The afternoon sun sent its golden light into the valley and the halls and houses of Rivendell gleamed magnificently in all different shades of white, cream and golden.

Silently, Dwalin and Alina walked through the garden, the scent of fresh roses and lilies hung in the air and the sound of the quietly murmuring river and the low rumble of the waterfalls in the distance surrounded the two lovers like they were wandering through a garden full of peace.

It was the first time since their arrival that Dwalin could leave his bed and take a walk. His ribcage still throbbed a bit, but it was not as solemn as the days before.

Finally they lowered down on a wooden bench close to a beautiful fountain with a pool made of the finest marble. They remained silent for several moments until he cleared his throat and took her small hand in his.

"I haven't seen Thorin for two days now. How is he?" he asked and the girl sensed the high concern in his voice.

She knew he still could not believe that this was really happening; that Lailah was really alive and with them in this place. A place they might not have found wouldn't it been for the Orc-attack several days ago. Was it fate? Was it destiny? Were they meant to end up in this elvish place; the place where Lailah, their leaders long lost love, resided?

"He suffers. He doesn't show it openly, but I can see it. Balin said that he has to stay away from Lailah. That she needs time. She has no memory of all of us. She doesn't remember me, or you, or Balin or Thorin. But I talked to her this morning and the things she told me—what she'd been through in all those years—"

Alina fell silent, her voice broke with a choke and tears began falling down her cheeks. Her nails dug into his hand and he knew whatever had happened to their friend, it must have been horrific.

Carefully he placed his arm around her, stroked gently over her head and pressed his lips gently in her auburn hair that shimmered beautifully and warm in the light of the slowly setting sun that began to sink lower and lower behind the mountainside.

"She seems to grow quite attached to Gloin," Alina suddenly said amused and Dwalin chuckled quietly.

"It seems he has some fatherly qualities that make her feel comfortable. It's at least a little something, right? And who knows? Maybe she will slowly get attached to our company and—"

"And what?" she shifted a bit aside to look at him.

"No, nothing. Forget it—"

"No, Dwalin. Tell me what's on your mind."

He knew it was needless to deny answering her. He sighed and cast a glance along the garden before he finally looked back at her and shrugged.

"I just thought—we won't stay here much longer. Maybe a couple of days until I can move without pain again. What happens with Lailah? Thorin won't go without her. He would not risk losing her again. He would not leave her behind as much as he wants to reach Erebor."

She nodded understandingly, slowly realizing what he was about to say. "You mean once she gets attached to our Company—she will consider travel with us in hope to regain her memory."

"It's foolish to think that could work, I know," he mumbled. "I just wish it could happen like that. They both deserve to be reunited again. Even though they are here at the same place now doesn't mean they are reunited. As long as Lailah has no memory of him it makes no difference to all those years before while we all thought she was dead. Thorin will die piece by piece the more he sees her and the more he realizes that the girl he loves isn't anymore."

They both fell silent for a while, chasing their own thoughts while the light of day slowly faded around them and the sky turned indigo. Soon it would be time for dinner and so they left the garden to meet with the rest of the company on the balcony.

Upon entering they both saw that Thorin was missing and much to Alina's concern it was just like every day since their arrival. She could understand how he must feel, but it would make no sense if he stopped eating. It wouldn't help him the slightest.

"Where is he?" she asked once sitting down next to Balin.

"The last time I saw him was around noon. I suppose he is in his room or maybe somewhere outside at the water. He doesn't sleep or eat much. We cannot risk that he loses his strength," he replied quite concerned and sipped from his wine.

"Maybe someone should go and talk to him. Someone should remind him why we are on this quest," Dwalin said and filled his plate with bread and grapes and some of the sausages Bombur had managed to cook.

"You don't really believe that would make a difference, do you?" Alina replied and sipped from her wine and finally they fell silent and continued with their dinner.


While the Company was occupied by the dinner, Thorin wandered along a long, dimly lighted hallway. He had no idea where it was leading to and actually he didn't care that much at all. There was no place in that forsaken elf city where he did not feel her presence.

He turned around the next corner and with a thud he bumped into someone. The dwarf king grumbled and looked up into the amused face of Lord Elrond himself. That very elf he didn't trust the slightest since their arrival in this city. That very elf who told him to stay away from Lailah.

"Thorin Oakenshield, I advise you to wander the world with open eyes," the elf Lord said and watched the dwarf carefully.

"My eyes are always open and I will see if someone is about to betray me or not," he grumbled and was about to brush past the elf but stopped dead in his track upon feeling a hand being placed on his shoulder.

"Your hate for my race blinds you. You see what you want to see—"

"I am not insane, if that is what you're implying," he yanked away from Elrond's hand and turned to look up at the other with such suspicion in his eyes that just turned a shade darker.

The elf sighed and stepped towards an opening in the wall from where he could overlook parts of the forest and the river down below in the valley. Several elf maids walked silently along the river shore, while some others were chatting with each other quite lively.

"When she arrived in Rivendell she was broken," he finally said without looking at Thorin. He could feel the tension that radiated around the dwarf king. Carefully, Thorin stepped closer towards him and looked out of the window, too.

"What do you mean? Broken?"

He cast a glance down at him. "She came here and said her name was Sukka. I knew that was not her name. One look into her eyes and I saw her mother so clearly like a mirror looking back at me and I knew it only could be Lailah. She did not believe me first; her memory was a mess and just with much gentleness I could get her to tell me what she had been through. She had no memory who she was when she woke up in a camp of orcs. I am not the one who should tell you the details. That is hers to decide if and what she wants to tell you. I can only say that my decision to keep you away from her was made because I want to protect her. Pushing her and forcing her to try and remember her past life would only cause more mess inside her mind. I do hope you understand that, Thorin Oakenshield."

Thorin sighed and continued staring outside, watching the last light of day fading behind the mountains. Finally he turned his head to look up at the elf and frowned as he saw that he was alone again. Slowly he walked down a flight of stairs and walked past a wooden double-door that was just ajar. He didn't pay much attention, when suddenly he froze and listened carefully. His heartbeat increased upon hearing her angelic voice humming an unfamiliar tune.

Casting a quick glance around to check if no one else was nearby, he stepped closer towards the door and peeked inside the hall. A large fireplace was set in the middle of the room, painting the walls in a warm hue of orange and red.

And there, on a soft red cushion, he saw her sitting close to the flames. Her back was facing him; her hands ran gracefully through her long, bright hair with a comb.

Thorin leaned his head against the doorframe, watched every move of her as tears began stinging in his eyes. There she was just a few steps away from him and yet he couldn't just go and talk to her. And so he continued watching her and a freezing cold hand grabbed his heart upon hearing her sing a song so sad that he wished his heart would be ripped out of his chest.

'I sit upon the stones alone;
the fire is burning red,
the tower is tall, the mountains dark;
all living things are dead.
In western lands the sun may shine,
there flower and tree in spring
is opening, is blossoming;
and there the finches sing.

'But here I sit alone and think
of days when grass was green,
and earth was brown, and I was young:
they might have never been.
For they are past, for ever lost,
and here the shadows lie
deep upon my heavy heart,
and hope and daylight die.'

Her voice faded and she placed the comb down and rummaged in her satchel. Suddenly she stopped, aware that she wasn't alone anymore. She turned and looked at him, a bit confused.

Slowly she got up and approached him with a curious glance in her eyes. Thorin felt the urge to retreat, feared what might happen if he spent time with her. But then again, he remembered that he was supposed to talk to her as long as she wanted it.

"Good evening," she said with a shy smile and fumbled with a ribbon of her dress.

"I hope I didn't disturb you?" he replied uncertainly and desperately tried to fight down the urge to step closer and embrace her tightly.

She slightly shook her head and looked back into his eyes, aware that they were still teary-wet. "No, it is fine. This is the Hall of Fire. I often come here to enjoy the warmth and the silence," she cast a glance back into the room and sighed. "And sometimes I wish for some company," she looked back at him and it was as if his heart was just about to stop beating.

Uncertain what to do he stepped a bit closer. "I don't know if I'm the right person to accompany you."

"And yet the only one around right now," she chuckled quietly. "Really, it is fine. As long as it doesn't hurt too much."

"It hurts no matter where I am," he replied quietly as if more to himself and earned a thoughtful nod from her.

Finally she stepped back into the room and heard him closing the door and following her. She lowered down on the cushion again and patted on another one next to her. Carefully he lowered down and immediately felt the warmth of the fire on his face.

"The song you sang—it touched me," he said after a long silence and his gaze drifted to her again.

"I don't know where it came from, but while I was in the Old Forest close to Bree, right before Tom found me, I sat alone at a quietly murmuring creek and that made me feel so sad and all the past years slumped down onto my shoulders and that song was the first thing that came to my mind to express my feelings," she replied and was surprised that she found the guts to talk about it so openly with him.

She could feel the tension in the air; could feel questions burning on his tongue, questions he did not dare to ask and she was thankful for that. Whatever it was he wanted to know, she was not ready to talk to that dwarf about it.

"That coat—"she suddenly said and examined him carefully. "It looks impressive," she added and reached for the fur that was soft beneath her fingertips.

Thorin's breathing increased ever so slightly. Should he tell her that she had given that coat to him? Should he show her the words inside?

Loyalty. Honor. A willing heart.

"It is my favorite coat," he simply stated and didn't dare moving; did not want her to stop stroking the fur that was still just as soft as on the day she had given it to him. One day before the dragon came. One day before he had lost her and she had lost him and all her life.

"I remember you—"she suddenly whispered and his head snapped to look at her, his jaw opening slightly. His mouth already curled halfway into a smile when she added, "That one night on the road to Bree. It was you. You had been the dwarf on the road, in the rain. I remember that coat; you wore it on that day, too."

And just as quick as his hope had rose, it was smashed down again. He felt foolish that he could've really thought she remembered him from talking to him for just a few moments and by touching the fur of his coat.

He sighed heavily and got up. "Yes, that was me. I am sorry, but I think it's better if I leave. I am terribly tired and I'll have a meeting tomorrow with Gandalf and Lord Elrond."

She got up and nodded understandingly. "You look quite pale and tired, indeed. Good night—"she paused a second, watching him questioningly.

"Thorin. My name is Thorin," he replied, realizing that she was waiting for him to give her his name.

"Good night, Thorin," she finally said with a warm smile and watched him leave. Once the doors closed again and silence wrapped her again she turned and stared into the flames.

And ever so slightly her lips curled into a smile.