the lead battled through the brambles and hidden dips to reach the colder air at the top of the hill. And finally, they reached the black summit and cleared the bend, catching sight of the Ravenhill tower lying half a mile away.
Kili looked up and gave a small cry.
There was light shining from every window, with flickering shadows that pulsed all around the holes in the masonry and cast jagged shapes around the foot of the high tower. It was no surprise the place was visible from far away – there must be a whole army sheltering inside.
But Kili noticed something else, something hanging from the one of the top floor windows on the lake-side face – something orange and green that flapped in the wind...
Kili pointed to the tower, his whole body growing cold inside with dread.
"It's Tauriel, they have her!"
He tried to make out whether she was hurt, but he couldn't see from the distance. Someone had strung her up by the wrists and gagged her, hanging her out of the top-floor window at the end of a metal pole. Her eyes looked closed, and she wasn't moving much – but that was hardly surprising in the circumstances.
He prayed she was unharmed.
She must be freezing up there, I have to get her down now!
Kili felt an arm around his shoulder, and turned round in a blind panic. But instead of his uncle, he saw the wizard Gandalf eyeing him in consternation.
"Be careful, Kili. This looks like a trap. Let's put our heads together and think about how to go solving this."
The young dwarf looked back dully at the wizard's keen grey eyes. He understood the words, but they meant nothing to him.
His uncle took a step towards him. "She's alive, Kili, let's think about this and make sure she stays that way."
Kili nodded dimly, and looked back towards the tower. It wasn't even half a mile away, not really. More like a quarter... a minute's run, if that, and downhill all the way.
He took another glance up at the elf, swinging by her hands in the wind, and his instinct took over.
Kili set off at full throttle, charging blindly towards the tower, and the calls of his friends behind him were lost in the howl of the wind.
On the swaying boat, Fili fought back another urge to be sick.
This was only the second time he'd ventured onto the lake with Bard at the helm, but it was shaping up to be an even worse experience than the first. The waves were taller than he was. They were probably taller than Bard was.
He'd heard stories about rough seas before, but he'd never lived close enough to water to appreciate its raw, terrifying power. And he was trying even harder to not see it now – as if lying on the floor in the middle of the boat was going to help the ceaseless churning he felt in his stomach.
"Fili, get over here!"
Another wave came crashing over the side of the boat, drenching the dwarf in freezing black water, and he gasped in shock. He tried to get to his feet to find Bard, but the boat was listing crazily to one side all of a sudden, and he lost his footing and slid head-first into the wooden bulwark.
"Watch your step, Fili – we're approaching the delta now!"
Fili spat out another mouthful of lake spray, and tasted blood on his lip. Wasn't Bard supposed to be an amazing sailor? Couldn't he find a smoother place to cross the river channel than here?
"Bard," he called, trying to summon more power in his lungs to make himself heard above the wind and rain, "this is crazy! We need to get off this lake and get to the shore!"
"I know that!" Fili watched as the boatman paused to grip onto the wheel as the boat crested another wave and dropped sharply. "There's nothing I can do right now – the sail is down but the wind is taking us straight onto the river!"
Fili heard the fear in the man's voice, and forgot his sickness at once.
Bard beckoned him closer, and Fili stepped carefully, one pace at a time, towards the dark-haired man clutching at the wheel.
"What can we do, Bard? Surely we don't want to get caught in the delta?"
Bard shook his head gravely. "No. We don't. We need to use the oars, Fili, and try and steer ourselves to shore. We need to get clear of this wind channel."
The man groped around with one hand by the bulwark at the bow, and produced a pair of oars. They were short and fragile looking things, and Fili eyed them dubiously, wondering whether something so short could turn the boat's direction against the raging storm current.
And he never did find out.
Below his feet, the boat gave a long groan, and Fili felt a hideous shudder shake through the vessel as it reached the base of another trough, and scuffed off something on the bottom of the lake.
He met Bard's eyes in horror, as the two of them were caught off balance by the sickening sound. And when the boat reared up again as the flood took hold, he was thrown clear off his feet and into the churning black lake.
"Bard!" He tried calling out, but his mouth was full of water, so he tried to breathe instead. The waves kept pelting him, each one of them forcing his head under the waterline, as the current dragged him on with a frightening speed.
He couldn't see the boat anymore. He couldn't see Bard, or hear him either. He had no idea where he was going, or even which way was up. The water was spinning him around, and he couldn't breathe properly in the frothy, foamy, choking spray, no matter how hard he tried.
Everything was black around him, and Fili felt a burning pain in his lungs, and tried to fight the urge to inhale the smothering, black lake, but it held onto his chest, growing in pressure until he couldn't stand it anymore.
He took a breath – just one – but it brought no release from the pain. And as the suffocating cold water poured into his lungs, he felt himself panic and take bigger gulps, trying in vain to find some air in the water, until nothing remained but the pain spreading across his chest, eclipsing everything else, and the world went darker than the wild night above.
And by the time the strong, cold arms lifted him out of the water by the shore and shone their lamps on his face, Fili's eyes were open wide, but the darkness remained.
Sigrid stiffened as she heard the footsteps approaching the door, ready to spring.
She'd been waiting under the bed for some time – she'd come to realise she had no idea how to unpick a lock like those they had in Erebor – and had given up in disgust and been forced to find a less sophisticated approach to getting out of her cell.
Wait for him to come all the way inside, then go...
She'd arranged all the blankets on the bed to look like she was sleeping by the headrest, but was in fact lying underneath the side nearest the door. And when she saw the little dwarf's feet trotting past her – she was going to make for that door. And run as fast as she could to find some of her own people.
She heard the key jangling in the lock, and held her breath.
By the glow of a lamplight, she saw the bottom of the door swing open, and two small, leather booted feet strode in through the doorframe, making straight for the decoy just as she'd planned. Bolli really was an idiot.
Trying to be as soundless as possible, she rolled herself out from under the far side of the bed, and rose to her feet as smoothly as she could. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bolli had clocked her, but she tore straight for the door, and slammed it hard with all her strength behind her, cursing it for having no latch on the outside that she could use to lock the cursed creature inside himself.
"Sigrid, come back here!" She heard him just behind the door frame, and decided to improvise as best she could. With as much force as she could summon, she hurled the door back into the room, and heard a groan of pain as the doorframe connected with Bolli's head on the inside.
Wishing she had time to stop and gloat, she ran hard down the corridor, back towards the sentry room. Seeing Fergis still on duty at the gate, she waved excitedly at him, earning a confused grimace from the young man.
"Fergis, help me! Let me out! I need to go back to Dale!"
But the young man shook his head, eyeing her uncomfortably as if he thought she was a madwoman. "Sigrid, we're not allowed outside, it's dangerous. I can't open the gates unless Bolli says – "
"– Fergis, forget what Bolli says and listen to what I say! My father is the King of Laketown, and I need to get out of this place right now!"
She glared at him, wondering why he was being so singularly unhelpful, but the sounds of footsteps reached her ears from the corridor behind her, and she realised she had no time to argue with him.
Shaking her head bitterly at the young sentry, she started down the dark corridor ahead of her, hoping it wouldn't lead straight to a dead-end.
"Fergis, you're going to regret being such a tool!"
And on she ran, turning another corner just beyond sight of the sentry-room, and seeing that this corridor led to a narrow, spiral staircase. This looked more promising.
Behind her, there came shouting.
"Where did she go?"
"Who, my lord?"
"You know who I'm talking about, boy! Where did Sigrid go? Are you – "
And then Sigrid heard something else. A metallic, knocking sound, ringing through the sentry room and all the way up her staircase, sending a shiver through her as she held her breath in the drafty corridor.
Someone was knocking at the gate.
She heard Bolli and Fergis quieten, listening to the noise, and she herself stopped her flight.
Who is this? Who's coming now?
And Sigrid felt her heart swell in sudden hope.
Maybe it's Thorin and Kili – they must have found Tauriel by now. Or maybe it's my father and Fili, and they've decided to not go to Mirkwood after all...
Smiling to herself, she almost ran down the stairs, but something held her back. She wanted to keep her distance from that ugly dwarf, just in case it should not be one of her friends at the door.
So she sat down instead on one of the cold, stone steps, and heard Bolli's voice summoning all the authority he could muster.
"Who is there? Who is at the gate?"
And at first there was no reply, only the wind blowing outside and swirling around the sturdy, stone walls of the mountain stronghold. Sigrid felt her ears straining to hear, wondering if the wind was drowning out some faint sounds beyond her hearing.
But then she heard it. A woman's voice, from beyond the gate.
"It's me, it's Rose, let me in – please!"
"Rose, it's you? Where is Thorin?"
"How should I know? Just let me in, I'm so cold!"
Sigrid shivered as she heard the gate mechanism grinding into motion, and hesitated on the threshold of the staircase. Maybe Rose would know what had happened to Tauriel, and would give her some good news... but then again Sigrid wasn't so sure she could count on the woman as her ally. She had so far seemed to be nothing but entirely self-centred, and Sigrid had no real wish to speak to her, or to go down and let Bolli lock her back in that cell again.
She had trouble believing that Rose would help her out of her predicament.
Still curious though, she took a few steps closer to the sentry room, and watched as the gate opened bit by bit.
Rose was standing there on the far side, her dress flapping all around her in the gale like a red flag, but her face remained covered by her dark wavy hair, blown forward on the wind. She looked like some dark, faceless goddess, and Sigrid wondered where she'd been all day.
Bolli was reaching out to her to help her inside, and Sigrid rolled her eyes in scorn. He hadn't been acting in such gentlemanly way towards her, and she was his contractually-ordained bride.
She turned her back on the scene, and continued to climb the stairs, breaking into a run as she sought to find somewhere dark and safe in which to hide away until someone she could trust came back...
Oblivious to the rain, and the wind, and the rough, steep drop of the land beneath his feet, Kili ran on, sprinting towards the tower, his sword drawn in his hand, braced and ready for the first opponent he saw to feel the bite of his sword across their neck.
"Kili, stop! Come back!"
He could hear his friends and comrades behind him, trying to call for him – until they gave up and he fancied he could hear them running on behind him. But he didn't turn back. He kept his eyes on the tower, waiting for the hail of arrows to come raining down, or for the first troop of orcs to charge at him from the Ravenhill tower...
But still nothing came. And he ran on freely, closing the distance between the hilltop and the tower door in less than a minute.
As he reached the doorway, panting heavily, he briefly stopped and wondered just what he was doing. Was he really going to invade the tower and take on an entire camp of orcs all alone...
"There's nobody there!"
Behind him, he heard Thorin calling in astonishment. Kili took another look around, and realised he could hear nothing. There was no sound at all, save the shrieking, screaming wind whooshing round the tower.
There was nothing coming from inside its walls – no signs of life.
Urged on, he leaped through the doorway and mounted the stairway, taking the stairs two at a time in his haste to get to her at the top of the tower.
And still there was nothing: no orcs, no orc prisoners, no signs of any living creatures at all. Just candles, strewn around the windows and ledges by the steps, lighting the way for him as he climbed and climbed the big spiral staircase leading him round and round.
And when the staircase finally ended, he tore across the tower and ran to the lakeside face, calling her name as he bounded forward.
"Tauriel, I'm here! I'll get you down!"
He came to the window, and saw she was tied to the end of a broken iron flag-pole – one that had been propped up to lie out the window from inside the tower chamber. Carefully, so as not to disturb the balance on the pole, he began dragging it further inside the tower, pulling her back from the dark, stormy air to the safety of the building.
He could see her move now, and he knew she was okay, he knew she was going to be okay, as long as he could just get her inside...
He heard footsteps on the stairs, back the way he'd just come, and turned in alarm, expecting his luck to have run out.
But in the doorway, Thorin, Bilbo and Bofur all appeared at once and joined him wordlessly, helping him to pull the long pole all the way back inside.
"Tauriel, can you hear me?" Kili's voice was hoarse with worry.
And the elf must have heard him, for she turned her head towards the sound, and nodded vigorously. With a cry of dismay, Kili could see she'd been blindfolded along with the black gag wrapped around her mouth and throat.
"You're nearly there, amralime – you'll be back on your feet in a moment!"
And as soon as the elf was within reach, the young dwarf leant out of the top floor window and bundled his elven lover back inside, clutching at her body for signs of life and warmth.
"Tauriel," he tried to soothe her, feeling her shake all over, and reached for his sword once more, deftly cutting through the blindfold first, making sure she was still conscious.
He gently unwrapped the filthy white cloth from her face, and smiled gratefully as he saw her green eyes staring back at him.
"Thank Mahal," he whispered softly, and took his sword to her hands, cutting the rope that bound her wrists to the pole, wincing as he saw how bruised and sore her hands and wrists were after her ordeal.
"I will kill them all for doing this to you, my love, I swear." Kili whispered to her, but she raised her hands to her face in response, struggling to reach the gag. He raised the sword again gently, and slowly cut through the thick black rag by her neck, making sure not to catch any of her skin in the process.
"Kili!" Her voice was a croak, wheezing and rough, but urgent. "Kili, you need to get out of here! All of you! You need to get back to Erebor. This whole thing is a trap – they've all gone to Erebor!"
The elf leant back into Kili's arms, exhausted, and he held her tightly, feeling her body trembling from the cold. Numbly, he turned back to Thorin.
The dwarf king was staring at the elf, ashen faced.
"Tell me Tauriel," Thorin spoke low and angry, approaching the elf as she lay on the floor in his nephew's arms. "Where is Rose? What have they done with her?"
But the elf stared back at him sadly, and shook her head. She looked around the room, meeting the stares of all those assembled around her in the candle-lit chamber.
"My lord, Rose is fine. It was her that did this." The elf's green eyes widened in dismay as she spoke, and her voice was a whisper of horror. "She's taking them to Erebor!"
