Aleks could have wept tears of relief, but he was too bloody tired. He dismounted with the air of a man set loose from a life sentence and tottered towards the big guy, borrowed elvish horse – he'd dubbed him Socks – clopping along behind with his head low.
Beorn had received his message.
"Ah, Little Brother," the skin-changer greeted, leaving a roaring fire to welcome them. That he'd been anticipating their arrival was plain for he had sustenance and a campsite all prepared. "I have been waiting for you…" His words trickled off when he spotted Daphne slumped before Belegon. The towering man stole her away before the blond-haired elf could do more than squawk.
Aleks smirked through his exhaustion.
"Are you sure you're a trained protector?" Bofur asked in a mock whisper. "Because I'm thinking this is the second time you've lost your charge without putting up much of a fight."
Gloin burst into raucous laughter. The elf scowled and stalked to the fire, his bridle-less horse following obediently behind. The other guard's violet eyes narrowed in affront. Prince Caranoran watched it all with somber reserve, but his gaze never strayed from Daphne for long.
"Relax," Aleks said to Belegon. "Beorn is a friend."
"Aye, as the lad says. Very high strung, aren't you now?" Bofur said.
The elf grumbled to himself. "It is my neck upon the block should the lady be injured. Her brother, Legolas, was very clear on that point."
Aleks whipped around. Only Bifur's quick intervention saved the pompous elf from receiving Aleks's fist shoved down his throat. "I'm her brother," he snarled, his exhaustion vanishing underneath a wave of fury. "Me."
"Is that so?" Caranoran interjected with a definite chill. The silvery prince cocked one brow, his eyes at half-mast.
"Yeah, it's so," Aleks snapped.
The elf shook his long, shiny tresses – They all look like girls, Aleks ridiculed to himself – and stepped nearer, ignoring both Bifur and Bombur where they stood protectively at either side of Aleks. Gloin's big ax thumped upon the ground a few paces away, his eyes narrowed. Bombur actually hefted his borrowed mace higher.
"What claim you had no longer exists," the elf said in a low, angry voice. "Any ties severed." Aleks's vision turned red with each statement. "I was there, naiad. I was there when she ran across Middle Earth in a desperate attempt to reach the only soul upon Arda that she yet trusted after the damage you inflicted with your cruel charade."
Aleks winced. "I was wrong-"
"Wrong?" Caranoran pounced, his voice losing degrees until chilled turned into icy frigidity. "She refused to stop, did you know this? She would have fled Rivendell alone with no protection or even provisions but for Lord Glorfindel's intervention. Even with all he could do, she did not sleep. She did not eat. You attacked the very foundations of her sanity."
Aleks felt each word like a blow. Bombur's arm settled around Aleks's shoulders, the weight steadying. A staunch show of support, that one action.
"No, you are no brother. Enemy, perhaps, but no brother. That privilege has been claimed by others more willing to see to the task. Keep away from our Hwinneth, naiad. I will not warn you again."
The elf stalked off, his frame ramrod straight, and his face so tense it looked chiseled from white marble.
Aleks couldn't speak. Each breath was a harsh gasp. He squeezed his hands into fists as he tried to ride out the pain. He'd known he'd wounded her, but he never imaged it had been as bad as the picture the elf painted. No wonder Daph had latched onto these elves.
But why? Why did she ride to Mirkwood? What madness had claimed her to direct her there? Was there something she'd read that had hinted at a safe haven with the Elvenking?
…the only soul on Arda she yet trusted…
Why would she trust the Elvenking?
"Aleks?"
He turned blind eyes towards his friend. Bombur's round face was somber and marked with lines of grief. "Let it go, lad. Let it go."
Bifur patted his shoulder.
"How can I?" he managed to get past the lump in his throat. His sense of guilt grew in weight and size, heavier than any mountain. "How do I bear this?"
It was Bifur who answered. A string of Khuzdul fell from his lips, his dark eyes intent beneath the wild fall of gray-streaked, brown matted hanks of hair framing his face.
When the dwarf finished, he nodded to Bombur and the younger dwarf told him, "He says the past is behind you. He knows what it is to regret a shameful deed." A sad glint of acknowledgment appeared in Bifur's brown eyes. "To try to change the past is an act of futility. Learn from it, lad. Let it change and strengthen you. Always remember the pain it brought so you'll not be repeating it."
Aleks's eyesight wavered, and he reached out a hand to affectionately bump the dwarf's shoulder with his fist. Bifur caught the fist and closed a hand over it with tight fervor. He knew, Aleks saw. The emotions tearing him up, Bifur knew them intimately. This dwarf who so quietly set about doing what had to be done, never shirking his duties and always quick to lend aid, he'd been right here in Aleks's shoes. The trappings might be different, but the dwarf had done something shameful, too.
And he'd lived to become the awesome guy he was now.
Aleks took a deep breath. "Thanks, man."
OoOoOo
Bofur smoked his pipe as he whittled upon the ash bracelet he'd been working on for weeks now, his attention as much upon the myriad scenes engraved upon each link of the peg-hinged jewelry as it was upon the interplay between members of their party.
Bilbo kept to himself, busy devouring as much food as his neglected belly could manage. His cheeks were all puffed up like a squirrel. When their gazes met, Bofur winked at him and received a crumb-coated smile in return.
The elves, now, they were a mite bit of a different matter. Each time an elf glanced his way, Bofur grinned back cheerfully, his expression a bit vacuous. Bilbo almost choked on his food as he noticed, but to a man, the elves bought his load of goods and dismissed him as a simpleton. Rather his intent, actually. The three spoke freely before him as they moved among the horses, double checking the dwarves' care as if they knew nothing of the creatures. Each elf kept his gear close and weapons strapped in place. No sign of relaxing so much as a hair, those three.
Bofur set the bracelet upon his knee and lifted his pipe for another puff, his thoughts racing. If'n he didn't know better, a dwarf might conclude the elves had a soft spot for the dwarves' lassie. Belegon and Caranoran most certainly displayed protective natures where she was concerned, and that threw an interesting wrinkle into his plans. Plans that had solidified the instant the lass had jumped to his brother's defense.
Och, a faint-hearted lad might be discouraged, but Bofur's eyes lit with excitement. A thing worth the having is worth the fighting for, my lad, his father had oft said. His gaze flicked down to the lass curled up asleep close beside him. Beorn had set her down, and Bofur had been quick to make sure he gained the other seat opposite him. The exhausted lass had roused long enough to dress the skin-changer down quite soundly for daring to get her soused upon their last meeting before she curled up closer to Bofur. The little he'd gleaned from her complaints made him of a mind to hear the rest of the tale at some point. He could not leave his curiosity so a-thirsting, now could he?
He returned to that last panel. Each scene upon the jewelry had one aim: to make a lass laugh. Daphne needed more of that, to his way of thinking. The beloved face of the dog she'd scribbled back in Rivendell stared back up at him – or as near as never mind, given the crude sketch fate had provided him.
Ori can teach her a thing or two, there. He'd put a bug in the young scholar's ear to see it done. She loved to draw – he'd heard her declare as much – and such a kindness would only strengthen her ties to the dwarves.
And him, he freely admitted to himself with a ghost of a grin.
The lassie did not belong among the elves and their stilted formality. She could not wed one…surely. His lips turned downward. No, surely not. She belonged with those closest to her own kind, with companions who would see to it she laughed from the belly, not a polite mockery of the emotion. Elves, he thought, were too serious by spades.
The last panel. A cheeky bit, he admitted. But he knew lassies. The pup's floppy ears and brow were perfect, if he did say so himself. But what mesmerized the eye was the way the small pooch had pursed his lips in a silent kiss, his deep-set eyes full of a pleading affection a man could not match.
Was it enough?
Soon, he promised himself. I'll gain the lass's ear soon. She trusted him, and aye, that was a good beginning. She'd not looked to the Durin brothers for aid, she'd chosen him. Aye, and my kin, too. That she valued Bombur and Bifur had only raised her in his esteem. Too many a lassie had dismissed Bombur for his obvious appetite.
Just what Mib adored in her rotund husband, for sure.
Aye, we'll be taking you for our own, Daphne my lass. She fit with them. With him. Soon, he promised again. Before young Kili worked up the nerve to approach her. Not that the youngest Durin was not a decent lad, but his mold had not yet seasoned with enough age. He'd yet to grow into the dwarf he would one day become. Kili did not know himself well enough, to Bofur's mind, to pursue any lassie.
Much less a lass Bofur was almost convinced was his One. A miracle, it was, to find such a treasure, and one he'd not expected. By Aulë, he'd been stunned by this development, aye he had. He'd fancied his life would play out as it ever had, a life as a bachelor and toymaker. Not a fate he'd minded.
Before.
He rubbed one thumb over the final panel of the bracelet. He was minding now, and that quite fiercely. Sorry, my lad, but in this, it is every dwarf for himself. Though it seemed young Kili had moved on with his affections, Bofur would not take any risks.
Aleks, Bifur, Bombur and Gloin trudged over to the campfire. Bofur set the bracelet out of sight upon his lap and his pipe upon his knee, freeing up his hands to dole out the thick loaves of bread Beorn had provided. Not his favorite fare, but the toymaker had eaten his own helping at record speeds. Jerky was all good and well, but soft, cooked food surely did a dwarf good.
"Thanks, Bofur," Aleks said, his resentful gaze straying towards the elves time and again as he took his meal and seated himself upon a knot of wood Beorn had situated for just that purpose.
Bofur nodded and lifted his pipe in acknowledgment, inspecting the lad. Aleks's shoulders curved, bowing under the weight of having his own actions drawn up before him like a mirror. 'twas a good thing, to Bofur's mind. The lad had to understand the true cost of his actions so as not to repeat them. Bofur, his brother, his cousin, they'd forgiven Aleks – aye, they had – but they'd not let him become the sort who would do it again.
He'll not be repeating it, he promised himself. By Durin, Bofur would see to that. He was angry with the lad but not without sympathy. Like Thorin, he'd like a minute or two with the twins' foster father, Marcus. That one had much explaining to do.
He'll be fine, Bofur my lad, he thought to himself, gaze on the satyr. Aleks was a decent sort, recent happenings notwithstanding. He was fixing to be as brave and noble as any dwarf. His focus strayed next to Daphne. Now you, lass, don't you be giving him too hard a time before taking him back into your good graces. The twins had been through enough. He'd do all he could to see them healed and happy. By his beard, he would.
OoOoOo
"We should get moving," Prince Caranoran broached before Gloin was finished devouring his latest loaf of butter-slathered bread.
Aleks debated pulling his sword. They'd gone days with no sleep and little by way of sustenance. Elves might have the endurance of a hungry grizzly scenting blood, but the rest of them didn't.
"Moving?" Bilbo echoed with a crestfallen expression. The hobbit's dismayed eyes raced from Bofur to Gloin.
"Go?" Beorn asked. The big man rose, both big arms reaching out before him in a giant stretch. "Little Sister needs rest. So does Little Brother, Squirrel and the dwarves."
Squ-? Aleks figured the man meant Bilbo by the process of elimination, but he didn't get it. Bofur, meanwhile, fell off his log hooting.
The elves and Beorn ignored the rest of them.
Caranoran didn't seem at all cowed by the skin-changer's behemoth size, much to Aleks's disappointment. Shouldn't a dude who wears his hair like a girl be a wimp? Okay, so the elf had made a good showing for himself with the spiders, Aleks admitted. It wasn't enough to make Aleks any more inclined to like him. Interfering jerk.
"Yes, they do. However, we have already been beset by more giant spiders than any of us deemed existed in the entirety of Mirkwood."
Belegon stepped forward, his weaponry somehow not even jingling. "We've learned a necromancer rules them from Dol Guldur," the guard announced. "He emptied the old fortress. Every orc and warg that had been stationed there is now headed in this direction. Their one goal: to find and capture Lady Hwinneth. Daphne."
"We have not the numbers for a direct confrontation," Caranoran said with finality.
Aleks rubbed his tired eyes. Gloin mumbled something about cowardice, the redhead facing Mirkwood with shoulders taut. Aleks could see the elves' point. The problem was, biology couldn't care less. He and Daph were done, and Bilbo's head kept dipping downward. Even the Three Bs' energy seemed dulled.
"We won't make it," he said bluntly. "You guys may not need the sleep, but if we don't get some zzzs soon, our brains will shut down on us whether we like it or not. Besides, Daphne sent for the Brown Wizard. We have to wait for his arrival."
"That wizard is unreliable," Belegon interjected. "According to your words, you may well be asleep should the orcs find us here." The scarred elf's attention turned to Aleks's sister, his lips pursed. "We must away, the sooner the better."
Brethil piped up. "We must find a way to send word to the king that his daughter remains safe."
Aleks decided then and there that he'd heard enough of that. He stood, tempted to go satyr but knowing his temper too chancy. "He. Is not. Her. Father," he pronounced in tight, even tones.
The Three Bs rose to their feet, even Bombur whom he'd thought had dozed off. Gloin finished chewing and stood at a slower pace, hands upon his ax.
"You have no say in this, naiad," Belegon said. The scarred elf's hale cheek twitched, the corners of his mouth white.
"I don't have a say? You elves have no business in this at all!"
Belegon started right for him, hand on the hilt of one of his myriad weapons, but Gloin materialized in his path. "Easy, there, laddie," the dwarf said as Bifur, Bombur and Bofur lined up behind him, their own weapons at the ready. "No need to be drawing weapons."
Bombur lifted fleshy hands, his round face earnest. "Aye, there is no reason for this. Lower your weapons."
"Do not presume to tell me what to do, dwarf," the elf snapped, his gaze arrowing in upon the rotund dwarf. "You are not vital to the future. I would be only too happy to-"
The guard folded over, gasping for breath like a fish on shore as Bofur's fist hit his gut like a hammer. Aleks gaped. He'd not even seen Bofur move. One second Bofur had been behind Gloin, the next he stood shoulder-to-shoulder with him, his fist in the elf's belly.
Caranoran and Brethil drew their own weapons.
"You have got to be kidding me. I fall asleep for ten minutes, and you guys are at each others' throats?" Daphne tottered into their midst, hands lifted as if to push weapons back at their owners. The dwarves hastily withdrew theirs, mindful of the danger to her. The elves were slower in doing likewise. She leaned upon Bilbo and glared at each group in turn. "With all that is at stake? Belegon, you at least know how tenuous things are."
The elf in question held himself erect, jaw tight. "Lady-"
"She is not your lady," Aleks burst as his fury was ignited once more. Bifur touched his arm in warning, but he shook him off. "No, Bifur, this needs to be said." He directed his ire at the interfering, tinsel-haired prince. "She is not your sister. Your father has no claim on her."
"Shouldn't that be my decision?" Daphne asked softly with anger of her own, pivoting to face him. "Don't I get a say in whom I choose to call family?"
Okay, that had come out wrong. He admitted it. He tried to backpedal in his thoughts but then reconsidered. Maybe this had to happen. That Elvenking claimed Daph as his daughter and had played upon her need for acceptance like another would a fiddle. The king's supposed affection was pure bunk - Aleks didn't buy it now any more than he'd believed it in the throne room. For him to call Daphne daughter was a complete insult to their real father. Besides, if she needed a male to look up to, the Company was full of dwarves more deserving of her trust.
With as much gentleness as he could muster, Aleks broached, "Daph, he's not your father."
The green in her eyes flamed like an inferno before disappearing as her eyes hooded. The dwarves went still, and the elves watched his sister like a hawk, all set to measure her words. "What is it you really want to say, Aleks?" she asked icily, straightening. Her face drained of expression, and the Ice Princess returned before his eyes.
A glance towards the dwarves showed two of four pairs of eyes warning him to back off, but in this, he wouldn't. That elf had some hold on her, and it had to be destroyed before Thranduil turned on her as he most certainly would. She'd been hurt enough. Aleks wouldn't stand by and watch more come her way.
"I'm saying he's playing you." There, he said it.
The elves bristled with insult, but Daphne's hand whipped up, commanding them to silence. Caranoran moved to her side, his presence suddenly threatening.
"Notice how they surround you the instant the subject is raised," Aleks accused.
"He's playing me," she repeated flatly.
"He's the Elvenking, Daph. Yes, he's playing you. Do you really think he has any feelings for some mortal? He's using you."
"Oh, you mean like you did?" she retorted, the words like a slap across his face.
Aleks flinched. "Daph…" He couldn't back down. This was too important.
Daphne's chin wobbled but she didn't recant her words. "You will watch your tongue, Aleks, when you speak of the Elvenking."
"He's a liar and a traitor," Aleks roared. "You should know that - you know the history here. Or did you skip over the details of how he betrayed the dwarves and broke their alliance? How he turned away because they refused to cater to his greed?"
"You know nothing about it, Aleks," she shouted back. "Nothing about him. How dare you judge? You, who turned against every bond of family or decency with what you pulled?"
"He betrayed Thorin!"
"Thorin doesn't have all the facts!" she screeched. "Don't you dare bring him into this."
A cold worry wormed its way into his heart. Shaking with fury – why could she not listen? – he asked between gritted teeth, "Just where do your loyalties lie?"
"What?" She ended on a high note.
"Your loyalties," Aleks bit out. "Are you loyal to Thorin? Or that honorless elf?"
She turned white, her body shaking. "You have no idea what you are talking about, Aleks."
"I know he betrayed Thorin. So again I ask, where do your loyalties lie?"
Her chin lifted. "Thranduil never betrayed Thorin."
Oh no. She was choosing that monster. "I guess that answers that." I should have known the Ice Princess would ruin things. Old bitterness swelled. How could he have lost sight of how cold she could be? Hadn't she long ago proved beyond doubt how flawed her judgment was?
"No," she growled. "It doesn't, you hypocritical jerk. You want to truth? Well sit down." She pointed to a spot on the ground. "Park it."
Only Bifur's wordless prompting got his butt in contact with the ground, because his body vibrated with outrage. Aleks opened his mouth to voice just that when Bofur said, "You'll be holding your words, Aleks, or I'll thump you myself. You accused the lass. Now, it is her turn to speak."
He glared at the toymaker, and the toymaker stared him down. "He betrayed Thorin," Aleks stressed.
"Aye, so you pointed out, and she said there was more to the story. I'll be hearing it from her, for I've a mind to judge for myself." To Daphne, "You do realize, lass, it is our king you'll be speaking of?" No doubting the sober warning in his voice.
Daphne nodded, then grabbed Caranoran's arm as she weaved on her feet.
"Hwinneth?" the elf asked, wrapping an arm around her waist.
She smiled at the elf - smiled! - and leaned into his much taller frame. "Just tired and hungry. I feel hollow to my toes." She scrunched her nose and allowed the elf to aid her to a seat beside Beorn. Bilbo promptly thrust a hefty hunk of bread at her, the piece dripping with honey.
Aleks sat and fumed as she consumed the bread. He wasn't sure when it was, if it was around the sixth bite or the seventh, but Thorin's words from before returned to haunt him. It wasn't over. The repercussions to what he'd done lived on, and here he was, driving her away again with his angry accusations.
As the dwarves often said, Mahal. He pawed his face, weary beyond words. If I don't fix this, she'll never let me in. Old habit had goaded him into treating her as he had in the past. If he really wanted to change the man he was becoming, it was time to step up to the plate.
"Look, Daph, I'm sorry," he tried. She froze mid-chew, looking for all the world like a deer in headlights. Aleks hurried on before she could clear her mouth and retort. "You're right. I don't know him. All I can base my assumptions on is what Thorin recounted for me and our treatment by the elves when they captured us." He tried a wry smile, hoping she'd return it. "You must admit, things were pretty tense in that throne room."
She swallowed so fast, Aleks feared she'd choke on her food. "What are you doing, Aleks?" she asked.
He exhaled with a sigh. "Trying to change who I'm becoming. That's the honest truth. I'm guessing I destroyed our twin bond, because you didn't answer when I called for you before." He chafed his legs. "If not for that, I could prove my words."
Her lips compressed, and she fidgeted with the food in her hands. Caranoran placed a hand upon her shoulder. "Penneth, eat."
She ripped off another hunk and shoved it between her lips, her glare never leaving Aleks.
Aleks leaned forward and planted his elbows on his knees. "Tell me where I'm wrong," he urged, this time sincerely. "Tell me what I'm missing."
"You are such a lying sack of-" A big hand clamped over her mouth. Daphne jerked free of Beorn and ignored his calm, "Little Sister." "What is this, Aleks, this…this…game," she pounced upon the word like a cat with a mouse. "What, you think this act will redeem you in the sight of your friends? You are full of it. The whole 'a better man' act is good, I'll give you that, but you've over used it. You are such a waste of space," she spat, chest heaving and hands fisted beside her.
Aleks stared, pain radiating through him. He could feel eyes upon them and burned with her indictment. He swallowed thickly, his chest tight, and rasped, "That's cold, Daph. Really cold."
She looked away as if unwilling to hold his gaze, and her lower lip disappeared into her mouth.
"Enough," Beorn decreed. "Little Sister, your words are venom." She startled, her eyes wide.
"If you knew-" she began.
"No. No excuses. You spoke to harm, and that is not you."
OoOoOo
…not you…
Oh, if only he knew. I felt a hysterical laugh welling up inside. My gaze was drawn to Mirkwood's shadow, and a bereft feeling touched me. I wanted to return to the sanctuary of the Elvenking's Halls as it'd been before the dwarves' arrival in the most desperate way.
"Little Sister?" Beorn again, his voice softer, kinder.
My worst fears were being realized: I was turning into Aleks. The words that spewed forth from my mouth were as poisonous as any Grima would utter. I'd aimed my tongue like a razor, cutting to bleed. I ran hands through my hair and fisted them. Hatred and anger. How had it come to this?
"I told you once. I will not repeat myself. Leave her alone, naiad."
At Caranoran's silky words, my head jerked up. Aleks looked ready to explode, only Bifur's firm grasp keeping his rear end in contact with the ground.
"That will not work," Beorn said in a kindly enough fashion. "This, you know."
Caranoran's beautiful eyes narrowed upon the skin-changer.
"There will be no healing for either of the naiads until this is resolved. They must speak," Beorn continued.
"I will not allow Hwinneth to be further harmed. She has shed enough tears on this matter," Caranoran stated.
Eyes panned my way. Cheeks burning in mortification, resentful at having my weakness paraded before Aleks of all people, I stared at my foster brother. At last, I forced a facsimile of a smile to my lips, masking my hurt. With a shrug and a weak laugh, I said, "True enough. I was a leaky faucet when I arrived, wasn't I?" Understatement. And Caranoran knew better than anyone just how much of an understatement that was. Any anger at him faded. He'd born the brunt of my pain. My smile softened. "At least until someone short-sheeted my bed," I said, desperate for some levity.
Caranoran's slow, answering grin rewarded me. "And did you not repay me in kind?"
"I've been enjoying our game," I admitted, scratching my nose.
"Game?" he teased. "I thought you said it was war?"
I waved a hand. "Semantics. Besides, you turned my hair blue."
"Sapphire."
"Same difference."
The tension dropped exponentially, but it had the potential to blow up again. I still felt like slashing at Aleks in any way I could. Make him hurt as he'd hurt me. What was I becoming?
"You were going to tell me where I was wrong." Aleks's calm intrusion shocked me. Shouldn't he be yelling at me?
I lifted my eyes to him, and my own words replayed through my mind. Appa would be so ashamed. An avalanche of guilt drove me to speech. "I'm sorry," I whispered, looking away. "I'm sorry."
"So am I."
Dare I believe that hoarse voice?
"Och, pass me yer handkerchief, Master Baggins." Bofur's feigned wobbly voice dragged a laugh from me, kicking and screaming. Aleks smiled. The toymaker dropped the charade and said with absolute sobriety, "'tis done." He made eye contact with us both, waited until we felt the impact in turn. "You are twins. Siblings. You've both been hurt and done the hurting. No more."
Bifur nodded emphatically and set down his boar spear. Standing, he walked over to me and claimed my hand. With his free hand, he then beckoned to Beorn for more food. That provided, he led me to where Aleks and Bofur sat, seated himself and pulled me down beside him.
Next to Aleks.
Caranoran caught my gaze, arched a brow. Something in the rigid lines of his face told me that if I objected, he'd extricate me. Fast. A part of me wanted nothing more, but the rest of me knew by wimping out and doing so, it would do nothing but increase the likelihood of a real confrontation between the elves and dwarves. That, I wouldn't allow. No, I couldn't allow, rather. Too much was on the line. Compressing my lips, I lifted one shoulder.
Caranoran nodded minutely, but my foster brother and friend didn't relax his vigilance.
Food got shoved into my hands, and a silent command to eat was conveyed through a sharp gesture from Bifur. I exchanged a wide-eyed stare with Aleks, a short, leery one but an exchange nonetheless. I tore a bite of bread from the hunk in my hands and chewed. Bifur grunted with satisfaction and pulled out a small knife and a rod of wood. He began to whittle, whistling between his teeth.
"Now then. I believe you were about to tell Master Aleks and the rest of us why you trust the Elvenking?" Bilbo piped up the second my meal was finished.
Thank you, Bilbo, I mouthed. His polite, business-like tone did much to dispel the last of the mood I'd turned ugly.
I leaned into Bifur, needing that reassuring contact as I turned my attention to my brother. We are so messed up. Elrohir and Elladan, we were not. I wondered idly if the famous twin sons of Elrond had even been in Rivendell while I'd been there. Rubbing fingers along the knees of my jeans, I chose my words with care. "The disease infecting Mirkwood is a direct attack upon the Elvenking. I don't remember if I told you that."
"I heard about it," Aleks said, his green eyes cautious as they met mine.
I kept wanting to flinch away, the anger and hurt still very much present and accounted for. This was so unfair! Smothering my druthers, I bowed to necessity and plowed on. "The Elvenking is connected to his lands." I shifted a few degrees to bring the others into my line of sight. "Just as he is trying to destroy the line of Durin, he's tried to corrupt the Elvenking."
"Using that sickness," Aleks reiterated as if needing further confirmation before he believed it.
"Using the sickness," I agreed. I plucked some grass and fiddled with it. "Thranduil will not surrender. He's been under siege for decades, and that's where you are wrong. Aleks, the invasion on his lands had just begun when Thror invited him to Erebor for a visit. I don't know what you were told of Thorin's grandfather, but the dwarf was devoured by dragon sickness - gold sickness, basically. He could see nothing but his treasures. Not his son, not his grandchildren, and certainly not his ally. When Thranduil arrived, Thror tried to rub Thranduil's nose in his superiority by showing off his wealth."
Bifur hummed under his breath, the even sounds of his knife whittling that piece of wood a constant backdrop. When I turned to him, he shrugged and nodded, pretty much declaring my words accurate. Gloin seated himself beyond Bofur and began to sharpen his ax's blade.
"Daph," Aleks started.
I shook my head. "Hear me out." Because if he began bashing Thranduil again, I wasn't sure I could contain myself. Gwathadar had saved me and sheltered me. I would not listen to the person who'd made my life an endless misery insult him. Not without some serious retaliation.
I flicked the few strands of grass from me. "He was losing his kingdom. His people were in danger, and whether you believe it or not, he loves his people as much as Thorin does his. He'd do just about anything to protect them." I returned to my narrative. "Thror presented him with a chest of white gems." A wry smile. "According to Thranduil, they glittered like pure starlight. He was entranced by them, no doubt about it. But what really caught his attention was that they seemed to magnify his own abilities. He knew that with those gems, he could ward off the shadow invading his lands, and so he humbled himself and asked Thror for his aid, explaining that his people were at risk."
A swift inhale from Gloin. The whittling sounds from my other side halted.
Bofur leaned forward, his eyes intense beneath the brim of his floppy, winged hat. "Do you believe him then, Daphne?"
My gaze drifted beyond Aleks to the other toymaker. "He can't lie to me, Bofur."
Gloin snorted. "That's a fool's tale, lassie." It was gently enough stated but bald all the same.
"No, I mean it. He can't lie to me, and I can't lie to him. We met through our bond with those woods." I rushed to explain as Gloin looked ready to jump in again. "I was trying to heal a tree after it saved Radagast and me from a party of orcs. The disease - the Dark Lord - infected me so fast, I couldn't get a handle on it. I fought, but I was losing. That's how I met Thranduil. His energy suffuses those woods," I said with a chin nod towards Mirkwood. "I saw this golden energy flowing towards me as fast as it could, and it was him. He saved me. And in the process, we saw each other. Not with eyes or anything superficial, but each other's…essence, I suppose you could say. I know him. He knows me. If I prevaricate – and I have when the subject of the future was at stake – he recognizes it immediately. I can't fool him."
Gloin harrumphed.
Bofur's thick brows met over his nose, and he frowned, his gaze upon Mirkwood's black silhouette. "How can it be Thorin has not heard of this?" Bofur asked.
"Ye may not be remembering it, laddie, but old Thrain tried his best to shield Thorin, Dís and Frerin from Thror," Gloin said. "That doesn't mean I'm believing the elf, mind," he cautioned me. "But if it happened like the lass says, Thrain would not have wanted to tell his son of Thror's lapse in honor."
"Ye'd think Balin would have known," Bofur said around his pipe.
Gloin lifted and dropped a hand. "Balin is a respected adviser, no doubt. Perhaps he would…" Another glance my way "…if such an event occurred."
"Oh, it happened," Caranoran interjected. "And to address your comment, Master Gloin, your Balin was not present. My adar made his appeal in private. Only the two kings and their heirs were present. My eldest brother spoke of the event often. Thror was demeaning. He mocked Adar and said he'd part with not one gem even if it would save every elf in the Greatwood. He accused Adar of using deceit to raid his coffers." No question how Caranoran felt about the whole situation. His lips looked like they'd bitten into something bitterly sour.
The dwarves glanced among themselves. It was Bombur who spoke first, turning my way with a huge sigh. "Lassie, your defense of the Elvenking aside…" He waited until my attention was his and nodded sadly. "Even supposing your tale to be true, the Elvenking did come to watch our misery on the day of Smaug's firestorm. That does not speak well of him."
"He didn-" I began, only to be interrupted by Caranoran's calm, "Adar rode to aid the men of Dale. What remained of them." His beautiful malachite eyes surveyed the dwarves with care. "Our alliance with the dwarves of Erebor ended when Thror denied my adar's request for aid. Not so with the men."
Aleks skipped a stone out of camp. "Why didn't he help them? They had women and children."
"Disease and mayhem! Lies! All lies!" a new voice intruded.
The dwarves were on their feet before the final syllable was uttered, weapons brandished. The elves remained seated with smirks on their faces. From their vantage point, Radagast's arrival was no surprise.
The thin wizard stepped into our circle, his twisted rowan staff in one hand and a fey smile upon his face. "Such a story," he continued, those hazel eyes scanning our party but not meeting anyone's eyes. The expression on his face was just this side of crazed.
Not this again, I groaned to myself. Aloud, I sufficed with a firm, "No."
He blinked at me owlishly.
"Really. No. Cut the act. You and I both know that of all the Istari, you are probably the canniest." Then out of fairness, "No offense to Gandalf."
The idiotic expression dropped from his face with a sigh big enough to fell trees. "Green-child, you are a trial. Tinkering with an old man's reputation is not done. It just isn't done."
I grinned cheekily and rose to my feet to greet him, my balance just a bit uncertain. Bifur steadied me.
"And," he added with a couple thumps of his staff upon the ground, "you have been ill." Hazel eyes swept over me, again skirting around mine.
"I'm fine."
He snorted. "Stubborn." His attention turned to the ferret around his neck as it chittered to him. "Too right, Toby. Yes, indeed."
The elves looked bemused. Bofur grinned, his pipe finding his lips. "In-teresting friends, my lass. Aye, interesting."
Radagast frowned but ignored the dwarf. "I came for something." Grizzled brows pressed together. "What was it? Oh, it was on the tip of my tongue." His hands flapped, and he turned this way and that as if searching for his lost brain.
He really didn't wish to associate with people, I decided. "We need your help, and we'll promise not to breathe a word about your intelligence when this is over."
Shrewd eyes returned to me. "You will ruin everything, leaf-child."
"You've done a good job establishing your uselessness," I told him with blunt candor. "No one would believe us."
"Truly?" The guy actually looked hopeful.
Aleks drawled, "I'm not sure I'm believing it now."
Those hazel eyes turned intent as they inspected Aleks. "Ah, yes, I remember. The other naiad. Aleks, if I recall correctly."
"Yes," Aleks said, suddenly wary.
Radagast's head bobbed. "Good, good." To me, "Sit before you fall over." Another frown. "Perhaps you might lie down. You are in deplorable condition. Again," he stressed.
As if his words demolished the prop keeping me upright and functional, my body's ails crashed down upon me. Sleep. I really, really wanted nothing so much as some uninterrupted sleep. But too much had to be said. Too much done.
"Aye, lass. You turn in. We'll fill in the wizard," Bofur offered around a wide, pipe-filled grin.
"No. The wizard has arrived. We have been patient, but it is time to depart," Caranoran interjected flatly.
"Depart?" I echoed. "Why do we have to leave?" What was wrong with enjoying Beorn's nice, comfy campsite?
Caranoran shook his head. "I am sorry, but Adar told us Dol Guldur was emptied. Everything he has is searching for you."
I wobbled and fell on my butt. Or rather, I would have had Bifur not caught me and eased me to the ground. "Emptied it?"
"How came your father by this knowledge?" Radagast asked in a razor-sharp tone.
Caranoran straightened. "He-"
Radagast waved the information away. He turned to me. "What is happening, green-child?"
Did he want the Cliff's Notes or the Extended Version? "Belegon, did you bring my ebook reader?" I asked, my own voice echoing oddly in my ears.
Rambo cleared his throat, and a part of me knew, just knew something else had happened I was not going to like. "I regret to inform you, Lady Hwinneth…"
"Who is Hwinneth?" Radagast interrupted.
"That would be the lass," Bombur said, nodding with a helpful smile.
"…that my lord, Prince Gellamon…" Belegon doggedly persisted.
"But she had a name," Radagast said with a confused look.
"No. Really," I told the wizard, aiming a finger his way. "Stop it. No one here is buying the stupid act."
"Stupid," the wizard reiterated with affront.
"…confiscated the book before I departed from Mirkwood," Belegon finished with a flourish, plainly happy to have gotten all that said.
"Yes, stupid. You carry the act a little too far," I informed the wizard.
He hummed absently, still refusing to make eye contact. "That is a matter of opinion, my young naiad. Do I have exiled dwarf kings knocking upon my door? Or a White Council commanding my presence?"
I frowned at him good, then spun on my tailbone towards Belegon, his words finally registering. "You left the book with the crown prince? Are you mad?"
"What book?" Bilbo asked.
"The book!" I cried, waving hands in the air. "The book with all the juicy tidbits about how the future will play out here in Middle Earth."
Silence.
"Pardon me, but I don't believe I caught that." I returned to find a very intent wizard making huge eye contact with me.
I coughed into one fist, toyed with some grass with my toes. "Well, you see-"
"What is this about knowing the future?" he demanded. When he marched towards me, Bifur and Bofur leaped to their feet, but the wizard waggled a hand at them. "Oh, for pity's sake, I'll not harm the girl. Sit, sit." A frown. "And you stay seated, child," he said to me. "What have you done to yourself now?"
"We traveled through Mirkwood," I explained.
Grizzled eyebrows arched upward. "You were not so careless as to attempt another healing?"
"The disease followed her through the woods like a living creature on the hunt," Caranoran interjected. When Radagast's body panned his way, my foster brother bowed. "Prince Caranoran Thran-"
The wizard returned to me, his disinterest evident. I threw Caranoran an apologetic look, and the prince's thin-lipped expression softened to wry humor.
"It followed you?" Radagast asked.
"It is the least of it," Belegon said. When Radagast's eyes passed him by, he hurried to add, "It is a disease created by the Dark Lord. The necromancer is Sauron returned, and he has decided to seek retribution through Lady Hwinneth. I expect we'll have hordes of orcs and wargs swarming these lands very soon."
Radagast's lanky body went still. His head turned in slow motion until hazel eyes locked with mine. "You will tell me all after we remove ourselves from this site. I know of a better place to rest which the orcs would be challenged to find." To the others, "Come, come. Hurry now, we must away."
I scrubbed at my face, my eyes burning with fatigue. Then, I let Bifur help me to my feet and prod me towards my gear.