It was very unfortunate that Bard chose the same day to come and claim his share of the treasure in the name of the people of Lake-town.
Had he raised his concern befor Thranduil's ill-fated visit, the king under the mountain might have been more receptive to his request- after all, he had given his word.
As it were, with the Elven army stationed in the ruins of Dale, Thorin had every reason to believe the dragonslayer was in league with the man whom he believed responsible for Kili's death, and was no longer open for rational arguments.
"This treasure does not belong to Thranduil, or the people of Laketown," he reprimanded Ella when she dared to remind him that she had vouched for his honesty. "It is ours and ours alone. And by my life, I will not part with a single coin, not one piece of it."
She shuddered when she recognized the words and the sinister tone in which they were spoken.
Thorin sounded like the dragon. He was becoming him.
The dwarves were busy preparing for battle and magnificent to look at in their shiny armor.
They were ready to fight tooth and nail to defend the Erebor even if they knew they would likely not survive the coming day.
Instead of another piece of jewelry, Thorin had given Ella something else this day- a chain mail made of mithril that no sword could pierce.
It must have been clear to him that it was the last gift she would ever receive from him and that it would do little to protect her against an army of a thousand elves, but he seemed to be determined to go down fighting and take all of them with him.
She could not let this happen.
And there was only one way to avert it.
She had to return the white gems of Lasgalen to their rightful owner. If Thranduil got his heirlooms back he would withdraw his troops, he had promised it.
There was only one problem. Ella had no idea where Thorin had hidden the necklace after their last night together, and there was no time to search the fortress for it, now.
But she had something else, had she not?
Something that was worth more to him than any other piece of his treasure.
The Arkenstone.
Without a doubt he would trade anything for it.
Thorin would of course not be pleased with her intervention, in the beginning anyway ( not pleased? Who was she trying to fool here? He would be fuming with rage at what he must consider no less than treason ) but that was a risk she just had to take if it was what it took to avoid a war.
It was the best option.
Everyone would get what they wanted- Thranduil his heirlooms, the people of Lake-town their share of the treasure to rebuild their new lives, and Thorin the king's jewel.
Kili, should he still live- which was something she couldn't stop hoping- could return to his family.
And most of all- nobody would have to die.
And when it was all over, Thorin would hopefully understand why she couldn't have acted otherwise and approve with her decision, or at least; forgive her for making it over his head.
It was a lot to hope considering the state he was in, but that couldn't be helped. The alternative would be worse.
Armed with a climbing rope and a hook to attach it to the wall of Erebor's front gate, Ella tiptoed her way along the battlement.
She had waited until nightfall, when Thorin had locked himself in his study for a war council with Balin, Dwalin and Gloin and would hopefully not notice her absence within the next hours.
At first she had thought about putting the ring on, but a rapple from the high stonewall in the dark was a dangerous enough maneuver even without a blurred and distorted sight, and it would serve no one if she ended up with a broken neck.
However, this had the disadvantage that the dwarf standing on guard might detect her and unfortunately, this was exactly what happened.
Still busy finding the best spot to climb down Ella did not notice Bofur until he noticed her.
She froze in her movements, the hand that wasn't holding the rope instinctively reaching for the ring in her pocket, but then she thought better of it.
If she vanished into thin air right before Bofur's eyes, he would either believe in an illusion caused by too much ale, or-more likely considering the dwarven ability to hold their drinks- scream alarm.
"Evening Ella," Bofur said as he walked closer."Mighty cold out here tonight. You should be inside."
"I just needed some air." came her lame excuse. "The place still stinks of dragon."
Bofur moved to the wall and looked out to the ruins of Dale. "The elves have moved their archers in the position," he said quietly. "The battle will be over by tomorrow's eve. Though I doubt we will live to see it."
He turned back to her. "No one could blame a soul for wishing themselves elsewhere."
Ella followed his gaze to the rope in her hand and gulped. "This isn't what it looks like-" she began.
"He won't either," Bofur continued, ignoring her half-hearted attempts to talk her way out of this. "This is no place for a woman and he knows it. I'm sure he'd be secretly relieved should he find out in the morning that you left to get yourself into safety."
He twisted his lips into a crooked grin. "Which doesn't mean I'd want to be the one accountable for it, mind you."
He touched his hat at her and turned to climb down the stairs into the castle.
"Bombur's got the next watch." he said meaningfully." It will take a bit to wake him."
Watching him leave, Ella swallowed the lump in her throat.
It was clear that Bofur believed she was going to save her own skin but he did not resent her for it, on the contrary, he even encouraged her to do just that.
And even though he had no hopes of surviving tomorrow's battle, it didn't seem to come to his mind to do the same.
And Bofur wasn't even Thorin's kin. He was just a fun-loving fellow with a certain thirst for adventure, not much unlike herself.
Apparently, this kind of unconditional loyalty wasn't reserved for the Durins but a general dwarven trait...
"Bofur," she called after him and he turned around to her once more.
She wanted to tell him that she wasn't the coward he took her for, that she didn't do this to save her own life but the ones of them all.
But she couldn't know for sure if he would approve of her plan and so she just said: "I'll see you in the morning."
Bofur just gave her a sad smile."Goodbye Ella," he replied softly.
Once she had safely reached the ground, Ella slipped the ring on her finger and made her way towards Dale.
As Bofur had said, the elven archers had their bows ready to fire and she had no intentions to be stopped by one of their arrows.
Inside the makeshift refugee camp, weary looking people were sitting around campfires with kettles of soup on them.
It didn't take long to make out the biggest tent which Ella assumed to be the one of the Elven King.
However, when she determinedly approached it, the tent's flaps opened and out came an all too familiar figure- albeit one she had not expected to find in this place.
Gandalf.
Initially pleasant surprise at his sight quickly turned to anger.
Where had he been all this time? And why was he here now, on the safe side, in the camp of their enemies?
The old wizard dropped his pipe and stared at her.
"Ella, child," he began and a smile spread across his weathered features. "I'm so happy to see you alive and well. What are you doing here?"
"I have business with the Elven king." she replied curtly and walked past him and towards the tent, leaving him no choice but to follow her back inside.
Thranduil sat on a big, richly ornamented chair in the back of the tent. Couldn't do without his throne, even with a battle in prospect, could he?
He stared at her in surprise, then his lips slowly curled into a faint smile.
"My dear lady hobbit, what a pleasure," he said in a honeyed voice. "I knew you would return to me."
Ella pressed her lips into a thin line in order to keep herself from giving a heated response that wouldn't serve her purpose.
"I came to give you this." she said firmly and stepped forwards to the table in front of him. She produced a bundle from her pocket and unwrapped the Arkenstone in it.
Thranduil rose from his chair. "The heart of the mountain," he whispered enraptured. "The king's jewel."
"And worth a king's ransom," Bard, who had entered the tent without her noticing, added before he turned to her. "Why would you do this? You owe us no loyalty."
"I'm not doing it for you," Ella said sharply. "Thorin values this stone above all else and in exchange for it I believe he will give you what you are owed. There will be no need for war."
Thranduil and Bard exchanged a quick look. Then, the Elven king turned back to Ella and nodded slowly.
Ella suppressed a sigh of relief. "Good," she said and looked the Elven king in the eye. "That settles that, then. Now, where's Kili? "
The handsome elf raised his dark brows and his hands. "That I do not know," he replied. "I did not lie to you about not having him here with me." He sighed. "As I said, my healers did their best to tend to his wounds and cleanse his blood from the orc poison that had tainted it, but when he was barely healed he took the first opportunity to escape from my custody- most likely in order to return to his kin. If he will make it or not I cannot say and it is no longer my responsibility."
"Then why have you not told Thorin this?" Ella gasped out. "They all think Kili is dead!"
The Elven King smiled frostily. "That wouldn't have been wise, would it?" he replied. "I did what I had to in order to avoid a war. Just like you do now, it would seem."
Ella left the tent, followed by Gandalf.
She had done all she could. It was bad news that she couldn't bring Kili home, but the good news was that he had still been alive when Thranduil had last seen him. She could only hope that he was well enough to make it back to the Erebor on his own and that he would not be ambushed by an orc pack on the road...
"Well," Gandalf said. "You did a good job. But the danger is far from over. Now, let's find you a bed and in the morning we will leave. Get us as far away from here as possible."
Ella stopped in her tracks and stared at him. "What are you talking about? I'm not leaving!"
The old sorcerer sighed. "Ella, your loyalty to these dwarves is most laudable but-"
"You talk about loyalty?" she interrupted him sharply."What about your loyalty, Gandalf? Tell me, where have you been when we were attacked by giant spiders in Mirkwood? And then when we were captured by Thranduil and imprisoned in his cells? Where have you been when we were attacked by orcs and then later, when we fought the dragon? We could have needed a bit of assistance with that, you know? But nevermind. You weren't there, and guess what?We managed without you and will continue to do so."
Taken aback by her harsh words, the old man stared at her. "I'm so sorry, Ella," he stammered. "I swear, I would have come to aid you -" he twisted his features into a pained grimace. "were it not for an unplanned stay in the cells of Dol Guldur-"
Ella raised her eyes to take a closer look at Gandalf's face. The wizard was ancient and never looked exactly as chipper as life itself, but she had to admit he really looked the worse for wear now.
"An old evil is about to rise," Gandalf began in a quiet voice. "Those orce who hunted you- that was no coincidence. There are things you do not know-"
Ella remembered his conversation with Lord Elrond in Rivendell. There had been talk of the Erebor as a place to strengthen their forces. Against who? Gandalf must have known more then he had let on, even then.
The image of a huge burning eye briefly flashed through her mind and now that she thought of it, he had known about the dragon sickness, too. Her anger returned.
"And how would I?" she snapped. "You never told us anything! It was you who sent us on this quest and now that we succeeded, you want to leave the dwarves to their fate?"
Suddenly, she saw the wizard through different eyes. The friendly old man who entertained hobbit children with fireworks was in truth a clever strategian who moved other people like figures on a chess board. For the purpose of a greater good probably, she would give him that, but in the end it did nothing to alter the fact that he had deliberately put all their lives at stake for his own mysterious agenda.
"If you had arrived a minute sooner, you would have noticed that I tried to keep Thranduil from attacking the Erebor just as you did," the old wizard replied a touch miffed. "But be that as it may, a battlefield is no place for a hobbit and I won't allow anything to happen to you. You there!" he called out to a rat-faced man whom Ella recognized as the former second of Lake-town's master.
"Find the lady a bed. And a good meal to fill her stomach. She has earned it."
He took the reluctant looking man aside and talked to him in a hushed tone, doubtlessly telling him to keep an eye on her and make sure she stayed in camp- which was something Ella had definitely no intentions to do.
Her place was with the company, now more than ever.
