So, since we're completely snowed in at the moment and I have nothing else to do but revise and write, I can happily upload the next chapter today already! Yay!
I should probably do a poll on "Who is the bigger ass – Thorin or Thranduil?" Anyways, I hope you'll enjoy this chapter as well and I also hope I can update again tomorrow. Not sure though.
Again, thanks for all the lovely reviews and have fun reading!
The hooded figures dismounted their horses and stepped close to the camp, the dim firelight drawing shadows on their large and slim frames. Thorin's fingers did not leave the hilt of his sword but he relaxed a little.
"Who are you?", he demanded coldly.
Bofur gasped quietly, when one of the strangers took off his hood and a beautiful, young elven face was revealed. He wore the clothes of a ranger but a large brooch in the shape of an ivy leaf gave him away as royalty.
"My name is Legolas of the Woodland Realm. I come in the name of a dwarf named Kíli and an invisible little creature that keeps him company."
The voices stirred up the other dwarves as well and when Kíli's name was mentioned, Thorin stopped in his tracks and blankly stared at the elf.
"He made it", Bofur whispered quietly. "He got to Thranduil's palace."
He quickly began nudging poor Ori, who blinked and smacked his lips quietly, looking around.
"Wha- What's going on?"
"Wake up, sleepy head! Here's something for your chronicles!", Bofur explained, getting up from his spot and causing poor Ori to topple over.
"Where is Kíli then?", Thorin snarled at the elf.
"I will explain", Legolas promised calmly. "We are here however to heal his brother. I believe that has priority."
The king of Thorin's Halls crossed his arms before his chest, watching the elves carefully. It was Bofur who led them to Fíli and Legolas' companion, a beautiful female elf and one of Thranduil's best healers, cowered down by his side and began to examine the wound. Legolas waited next to her, curiously watching the injured dwarf. There was no malice in his eyes nor spitefulness. The longer he looked at the young dwarf, the stranger his feelings became. Never before had he seen someone on the verge of death, so pale and fragile and a sudden fear crept through his body. The fear that befalls everybody, who witnesses death. He turned around, unable to watch any longer and pity dwelled up in him. Pity and the sole, honest wish that they could save the life of this unknown dwarf.
The dwarves watched warily, for none of them trusted elves enough to leave them alone with their injured heir. Strangely enough, it was Dwalin who dared to step closest, for he had been watching out over Fíli ever since he was born and he had trained him in combat and taught him everything he needed to know about battle.
"What invisible little creature was he talking about?", Nori asked quietly, leaning towards his brother.
"Don't know", Dori shrugged. "Master Baggins is small but not small enough to be invisible now, is he?"
And suddenly the dwarves took very much pride in being bigger than hobbits and they all stood tall. Thorin stepped up next to his old friend and watched as the elf tended to Fíli's wound, applying a balm and bandages drenched in herbs and lotions. She whispered quiet words in a tongue the dwarves did not understand and Thorin shot an insecure side-glance at Dwalin, who plainly shook his tattooed head.
"You still owe me an answer to my question, elf", Thorin muttered, looking up at Legolas.
"Your nephew is currently captured in the dungeons of the palace", Legolas calmly began but quickly took a few steps back when he was suddenly faced with the tip of Thorin's sword against his chest.
"Thorin!", Balin bellowed but was held back by his own brother, whose other hand was hovering above the haft of his own axe.
"The dungeons?!", Thorin thundered. "I demand him to be released immediately!"
"It is not my decision to be made", the elf tried to explain but Thorin would hear none of it.
"Is that the way Thranduil treats lone travellers now?", he snarled. "Locking them up for no good reason at all! Or is that a treatment solely for his dwarven enemies?!"
"My father has no enemies amongst the dwarves", Legolas stated but wished he hadn't only a second later, when he felt Dwalin's axe in his back as well.
"Your father?", Thorin repeated, a dangerous glint in his blue eyes.
"Thorin, this is folly!", Balin barked but did not dare to step any closer. "He has come to help us! Do you really want to repay the kindness with violence?"
"No kindness comes from elves!", the dwarven king declared, his eyes fixed on Legolas.
"And what is this then, but kindness?", Balin asked, gesturing to the elf by Fíli's side, who, even though her prince was threatened right next to her, kept on tending to the young dwarf's wounds.
"Act wisely, Thorin", Gandalf slowly remarked. "Do not endanger both your nephews at once. Help one first, then help the other."
"I shall", Thorin growled and both Gandalf and Balin knew that nothing good would come from this. "Why won't the elven prince keep us company until my nephew has been released."
Legolas stared bewildered at the dwarf. He had grown up learning his father's mistrust of dwarves and he had witnessed him set off for Erebor that day the dragon had come but he had never before believed all the gruesome tales of the Line of Durin to be true. Now however, one blade held to his chest, another in his back and facing captivity himself, he was inclined to believe his father.
In the dungeons of Thranduil's halls, Kíli meanwhile waited for the sun to rise. Bilbo had scurried off once more and the young dwarf did not know where to. He couldn't shake the feeling of being useless as he sat waiting.
The hobbit had set camp in the pantry, watching the two elven guards. They had been playing cards, merrily chatting and drinking plenty down by the hatch. By midnight, they were already drunk, singing in a language he couldn't understand and above his head he heard more singing and dancing and for once was thankful for the festive behaviour of Thranduil's kin.
He waited for another two or three hours and once the elves had fallen fast asleep, their heads on the low table and not looking so beautiful anymore, he dared to creep closer. He fumbled with the key to the dungeon cells for a while, trying to pluck it off without waking the guard and it took him a good while before he managed. Clasping it close to his chest to prevent it from jingling, he hurried back to Kíli's cell.
Kíli stared in awe when a rattling sound came from the lock of his cell and then the door suddenly swung open.
"Bilbo?"
"Hurry now. You need to be well hidden before sunrise, they may not find you!", the hobbit whispered, pulling the dwarf by his coat.
"But where do I hide?"
"You'll see. Now come along but don't make too much noise!"
"Noise? I'm quiet as a cat!", the dwarf declared solemnly and soon proved himself a liar for his loud steps nearly gave poor Bilbo one heart attack after the other. They were lucky that the elves were drunk and feasting and singing, some already passed out and fast asleep.
Kíli quietly snuck past them, following Bilbo who was still invisible but pulling the dwarf along by his coat. It felt weird but Kíli surely would not complain, for it was all thanks to Bilbo, that he had a chance to escape. He ignored the throbbing pain in his shoulder and tried his best to be silent.
By the hatch, they found a couple of empty barrels.
"There we are", he whispered.
"What, you want me to get into one of those?", Kíli asked puzzled, lifting the lid off one barrel and peering into it.
"Indeed I do. Those barrels will travel to Esgaroth by sunrise, they won't even notice you're in one of them?"
"What about you?"
"I'll be in another on. Or sitting on top of yours, we'll see", he hobbit explained happily until he noticed the pondering expression on Kíli's face.
"Why wait until sunrise though?"
"What do you mean?"
Bilbo watched bewildered as the youngster glanced down the hatch to find the raft, left by the Raft-Elves of the Mirkwood, that were up in Thranduil's halls, drinking and celebrating along with their kin. It was tied to the hatch and lazily swayed on the black waters of the Forest River.
"Come on Bilbo, you get down first!", the dwarf gestured towards the hatch.
"What, me? No! No no no, hobbits are no sailors!", Bilbo declared but did not seem to impress Kíli very much.
"Neither are dwarves but this is our way to get out."
"I- I can't even swim!", the Halfling protested.
"I'll save you, should you fall in. Now come on, get down there before they wake up!", Kíli rushed him and watched content, as the raft sunk down a little deeper and he heard the quiet thud when Bilbo landed on the rocking raft.
"I- I don't feel particularly safe right now", the hobbit muttered, watching as Kíli slowly climbed down the hatch and onto the raft.
"Where are you?", the dwarf asked and the only reply was a faint blip right next to him. Without warning, Kíli grabbed into the nothing by his side and when he got a good hold of Bilbo, he lifted him up to the hatch to untie the raft.
"I still don't think this is a very good idea", the hobbit murmured but quickly untied the shaking wood.
When they cast off, the moon was still shining above the woods and no elf suspected anything. The music of their harps was echoing down to the dwarf and the hobbit on the raft, the lights of Thranduil's halls reflected on the water and when they looked up at the mountain, they both beamed with joy for they had made it.
Just in that same moment that Kíli was floating into freedom, Fíli opened his eyes.
The world was blurry and dark with light patches and he did not know where he was or how he got there but as the familiar voices became clearer and the haze faded slowly, he realised that he was lying underneath a starry sky. He heard crickets chirp and the silent talk of his companions.
A slurred face appeared above him and it was the weird shape of his hat that gave Bofur away before his features became clear.
"Finally amongst the livin' again, are we?", he smiled down at the prince. "How are you feelin' lad?"
Fíli couldn't reply but began to cough instead, stirring Thorin who immediately forgot about the elf and rushed to his nephew's side.
"Fíli! Thank Durin", he sighed, gently brushing a strand of blond hair from his face. "You're awake."
"He will need some quietness and plenty of sleep now", the healer calmly explained and quickly glanced over to Legolas.
The elven prince stood by the fire, too proud to sit and Dwalin and Bifur were guarding him. His hands had been bound but he refused to show any dismay or fear. Instead, he stood tall, his blond hair shining in the moonlight and he carried an expression on his beautiful face that reminded Thorin of Thranduil.
"You indeed helped for once", Thorin growled at him. "Or so it seems. We shall have to wait and see until he is much better."
"Thorin, please", Balin muttered but was entirely ignored.
"Bofur, bind her hands as well. Once we know that Fíli is better, she will be released and send to Thranduil to deliver a message", the king mercilessly declared and settled down comfortably by Fíli's side. The youngster had listened quietly but couldn't yet comprehend what was going on.
"I'm sorry, lass", Bofur muttered as he bound the elf's hands together and led her to Legolas. He watched Thorin carefully and he surely wasn't the only one who disapproved of their king's behaviour. Balin, Ori, Dori, Nori and Bombur did not seem all too happy with the captured elves and Gandalf refused to speak a single word to the king of Thorin's Halls until he had returned to his senses.
Stubborn as Thorin was however, also blinded by hate that nobody could really explain, he saw nothing wrong in his behaviour and believed it to be the best for his kin. He carefully cleaned some sweat off his nephews face, feeling the heated skin slowly cooling down again.
"You will be well soon enough", he mumbled.
"Kíli", Fíli whispered croaky. "Where's Kíli?"
Thorin's face turned grim and he shot a nasty look towards the elves.
"He will be well again too."