Lothiriel took a hurried bath, her nerves so taxed, so overwhelmed by her conversation with Lord Elrond, that she was quite unable to enjoy the opulence of the Elven dwelling. The water was warm and fragrant with some essences; and many luxuries were provided to her; but she felt bedraggled and no less apprehensive stepping out of the bath chambers. A set of clothes had been prepared for her, and placed on a large wide bed - a garment of silvery green, which fit her perfectly. The bed, meanwhile, looked so inviting that the Princess sighed wistfully.
She got dressed, and started on the breakfast she'd found on a table by the window. That would be her second breakfast, to think of it. She'd pinched a bit of bread and cheese while Lady Wren and Lord Thorin had been conversing with the Grey Wizard.
Once she was sated, she rose and stepped out onto the balcony. She was worried she would fall asleep if she remained in the comfort of her chamber, even on a chair.
The air was fresh and aromatic; and she looked around. Water ran freely through the Elven abode; and Lothiriel's heart clenched at the memories of her home. She felt a yearning for the stern and grey waters around her city; for the rocks and the white foam of waves - and then a thought of her Father came. She had not left a note explaining her departure, worried he would try to send men to stop her. She had considered sending a letter to him from the road, but it never came to it.
Remorse filled her heart. As harsh and austere as he could be with her sometimes, she knew he loved her dearly. To think of it, until she met her present companions, she had never questioned the lack of warmth in the relations between the people around her. Men were to be warriors, cold and astringent. Women were to submit, and care for children. She had considered her own life - richer in experiences, full of diplomatic travels - to be the fortune of a princess. She also knew she would have to give it up when time to wed came for her.
Lord Thorin was nothing like her Father; although he had seemed so at the beginning to her. He was obviously an experienced warrior, the leader of his people, authoritative, and sometimes rigid. With time, though, Lothiriel saw quite a different side of him. He was a strangely affectionate husband for Lady Wren; his behaviour more logical in a suitor - and an exceptionally young one. He was warm and jolly with Aglahad. To put it simply, before meeting him Lothiriel had not known that sentiment and affection, sincere, and shown openly, could be anything but a sign of weakness. And yet, Boromir treated the Dwarf with utmost respect, and sometimes even admiration. Aglahad was as much as following him around, throwing him adoring looks.
Lady Wren was of course like no other woman Lothiriel had ever met; but the Princess knew that women were sometimes born temperamental. It would be their upbringing and their marriage that were to teach them to curb the said temperament. No such thing seemed to have happened to Lady Wren's firm judgement, sharp tongue, and lively disposition. More so, it seemed, these qualities were very much to her husband's liking.
Lothiriel shortly wondered what the children of the couple were like. She asked herself whether all Dwarven children were brought up loved and cherished so openly and outwardly as Lady Wren and Lord Thorin seemed to.
"My lady, it is time of the council," a melodic voice called to her; and she turned. A young Elf stood on the stairs leading to her balcony, his face polite and considerate.
Lothiriel suppressed the desire to run back into the room and hide. As many diplomatic missions as she had conducted, she felt utterly out of place in her current circumstances. Her own position, what was to be said, and what was to come - nothing was known to her.
She walked a long passage following the Elf.
"Lothiriel, my child, wait!" Lady Wren's voice rang from behind; and Lothiriel felt a wave of relief.
A familiar face was most welcome at the moment.
She turned and saw Lady Wren accompanied by two Dwarves, one male, another female. Lothiriel found herself lost for words. Just a few minutes ago she had been wondering what the children of her travel companions would be like - and now, seeing them in front of her, she could not quite wrap her mind around them.
The woman looked Dwarven, and bore the astonishing likeness to her father. She had the same distinct features, dark wavy hair in an elaborate do, and an haughty bearing. Her eyes were dark brown, but the expression - slightly arrogant, keen, and attentive - was the same. She was clad in a heavy, dark burgundy dress, embroidered with gold and red gems. In her ears, around her wrists and her fingers gold glimmered, in heavy and imposing jewellery.
The man was taller, perhaps even taller than his Father. He had a long narrow nose, and most mesmerizing slanted eyes just like his Mother's, green and hazel mixed in the irises. His build and the features were more delicate than those of the Dwarves Lothiriel had seen but still he was wider and shorter than Men. He was also the most enthralling man she had ever seen! Something about his high-cheekboned face - perhaps the mixture of some otherworldly wisdom and wonder; or the smile playing on the curved lips, the line the same as his Father's - or maybe the fluid gracefulness of every movement would not let Lothiriel tear her eyes off him.
"My children, this is Princess Lothiriel, daughter of Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth," Lady Wren introduced; and the man bowed, while the woman nodded. "And these are Princess Unna, daughter of Thorin, son of Thrain; and my son, Prince Dain."
Prince Dain bowed again, while the Dwarven Princess turned to her mother.
"I shall go ahead. Perhaps, our kin need to be prepared for the meeting, namad." A slightly sardonic smile hid in her voice. "Lord Gloin is hardly a young man now. Perhaps, the shock of seeing his King and Queen, back from the dead and embarrassingly youthful, would prove too much."
Lady Wren laughed softly, and gently smacked her daughter's shoulder.
"You are as mouthy as your brothers. Go, run, my kitten."
The words were pronounced quietly, probably to save the princess' dignity; but Lothiriel had caught them. She cowardly looked aside, pretending to be unaware.
"I have a few words to exchange with Princess Lothiriel before we are summoned to the council," Lady Wren added, and wrapped her arm around Lothiriel's.
Prince Dain lingered; and the three of them stepped in a nook. The Elf accompanying Lothiriel stayed behind, giving them privacy.
Lothiriel looked down at the red-haired woman. She was now dressed in an Elven dress as well. Her hair were put away in a simple yet elegant do, in a few thick braids. She looked fresh, rosy-cheeked, and as she just said 'embarrassingly youthless.' If Lothiriel did not know of the woman's true age and stature, she could easily mistake Lady Wren for a simple town girl for some reason dressed in a silver silk dress.
"Lothiriel," the redhead started softly. "My children have come to Imladris, bringing alarming news from our kin in the Misty tidings in our home, in the Kingdom of Erebor, seem to bode darkly as well."
She then looked at her son, who was now frowning, his eyes lowered.
"It is hard to predict what will be discussed at the council of Lord Elrond, and what the conclusions of it are going to be," Lady Wren continued in a tense tone. "I cannot judge… but I feel you need to be assured of one thing. Whatever your future path is, I am willing to share it with you."
Lothiriel looked at the smaller woman in shock.
"Now that the ill news from Moria and from Erebor reached us, my husband feels that our return to the world of the living had had something to do with the latest events in those two places..." The woman shook her head. "I cannot explain it but I just cannot bring myself to agree with him. We have returned on the shores of Dol Amroth. We have saved your life. I feel certain we are connected to it, bound to your fate. I do not wish to part with you until it is clear what this fate is and what role we are to play in it."
Lothiriel felt a surge of gratitude towards the woman who was willing to antagonize her husband and disregard the mysterious calamities that had befallen her people for Lothiriel's sake - but still, she did not share the woman's assurance.
"Perhaps, saving me was your purpose," she offered in a small voice.
Lady Wren shook her head again.
"I am sure there is more to it. Do not ask me to explain it. I have no answers," Lady Wren said.
"Perhaps, we should just wait for what we hear at the council, amad," her son said softly. "We seem to have only one sort of pieces for this mosaic. Like those blue ones Othin always picked out of the box we played with as children. Without the reds and the greens, the picture was incomplete." He laughed. "He just could never grasp the idea that he could not make a landscape with only the Durin's blue."
Lothiriel threw him a flabbergasted look. The story was, to her taste, childish and sounded odd coming from a Dwarven warrior. Lady Wren's smiled, though; but then her face dropped again.
"I wonder if I will see him again..." she whispered.
"Mahal is merciful, Mother," the man said, and leaned in, pressing his lips to her cheek. "You will introduce our new sibling to Othin, I am sure of it."
Lothiriel looked between them, not understanding, and saw Lady Wren blanche and her lips part.
"How did you know?" the redhead gasped.
"So my guess was correct then." Prince Dain laughed. "I do share your gift, Mother; though only its inward part. None of the golden glow… but I do see just a tad more than an average Dwarf." He threw a mischievous side glance at Lothiriel. "Or Man and Elf for that matter."
A conjecture sprang in Lothiriel's mind - and she peered at Lady Wren's stomach. Nothing of course could be seen yet. The silk lay flat on the woman's thin frame.
"Are you with child?!" she asked, knowing the answer, but unable to refrain from the exclamation. "How are you… to aid me, in this quest or otherwise then? You need to stay safe, to go home!"
Lady Wren's face grew cold and, as it seemed to Lothiriel, defensive; but Prince Dain laughed again.
"There is much you do not know about my Mother, my lady. Among other things, she becomes an even more formidable opponent when expecting. It seems that the blood of Thorin Oakenshield mixed into hers amplifies her powers tenfold."
"What does Lord Thorin think of it?" Lothiriel asked the redhead demandingly, ignoring the man's words.
"Lord Thorin does not get to..." Lady Wren started in a prickly voice, but then shook her head. "It matters not at the moment. Dain is right. We should see what the council brings first."
Lady Wren stepped out of the alcove and started walking away.
"Shall we, my lady?" Prince Dain said, and made a wide inviting gesture.
Lothiriel took a shuddered breath and followed the red-haired woman. While they walked the passage, a single clear bell rang through Rivendell, inviting its guests to the council of Elrond.