Chapter 25: Confronting the Elves

That night they set up camp, and Grace went out to try and find some berries. Thorin refused to let her go alone, but she promised to stay close by. Then she heard scuffling and ran back to find their supplies strewn about. Dwarves by and large were not quiet creatures, and she always before heard them talk, eat, and snore even from hundreds of yards away. They were gone. She walked around with her swords alight looking for clues of their whereabouts.

There are other footprints here. Many and with a light step. They were taken. She sniffed the air and smelled cinnamon and honey. And I know by whom.

As she tracked them, she thought of each of her friends and worried for their safety. When she thought of Thorin, her heart cramped in her chest. She stopped for a moment in surprise as a rush of tears flooded her eyes.

Is this love? Is this what he feels for me?

She grew pensive while remembering all that he had told her and let her see in his heart.

He is brave to share his heart so freely. She had never understood before what it had cost him to feel what he did without any hope of it being returned as fully, and she felt new respect and admiration for him. It takes a truly courageous heart to be weak in front of the one you love.

As dawn broke, she threw her hood over her head and held her swords out in front of her. The movement was so slight that she barely heard it, but it was enough to put her on her guard.

"I know you are there," she said, "so come out slowly. I am armed and will defend myself if need be."

An elf with long, white-blond hair wearing woodland green stepped from behind the tree several yards away. He was more beautiful than handsome; tall and lithe with clear blue eyes and elegance of movement. His bow was drawn, his arrow aimed at her heart.

"Who are you and what do you do here?" he asked with a light timbre. He tried to see her face, but she had pulled back into the shadows. "Step out where I can see you."

She stepped into one of the rare shafts of light in the forest as he approached with careful steps.

"An elven cloak but not an elf," he said. "Remove your hood," and he pulled his bow tight.

Grace thought on her time in Middle-earth, and she remembered Thorin's lessons on battle tactics and weighed them against her own preference for direct confrontation, and she replaced her swords.

I am done with hiding. Whether I conceal who I am or not it does not matter—the outcome's the same, and this time it will be to my advantage.

She lifted her hood off of her head, and he gasped. Keeping her hands in view, she took her golden circlet out of her pack and put it on.

"I am what your people call a Therian," she said with her chin held high, "and I am here with dwarves led by Thorin son of Thrain whom King Thranduil has taken to his palace. I am headed there now to retrieve them so that we may continue on our way."

He stared as if in a trance and then leaned his bow against the tree trunk and bowed with the customary grace of the elves.

"I am Legolas, son of Thranduil," he said, "and I mean you and Thorin Oakenshield no harm."

Can you talk to me in my mind as can Lady Galadriel and Lord Elrond?

So you have met them then?

She smiled, and he felt his heart warm.

"Take my hand, so we may understand each other," she said holding out hers. He took it like he was holding a precious gem.

Legolas saw everything that had happened to her and the dwarves since she came to Middle-earth and wondered at how she came to be there. He marveled at her powers when he relived the destruction of the goblin lair through her eyes. He had seen dwarven courting braids in her hair and realized that it was Thorin Oakenshield himself who had put them there. He did not share his next thoughts.

So he claims her for himself. Impossible. They head to Erebor to reclaim what was theirs, what was Thorin Oakenshield's. Our one-time allies who we left to burn and starve.

"You cannot go to Erebor," he said. She could not understand what awaited her there. She was too innocent and trusting, and he feared for her. She had already faced too many obstacles, and his father was yet another.

"My lady, I am not like my father who I know has something that sometimes resembles Thror's sickness, a greed for wealth and power. I see in your mind Thorin's grief at what this greed has done to his family, and I share his pain for what it has done to mine. I was not able to convince my father to aid the dwarves when they were in need, but had it been my decision we would have fought with them to the death."

Grace rushed to embrace him. He was startled but steadied himself and held her close. Holding her head against his chest, he permitted himself a moment's regret that he had little chance of winning her heart.

"I will be most honored if you would consider me your friend, my lady, and I will do what I can to speed you all on your way."

She confided in him her plan of action and recommended that he not involve himself.

"I will not have you at odds with your father to no purpose," she said. "I believe that all will be accomplished if I alone am the adversary. Perhaps later you can help your father see reason since something is wrong in this land and will need all people of goodwill to fight it."

Legolas nodded in agreement.

"We also have felt the creep of evil," he said. "It grows daily but will not reveal itself."

She looked up and around, trying to find when she felt pressing in on her.

"I have felt this before," she said, "when I was fighting with my kin in my realm, but I did not expect to feel it here," and she told him of her encounter with He Who Turned. He clenched his jaw, and they felt the growing chill. Then she looked into Legolas' eyes.

"I know that Thorin is still very angry with the elves for not coming to the aid of his people when the dragon came," she said, "but I will do my best to help him see reason as you do your father."

"Do you love him, my lady?" Legolas asked, but then he shook his head. "I do not require an answer; I already know what you will say."

She put her hand on his arm.

"I believe I do," she said, "but my heart is not so small that I cannot love my friends as well."

He smiled at her and, as they ran through the forest, Legolas told her where the dwarves were being held and where to find the front gate.

"I will be at hand should you have need of me," he said as the neared the front entrance, "and now I bid you farewell." He bowed and melted into the forest.

As the sun rose higher in the sky, Grace took off her clothes, boots, and cloak and stuffed them into her pack. She had her armor on underneath, and when she was ready she ran until she saw a wide path lined with healthy straight oak trees that soared above the ground and made a canopy with the last of the autumn leaves. The air smelled fresh and clean, and the trees ended at a bridge to the base of a small mountain. Large curved oaken doors led inside the mountain, and sentries dressed in green and brown armor and holding bows at the ready stood out front.

She walked up calmly to the sentries.

"I would see King Thranduil immediately," she said to them.

They looked at her in shock, but one reflexively asked, "And whom shall we say wishes to see him?"

She smiled. "A Therian," she said.

The elven king shifted on his ornate throne made of carved stone and enormous elk antlers. He tapped his fingers against his mouth while he waited for her to be admitted. Tall and of an unearthly beauty, he was wore a crown of twisted vines and small red branches. He was dressed in robes of gray and silver silk. Unlike Legolas, his expression was somewhat condescending, and he held his own counsel after his sentry approached his throne with an impossible request.

"A what?" he had asked when the sentry bowed before him and told him who was waiting. "That is not possible."

He dismissed the sentry and rearranged his robes. He did not doubt that someone wanted an audience but not a Therian

Grace walked down with the other guard and took note of her surroundings.

These halls do not resemble descriptions of Erebor. They are lighter and open. There is much that is flammable though. .She smiled to herself. If my guess is correct, King Thranduil may find himself needing a new throne if he is not cooperative.

The doors swung open, and she strode confidently into his open throne room, her golden glow lighting up the vaulted cavern and the jewel in her forehead blazing with light. His eyes widened for a fraction of a second, but then he adopted a lofty expression. Arching one, slim brow, he sat back on his throne and reevaluated his position.

She inclined her head as he sat unmoving, and she chuckled to herself.

I wonder what Thorin would think of my tactics?

Without making any sort of deferential gesture, she faced the elven king as an equal.

"King Thranduil, my name is Lady Grace, and I am what your people call a Therian," she said, "and I know that you are holding Thorin Oakenshield and his companions here. I wish to see him to ensure that he is well, and I further ask that you release them so that they may continue on their way."

He gave away nothing until she spoke of Durin's heir.

"And may I ask what business of this is yours, my lady?" he asked. "Surely you did not come all the way from your realm to inquire about the welfare of a dwarf?"

She took a deep breath to calm herself and walked closer to his throne, closer than had the guard earlier. Thranduil looked down and noted that she had crossed the boundary set for visitors.

"I am traveling with them," she said, matching his polite but cool tone, "and I am concerned for their welfare."

"Are you now indeed?" Thranduil asked as he took in her appearance and wondered at her motives. Crooking his finger, he beckoned the guard and ordered him to bring Thorin in. While they waited he tilted his head and took in her appearance. He had no doubt that she was what she claimed, but he could not fathom why she had any dealings with dwarves.

"And just how do you come to show yourself now when none of your kind have ever moved so openly among us?" he asked as he stroked his chin, "and why are you traveling with Thorin Oakenshield of all people."

"That is no concern of yours at present," she said, "but I will answer any question you wish when I see him and not before."

The doors swung open again, and she turned to see Thorin looking haggard with scratches and cuts on his face from being herded through the forest at night. His hands and feet were shackled, and he wore only breeches and a shirt. Her anger flared, and she struggled to keep from turning Thranduil's throne into a funeral pyre.

"Grace!" Thorin said when he looked up and saw her, and she went to him and put her arms around him. He struggled to hold her with the chains around his wrists, but he kissed her temple.

"Thank Durin you are unharmed."

Thranduil watched their obvious devotion to each other with envy, and then he noticed the braids and beads in her hair.

"Ah, yes," he said, "I believe that one of my questions is answered." He stood up, but she held out her hand.

"Do not bother to stand if you mean to appraise me like an artwork or a piece of fruit in a bowl," she said. "I have had my fill of that here."

He reassessed his strategy. Though a Therian, her behavior did not square with accounts that he had read from annals of centuries past. Thorin Oakenshield—and his lip curled at that name—must have filled her pure mind with his filth.

"You think that Thorin's obvious feelings for you are based on your merits and not your appearance?" he said with silken malice. "Dwarves have always coveted jewels and precious metals. You credit him with too much nobility, my lady, while you suspect my motives—no doubt the result of spending too much time in his company. If he had told you the truth he would have said that I sent my people armed for battle to help him and his kin and we would have if I thought that there was any chance of defeating Smaug. I did only what was best for my people when I saw that the cause was hopeless. He would have done the same in my position."

Before Thorin could speak Grace answered in his defense.

"Yes, he would have considered the risk to his people, my lord," she said. "That is the mark of any responsible leader, but then he and his people would have fought alongside you no matter the risk or the cost. That is nobility of heart, and that is why I am with him!"

Thranduil sat back nonplussed and decided on a different tactic.

"So why are you all traveling through my kingdom?" he asked with feigned nonchalance.

She looked at Thorin and touched his hand.

Trust me.

He nodded and she turned back to Thranduil.

"We are traveling to Erebor," she said.

He sat back with a smile.

"So I surmised," he said with satisfaction. "I have a claim on that treasure."

Thorin grumbled loudly, but she stepped forward.

"Oh?" she asked with mock innocence. "I was not aware that your people worked the mines alongside the dwarves."

Thorin fought to hold back a smile while Thranduil's lips twisted.

"My claim is not based on labor."

"Or perhaps the dwarves owe you for goods or services rendered in the distant past since you were certainly of no help when they needed it most," she said. Thorin turned a chuckle into a cough while Thranduil glared at him.

"No," he said, turning to Grace, "no, my claim is that the treasure is too great for anyone one people to have and so it must be shared. In addition, there are white gems of surpassing beauty that belong to me, and I would see them returned."

She snorted in disgust.

"And if the situation were reversed and you had the treasure, you, of course, would be as magnanimous?" she asked.

He smiled and held his forefinger against his lips.

"I see we will not agree on this," he said, "but if Oakenshield here will swear on his honor to leave you with me as a ward of my kingdom, I will relinquish any claim on Erebor and even speed him and his company on their way."

She paused, but Thorin did not, and he stepped in front of her.

"I do not own her, Thranduil, that I can sell or barter her," he said his voice harsh with indignation. "She goes where she wills, and it is my honor that she chooses to go with me."

Grace's affection for him was clear, but he was too angry at Thranduil to notice. She tapped Thorin on the arm and whispered for him to move away from her.

"King Thranduil," she said, "I suppose I could have rescued the dwarves through ways of my own, if I had a mind to, but I came to you openly and honestly, so in that spirit I have a counter proposal. You will provide us with ponies and supplies, and I will not destroy your kingdom, starting with your throne."

He looked down on her with a mocking smile.

"Never have I heard of a Therian doing harm," he said with a flick of his hand.

Her glow grew brighter as she looked at him with open anger.

"Have you been to the mountains lately?" she asked. His brow creased ever so slightly. "Perhaps your scouts have told you that the mountains are quiet and not a goblin can be seen. Have you ever wondered why?" She took off her pack and tossed it to Thorin. Turning to the King of Mirkwood, she burst into flames.

"Before you can run for the gates I will destroy you all!" she said, and she threw a fireball that reduced his throne to ash underneath him. He fell to the ground on his hands and knees and held out his palm in fear as she stood flaming before him. The floor beneath her began to smoke and char.

"Mercy!" he whispered.

Thorin watched his face, and his desire for vengeance faded. He turned to Grace, and fear struck his heart. Holding his hands out, he moved in front of Thranduil.

"Grace! Grace!" he cried. "Do not do this! Do not debase yourself! My heart, please!"

She saw the love for her in his eyes, and she smiled and extinguished the flames in her hands. Thranduil cowered on the floor before her, and she glanced at him with satisfaction.

"Now you will release the dwarves and provide them with ponies and supplies," she said. "You will be paid handsomely for them, although you do not deserve it. Remember, that it was Thorin who saved your life and the lives of your people today. It is because he is compassionate and honorable that you retain your kingdom and your life. Do not forget it!"

Thranduil bowed his head, unable to meet her eyes, and he left to oversee the dwarves' release and their provisions. Meanwhile, Thorin ran his hands over his face and rubbed his eyes, but when he turned to speak to her she was gone. He went to look for her around the corner but stopped when he heard voices.

"Very well-played, my lady," said an undeniably male voice. "I confess that I would have been afraid myself had I not known in advance what you were planning, and you were right about Thorin. Very well-played indeed."

"I think I even scared myself!" she said. They laughed together, and Thorin felt his ears burning as he realized that it was all an act, a ruse that she devised with someone else. He was both relieved that she was in no danger of corruption and angry to hear her talk so familiarly with someone who would surely be another admirer and perhaps opponent in combat. He leaned in to listen as jealousy took hold of his heart.

Legolas held Grace's eyes since he dared not hold her anywhere else. Thorin was close by, and he knew how protective and possessive dwarves could be, although in Grace's case he thought it justified. He knew he had no chance, but he could not bear her to leave just yet.

"When will I see you again, my lady?" he asked. "You have made an enduring mark on my heart, and I would not wish for this to be our last meeting."

She reached up and touched his cheek.

"You know where I must go, Legolas," she said, "but you are my friend and we will see each other again when all is done." He nodded and smiled, pleased that he would have a place in her life.

Thorin snorted and rounded the corner to see Legolas kissing her hand. He could not challenge the elegant elf prince because she had offered her hand to him, but his hands itched to pull out his sword and make a stand nonetheless. His anger was so fierce that he thought it might burn down the Woodland Realm, but causing new trouble would do his comrades no good, so he forced himself to calm down.

"Humph!" he said with his hands on his hips. "I regret to interrupt this tender scene, but we had best be leaving."

Grace smiled and took his hand to meet Legolas.

"Thorin, I wish for you to meet Legolas Greenleaf, son of Thranduil," she said. "He met me in the forest and helped me to find you."

Legolas bowed while Thorin glared at him.

"And how many times have you met him in the forest, might I ask?" he asked.

"Only once, my lord, when my arrow was aimed at her heart, but now I am most grateful for her friendship, and I take my leave." He bowed again and looked with longing at Grace.

"Thorin," Grace said after Legolas had left, "he is no threat to you. You have no cause to be jealous."

His brow furrowed as he thought of her and the striking elf prince together.

"If you had met him at another time might you not have been willing to let him court you?" he asked. "Sometimes I feel like the only reason I have any standing in your opinion is because I met you first."

She exhaled in frustration.

"Is that so?" she asked. "Do you think I have so little discrimination or steadfastness that I give my favor to whomever stands before me at the time? Is that what you think of me?"

"Forgive me," he said. "I was in that cell worrying for you out there alone only to find out that you have been with the son of my enemy—the very handsome son who sees stars when he looks at you. What am I supposed to think? Why should you be with me when you can have elves or men who are taller, younger, and more handsome? I am old enough to be your grandfather, you know."

She laughed. "You would be surprised if I told you how old I am," she said, "although time has no place in our realm."

"Still," he said, not willing to let her dismiss his words, "you can have anyone you want." He licked his lips like he had tasted something sour. "They are all more than willing."

Surprised by his bitter words, she stepped back and appraised his demeanor.

"Is it true then that all your words of love are based only on my appearance as Thranduil suggests?" she asked. She did not think so, but she knew that she had far to go to begin to understand him.

He scoffed and shook his head, and she smiled in relief, but he did not see it so lost was he in his own doubt and frustration.

"Of course not. "I admit that your loveliness draws me, but it is your heart and mind that hold me fast. If you were a dwarf woman of only average appearance I would still be as much in love with you as I am now."

He nuzzled her nose and clasped his hands behind her back. I love what I see in your eyes.

So why do you think it is different for me? Some are only brave or noble or clever, but to me you are all those things spread through all that you are and much more besides, but if you must know I think you very handsome, Thorin Oakenshield.

He tightened his arms around her, and she whispered in his ear.

"I am glad that we're leaving Mirkwood. I miss you combing my hair. Please don't be jealous. You are my lover. No one else."

He dropped his head in acknowledgement and relief. "I am sorry, my heart," he said, almost keeping the edge out of his voice. "I will try to be more understanding of your friends—even though most of them seem to be men."