A.N: Totally manufactured hobbit history ahoy. Also, altered dwarf history ahead too, Thorin I did leave Erebor and take his people with him, but it was several centuries later than this. I shifted the timeline to make it work with this story.
Chapter Twenty-Nine: Legolas
T.A. 1567 The Greenwood
Legolas marvels at the funny little creatures as they march along the path through the Greenwood. They're small, smaller even than the dwarves who recently abandoned their mountain in the north for their old strongholds in the Grey Mountains. Legolas doesn't know much about it, in truth, his attention has been elsewhere these last few centuries and the first he heard of it was his father cursing Thorin I for a fool in the weeks before Erebor emptied. This little race also lived near Erebor, around the base of the mountain in their funny homes under hills, and though they are of a size with the dwarves they are very different. Their ears are leaf shaped, their figures soft and rounded and their feet large and surprisingly hirsute given that they don't seem to grow hair anywhere else other than the thick curls on their heads. These peaceful creatures obviously relied on the dwarves of the mountain for protection, they are not built for war and even though there is a handful of archers among them their bows are small and obviously for hunting. Another reason for Thranduil to call Thorin fool.
They are secretive, these little beings (Periannath, his father calls them). Family groups with an abundance of children huddle close together and only the leaders, a stout family with males in possession of impressive sideburns, are bold enough to approach and request escort through the dense trees. The air around the three of them as they speak with his father is thick with some unknown power and their indigo eyes glow in the dimly lit throne room.
Thranduil grants them the escort they have requested after they answer his, rather reasonable, questions about their destination. The Periannath are leaving to find somewhere safe to raise their young and grow their crops. Somewhere they will not be forced to rely on the fickle protection of dwarves. Given what Legolas knows of dwarves he is surprised that any alliance has lasted as long as it did.
It takes nearly three centuries for anyone to notice that the harvests around Dale and Erebor (when it is resettled) aren't as abundant as they once were.
T.A. 2941 Mirkwood
Legolas stands in a shadowed doorway and watches as his closest friend sits and talks with one of the prisoners. Three days ago, the dark-haired creature had been flirting with her shamelessly while his companion scowled in the background (a sentiment Legolas agreed with completely), now his words are quiet and subdued. The light has seemingly left his eyes since the brother of Thorin Oakenshield was taken before Thranduil.
Thorin's rage had been quite the spectacular sight, it seemed not to matter that Frerin had been summoned for there is obviously some source of contention between the two which had allowed Oakenshield to conclude that his brother was working against him. No matter the evidence to the contrary when the younger returned and they all remained a prisoner. Frerin's refusal to be cowed in the face of his brother's rage is, frankly, impressive, as is his care for his perian wife. It's obvious that he cares for her deeply, far more than Legolas had believed possible based on what he knows of dwarves and his father's angry ravings about the possessive and jealous greed of dwarves for their gold and jewels. If one listened to Thranduil alone, one would be forced to conclude that dwarves have no capacity to love or cherish another living being. Yet Legolas' quiet observations of this group show how false that assumption is daily.
There are family groups in this unit. Brothers and cousins. Nephews. A mother and daughter. Nearly the entire royal family of Erebor is here, the elder line of Durin travelling in a desperate attempt to retake a lost home. At least, that's his father's theory. Thorin denies it, but the younger brother has almost confirmed it and, to Legolas' mind, Frerin has more cause to be truthful. He is the one with the pregnant wife after all.
Watching them, especially when they believe themselves alone, makes his father's new orders all the more distasteful. Yet Legolas must obey or lose his home regardless. Whatever this blight is that has begun to affect the earth, stone and trees around them over the last thousand years has also begun to creep into the minds of the older residents of the forest. It can only be a matter of time before it clouds his own thoughts and those of his friends equally as darkly. Legolas doesn't know how to fix it, or even if it can be, only that everything he holds dear is being lost to it (and the answer to the problem doesn't lie in the forest). It dances on the edges of his awareness even now, a shadow that calls seductively to him and he can understand how his father, who lives with the agony of losing the brightest part of his soul, must have easily accepted its tantalising caress.
The two periain, Legolas has noted, also seem to feel it but they do not welcome it. The older one, the mother, often wakes screaming of the death and sickness around her, of strangling vines of darkness that are dragging the life from the earth. The younger is quieter, restless, her silver rimmed indigo eyes glowing as she paces her cell. Legolas has watched her go for two days without rest, it is concerning and not just for the elf. The young blond dwarf, his eyes silver touched with flecks of indigo (a mystery to ponder another time) watches her from the cell opposite with concern. He speaks to her softly, lovingly, uses words in the harsh dwarf tongue that are clearly endearments, even though it sounds like the slide of gravel over a rock face to Legolas' ears. He often sings, his voice like the deep quaking of the earth and it soothes the perian girl into slumber for a short time. He loves the perian girl, Legolas realises, treasures her and the sentiment is obviously returned.
"We gain nothing from talking to her, Kili," the blond rebukes his companion once the guard has moved on.
"There's nothing else to do," Kili replies with a shrug and a roll of his head, "and it was worth a try at any rate."
"You've listened to too many of Nori's stories, nadadith," is the response, although his voice is raised so that the rest can hear. "I doubt he has flirted his way out of any many cells as he claims."
"I have and more besides!" Another voice shouts indignantly. "The little prince just needs more practice and less honesty." Several of the dwarves chuckle even though the speaker yelps, no doubt having met the fist of one of his cell mates.
"Not that it matters, Fili," Kili continues, ignoring the interruption. "I don't think even the most skilled of us could convince one of these elves to help us. They're nothing like the ones we met in Rivendell."
Legolas blinks at that piece of information. Elrond has to have been aware of the dwarves' destination. If he had allowed them to continue on regardless, and if Mithrandir is as involved as other conversations seem to have implied, perhaps there is more happening here than either Legolas or his father realise.
"I never would have thought I would have a preference in elves to visit," Fili chuckles. "Or that the ones in Rivendell would be sort of decent."
"Elrond was always the decent sort," Frerin joins the conversation, "and his sons are always good for a joke or a brawl when you need one, even if you didn't take to them all that well, Fili. They're good to have at your back in a fight too. Rivendell certainly wasn't the worst place I visited with Belladonna in the past but I'm glad we never bothered with this vile hole."
Had it just been the two of them Thranduil would probably have just let them go. Not that Legolas would expect them to believe that and it makes the keys in his hand weigh heavily in a clinking reminder of his father's orders and the measures in place to provide the opening needed. After nine days in the dungeons the prisoners all look healthier than they did when they were brought in and they are all restless, even though they still seem tired. For a change, however, they're all fairly peaceful at the moment. The noisy and ruder ones are either asleep of have put their attempts at being more than minor aggravations to one side.
-"You must do this, Legolas, do not think to defy me."- He hears his father's orders echo in his mind once more. –"Let us see how Thror's grandson likes being denied that which is rightfully his. Bring the Starlight Gems to me and bring the Arkenstone with them. We shall see if Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror knows how to beg."-
It is nothing more than petty revenge for an old slight, one likely forgotten by the descendants of the dwarf who gave the offense in the first place. His father, however, has always been patient and has waited a long time for this. Elrond, Legolas thinks, would be dismayed to see what Thranduil has become. Still, the elf prince has his orders and he will obey, although he fears Thorin is more likely to turn him away or run him through than to trust he has helped the dwarves out of the goodness of his heart. It's now or never, another opportunity will not present itself for a week and his father is not in the mood for Legolas to waste or ignore that which has been deliberately engineered for him.
"If I open this door," he says when he reaches the cell that holds Frerin, "will your people follow my instructions until we are out of my father's kingdom?"
"I can't speak for all of them, and we have no reason to trust you," the dwarf replies. They don't Legolas has noticed, look up by tilting their heads. Rather they turn their eyes up in a way that makes them appear to be permanently glaring.
"What my father is doing is wrong," Legolas says, even if the ardency of his tone comes from the fact that he is referring to what Thranduil has asked of him rather than the imprisonment of the dwarves and periain.
"Frerin," his companion lays a hand upon the arm of her dwarf husband and, bizarrely, the touch seems to make the fight drain out of him. "We have little choice and a deadline."
"He is an elf," Frerin spits, "a Mirkwood one." His obvious disgust hits him harder than Legolas thought it would.
"I know," she says, "and I know what his king did." Legolas knows it too, knows how his father turned away the homeless, injured and starving people of Erebor. It hadn't occurred to him to argue about it then, he wishes that he had now. "We can't hold onto the past if we want to get out of here. Don't give him reason to think he's wrong to help us."
Frerin sighs, hangs his head and closes his eyes before stepping back and nodding in acquiescence. Legolas finds himself extremely grateful for the level-headed perian woman.
"Give me the keys," she says to him as she steps out of the cell, "you'll have this argument with all of them otherwise."
"I'd do as she says," Frerin smirks. "Even if they don't argue Dwalin, at least, is likely to just take them from you and lock you up. We'd probably never find our way out of this rabbit warren then."
Truth be told, Legolas doesn't like the idea of trying a further nine times to convince the dwarves in their cells to behave if he lets them out. They have enough time for Belladonna to try the keys until she finds the right one, so he hands them to her and watches her bustle away to complete her task. It places him in the perfect position to witness the reunion of the Company and that forces him to rethink his opinion of dwarves once again.
He watches as the other perian throws her arms around Frerin with a cry of 'Adad', the two young princes who regard Legolas warily but greet Frerin with almost as much fondness as the perian. Sees Fili take the girl in his arms and kiss her in a way that has Legolas blushing to the tips of his ears (much to his surprise) and causes her dwarf father to clear his throat meaningfully with a poorly concealed smirk. One by one, or occasionally in twos or threes, the rest join them and Legolas experiences discomfort like he never has before. He likes to think that in many ways he is as unflappable as his father, but with thirteen dwarves glaring at him he realises just how wrong he was (particularly under the gaze of the one who styles his hair into three points, his green eyes seem to see far more than they should).
"Traitor!" Thorin Oakenshields now familiar voice roars as he approaches. "You would ally yourself with these? Over your own kin?"
"Uncle, can we discuss this once we are out of Thranduil's dungeons?" Fili steps in as Frerin tenses for a fight. Privately Legolas agrees with the younger prince, for all the good his opinion will do, but he has seen enough of Frerin and Thorin, both, to know that neither will be easy to redirect.
"My wife is with child, Thorin," Frerin snarls, ignoring his wife's gestures for him to let the topic lie. "Would you have me do nothing now I've been given the chance? Would you have my child born in these cursed dungeons never to see the sun or the halls of his forefathers?"
"You forget your place," Thorin snaps.
"My place is with Belladonna, as it has been these last forty years and as it should have been the seventy before that! Remembering my place and my duty nearly cost me my One, I won't make that mistake again!"
There is a story here, Legolas thinks. As fascinating a distraction as this might prove, however, this is neither the time nor the place.
"This has nothing to do with your brother," Legolas cuts in. "Our time is limited. If you wish to leave my father's halls you would do well to end this discussion and follow me. Otherwise you may as well return to your cells."
"He's right," the old, white-haired, one cuts in before the others can. "I don't like it either, but we won't get out of here without help and our deadline is rather pressing."
This is the second time a deadline has been mentioned, except Legolas suspects this one is not the same as the perian woman mentioned. He is missing too much information, even with the little he had been able to glean in the first place. The more he realises how little he knows, the more he dislikes his father's plan.
"Very well," Thorin hisses and turns icy eyes back to Legolas. "But know I will kill you should you play us false."
Not promising, but about what Legolas has come to expect.
"Would it make you feel better if we retrieved your weapons first?" He asks.
A.N: No elves for Kili. Not that Fili would have let it get all that far while in the same cell as him.