Chapter 5: T.A. 2770 – Something Of Yours
"My lord!"
The Lord of Greenwood was on his way from the halls of healing back to his study, when the captain of the guard caught up with him, greeting him with a respectful nod: "My lord, we finally received news, where Thror led his kin to."
Thranduil stopped and turned on his heels, his eyes slightly widened in expectation when he responded: "They can't have gotten that far. Most of them will have to travel by foot."
"That is true. The king and his people follow the Celduin south. They passed Long Lake and crossed the Forest River."
"South?" The king frowned.
"Yes, my lord! They'll pass the outskirts of your realm and then trek further south."
Thranduil kept silent over this news. To him there was no sense in leading the survivors of the disaster that had befallen Erebor south. If they would follow Thror on this path, all they would find would be the Brown Lands, the barren wastelands which spread between the Ash Mountains and the part of his realm which was now known amongst the woodmen as Mirkwood.
No tree grew there any more, no bushes, after Sauron had devastated the plains during the battle of the last alliance at the end of the Second Age and all that was left was a rather endless desert.
He had been there, he had witnessed what the wrath of the deceiver had caused, and there was no reason which would ever justify leading a still paralysed people into the nowhere – close to the fields of Dagorlad and close to the Emyn Muil, the Dead Marshes...
When he noticed that the captain of the guard still waited for an answer, he looked up and said: "If that is true, if the dwarves are still that close, we will return his grandchildren to Thror as long as he and his kin are still in reach."
"What are your orders for the guard then?"
"I want you to have my horse and armour ready. I'll leave with sunrise."
The captain of the guard looked at him in utter surprise, but he swallowed another question and replied instead: "You'll find your escort ready as ordered!" He hinted a bow and was already on his way to leave when he hesitated and turned round to however ask: "What are those dwarves to you, my lord, that you'll take them back to their kin yourself? Would it not be enough to return them to Thror escorted by a handful of your guards?"
"I won't take the risk that Thror might take it for an offence. He shall learn that it was the wish of their mother, which led them to my halls and that no one forced the young dwarves to stay here – amongst elves."
The night was calm and peaceful and a starlit sky spread over the Woodland Realm and the halls of the elvenking like a cape of black velvet trimmed with countless of the purest of diamonds. A slight breeze made the leaves of the trees rustle and the pale light of a full midsummer moon silvered everything it was able to reach, even the tall and elegant figure that silhouetted against it.
Thranduil stood motionless when the gentle breeze caressed his cheeks and when his face got bathed in the soft light. He didn't mind, he possibly didn't even notice, while his gaze was fixed on the stars and while his thoughts were travelling back in time again as they did so often.
Memories of bygone ages found him, and not all of them were meant to ease his mind or to lighten his heart, but to his own surprise they vanished quickly tonight and he felt himself presented with images of love and sweetness – memories, which did not leave him with the bittersweet taste of loss and despair this time as they did so many times before.
And it was within this moment, that he asked himself why he really cared about those two young dwarves. They had nothing in common. Nothing...
"They told me I must leave when the sun rises. Is that true? 'Cause, if it is true, I don't want it to rise...not so soon..."
Thranduil turned round at the sound of her voice and he admitted to himself that he was glad that she wasn't able to see him smile within this moment. He had almost gotten used to her showing up out of the nothingness and he wondered half in amusement and half in astonishment how she accomplished to escape the watchful eyes of his healers and guards again and again.
Maybe it was because she was that small.
Even now she had to reef the skirts of her nightgown for not to stumble upon it while she stepped closer on bare feet. It was still too long, although it got seamed for an elfling, but, of course, she was no elfling and therefore she looked a bit lost dressed like this.
Nonetheless, he decided to remain serious and that was why he replied: "Yes, young daughter of Thrain, that is true. You'll take your leave in the morning. You have to return to your family."
"I cannot go back. Mama isn't there."
"But don't you think your father and grandfather will miss you as well? And so will your brother."
"Yes", she said: "but", and even within the pale moonlight he was able to spot the sadness mirrored within her eyes: "whereto shall we go? We have no home any more. The dragon made it his home now."
"Your grandfather is a strong leader, little princess. I know him for many years and I am sure, he will find a new home for you and all of your kin."
"That will be far from Dale and from the mountain and from you..."
"That it will be, but if you'll keep your memories safe in here", he placed a hand over his heart: "no one can take them away from you."
She dropped down on the floor, dragged the nightgown over her knees and her feet and wrapped her arms round her knees, staring at him in awe: "Then it is like a treasure chest?"
"Kind of", he slowly nodded: "and your memories are like the sparkling gems in it."
"Like the treasure chest and the sparkling gems my grandfather keeps for you?"
Thranduil let out a surprised gasp and he felt his jaw drop open at her words. "How do you know", he asked.
Dis giggled: "Have you already forgotten? I watched you from a hideout when you came to see my grandfather...was this why you have been sad? Because he kept the chest with your memories away from you?"
He should have felt angry or upset, but the innocence she was talking with was disarming and therefore he knelt down in front of her and responded: "Yes, that was the reason. My heart and my memories are far away from me now."
She thought about it for a while and kept silent while she bit her lower lip, then, after a while, she said being all stern: "Don't be sad. You said you cannot lose your memories as long as they are safe in here...", she got up and the tiny hand reached out to touch his chest: "And maybe it is better you have them here and not in a chest."
"What makes you think so?"
"You know, my grandfather has a big gem. It's all shiny and white, but I don't like it..."
"Why?"
"He loves it more than me and Frerin and Thorin. He loves all his gold more than us. He makes us all sad..."
Thranduil beheld her. And for the first time he thought, that he might have done her wrong. She was still a dwarfling but she had witnessed and she understood that her grandfather had changed and also why.
Could it be that not all dwarves were greedy and filthy creatures who only cared for gold and riches?
Before he was able to give her a reply, she turned round and ran away.
He blinked, puzzled as she didn't say a word, and even more bemused when she returned only a few moments later.
It was first when she handed a small box over to him, that he understood.
He opened its lid and although only the silvery moonlight flooded the room, he knew what it was she wanted to present him with.
The small chest was filled with some beautiful jewels – rings, earrings, necklaces and bracelets – and with something way more valuable: "You want me to have your memories?"
"Yes", she said: "Until you can get your own back."
It was late the next day when the elvenking and his escort reached the camp the exiled dwarves of Erebor had built for the night.
The captain of the guard had been right: They had found King Thror and his people near the banks of the Celduin and as expected the welcome had neither been warm nor heartfelt.
They got eyed distrustfully when they asked for Thror and it didn't need long until the tired and exhausted dwarves formed and alley to let their king pass.
Thranduil got off his horse and hinted a bow when he approached the mighty dwarf lord: "Greetings, Thror, King under Mountain!"
Thror's eyes narrowed as he stared at the elvenking: "What leads you here, Thranduil, Lord of Mirkwood?"
Just a small twitch of Thranduil's cheek revealed that this insult hit its aim, but he just inhaled a deep breath and smiled: "I am here to return something of yours to you. My guards found it close to the gates of my halls and I dared to keep it for a while until it would endure getting taken back to you."
"What could you carry with you that could have a meaning to me or could be of value to me? Can you return my kingdom to me? Can you return their home to them? Can you return the treasure to my kin?"
"Neither!" Thranduil responded: "But I thought you might feel relief if I return your son's children to you!"
He waved his escort to give way to the two young dwarves and the eyes of the dwarven king widened when he found them healthy and in a good shape, but it was Thorin, the firstborn of his son, who pushed past the royal guards to pull both, his brother and sister, in his arms, his eyes tearing up in relief.
Thror watched this reunion stoic and rather motionless, and his bearing was still hostile and dismissive, when he finally nodded and answered: "We owe you thanks then, for having kept them save, but there is nothing else we owe you. So, tell me, Thranduil Elvenking, what else brought you here?"
"Concern! Concern about your people! You'll lead your people south. That will lead you straight to the Brown Lands, the barren wastelands. Why don't you unite with your brother's kin in the Iron Hills? You could spare your people from hunger and other inconveniences."
"Since when does Thranduil feel concern for the Khazad?"
"Since when forgets the Lord of the Khazad about old alliances?"
"Don't talk to me about the old alliances! You'll agree that it is a strange way to show your concern by leaving a whole people to die. You'll not tell me how to care about my kin!"
"Do as you like, Thror, son of Dain. Lead your people south, but do not say I did not warn you, should we ever meet again! Farewell, King under the Mountain, may fair winds be upon you!"
Thranduil turned round and waved his escort to follow him.
His last gaze was meant for the little princess, when he placed his hand over his heart and when he greeted her, convinced that he'd never meet her again...