Chapter 10

To Navigate a Minefield

I think I was in shock, or at least in a state of near shock as Thráin led Harry and me out of the gardens and up to the house. Pieces of the puzzle had started slowly falling into place. I was no foolish girl who would go to extreme lengths in insisting this wasn't really happening. I knew I could trust my own senses and I was sensible enough to realise that if Harry was seeing the same things I was, it had to be real.

But it was a shock. I didn't know how G. Grey, or Gandalf as I was told to call him, had done it when, according to my newfound kinsman, he was not even in Rivendell. He was off on mysterious business of his own somewhere west and he had not been here in all the time that Thráin had been. So it could not possibly have been him who had delivered the box to the hotel or who had posted the letter that was sent to me back in the spring. It'd had post stamps on the envelop and it had come in with the other mail, so he could not have just made it appear from out of nowhere. Besides, he was apparently knowledgeable enough to have been able to give me a date, time and exact location in a world not his own. And he had somehow learned of my investigation in Kate Andrews's disappearance. How could he have done that?

Thráin didn't have any answers for me when I put these questions to him. 'Don't ask of me to know the mind of a wizard,' he said, almost as if it had offended him that I allegedly thought he did.

My world was spinning rapidly out of my control and I had to work hard to keep the panic at bay. It was only the thought of Harry that kept me from either breaking down in tears or having a screaming meltdown. Because the one thing that had become very clear to me, in fact the very moment Thráin told me who his mother was, was that everything I had found out about Kate Andrews in the past months had been true. There had been no psychopath, everything in Kate's letters had been nothing but truth and Jeremy Grey had been as sane as he could have been. How the man had been ridiculed for having been brave enough to speak of what he had seen! I myself felt fairly ashamed at realising I had been one of the people doing the ridiculing. Of course that was after his death, but still.

Meanwhile, all of this newfound insight did little to calm my nerves. If possible, it made me more afraid than anything else. Because if Kate's letters could be believed, she had been taken to perform a particular job, one that had not been without danger. Given the fact that it had been about eighty years and I had kindly been sent a copy of The Lord of the Rings, and Kate's old copy at that, it took no great mind to piece together what I was there for. The grey wizard was many things, but subtle he was most certainly not. And sometimes I really hated how quickly I could order little snippets of information together to make one coherent whole of it all. In the given circumstances, I might even have preferred ignorance for a little longer…

Beth

If things had been any different, Beth might have thought she had wandered into a dream. Rivendell was breathtakingly beautiful. The colours were somehow brighter, the air clearer and the sounds friendlier. If she had come here of her own free will, she would have felt peace the likes of which she had not experienced in years.

Instead it took all of her self-control to keep the panic from sending her right into a meltdown. She couldn't afford it. Goodness, Harry still thought it was all one great adventure. He wasn't yet old enough to realise that magic wasn't real. The kid still believed that Father Christmas was the one delivering the presents under the tree. He had not learned to be all sensible about the world. And for once, that may be to her advantage, because it kept him calm and even reasonably happy.

Harry had taken one look at Alfur and decided that he liked him. Beth didn't know exactly what he was, although from his looks and height she would have guessed dwarf. She didn't dare to ask. That was probably impolite. Alfur on the other hand clearly did not know what to make of Harry and her either, but Thráin's word that they were kin had clearly been enough for him to at least for the moment stop asking questions. Thráin's assurance to explain the situation in full once he himself had gained a better understanding of it might have something to do with it too.

She didn't know what to make of him any more than she knew what to think of his friend. He had declared her family, even though she was very distant family and they had never met, and for him that seemed sufficient information to go on. He had been very quick in offering his help when he had found out.

I suppose I know where I have seen his eyes before, she thought as they walked through the gardens in one of the most awkward silences she had ever experienced in all her life. They were her grandpa Andrews's. And from the photographs she had seen of his sister, she knew it was a feature they had shared.

Still, something did not make sense. 'If you are Kate's son,' she began, 'shouldn't you be older?' She had done the math and things did just not add up, even if she had given birth to a child at relatively old age.

He laughed. 'How old do you think I am?'

Beth gave him a scrutinising glance. 'Late twenties, early thirties,' she estimated. He certainly could not be much older than she was. He looked young, younger still when he laughed.

'I turned seventy-four last summer,' he announced.

'He's practically still in swaddling,' Alfur chimed in helpfully.

'Oh, aye, and you're what? A full six years older than I am?' It was a little shocking to see how quickly he could go from quiet and almost brooding to this relaxed, joking fellow. Beth had a feeling he was more used to the latter than to the former. And these two must be bantering a lot; it sounded like they had this discussion many times before.

'Seventy-four?' she echoed. 'That's about as old as my Uncle Archie.' And he is old and grey. Thráin most certainly was not.

He frowned at her, mirth forgotten. 'Did your book not made mention of this?' He thought for a moment. 'Or amad in her letters to her brother?'

She was not in the mood for riddles. 'Made mention of what?'

'We dwarves have a longer lifespan than your kind,' Alfur replied before Thráin got the chance.

Thráin scoffed at him. 'So, now you're in the divulging mood? Did you receive a blow to the head?'

'No, there was just a mountain troll flattening my foot, I reckon.' Alfur didn't miss a beat before he threw an insult back his friend's way. 'Anyways, here I am, making all these allowances for your kin and now you're complaining? Complicated fellow, are you?'

Thráin smirked. 'You might want to take a good long look in one of these elvish mirrors, my friend.'

Alfur shook his head. 'Nah, I am a dwarf of simple pleasures,' he declared, confirming the theory that he was indeed a dwarf. 'Give me work, food and company and I'll be content.'

'The company being for purposes of chatting to death, I figure.' It was becoming a bit like a tennis match, with how quickly this chatter went back and forth. Harry was certainly seeing it that way; his head went from Alfur to Thráin and back again.

'Ah, you wound me!' Alfur pretended to be insulted.

'Piercing that shield of self-worth would even be beyond the might of a wizard,' Thráin pointed out. 'And speaking of wizards, I fear this is where you and I will part company for a while.' He gave Alfur a pointed look. 'Could you take the luggage and tell Glóin and Bofur that Gandalf has done to my kinswoman what he once did to my mother?'

'You've been hanging around these elves too long; you're just as cryptic.' Alfur clearly didn't like it.

All jest had gone from Thráin's voice and face. 'They will know what I mean.' Was that actual anger she saw in his eyes? Why would he be? No one had harmed him, had they?

It had been years and years since she had actually read The Lord of the Rings. The Hobbit had been slightly more recently picked off the shelf, so she did recall dwarves were a grumpy and complaining bunch who really liked to be rich, but beyond that, there wasn't much she remembered. But from her research she knew that Kate Andrews had actually been a fan of Tolkien's works. She would have got on tremendously well with Peter, who was a very big fan. He had all the books and watched those old movies – extended editions, naturally – at least once a year. From the look of things, Kate had been like that, maybe a bit less extreme, but she would have known enough to not make herself look like a complete fool in this world. The same could not be said of her.

Whatever he bloody well wants, Gandalf abducted the wrong sibling, she thought. And wasn't it strange she even thought things like this in the first place. The panic, temporarily subsided by the dwarves' jesting, came back with a vengeance. I can't do what Kate did. I've got Harry and my family and I need to go home again. Oh, dear God, Mary will be worried out of her mind.

In this case it wasn't helping that she knew what had become of her great-aunt. It meant that she also was reasonably sure of what was in store for her. And with all due respect to Kate and her achievements, this was a whole lot bigger than a dragon and a battle. From what she could remember of the book and Peter's ramblings, there would be multiple battles and a dragon might actually be preferred over the creepy ghosts in black robes she vaguely recalled wandering around the story.

Surprisingly it was Alfur who saved her from drowning in her own thoughts. He had hoisted Harry over his shoulders. Her son was squealing with laughter. 'No, I am not luggage!'

It was instantly clear that she had missed something. 'Excuse me, what on earth do you think you're doing?'

Thráin was the one who answered her. 'We will need to speak with Lord Elrond.' The tone suggested that Thráin was more inclined to have a heated argument with the elf than a civilised conversation. There was certainly no amusement now and the anger had become more pronounced. Well, dwarves did not really like elves, did they? That might explain it.

I wish I remembered more!

Beth liked to have things sorted out, in order. She liked to work to a schedule, to know when what was going to happen. And today her life was spinning so wildly out of control that she could not possibly keep up with all the developments. And it was wreaking havoc with both her mood and her manners.

'Yes,' she said. 'I knew that.' World-hopping doesn't come with sudden forgetfulness. 'What's that got to do with Harry being dragged around like a sack of potatoes?'

Alfur's sudden glare told her how much he appreciated her talking like that, which was to say, not at all. Thráin was equally unimpressed. 'I thought it best not to have a child present at such a conversation.' He had gone oddly formal again. Was that just him or did all the people around here talk like that? 'He will be safe with my kin and you will see him after.'

It sounded sensible. But the mere idea of letting Harry out of her sight in the presence of complete strangers made her stomach clench in protest. Then again, you ship him off to Mary's five days a week. She did, but that was different. Mary was her sister. She knew she could entrust Harry to her. But these people were strangers. But they were also Thráin's family. That was what he'd said, wasn't it? Did that mean they were somehow her family too or was it just his father's side of the family? All of this was giving her a headache.

She gave a curt nod. Harry seemed to be happy and if she had to trust someone, it might be best to trust the people who weren't responsible for abducting them in the first place. 'Okay,' she said. 'But let's be quick about it.'

'Wouldn't count on it, lass.' Alfur at least had not lost his humour over it. 'Thráin here has been waiting for an excuse to chew these elves out for weeks. And he's a lot like his ma, you know; once they get going there's no stopping them.'

'Get out of my sight,' Thráin told him, but it was more said in fond exasperation than in actual anger.

'As you wish, your highness,' Alfur said. 'Come on then, lad, climb on my back. You don't weigh more than a sack of grain altogether and I'll need my hands free for your luggage.' Harry didn't need telling twice. It did look a bit awkward, because Alfur was a dwarf and Harry was relatively tall for his age. Her son was still the smallest one of the two, but he probably wouldn't be for very long.

'Go, horse!' Harry commanded and Alfur made a whinnying sound before taking off, nearly bowling over an elf coming round the corner.

'Your son will be safe with him.' Thráin appeared to have read her mind. 'Whatever stories you may think you have heard about dwarves stealing children, they are untrue.'

Beth frowned. 'I don't think I've heard those stories, not in my world.' There are no dwarves in my world, or elves, or wizards. And she liked it that way. She liked to be able to understand the world she lived in. Here, in Rivendell, she was far, far out of her depth.

Thráin only nodded. 'Good.' She could not be sure, but she thought he had seemed somewhat surprised.

The elf Alfur had nearly knocked down walked past them with one eyebrow quizzically raised and Beth found herself turning to look after him as he walked away from them. Of course she had known they were supposed to be beautiful, but it was quite something else seeing it. And now that she had, their beauty seemed somewhat overwhelming.

Thráin mistook her awe for astonishment. 'Don't expect them to take notice of you,' he said. She could hear the scorn in his voice. 'We're too far beneath them for that. They suffer our presence because they must, not out of genuine generosity.'

And you suffer them because you must, Beth thought. He did not seem overly fond of them himself. So why was he even here if he did not want to be and the elves in turn did not want him here either? There was so much she didn't know. She could practically feel the headache steadily increasing. Soon it would be unbearable.

'Coffee,' she moaned. 'Coffee, my kingdom for a cup of coffee.'

Thráin looked at her strangely. 'Your kingdom for what now? You have a kingdom of your own?' It was hard to say which of these two things puzzled him most.

Beth only registered one thing. They didn't know coffee. This was going to be hard. 'It's just a quote. Well, sort of.' How to explain that one? 'From a play, from my world. Shakespeare.'

If she had hoped this would clear things up a bit, she had been hoping in vain. In a gesture not unlike the elf who had just walked by, he raised one eyebrow and then let the matter rest. Or so she thought. 'My mother used to say things of the sort,' he said. There was the tiniest hint of a smile on his lips. 'Words that none could understand the meaning of and she'd be smiling like she enjoyed a private joke.'

One thing was for certain. 'I did not joke.' In any other situation she might have all but committed murder to discover snippets of information about Kate Andrews, but as matters stood, she was not in the mood for it. Learning that her letters had actually been the truth kind of took the joy of discovery out of it for her. And now she only wanted to be home, put her research through the shredder and find a new project that wasn't so bloody impossible. In fact, she would pay good money to forget this day. 'Let's just find your Lord Elrond and hope he has a way to send me back.'

Thráin frowned so deeply the lines seemed almost etched into his forehead. 'He is not my Lord Elrond and I wouldn't count on it if I were you. This is of Gandalf's making and even if Lord Elrond was of a mind to undo it, I do not think he could.'

Of course, I forgot you do not like elves. So many things to remember. Beth didn't think she could possibly think of it all. And Thráin, kinsman or not, was not the most patient of teachers. It didn't help that he seemed to slip between being in and out of humour so quickly and unpredictably. 'Let's just go,' she said, rubbing her temples.

He took some pity on her. 'For all that I do not like elves, Lord Elrond is by far one of the more reasonable,' he said. 'And I do not think he will stand for what Gandalf did. Taking my mother is one thing, but she was unattached. No doubt your husband will need you to return to him.'

For one moment Beth was incredibly confused. Husband, what husband? Where in the world had he gotten the idea that she was married? And then it hit her. Harry. She had a son and single mothers would be thin on the ground around these parts. Well, unless the husband had fallen in battle or succumbed to a sickness they couldn't treat. But all those single mothers would have been married first. Beth had never been and she didn't think she ever wanted to. But how to explain that?

'I am not married,' she replied curtly. 'Harry's father is…' She hesitated, before settling on: 'Long gone. He's long gone.' Hopefully Thráin would think he died and not ask any more questions. She didn't like to lie, but a little misdirection wouldn't hurt her or him. Besides, it wasn't any of his business.

It worked like a charm. 'I am sorry to hear that.' There was more understanding in his eyes than Beth liked, though, almost as if he had heard the phrase before and knew what it meant. How much did Kate tell her son about her own world and her life before she came to this one? From her own investigation she knew that Kate's parents had been divorced and that Kate had severed all contact with her father. She could have told Thráin, she supposed.

She didn't ask.

'Where will we find him?' she asked. 'Lord Elrond, I mean.'

'This time of day, the library,' her new friend answered.

This immediate reply confused her a little. 'So, you don't like elves, but you know where to find one specific one in all of Rivendell at any given hour?' It seemed a bit odd to say the least.

'I am a frequent visitor of the place myself,' Thráin explained. 'Though I am forced to share it with those whose company I would not willingly seek out.'

Huh. He was a reader? He did not look like one to her. This gruff guy she could picture swinging a sword around or something of the sort. More brawl than brain, she had assumed at first, but the moment she thought it, she had known she had not been quite right in thinking that. He was intelligent, but, in her opinion, not the book-kind of intelligent. He didn't seem like someone who could enjoy sitting still for hours with a book.

'I see,' she said, even when she didn't. From what she had seen so far, he appeared to be easily insulted. He was nice enough to be around when no offensive things were said, but it was a bit like navigating a minefield without a map; eventually she would step on one and he would go all dark and broody and it made her feel like an idiot.

This amused him. 'Do you?'

Beth didn't answer. No need to dig her grave any deeper than it already was.

Her silence must have been all the answer he needed, because he said: 'We dwarves value straight talk. The truth will not offend me.' The words were brusque, but they were also sincere, as far as Beth could tell.

I am doing this all wrong, she lamented silently and not for the first time she desperately wished she could remember more of Tolkien's world. Unfortunately wishing did not make the knowledge suddenly appear.

'I'm sorry,' she said. 'So that's the way to go: it doesn't matter what you say, as long as it's honest?' That was a bit of a novelty.

'Among my people, most certainly,' Thráin replied. His good humour had obviously returned, because he was smiling somewhat again. 'Though I would advise you not to do so with the elves. And be on your guard when talking to them; they will say yes and no in the same sentence and you won't be any the wiser for it.' When he noticed Beth's confusion, he added: 'They'll talk you round and round in circles so skilfully your head will spin.' The smile widened. 'One of my mother's old pieces of wisdom. She was not particularly fond of elves, as you might have surmised.'

Kate's letters had been rather clear on that, as a matter of fact. 'Yes, I did read something about it in the letters she wrote to my grandfather. She did not seem to like them much.'

Thráin laughed heartily, sensing maybe that dislike was too mild a word for Kate's feelings about the fairest folk Beth had ever seen. 'Indeed,' he said.

Ugh, all this effort on her behalf was making her feel awkward enough, but now he was being nice as well? Why was he even doing that? Well, if he was right and his people did value straight talk, maybe she should just ask.

So she did. 'Why are you even helping me?' she blurted out. That was not normally like her, being so direct about matters, especially not to strangers, but by now the not knowing was getting really old really fast. 'I mean, you don't know me, I don't know you. But here you are and you're helping me.' No, that wasn't all of it. 'And clearly you think it's worth getting into a fight with your host over.'

She wasn't sure, but it looked like it was approval she saw in his eyes. She wasn't quite prepared for the blunt honesty he sent her way, though. 'True enough,' he said. 'I hardly know you, but you are my kinswoman all the same. And you have been wronged terribly in the same way my mother was wronged many years ago. I would not have you go through the same.'

'That's… kind,' Beth said hesitantly. It explained some of it, but still, was being family enough for him to leap to her defence? It seemed somewhat far-fetched. Then again, this was another world with different morals and different people. How was she to know what was the norm? It's a different country and they do things differently here. She had better remember it.

Thráin chuckled. 'That's not a word people normally use when they talk about my family,' he informed her. 'Come, you'll soon see why.'

With that surprisingly cryptic remark, he turned right into another corridor, leaving Beth no choice but to follow after him.

Thráin

Thráin was well aware he had not told his newfound cousin the whole reason why he was on the warpath. She most certainly had been wrong when she had thought it was out of kindness. His family was not good with that. Anger, on the other hand, came easy to all of them.

And he was, spitting mad, in fact. What in Durin's name had Gandalf been thinking? Thráin had read the story his parents had written and he had been struck dumb by the heartache he had found in the pages, not because it was news to him, but because he finally understood why his mother would go quiet and sad at times. She of course she had never explained it when he asked, and he had. And now the wizard was about to put another woman through the same sufferings. He could not stand for that.

It did decidedly not help that he kept drawing comparisons between Beth and his own amad. Had she looked as lost when she first found herself in another world? Had she not known what to say either? Or had she responded to it the way Thráin remembered her doing when she was out of her depth, with anger and words that took down everything in their path? Had she asked as many questions as Beth did? The story had given some insights, but it had not been a minute-to-minute account of events and a story was no substitute for actually being there.

And then there was that big difference. Beth had a son, about six or seven years old. He didn't know where the father was, other than not there, and Beth hadn't seemed willing to divulge that information, so he let it be. And it was unacceptable dragging a woman and a child into a world that would no doubt very soon find itself engaged in a war the likes of which this Age had not seen before. Even if Gandalf needed an advisor again, like he had eighty years ago, surely there must have been others fit to do the job? And maybe Alfur was right; he had been waiting for a decent excuse for an argument with the elves and he refused to believe that this time Elrond was unaware of Gandalf's schemes. There had to be a good reason why Beth had arrived in Rivendell of all places. With so much danger in the world, Rivendell was one of the last safe havens west of the Misty Mountains.

Thráin saw the intent of the wizard in that. In that and in all the details Beth had divulged. He had not understood all of it – even having the advantage of being the son of a woman from another world had not helped him much in understanding aforementioned world – but he had comprehended enough to learn that a lot of planning on Gandalf's part had gone into it and that he must have had an accomplice. He knew that what had been done to his mother was called a There and Back Again spell. One could go to that other world and return from it, but that was the limit, because, according to the grey wizard, travel between worlds was not meant to be. Gandalf had been there prior to Thráin's mother's abduction, so reason dictated he could not have done so again. Someone else must have gone in his stead. And the wizard did not lack elven friends to run errands for him, even the errands that did not make much sense.

'After you,' he told Beth, holding open the door to the library for her. The lass had been quiet for the remainder of the walk, keeping her thoughts to herself, but Thráin could tell her mind had not been idle. She was intelligent, this cousin of his, and under that calm and collected exterior, she was hiding both fear and no small measure of anger over what had been done to her. He prayed to the Maker that she had the sense to show some of the latter. Maybe that would make the elf sit up and pay attention. And if not, Thráin would do it for her.

She nodded and did as he asked, but stopped two steps into the library. And in its own way it was indeed very impressive. Thráin himself did not see the use of things that had been crafted purely for decoration rather than use, but the race of men had a long history of being in awe of everything the Firstborn did and made. His own mother had been an exception rather than the rule. Thráin knew this, but was nevertheless annoyed.

'Come,' he told her, brushing past her, leading the way to the corner of the library he knew Lord Elrond liked to use. He had been here much in weeks past. With access to workshops denied to him and his kin, he had needed to divert himself another way and the library of Rivendell had garnered some fame. While he abhorred having to put quill to parchment, he had never lacked interest in reading the words others had written.

True to expectations, they found Lord Elrond at his usual desk, scrolls spread out in front of him. But his elven senses must have detected them long before they walked into his line of sight, for his attention was not on his books.

'Ah, you must be the advisor Gandalf sent for.' Well, at least he wasted no time on pleasantries. Good, for Thráin had no patience for them.

Beth was speechless for the time being, so Thráin took it upon himself to answer in her stead. 'So you did have knowledge of his plans,' he concluded. Which was strange, when one thought on it for longer than a few seconds. The Lord of Rivendell had a reputation for being kind, the one who always took refuge on the moral high ground. What had been done to Beth did not fit with what Thráin knew to be true of him. 'I did not believe you would give your consent to such a scheme.'

There was great wisdom and solemnness in the elf's eyes and Thráin almost did a step back in spite of himself when that gaze settled on him. 'You do not yet understand the danger this world is in, Thráin, son of Thorin,' he said. 'Before long, the Shadow will grow darker and longer and threaten all of this world. Gandalf did as he had to.'

Thráin scoffed. 'Like he did when he took my mother.' He would always have mixed feelings about that. On one hand he recognised the hurt she must have suffered and the injustice of the wizard's actions, but on the other hand he was oddly grateful. He would not have been born without her there. His father would have perished and Dáin would be King under the Mountain.

Much to his own surprise, Lord Elrond did not appear to know what he meant. 'Your mother?'

He almost felt triumphant. 'Was not from Bree. Nor was she married to my father yet when she passed through your lands.' It was rare at all for a dwarf to know something an elf did not. Rarer still was it for an elf to show that they did not know something and Elrond was visibly confused. He must not have been as deep in Gandalf's council as he believed himself to be. Welcome to working with wizards, my Lord Elf. 'And Beth Andrews is the granddaughter of my mother's brother and therefore my kinswoman.' And let the elf work out for himself that her abduction was a slight Thráin would not stand for. Neither would Glóin and Bofur, once they learned of what had passed.

'I see,' the elf said. He'd wiped his face blank again, but he had been too late in doing so. Thráin had caught a glimpse of the emotion underneath. And he rather thought it was a safe guess to say that he was not very pleased with Gandalf's conduct at the moment. Or rather, that he did not mind the actions as much as he hated being in an argument with dwarves and finding he was not in possession of all the facts. Of course, he would never admit as much to Thráin, or Beth for that matter, but hopefully he would take it up with the wizard.

'Do you?' Thráin doubted that he did.

He was ignored. Instead, the elf turned to Beth. 'Don't be afraid, child. No harm will come to you here.'

It had been a miracle that Beth had managed to keep herself together for as long as she had, but now she finally broke. And when the words came out, Thráin almost found himself surprised at the anger in them. 'I should not even have been here. This is wrong. What right do you think you have to allow me to be dragged here, against my will?' She held herself with an authority that was hard to deny. Maybe it was all that kept her from falling apart, Thráin did not know. Maybe it simply came with the territory of being a mother. A few times already he had seen her on the verge of saying something rude, but she had always caught herself at the last moment, for her son's sake.

'I believe Gandalf issued an invitation,' Elrond said. He did seem uncomfortable, though.

'For a meeting, an interview!' Beth exclaimed. Thráin saw the tremor in her hands. 'He claimed to have information about the Kate Andrews case, something that could help me in writing my book! I thought he had something useful for me for a change, not fairy tales and whirlwinds and whatnot. Oh, dear God!'

She had kept her composure for a long time considering what she had been through. Now shock was setting in. Thráin had seen it before, about ten years ago. He had been tracking a small party of orcs that had terrorised the region of the Ered Luin and he had caught up with them at a small village of men. He had dispatched of them, but not in time to save the village from ruin. He had helped the survivors as best he could, building a shelter, finding food, aiding the wounded to the best of his abilities. Among the ones still capable to help had been a young woman, a widow now, with two children. When the day dawned, she'd had four children and a husband. For the sake of her two remaining children she had kept her head high and she had worked as hard as she could to get what was left of her community organised, fed and sheltered. It was only when night had fallen and her children had fallen asleep that she had succumbed to her tears. The sound of her sobs had broken Thráin's heart, but he hadn't known how to comfort her. The orcs were dead, true enough, but her home had been burned down and no comforting word of his – provided he could find them and speak them – would restore her loved ones back to life. He had offered her the use of his coat against the cold wind and had prepared a cup of tea for her. He wasn't sure how much it had helped.

Likewise, he had no idea what to do for the cousin he hadn't known existed when he rose this morning. But now, as then, he felt the anger for the injustice that had been done. Would that the wizard were here. Thráin would most certainly know what to do with him.

Beth was still going on. 'And if that isn't bad enough, you took my son with me. For heaven's sake, he's only six years old! And now you want me to do what Kate did? Oh no, my sister is going to freak out!' She was making less and less sense as she went on, her thoughts all coming out of her mouth as she thought them. This too Thráin had seen before.

'A child?' Lord Elrond asked. 'This I did not foresee.'

Thráin did not bother with an answer to that. 'Where is Gandalf?' he asked bluntly.

To his surprise, the elf answered with only a tenth of his usual haughtiness. 'On an errand in the west. He has not been here for many months, but he sent word that he would come hither as soon as he was able.' There was not even a word about how it was no business of the dwarves to pry into his affairs. He must have been shaken indeed.

But not nearly as shaken as the intended advisor. She had surrendered to tears and though the air was pleasant enough, she was shaking like a leaf in a storm. She was a grown woman, with a child, but as she stood there, she seemed but a child herself. She was alone in this world, without friends, without answers and perhaps even without hope. But not without kin, Thráin knew. It had to count for something.

'Can you undo this?' he demanded. 'Send her home to her family. This was badly done.' Very badly done. He would see it rectified before the sun set.

Elrond shook his head. 'This goes beyond even my skill.' It was as direct an answer as he was likely to give. Maybe it was pity that moved him. Thráin did neither know nor care, for it was of no use to him. The answer he wanted to hear was not forthcoming. It was not much of a surprise, but still it angered him. And it angered him more that the one who could be held responsible was not here to account for his actions.

'What will you do then?' Thráin asked. After all, this was his house. His word was law. And though he had not brought Beth and her son here himself, he was not innocent in the matter either. He had known of it, and approved of it, even if he had not been privy to all the sordid details. And whoever Gandalf's accomplice in all of this was, he most likely dwelled in this very valley. Thráin would find out their identity and speak with them. Forcefully, if necessary.

'Take her to your kin and look after her,' the elf said, which was a fancy way of saying nothing and offloading the problem on the dwarves instead. 'After all, you are her kinsman; she will feel more secure among those she can call family.'

And those she hardly knows. We are strangers to her, mere fairy-tales come to life. Yet she was not much different in his eyes. After all, she came from a world he only knew from his mother's story, a world of mystery, a world he would never have suspected existed were it not for that very story and this woman standing next to him. And showing kindness did not come easy to him. Yet it appeared that for his cousin's sake, he would have to make an effort. It did not help matters that Lord Elrond in his own way had made it very clear that she was Thráin's responsibility. Bloody elves. They twisted everything around. For Durin's sake, they seemed to despise responsibility worse than Thráin did.

'A fine show of hospitality,' he sneered. 'Truly worthy of one of the last great elven kingdoms in Middle Earth! Very well, let it not be said that we do not look after our own. We know we do not have to look to others for aid.'

This finally woke Lord Elrond's wrath. 'Have a care for how you speak in this house, Thráin, son of Thorin.' He did barely even raise his voice, but he had a commanding presence that would have silenced him had he not finished speaking already. 'This was not of my making and though I regret the circumstances that brought your kinswoman to this world, yet there will be many days to come when her aid will be sorely needed.'

Beth looked at him through her tears. 'I can't help,' she said. 'I was never the Tolkien nerd in my family. That was always my brother. You've got the wrong person to do your job for you!' There was a note of hysteria in her voice and her fingers were clutching the material of her skirt so tightly the fabric crumpled.

'I trust Gandalf's judgement,' the elf said. 'He would not have erred in his choice.'

'Your faith in the wizard is great indeed.' As matters stood, Thráin really wanted to fight someone. He'd prefer if it would be Gandalf himself, but if this elf provoked him any further, he might just give in to the urge here and now. 'Does it not bother you that he has ripped Beth and her child from their world, leaving them uprooted in a world not their own?'

The anger left Elrond's eyes, leaving only wisdom and a sadness that Thráin found hard to watch. 'Heed my word, son of Durin, you might be glad of her presence before the fate of the world will be decided.' He gave him a knowing look. 'In the same way, I believe, as you are glad your mother was brought here to prevent a greater evil from happening.'

Big words for one who hadn't known the first thing about his mother until Thráin had decided to enlighten him. 'The end justifies the means, then,' he surmised. Oh, how he spat on such attitudes. It took him all his self-control not to do so now, right at the elf's feet. He still might; he was no diplomat of any talent and he was enraged almost beyond the point of reason.

'Darker things than what has been done today will come to pass,' Lord Elrond spoke. 'Think on this before you speak.' He cast a look at Beth. 'Now calm yourself, Master Dwarf, and see to your kinswoman. We will speak again when Gandalf has returned and when we do, I would advise you to have a care for how you speak to him, for he would bear it ill.'

'I will take my chances,' Thráin said. 'He did not slay my mother for speaking a few long overdue truths about his conduct. Likewise, he will not lay a finger on me.' Especially since deep down, the wizard must know that he had been in the wrong. 'I will take my leave of you, but I invite you to ponder this also: I know Gandalf could not have done this deed alone. I know that his accomplice most likely lives in this house and works under your orders. And Durin's Folk does not forget the names of those who wronged us.'

They do not support the darkness. It was the only reason he had not drawn steel yet. But when all this was over and when the threat had been defeated, there would be a reckoning.

With this, he took Beth's arm and as gently as he was able, led her outside.

He would not be leaving Rivendell for a while yet.

Do bear in mind that Thráin is extremely prejudiced and that what he thinks Elrond says is not necessarily what Elrond means.

If you've missed it, I've uploaded a chapter in Duly Noted about Elvaethor and his motivations last Wednesday. If you want to know more about him, please go and take a look.

So far I've introduced a lot of original characters and I dearly hope I have avoided the dreaded Mary-Sue. I'd love to get some feedback on that, if you've got a minute to spare. Are there characters that don't feel real or believable or am I doing okay so far? Do you have favourites?

Also, a quick thank you to the Guest reviewer. I can't respond to you by PM, but I wanted you to know I'm grateful that you took the time to review.

Next time: Beth meets dwarves and Dwalin brings some bad news to Erebor.

Thank you very much for reading. Reviews would be enormously appreciated.