7
Kíli's eyes widened at the sight ahead of him.
A cell. Four stone walls and a door made up of bars. So very like what he'd seen in the goblin tunnels. And he couldn't go back. Mahal knew he couldn't get locked in a cell again. Even if his captors were more merciful this time, he couldn't deal with being locked up again like an animal. Sound suddenly seemed to shut itself from his mind, and all that inhabited his world were himself, the door, and the hands pushing him towards it.
"Kíli?" Fíli said, his voice lancing through the barrier of sound that had been set up around him.
"Please..." Kíli gasped, his breath coming in shudders. "Please, I... I can't go in there... Please, not again..."
His hand found Fíli's, encasing his brother's in a vice-like grip as panic rose in his chest.
"Kíli, it's alright," Fíli said reassuringly, attempting to squeeze his brother's hand. And it would be fine, provided they stayed together –
Which suddenly became increasingly unlikely as the elves wrenched their hands apart with surprising strength.
Kíli suddenly began to fight the elves, frantically pushing to get away from the cell, fighting to return to his brother. The prospect of being separated again became so very real as their voices rose in an indistinguishable din.
"No!" Kíli begged as the door opened. "No! Fíli, please!"
"Kíli!"
Fíli was shoved down the corridor.
"Kíli, it'll be alright, I promise! Just hold on!"
Kíli fought frantically as he was slowly forced into the cell. "Fíli, please! Please don't leave me!"
One final push sent Kíli sprawling onto the cell floor and the door was finally slammed shut.
"Let me out!" Kíli gasped, frantically scrabbling to reach the cell door, using the door as leverage to haul himself up. "I said let me out!"
"Maybe if you tell us what we wish to hear, we'll consider it," Legolas replied, his expression smooth, giving nothing away. "If not, then I'm sorry, but you're staying right where you are. Anyway, I thought dwarves liked stone."
Kíli lunged forwards, his hand stretching through the bars, but Legolas drew back sharply, as Kíli's fingers closed on air. With a final disgusted noise, Legolas turned away from Kíli, following the rest of his contingent as they dragged Fíli out of Kíli's sight.
Bilbo would have in all honesty been impressed with the room he was in, had it not been for the predicament he was in. There were highly polished oak panels covering the walls, with intricate carvings towards the top. The ceiling was high, and was supported by pillars carved to look like trees – indeed it was only the way that the roots blended seamlessly into the floor that told him that there were not trees growing out of the ground within the room. The smooth marble floor echoed every time one of the dwarves shifted under the hard gaze of the owner of the room – the only being in all of Arda who could enjoy the level of luxury afforded here. The Elvenking of Mirkwood sat before them in a carved throne set on a marble pedestal, behind which hung a banner of his father – the sigil identical to the one adorning the flag that had fluttered in the breeze outside.
The dwarves had been knelt on the floor before the Elvenking, and were surrounded by guards in shining armour, clutching spears. Bilbo, however, had slipped everybody's notice, and stood to one side of the scene, pressed against the wall, invisible thanks to the ring on his finger. In comparison to the company they were in, and where they were positioned, the dwarves did look particularly dishevelled – their beards were unkempt, braids were coming undone, twigs and spider webs were caught in their hair and clothes, their clothes were coated in mud, and yet, somehow, they still carried some level of pride that left them completely silent at the question they had just been asked.
"It is not a difficult question," the Elvenking said wearily. "Answer me."
Silence reigned over eleven dwarves and one invisible hobbit.
"You heard the king!" snarled the leader of the group who had caught the remaining dwarves. "What are your names?"
Still, there was no answer.
"Right," the Elvenking said, getting gracefully to his feet. He didn't sound angry, just... resigned. "So a group of dwarves enters my realm without my permission, leads a group of orcs further north than they have ever come, arouses the spiders that have plagued my people, attacked my general's second-in-command, and now refuses to answer a simple question? Is your race really such a set of imbeciles that you do not know when you are defeated?"
"We did not attack him!" Balin snapped indignantly. "If you're referring to the cut on his head, we did nothing of the sort!"
"Oh, so you mean to tell me that you're not-"
"Thindor."
The name was spoken without any heat behind it – indeed, the tone was so blank that it could have conveyed anything. Yet Thindor fell silent, his tongue stilled by the command.
"You think that your exploits have gone unnoticed?" the Elvenking said softly, his tone threatening more danger than the spiders. "A group of dwarves scattered the goblins from the mountainside. One of this company, I know by name, at least. Thorin Oakenshield, your reputation precedes you. But it is not your name I wish to know." Piercing blue eyes met with Thorin's, before sweeping over the rest of the group. "I wish to know the names of your companions. I wish to know who they are, and why they follow you. To what end are you going? What did you promise them that made them so willing to waste their lives for you?"
"We are merely visiting our kin in the Iron Hills," Dori cut in. "It is long since we have seen them-"
"Silence," the Elvenking hissed. "If I wished to be lied to, I would ask my son what he was doing a week ago."
Laughter broke out around the room, quickly silenced by the Elvenking sitting back down in his throne.
"I am not the enemy you should fear, Thorin Oakenshield," the Elvenking said, his tone finally betraying a hint of anger. "In another time, our kingdoms were allies. We all stood united by a common foe – the same foe, I suspect, that darkens my land. I fought beside your ancestors – I knew your namesake. Our races were never, perhaps, friends, but we were allies. I wish that no war would come to my land, yet here it is, brought on by other races, and all too often, we are forced to choose sides in conflicts we would much rather stay out of. Jewels have ever corrupted the hearts of other races, and soon an entire race would be damned to hatred by another, and by association, our people have never been close."
"And I will not be won over by pretty words from the tongue of a snake!" Thorin snarled.
"Thorin Oakenshield, once again, I am not the enemy. You entered my kingdom, bringing your own enemies with you. We simply responded to such a disturbance."
"Then let us be on our way, and we will take our enemies with us," Balin suggested.
"Disturbing how many of mine in the process?" the Elvenking rose to his feet once again, sweeping around the room. "You would brave the passages of the Misty Mountains. You would pass through Mirkwood, with all its dangers, and for what? All I wish to know is why you would do such a thing. I could help you, perhaps, if such a quest was in my favour."
"And what help would you give?" Thorin growled, anger rising within him as he thought back to the last time he had asked the elves of Mirkwood for aid. "You would turn away like cowards at the first sign of trouble!"
"ENOUGH!" the Elvenking silenced the room, raising his voice for the first time since the dwarves had been brought in. "I gave you the chance to tell me willingly, yet you respond with insults. Thindor, take them to the dungeons and lock them up separately until one of their tongues is loosened."
Bilbo scurried backwards as elves all around hauled the dwarves to their feet, before they were led away from the throne room. Bilbo toyed with the idea of lingering – he was no prisoner after all. He hadn't removed the ring, and he hadn't been counted amongst the dwarves by the elves. His mind raced, as he desperately thought for something to do – knocking either the Elvenking or Thindor out appealed greatly apart from the small inconvenience of the guards around the room who would shoot the dwarves at the sight of any harm to their king or commander – but he was forced to face the reality that if something were to be done to prevent the dwarves being imprisoned, he had missed his window. If anything were to save them, it would need to be some form of escape plan.
Kíli sat in the corner of his cell, in the one spot where the door was not visible. He nearly laughed at the irony that he – a dwarf of Ered Luin and second in line for the throne of Erebor, should it ever be reclaimed – was claustrophobic. This simple dusty cell terrified him. He took small comfort that the elves of Mirkwood were not the goblins of the Misty Mountains, and therefore far less likely to force him to commit similar atrocities to those he had performed in the Misty Mountains – of which he had spoken to nobody. He was also far less likely to be subjected to the same level of humiliation as a caged animal, merely a spectacle.
"Hey! Fíki, or whatever you said your name was!"
Although, having said that...
"It's Kíli," he ground out, reluctantly moving into view of the door, where the elf who'd shot at Fíli stood, hood down, revealing red hair that rivalled Gloin's for colour. Kíli refused to meet her eyes.
The elf waved the name away. "We found the rest of your company. Is it true that you're related to Thorin Oakenshield?"
Kíli's eyes found the floor, tracing a pattern in the dust with his fingers. "Virtually all our company are interrelated," he replied monotonously. "Well, apart from Bifur, Bofur and Bombur."
"And where do they fit in?"
"They-" Kíli broke off abruptly, his eyes finally meeting the elf's as they narrowed with suspicion. "Why do you want to know?"
"Listen, you idiot," the elf hissed. "I don't have to justify my reasons to you! You are at my king's mercy – we should have executed your brother for what he did in the forest!"
"Why? For defending his kin?"
"For attacking the king's-" This time, the elf broke off, her eyes widening as she realised what she'd just let slip.
Kíli raised his eyebrows.
"Now you listen," the elf said, her eyes flashing dangerously. "It was more than my life's worth to reveal to you that we captured the rest of your friends! I ask the answer to one simple question in return-"
"And I gave you the answer to that one simple question," Kíli replied, his voice still carrying that same monotony that had been present throughout the conversation. "You asked me if I was related to Thorin Oakenshield – I told you not only that I was, but which members of my company are not. It was more than my life's worth to reveal that."
The elf paused, her eyes narrowing dangerously, as though hoping that looks alone would succeed when her words had failed.
"What's your name?" Kíli asked.
"I think you know the answer to that," the elf snapped.
"Tauriel, is it not?"
The elf – now established as Tauriel – nodded.
"Tauriel... I suggest a little exchange."
"Let me guess – some unknown debt to be claimed at a later date in exchange for your freedom?"
"Not exactly, no."
Tauriel's eyebrows shot up.
"Knowledge for knowledge," Kíli explained. "You ask me a question, I answer it honestly. Then I ask you a question, and you answer it."
Tauriel laughed sarcastically. "And your questions will no doubt be 'how do I get out of this cell undetected' or along a similar vein?"
"Well, if you don't wish to answer a specific question, you don't have to. But for every answer one of us gets, the other must have one."
"Seems fair. Very well – what were you doing in the forest?"
"Passing through. Why have you imprisoned us?"
Tauriel rolled her eyes at the blatantly obvious answer.
"Because the king wishes it. Why were you passing through?"
"To reach the lands beyond. Why does the king wish for us to be imprisoned?"
"Because you do not have permission to be in Mirkwood. Also, your brother attacked someone close to him. Which way were you going?"
"East. What relation does the elf that Fíli attacked have to the king?"
Tauriel narrowed her eyes. "I don't want to answer that one."
"Tauriel, you still owe me an answer."
A silence fell between them, stretching like a chasm as Kíli waited for the inevitable.
"Ask me another question."
"What is the easiest way out of Mirkwood where I won't get detected?"
Tauriel glared at Kíli, who simply smiled smugly at the elf.
"He is the king's nephew," Tauriel said through gritted teeth. "Now for my next question – what relation are you to Thorin Oakenshield?"
Kíli fell back onto the floor, his eyes drifting shut lazily. "Well, I'm bored now, so I suggest that you go and do whatever else you need to be doing."
"You still owe me an answer!"
"No I don't," Kíli said flatly. "You went first, remember?"
Tauriel mentally kicked herself. An answer for an answer – she had gone first, which had put him in control of when their exchange ended. She had allowed the dwarf to gain the upper hand within the first few minutes of their interaction. She had been a fool to let such a thing happen, and even more so not to see it before.
"Well done, dwarf," she snarled, turning on her heel and storming away, unaware of the invisible creature following her.
Bilbo had tried and failed to keep up with the elves as they took the rest of Thorin's company into the dungeons. However, the company was soon split up, and the dwarves had been taken deep underground. After following Thorin and establishing that there was nothing he could do for their leader when he was locked in a cell and guarded, he had decided to go in search of the others.
Of course, what he hadn't counted on was getting lost in the labyrinth of corridors and tunnels beneath the Elvenking's halls, and spent the best part of an hour wandering around in the dark, seeing neither hide nor hair of another living soul, before one of the elves stormed up a small flight of stairs and walked right past him. He leapt out of her way, but decided to follow her – if only to get out of the maze he was in.
She led him through the winding tunnels until they finally came to a door, which led them both straight into the now empty throne room. The elf walked straight across the room and through another door which led into a sunny courtyard, where an elf whom Bilbo had never seen before stood talking to a finely dressed young man. The man seemed far cheerier than the elf, who offered the man a smile that didn't reach his eyes, before refilling a goblet that the man had just handed him.
"Legolas!" the elf whom Bilbo had followed.
The elf in the courtyard looked up, his smile morphing into something far more genuine.
The first elf walked over to Legolas, before muttering something in elvish. Legolas nodded, before the man said, rather bluntly:
"Who are you?"
Legolas turned back to the man. "Drín, this is Tauriel, captain of my guard and one of my most able soldiers. Tauriel, this is Drín, son of the Master of Esgaroth, here to negotiate about the river routes. I assure you that anything you have to say to me can be said in front of him."
Tauriel offered Drín a dismissive nod, ignoring the outstretched hand for her to shake. "Delighted."
"So, Tauriel, what have you got for me?" Legolas asked.
Tauriel gave Drín a wary look, before turning back to Legolas. "Three more names."
"Excellent! Which ones?"
"I don't know who they belong to, but the young one said that three of them were called Bifur, Bofur and Bombur."
"Well done, Tauriel. Might I ask how you came by this?"
"A simple exchange of knowledge, a gesture of trust."
Legolas' smile faltered. "An exchange?"
Tauriel nodded. "I also learnt that the dwarves were heading east before we found them, and they had no intention of stopping in the forest."
"And what did you tell him?"
"Nothing he didn't already know."
"What is that supposed to mean?" A note of hostility had found its way into Legolas' voice.
"What's going on?" Drín asked, only to be flatly ignored by the two elves.
"Tauriel, what did you tell him?"
"I told him that he was imprisoned because his brother attacked Thindor, and-" she broke off abruptly.
Legolas' face darkened – no trace of a smile, forced or otherwise, lingered on his face. "Please... tell me you didn't tell him how Thindor was related to my father..."
Tauriel nodded, almost imperceptibly.
Legolas' eyes drifted shut. "Tauriel..."
"It was an exchange of knowledge!" Tauriel's voice had gone defensive. "I got plenty in return!"
"An exchange? Tauriel, you bantered back and forth for about a minute during which he elaborately told you nothing that we didn't already know!"
"We didn't know they were heading east!"
"Yes, we did! You weren't present when we brought in the rest of their company, but one of them mentioned going to the Iron Hills!"
"They were almost certainly lying!"
"Yes, but in that moment they revealed which way they were heading!"
Tauriel's tongue stilled, as silence pressed down on the scene, tense, anticipating...
"Should I come back later?" Drín asked, and in that moment, the tension broke.
Legolas held out a hand to Drín. "Tauriel, you have just put my cousin in danger. If this comes back to harm him in any way, I will hold you accountable. And if I find out that you have told him anything else – like the fact that we brought the rest of his company in – then I will have you charged for treason. You are dismissed."
Bilbo's eyes flickered between the two elves, as Tauriel turned on her heel, storming out, before something else sunk in...
The rest of his company...
There were two members of the company that were yet to be accounted for.
Fíli and Kíli.
A/N: Not particularly happy with this chapter... But I really cannot be bothered to rewrite it again. I'm sorry about the delay for this chapter, and sorry that it was more of a filler than anything else. Next chapter should be more entertaining...
Thanks once again for the reviews! I'm sorry I haven't had a chance to reply to any – between exams (we will not discuss the stats paper...) and everything else going on (don't ask...) I've just been completely unable to find any time whatsoever... However, it means a lot that people are still interested in this story, and after exams, when the world is suddenly a lot less stressful, I might actually be given a chance to do what I want for a change...
