Chapter 13:
Gandalf led on, telling them all to be quiet and that he, Gandalf, would be the spokesperson of the Company. Gandalf led on right to what seemed to be a veranda. A dark haired elf quickly came down the stairs to meet them.
"Ah, Lindir!" Gandalf smiled. "We come seeking Lord Elrond."
"Welcome Mithrandir!" Lindir greeted. "But Lord Elrond is not here right now."
Suddenly, the sound of horse's hooves on the pavement caused the dwarves to turn round. A dark haired elf with bright armor led in a host of elf with spears right up to the dwarves.
"Close ranks!" Thorin shouted and pulled Kili and Mara behind him.
"Welcome, Thorin, son of Thror, son of Thrain," The new elf greeted.
"How do you know me?" Thorin growled.
"You have your grandfather's baring," Elrond answered. "I knew him when he was King Under the Mountain."
"He never spoke of you."
"Thorin, please," Gandalf pleaded. Turning to Elrond, they began conversing in Elvish, so their words were lost on the dwarves.
"What do they say?" Gloin demanded. "Do they offer insult?"
"No, Gloin," barked Gandalf. "He offers you food."
Gloin had the grace to slightly sheepish. "Well, in that case, lead on!"
"Wait!" Kili called out. "Mara needs help!" He looked up the elf-lord before him with pleading eyes as he stepped forward. Elrond quickly turned to the girl he carried.
"You did well to leave the orc blade there," he commented. "Lindir," he called to his assistant. "Carry her to healing houses. I will tend to her myself." Lindir carefully relieved Kili of his burden.
"Please take care of her," the young dwarf quietly pleaded. "She is very special to me—to us."
"I will as careful with her as if she were of my own kin," Lindir promised.
"I will go with you," Thorin announced.
"It would be better if you stayed with your men," Elrond answered.
"I would see that that a member of my Company is treated well."
"That is not necessary," Elrond replied. "I will be seeing to her treatment myself." He did not like extra people hanging around when he worked on a patient.
Thorin finally lost his patience. "Mara is as a daughter to me!" he cried. "I will not be separated from her."
Silence reigned. Thorin glared up the elf that wanted to keep him from his Mara. It had taken seeing her wounded in Kili's arms for him to realize that she was every bit as precious to him as his nephews, whom he loved as sons. The very thought of her dying was—was—unbearable.
"I understand your concern," Elrond finally said. "I myself have a daughter. However, you will do yours no service by hovering about while she is being treated," He firmly stated. "I will tend her wound and bring you word again, I swear it."
Grudgingly, Thorin nodded. He went to Mara and took her hand for a moment. "I will come to you as soon as I am able."
Mara, who was still drifting in and out of consciousness, mumbled a very quiet "'kay."
Thorin looked up at the elf. "It would be best if she were tended by a lady; she does not have a very good past with unknown males." Linder nodded before rushing her off to the Healing Houses. Elrond motioned the Company into what appeared to be a study.
"You can make yourself at home here, Gandalf?" he asked, a faint smile gracing his face.
"Don't I always?" Gandalf teasing replied. With a nod to the dwarves, Elrond swept out to change out of his armor.
An hour later, a blonde female elf came and led them onto another veranda were a long dining table was spread out for them. Elrond swept in, now wearing elegant brown robes, and invited them to sit and eat.
"How is Mara?" Thorin immediately asked as he sat next to Gandalf at the head of the table.
"She well, Master Dwarf," Elrond said. "She is a very compliant patient. I have cleansed and bound her wound; thankfully the blade was not poisoned, but merely a bit rusty. I put a salve on her wound to insure that infection does not set in."
Thorin breathed a sigh a relief. "Where is she now?" Kili and Fili asked.
"She is still in the healing houses," Elrond explained. "She lost much blood and is still very weak. My best assistant, Elenmir, is making sure young Mara eats. Afterward, I have instructed her to give Mara a sleeping draft to insure that the girl will sleep. A good, long sleep will do wonders for her healing."
Thorin gave Elrond a deep nod. "I am in your debt, Lord Elrond."
The dinner was served, and, much to the dwarves' disgust, it mostly consisted of fruit, cheese and salad. While the most of the Company tried (or did not try at all, in the cases of Dwalin and Gloin) to eat the meal before them, Gandalf, Elrond, and Thorin discussed the map to Erebor that Thror had left to Thorin.
"We will be able to read it in three days' time," Elrond explained to Thorin. "The ithilien I remember being used on this map was of a kind that only could be seen on one day a year, the day it was written on."
"I see,"
"I will set aside apartments for you and your Company to rest here until you have the information you seek," Elrond said, turning to Lindir. He gave the younger elf what seemed to be a stream of orders before Lindir bowed and left.
About fifteen minutes later, Lindir returned and led the dwarves to apartment with a central open common area that opened onto its own balcony and had several bed rooms and a wash room attached.
"Would it be possible to see Mara tonight?" Thorin asked Elrond.
"She will asleep until morning," the elf answered. "I will take you to her then."
"Very well," Thorin answered and entered the apartment set aside for them.
All though there were bedrooms, the dwarves ended up camping out in the common area, building a campfire and everything. Thorin took out his pipe, filled and lit it before sitting back against one of the columns that held up the ceiling on the wall that led outside. He took several slow puffs, mulling over the day's events, most notably concerning Mara.
He had claimed Mara as his own before all the Company and to a stranger. He was not ashamed in the least, but he knew that the others may have something to say against it. Mara was not a dwarrowdam; she was not one of their own people. They did not even really know where she was from. However, Thorin's heart was decided; if he could, he would adopt her as his daughter.
"So, Thorin," Balin finally spoke up. "That was quite a claim ye made earlier, lad." Speaking of which. "Care to enlighten us?"
"It is simple," Thorin answered, turning to the older dwarf. "I have grown to love the girl as my own kin. When we have taken Erebor, I wish to adopt her as my daughter." The Company's faces went slack with wonder.
"Well," Dwalin was first to overcome his shock. "Ye won't have any dissention here, but ye know ye will have trouble convincing the councils in the Blue Mountains and the Iron Hills to allow it."
"Oh, Dain won't care; he'd probably be for it, in fact," Balin inserted.
"No, Dain won't mind, but the Council likely will," Dwalin replied.
"Too true," Dori nodded.
"Council?" asked Bilbo. "What's a council got to do with anything?"
"When someone as important as a king wishes to do something like adopting a person into his family, the dwarf councils as well as the rulers of each dwarf kingdom must agree to let him." Balin explained.
"Well, that's ridiculous!" Bilbo said. "As if it's any of their business. In the Shire, if we want to adopt someone, we just announce it for all the Shire to hear, for lack of better terms."
"Well, since what king does affects everyone in some way, it is important that everyone at least knows what's going on." Bofur quipped.
"Be that as it may," Balin said. "The only truly importantly thing is this: Thorin, lad, do you care about her? You say you hold her as close to your heart as flesh and blood kin?"
"Yes." Thorin's answer came without any hesitation.
"Good; that's all that matters to me," Balin smiled fondly at Thorin. "Personally, I thought it was about time you owned up to it."
"What?"
"Thorin, if ye didn't care about the lass, ye wouldn't have given her your own shirt to wear or covered her up in your own coat," Gloin pointed out.
"He has a point, Uncle," Fili added.
"Very well, so it was obvious to all but myself," Thorin growled and puffed on his pipe again.
"Alright, lads, leave your uncle be," Bombur admonished. "Come have some stew." He had been cooking over the fire the whole time since the elf meal had not satisfied any of them.
As the others dug into the stew Bombur made, Thorin thoughtfully puffed on his pipe and gaze out at the night sky. Thousands of stars twinkled in the vast expanse of blue-black sky, and the bright crescent moon shone just over the tree tops.
The dwarf-prince's thoughts drifted back to his girl. He prayed to Mahal that her sleep would be deep and her dreams sweet that night.