Author's Note: Happy new year to you all! May 2018 be the year all your dreams come true! A big thank you to Guest45 for their review! Now, on with the story!

Chapter twenty-five: Loud maiden

It had been a long time since she had thought of the years she had spent in Lothlórien as an Elfling. When Celebrían had still been alive, they would often visit the Lady's former home; Ardhoniel had fond memories of running through the many gardens of Caras Galadhon, racing from flet to flet with the local children, and swimming in the natural pools that lay just beyond the city borders.

In one of her moments of childish folly and extreme hard-headedness, she had decided she'd wanted to be a warrior and so Celebrían, who had had the foresight to not waste too much resources on what was going to be just another passing fancy, had signed her up for a weaponry class with some of the local youth.

As her mother had predicted, soon the initial thrill of wielding weapons – most of which were just wooden replicas – wore off and boredom had set in. And so, to pass the time and to make herself feel a little better about once again being bested at something, she had started playing jokes. Most of the time, the victim of her little pranks had been her weaponry teacher, Master Orophin, but at times she had also targeted the other children.

At times, she would offer to collect the arrows just to move the practice targets back by a couple of feet each round. Then, at others, she would remove the fletchings from the arrows and put them in the backs of the tunics of the other students when they were not looking. She even remembered once arriving at the crack of dawn to steal Orophin's large practice sword and replace it with a much smaller one. She remembered he had been particularly angry about that prank, and so she had blamed it on Aglaron, who'd happened to be closest by at the time. With her record for causing trouble, however, she hardly believed it to have been believable in hindsight.

Needless to say, she had spent about as much time on her training as on her pranks, and at the end of the second year, she had accepted her dagger with the rest of the youth – and had then run off to become a Healer for the next half a year.

Despite her own restlessness – and perhaps because of it – she had always enjoyed the tranquil beauty of Lothlórien. However, when Celebrían had died, so had any desire to be in the city her mother had so dearly loved. Ardhoniel had not returned there ever since.

Up until now, she had not really considered the destination of their journey – pushing it ahead as she clung to the past. Yet, she had no doubt there had to be a reason behind her returning to the Golden Wood after all these years; more than just the safety of the roads. However, Ardhoniel had little hope of finding it out what that reason may be, as the one person with access to such knowledge proved to be the one person that was avoiding her presence like the plague.

Despite her vows, Ardhoniel had no luck in finding out more about the mysterious Captain Aglaron, as he proved to be quite resistant to her many attempts at making polite conversation. In fact, it appeared that with each attempt she made at pleasantries, the Ellon became more closed-off – up to the point where he had gone as far as instruct one of the guards to keep her company (of course all for her own good, for he "did not wish for the Lady to feel lonely").

The guard in question, it turned out, had only been assigned to her post two years ago, and the current mission was her very first journey outside of the woods of Lothlórien. As a consequence, she was inherently curious about anything and everything; most particularly about Ardhoniel's travels with the Dwarves of Erebor it soon became evident, once Ardhoniel assured her it was all right to ask questions. In hindsight, she almost wished she hadn't, if only because some of the topics the young Elleth touched on were still very sore.

'Is it true Dwarves do not wash themselves?' Bruihel inquired on one of the following days, as they stopped by the banks of the Anduin for lunch and a chance of freshening up.

'It is not,' Ardhoniel negated before she splashed some cool water in her face. Then, she continued with a contemplative frown, 'Although I think it is fair to say they definitely care less for personal hygiene than we do. Or for privacy for that matter. I recall the maids in Imladris whispering about catching them bathing in one of the fountains… naked.' Looking from the corner of her eye, Ardhoniel was pleased to see the younger Elleth's ears had turned red in scandalisation, her mouth hanging slightly open. She could just imagine Bofur's boisterous laugh at the sight.

'Of course, while I was with them, they were always quite covered,' she hastily added, before the young female's mind could run away with this new information. At the same time, her own mind returned to the one occasion in which she had found Thorin in not so covered a state.

Although Elves generally feel no shame about their own body, they do not flaunt it either, and so Ardhoniel had only ever seen the naked torso of Elladan and Elrohir when they'd been put up to the task of bathing her when she was still a very small Elfling. That being as it was, Ardhoniel had little in ways of comparison, yet she remembered feeling, among the chaos of all else that had been going on at the time, pulled in by Thorin's… physical appeal.

Looking back, she supposed he had always held a certain attractiveness, even with his clothes on – and she found herself immensely glad for not realising it until now. If there was one thing that could have complicated their relationship even further, it would have been her ogling the grouchy Dwarven King.

When the sun began to set, camp was set up in the usual fashion, and so with little else to do, she drifted off towards the river bank to fill her water skin.
As she straightened, Ardhoniel gazed out across the water. On the other side, there was a large grove that grew up to about thirteen feet from the river bank, the sinking sun allowing the trees to throw a long shadow over the water slowly rushing by.

There was a natural crossing and the current was not so strong as it had been up-stream, and she considered offering to hunt for some fresh meat. Truth be told, however, she already knew the answer and so, after checking the stop on her skin, Ardhoniel returned to the camp.

After getting a portion of the evening meal, Bruihel settled on the ground next to her. She sipped from her spoon carefully for a bit, then when it was apparently to her taste, she started spooning the food into her mouth. It was the longest Ardhoniel had ever known the young Elleth to be silent.

In contrast, Ardhoniel had still hardly touched her dinner, her gaze – not for the first time – drawn to Captain Aglaron as he collected his own bowl.

'He doesn't seem to like you much either.'

Bruihel looked confused for a moment, 'Who, Aglaron? What makes you say that?'

'He appointed you as my nanny; that must mean you have done something wrong in his eyes.'

Bruihel surprised her by shrugging her shoulders, before taking another spoonful of stew. 'I am the most inexperienced among the company, there is no shame in that. Everyone has their own duty and I think it makes sense I was the one who got to watch you.'

Overthinking her words, Ardhoniel was surprised by their wisdom. Before she could continue her line of questioning about a certain Captain, Bruihel stood from her spot, dusting off her breeches.

'That being said, I do need to help with the dishes; being the youngest and all. Anyways, you get some rest. It's another two days until we reach the northern border of the Golden Wood; you will need your strength.'

Thorin had been leaning his head against his pulled up knees, mind desperately trying to recall how much days had passed since they had arrived – how much days had been wasted in this dark place – when two guards stopped in front of his cell. To say he was surprised would have been a lie, for he knew the Elven King would try to break him again sooner or later, so when they opened the door and informed him that Thranduil wished to speak to him, he simply nodded. As they traversed the many stairs and hallways to the throne room, the Dwarf quietly relished in the feeling of getting to stretch his legs again; they had grown stiff and sore in the small confinements of his cell. He did not want to think about what that meant for the remainder of their journey – and instead found himself inadvertently hoping that there would still be one.

When they arrived at the throne room, Thranduil was already seated – his equally arrogant son for once nowhere in sight. 'You may leave,' the Elven King directed the guards once they had guided Thorin to the base of the throne.

Once they were alone, he continued, 'Many days have passed since last we met, Thorin Oakenshield. Summer is fading and still you are here, in my dungeons, unwilling to accept my offer of help. I wonder why that is.'

Thorin did not grace him with an answer, instead raising his chin slightly and looking to one side.

Much to his aggravation, Thranduil rose from his throne, drawing nearer and circling him like a vulture. Despite knowing that such fears were preposterous, for a moment he felt like the Elven King was trying to look into his mind.

'Her betrayal has hurt you, more than just because of your wounded pride.' Thranduil stated from behind him, then, from even closer to his ear, 'You cared for her, did you not?'

Thorin stiffened at his words, gritting his teeth. 'Do not speak to me of betrayal, you who turned your back on my people when they came to you for help! Abrâfu shaikmashâz!'

Just like that, his arms were clasped tightly by two new guards that had seemingly appeared out of thin air. While vainly struggling against their grip, Thranduil stepped in front of him, his face dangerously cold as his eyes locked with his.

'I have been very courteous to you and your company so far, Thorin Oakenshield. Given you food, drink, a place to sleep on. I wonder what deprivation of such luxuries would do to your company; what they might be willing to tell me in exchange for a bit of food or a sip of water. Think about that the next time you choose to insult me in my own halls.'

With those words still echoing between the high walls of the throne room, Thorin was dragged away.

A hand on her shoulders shook her violently and as Ardhoniel came to, it was to the sound of loud shouting. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she recognised Bruihel sitting on her haunches in front of her. 'Get up, quickly!'

'Wha- What is going on?' She said, as she got to her feet somewhat dazedly. The moon was still high in the sky, and most of the company was by the river side, fighting against what appeared to be grim shadows.

'Wolves,' Bruihel responded simply, the word causing Ardhoniel's neck hair to stand on end. 'They crossed the river and surprised Rínel, who was on guard.'

Looking around her, Ardhoniel spotted the sole dark-haired Elf in the company. She sat but a few feet away, one hand holding a rapidly reddening cloth to her upper arm as she stared off towards the battle. Wounded arm hanging limply by her side.

'… under control, but we need to move.'

'Is she going to be all right?'

'Yes, yes, she will be fine, it is but a flesh wound. Now hurry, grab your bow and let's go!'

'But we need to help them!'

'No,' Bruihel insisted, her voice stern as she thrust the bow into the other Elleth's hands. 'Aglaron will handle it. I was ordered to get you out of here; now come on!'

Her mind finally catching up to the situation at hand, Ardhoniel slung the bow around her back and grabbed her half-packed rucksack before the duo disappeared silently, and quite easily against the loud backdrop of battle, into the night.

~ Abrâfu shaikmashâz! = You descendant of rats!

Author's Note: A small note on the title of this chapter: "Loud maiden". This is both in reference to Ardhoniel when she was younger (and perhaps still is) and to Bruihel, whose name literally means Loud/Noisy maiden. I think the two show some similarities, but also diverge on very important points. What are your thoughts?