Oh Dear! It's been over a year since I wrote this chapter, and I would have posted it then if only FFNet hadn't decided not to work for me, and I'm sad to say I lost heart completely. This chapter was posted on AO1, but try as I might I couldn't get it on this platform.
Well, FFNet has finally let me post, and so, a year late, here is chapter 9. I hope you enjoy it, and hopefully I'll not leave you waiting much longer for the next update.
Thanks for sticking with me ;)
Striding towards the entrance to the mountain Thorin caught sight of Dwalin, and with a quiet word to Balin he crossed quickly to pull the warrior aside for a hushed conversation. Around them dwarves went about their business oblivious to Dwalin's gesticulating as he emphasised his side of the discussion, or the absorbed concentration on the face of the newly restored King under the Mountain. Moreover, not one of them thought anything of it when said King hailed his Company scribe and after a brief moment of instruction sent him scurrying off into the mountain.
Satisfied with his arrangements Thorin finally joined Balin, Thranduil and Legolas in the now vacant Company tent. With a curt nod he indicated that his guests should sit, and smirked a little at the elf king's grimace when he realised that the only 'chairs' available were upturned logs that hadn't yet been chopped up for firewood.
xXx
Pulling the blankets up and around the sleeping hobbit's shoulders, Tauriel retook her seat beside the fire.
"He sleeps a lot." Kili observed from his chair on the opposite side of the hearth. "I suppose that's normal…"
"Well certainly, the herbs that I give him encourage rest, and sleep helps the healing process." The elf smiled at him and glanced up through her lashes. "And they are far better for his wellbeing than Oin's poppy juice."
"I heard Dwalin say that stuff is dangerous."
"And he's right. Too much and at best the body will crave it constantly – at worst it can kill." Tauriel shrugged. "It has its uses, and I have a small quantity to hand in case his pain increases beyond bearing, but I'm hoping that with the herbs I have used he will be comfortable."
"Bilbo is very lucky to have you looking after him." Kili's brown eyes darkened as he took in the light blush that tinged the other's cheeks. "Would that I were that lucky…"
Tauriel's eyebrows rose in disbelief.
"And who has been making sure you don't damage your arm further by trying to do too much?"
"My uncle, by assigning me babysitting duties."
"You wish to be somewhere else? Do you no longer wish for my company?" there was a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Should I maybe ask your brother to keep me company?"
"Don't you dare!" Kili laughed "I'll never get you back once he sees how…." He broke off, glancing furtively towards the bed as if Bilbo was about to spring up and run to Thorin with tales. With a blush heating his cheeks he turned the subject.
"Tell me about the Caves of Menegroth."
"Your uncle believes them sunk beneath the Western Sea…"
"And are they?" Kili leaned forward, intent, his elbows resting on his knees as he looked into Tauriel's shining eyes.
"It is very likely – they were at the heart of Beleriand, and when it was destroyed during the War of Wrath the caves were flooded. They were wonderous, richly decorated with wood and stone carvings, and paintings the like of which we no longer see. The Sindar mourned the loss of their heartland as much as the loss of souls. All children of the Firstborn are told the stories as a history of our people, and as a warning against letting the powers of evil run unchecked."
"So that is why you fought the spiders so fiercely?"
"In our histories we learn that they are servants of Melkor, they have no good in their hearts…" Tauriel's words were interrupted by a light tapping on the door, the only warning they received before Ori poked his head into the room.
"May I come in?" his voice was little more than a whisper as he glanced towards the sleeping hobbit.
"Certainly Master Ori" Tauriel smiled at the scowl on Kili's face. At times like this he looked more than ever like his uncle. "What can we do for you?"
Closing the door behind him the young scribe came to stand beside them.
"Thorin sent me with a message for you."
He looked, much to their surprise, directly at Tauriel. Kili tensed, waiting for bad news, but the she-elf sat calm and perfectly still. Ori seemed not to notice as he continued with his errand.
"Apparently King Thranduil is outside the mountain. Thorin was on his way to meet him, and he asked me to advise you that if you wished to see him you could go down now while I stay with Bilbo, but if you have no wish to see him then no one is going to force you, no matter what the elf king says." Ori sucked in a deep breath after repeating his verbatim message.
"Thank you Master Ori." Tauriel smiled up at him.
"Um…how is Bilbo?" Flustered at being caught in the glow of the she-elf's smile Ori fiddled with his mittens, pulling on a loose thread until the garment almost unravelled.
"He is doing well, sleeping at the moment as you can see. His shoulder will take a long time to heal, and it may never be quite the same again, but that is a bridge we have yet to cross."
"Is there any food?" Kili broke in. "I mean, for when he wakes – he's bound to be hungry."
"There were several cooking fires in the old barracks kitchens, and the last of the meat is being chopped and added to the stew pots. I think they're feeding the sick first, then the women and children from Laketown, men and warriors last." The scribe shrugged. "Apparently that was Lord Dain's idea – reckons his fighters don't need much to keep them going, and he's already had word that more supplies should be with us by tomorrow night."
Kili nodded.
"I'd better get back." Ori waved vaguely towards the door. "I'll bring up some food as soon as it's ready – you can keep Bilbo's warm by the fire." Without waiting for a response he hurried out, leaving the others alone once more.
"Will you go down?"
Tauriel shook her head. "There is nothing I wish to say to King Thranduil."
"So, when Bilbo is well again, when winter is past, will you set out on your journey to find these lost caves?"
Kili looked everywhere but into the face of the one he loved until, while he stared at the floor between his feet she moved forward, kneeling in front of him and leaning forward to look up into his eyes.
"It was never my intention to make that journey." She admitted softly. "But as I refuse to beg, either from my king or from yours, I had to say something."
"Then what will you do?"
Tauriel shrugged.
"I don't know…"
"Another bridge we have yet to cross?" Kili smiled at her.
"Will you cross it with me?"
Leaning down, the dwarf pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.
"With all my heart."
xXx
Perfectly comfortable on his makeshift chair Thorin stared at Thranduil, waiting.
"So Thorin Oakenshield, you once again have your mountain."
"I do"
With a disdainful curl of his lip the eleven king looked down his nose at his host. "I am pleased to see the news that your wounds were minor has proved to be the truth" he drawled, looking anything but pleased.
Thorin simply dipped his head in acknowledgement, his eyes never leaving other. "I'm sure you have not asked to meet with me simply to see for yourself that I still live." At his side he felt Balin tense slightly, but he merely sat and waited for Thranduil's answer.
"You intend to have yourself crowned King under the Mountain sometime soon?"
"What is it to you?" despite the calmness of Thorin's words Balin moved closer and placed a hand on his shoulder as if to prevent him leaping to his feet.
In response Thranduil simply stared, and in the lengthening silence the older dwarf spoke up.
"There is much work to do to make the mountain habitable again King Thranduil, and although by birthright he is and has for the greater part of his life been King under the Mountain, we intend to hold a formal coronation ceremony once we have a home fit to welcome our kin back to."
Cool grey eleven eyes surveyed the king's advisor as if weighing his words to seek the truth of them.
"It will be a good day when your people return King Thorin."
All eyes turned to the tall blond figure standing just within the inner tent. Legolas quirked a brief smile at the two dwarves, ignoring the cold hard stare of his father - he was aware that his defiance had yet to be truly forgiven, no matter how pleased the king was that they had both survived the battle relatively unscathed.
"Indeed it will, your Highness" Ever the diplomat, Balin smiled and bowed graciously.
Thranduil waved a dismissive hand. "Be that as it may, there is now the matter of payment that must be discussed." He stared icily at the dwarves, unaware of his son's cringing frown at his father's words.
Thorin, glancing up from under his lashes, caught the younger elf's expression.
Standing at his friend and king's shoulder Balin expected an eruption of vitriol - what he actually heard was Thorin's rich throaty chuckle.
"You wish to be paid?" The dwarf king smiled, but the smile did not reach his eyes. "And what price do you consider adequate payment for a treacherous elf whose original aim when coming here was to demand a share of Erebor's wealth?"
Thranduil's eyes stretched wide in surprise, but Thorin had more to say.
"What about compensation for falsely imprisoning myself and my company? And for the way you turned your back on my people when Smaug came, what compensation for that your Majesty?"
"You were trespassing..."
"We were passing through, you had no cause..."
"You were up to no good, why else would you have travelled that particular route?"
"Had there been a viable alternative we would never have set foot in that Mahal forsaken wood, with its sickness, and its spiders..."
"Father..."
Thranduil's head whipped round as if he would admonish his son, but then he recalled where he was and stopped, turning slowly back to look at the dwarf.
"And how is Master Baggins? I understand he was injured during the battle, believed lost for a while, but Mithrandir assures me he is alive and being looked after in your mountain."
Not liking the sudden change of topic Thorin paused, considering whether or not Balin would let him throw the elven king out of the tent.
"Master Baggins is none of your concern." He replied at last.
"Are you so sure? He came to us before the battle..."
"You are wrong - he went to the Bowman, to Bard." Thorin knew this to be true, the wizard had assured him that Bilbo had never intended to give his heirloom to any other.
A sly, knowing look graced the eleven king's pale face.
"Ah yes, he went to make good your promise, to offer up the Arkenstone in place of the gold you promised..."
"Master Baggins is honourable, he had given his word on my behalf. When in my sickness I refused to acknowledge my promise he did what he thought was right to make reparation." Thorin rose to his feet and paced away to the back of the tent, and then turning to stare at Thranduil. "I would know why you feel the need to bring him into this discussion."
"Would it surprise you to know that he spoke eloquently on your behalf? He defended your honour despite all that we could see to be true - that you would rather..."
"What do you want, Thranduil?"
Balin's eyes widened in surprise at his king's tone - not anger as he expected, but boredom.
The elf king's eyes also stretched wide, not surprise but shock. He watched as the dark haired dwarf returned to his seat, then leaned forward, a snarl marring his angular features.
"I want the white jewels of Lasgalen, they belong to me, to my people. Also, you have one of my guards here in your mountain. I demand that you allow her to return."
The silence hung thick over the four occupants of the tent as one waited, one considered, and two watched on in anticipation. At last Thorin nodded.
"For your losses during this battle I will grant you the white gems you have for so long coveted, but as for the Lady Tauriel, she is under my protection and will return to you only if it is her wish to do so."
"You cannot hold her hostage!"
"I do not. I merely honour with the offer of shelter and security one who has risked not just her position in your guard, but also her life in order to aid my kin." His eyes moved from Thranduil's grey ones to the pale blue eyes of the younger elf. "As you did Prince Legolas, my thanks are due to you also."
Legolas bowed in response, speechless, while Balin saw an immediate means to end this nerve-wracking meeting.
"King Thranduil, we intend to hold a ceremony three days hence to honour those who died in defense of both Dale and Erebor, you and your son are welcome to attend and at the end of the proceedings we could present the gems as a token of friendship."
From the expression on his face it was quite clear that Thranduil was far from happy with the suggestion, but he was unable to voice his displeasure without sounding like a greedy, petulant child. Instead he sneered down at the dwarves.
"Our dead are already being carried home. I will not leave them to rot in this forsaken land."
"Nor would we expect you to," Balin interjected smoothly, his gentle smile never once slipping despite the other's antagonism. "But we would honour them none the less."
"I look forward to welcoming you then." Thorin's voice belied his words as he stood to leave. "We will send word of the final arrangements, but for now I fear we still have much to do before the halls are ready. I shall leave you with Lord Balin here, he will make note of anything, within reason, that you wish to add to the ceremony."
And on that note he left the tent, walking away with the merest hint of a limp to indicate how much pain he was in.
Balin blinked as he watched him go, and then turned his smile back to the Elven King.
"Now your Majesty…"
xXx
Bilbo didn't want to open his eyes. Everything from the hair on the top of his head to the tips of his long toes ached, and he was afraid that any movement would just set those aches ratcheting out of control.
He was hot, and his skin itched with the heat, but he vaguely recalled the elf, Tauriel, telling him not to try to move without assistance.
"Can we remove the covers please?" he asked without opening his eyes.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you laddie."
Bilbo's eyes shot open.
"Dwalin!"
"Aye lad, now you just lay still and let me sit you up. Ori brought some food for you and I've been keeping it warm on the hearth." The bulky warrior moved around to gently ease the hobbit up, one hand pushing cushions behind to support him.
"The covers?" Bilbo questioned, freeing his uninjured arm from under them.
"You're as naked as the day you were born underneath those blankets lad," Dwalin grinned. "I think you might prefer to stay covered."
Fiery red colour – nothing to do with his raised temperature – raced up Bilbo's face and tinged the very tips of his ears. Tauriel had been his constant companion since they had moved him into the mountain; she had been there every time he woke up. Surely she…? His thoughts were interrupted by the scraping of chair legs across the stone floor as Dwalin settled himself down to feed him.
"Surely you have more important things to do than play nursemaid." Bilbo observed quietly after gratefully swallowing the first few mouthfuls of the surprisingly tasty stew.
"Aye, but a warrior needs to eat too, and a chance to rest is always welcome." Dwalin replied thoughtfully. "Was Bofur's idea this, for us all to take a turn to sit with you, it means the work doesn't stop, but we all get the chance to rest and eat."
"I'm not surprised, Bofur's a lot more sensible than he pretends to be." Chewing the next mouthful, Bilbo let his eyes rove around the room. He could see that Dwalin had lit extra lamps, giving him a better view of his quarters.
"You're in the hall o' Lords." Dwalin informed him as he encouraged him to take another mouthful of food. "Every member of the company has been given quarters here except, of course, the Royal family. They're in…"
"The Royal quarters, yes I assumed that much." Bilbo responded drily, a small frown dinting his forehead.
"Something wrong?"
"Dwalin, why am I here?"
The warrior frowned back at him as if he didn't understand the question.
"I mean," Bilbo hastened to add. "Why the Hall of Lords? At best I expected to be put in with the other wounded, at worst left out in the camp…" His eyes widened suddenly and the blood drained from his face. "Unless it's protect me from the anger of Dain's army…?"
"Don't be daft lad…"
"Yes, that must be it. I cannot blame them for hating me; after all I did steal the King's jewel and hand it over to the lake men." Turning sad eyes up to his heavily tattooed companion Bilbo asked plaintively "Will they at least grant me safe passage to leave?"
Dwalin opened his mouth to refute the hobbit's words, but Bilbo's eyes were drooping, so he put the food aside and gently lowered his companion back down into a more comfortable sleeping position.
"Don't worry about leaving yet," he said quietly. "You concentrate on healing first."
But Bilbo was already asleep.
xXx
Dawn brought with it a snowstorm of epic proportions.
Thranduil had pulled his people back to the forest on the far side of Dale, back into familiar surroundings from where he could reorganize his remaining troops. Still torn about remaining for the ceremony in two day's and returning to his home, the elven king had snarled at his son that even if he were offered a place he would not stay within the confines of the mountain, preferring rather to wait under familiar skies. Legolas thought privately that it would be a cold day in the Undying Lands before his father would receive such an invitation from Thorin Oakenshield.
Outside the mountain, in the tents nearest to the repaired entrance gate Bard and the remainder of his people sheltered from the storm. He had taken what was originally Thorin's company tent as his base, he and his family sleeping in the once sickroom, while the outer tent was put to use as a meeting room, not unlike its former occupation. Balin had arranged for the portable stoves to be left in the tents where possible, and for that Bard was grateful as winter bared her teeth and howled her fury around the camp.
Within the Erebor its new king had risen early, his footsteps leading him to the two halls designated as infirmaries.
The dwarven casualties had been taken into the old feasting halls, and he stopped by there first to talk to healer and healing alike, expressing his thanks and acknowledging their hard work and sacrifice, talking easily to the soldiers in the same manner that had won him affection and loyalty when he led his people to safety so many years ago, and he left behind considerably happier casualties as he made his way towards the market halls.
Thorin was aware enough of the men's feelings towards him and his company, the fact that they were homeless because of his quest, to know that he wouldn't get a welcome such as he had received from his cousin's people. Stepping quietly through the door he looked around for the healers, but found himself looking up at a hard-faced woman wearing a hat almost as odd as Bofur's.
"Mistress…?"
"Hilda Blanca. What's your business in here Master Dwarf?"
"I came to see if your injured needed anything more." Thorin drew himself up to his full height, which was still significantly shorter than the woman in front of him. "I am…"
"I know who you are Master Oakenshield, King under the Mountain." Hilda turned and led him between the rows of sleeping injured. "We need more food, and blankets – not just for the wounded, but for them as have been left outside. They'll soon be buried under snowdrifts as high as my shoulder."
"But you are housed within the mountain?"
"Aye, all the better to take my turn with nursing these poor buggers." She stopped, and looked thoughtfully down at her feet. "It was good of you to bring the women and children in, and men to put their minds at ease in these strange surroundings, but our new lord is out there with his children and with menfolk who are not much better off than these laying here."
"You would have me move them inside Mistress Blanca?"
"I would have that none of this had happened but my wish will never be granted so…" She looked back at him. "I'm not greedy, or ungrateful Master Oakenshield, but I fear for those left to fend for themselves against the elements…"
"And rightly so." Thorin nodded, his brow knitted in a thoughtful frown. "If you will trust me to deal with this as best I can?"
"I have no option but to trust you sir."
Thorin nodded in acknowledgement and turned on his heel. "Then I will do my best not to disappoint." He said grimly as he left the room.
xXx
The kitchens and communal eating area attached to the barracks had been put to good use since the dwarves had moved in, and it was to this dining room that Thorin made his way, still mulling over the woman's words and wishes.
He was pleased to find he wasn't the only early riser. Bombur and one or Dain's cooks had started making a vat of thick porridge, the supplies from the Iron Hills having made it just hours before the storm. Sitting down and already tucking into their breakfast he found Dwalin, Kili and Tauriel, and he crossed the room to take a seat beside them, grabbing his own bowl of porridge on the way.
His nephew and cousin nodded acknowledgement, barely breaking the rhythm of the rising spoons feeding them. Tauriel was a deal more respectful, putting her spoon down and rising to bow gracefully.
"Be seated Lady Tauriel." Thorin found himself smiling at her. "And tell me how Master Baggins fares."
"He was still sleeping when we left him your Majesty, Nori and Ori are watching over him." She thought for a moment then added "I believe he is still in enough pain to require the herbs I have prepared for him, but he had eaten regularly, and managed to stay awake long enough to hold a conversation"
"Good, good."
"You should come and see him Uncle, I'm sure he'll be pleased to see you."
"I'm afraid I'm far too busy at the moment Kili," Thorin held up his hand when the younger dwarf opened his mouth to argue. "And I'm sure that Master Baggins will heal a lot faster without me hovering over him, reminding him…" He drew a deep breath. "And I need to find Dain and Balin, have they been in to eat yet."
His three companions watched in confusion as he pushed away his barely touched food.
"Aye" Dwalin eventually answered. "My brother went down to one of the small chambers above the store rooms, the better – he said – to arrange fair shares of food."
Thorin nodded and rose to his feet. "Then that is where I shall be, send Dain to me should you see him."
As they watched him walk out of the room Kili reached across and snagged his uncle's unfinished porridge.
"Waste not, want not!" he grinned as his companions laughed.
xXx
In the Hall of Lords Bilbo lay with his eyes shut listening to Nori and Ori quietly bickering, but he took no notice of them, his mind was too busy with the problem of how he could leave without Dain's warriors tearing him apart.
He was so busy puzzling this out that he almost missed Ori's words.
"Dori thinks that though this storm might blow itself out here, the snow will close the pass over the Misty Mountains. I only hope the ravens managed to get through to the Blue Mountains."
Bilbo heard Nori chuckle, and say something about enough supplies to last until spring, but he wasn't concentrating on that. His mind was clogged with the thought that he would never survive the snow if he attempted to leave now, and a single, lonely tear forced its way out from under his eyelashes to trail wetly down his cheek.
