Chapter Thirty-Three: The Ugly Girl at Prom

Emelia was acutely aware of the obnoxious sounds of her chewing in the virtually quiet hall. It made the entire dinner ordeal that much more awkward. She kept her gaze on her plate, moving her half eaten pile of potatoes around with her fork. She hadn't even touched the small venison steak. She had been excited when she saw it being set in front of her. Half an hour later and her feelings were not quite the same. She was thankful that the King preferred to take his meals in a nice open area. It gave her plenty to look at besides the elves sitting around her. Tauriel did not seem to be of the same opinion. She had been shooting her weird looks the entire time. Emelia was tempted to kick her legs under the table, just to get the infuriating elf to stop but she didn't trust herself not to accidently kick Legolas, or even worse, the King.

"You have hardly touched your food, Emelia." Tauriel's voice interrupted Emelia, who had been creating swirling patterns in the now cold gravy on her potatoes. "Beyond treating it as your own personal canvas, that is."

Emelia thought Tauriel might be a bit too cheeky for her own good. She knew that was like calling the kettle black so she kept her thoughts to herself. She looked over at the other redhead, making a face at her that most would consider rude.

"I hope you are enjoying your stay thus far." Thranduil spoke, drawing Emelia's attention away from Tauriel. He had his long hands folded underneath his chin. He was gazing at Emelia, a calculating look on his smooth face. "There have been very little disturbance coming from your room, as of late."

Emelia resisted the urge to ask what disturbances she had caused in the first place. "I have been settling in."

"I am pleased to hear that." She wondered if he knew his face didn't move when he spoke.

No one spoke after that. Emelia wasn't quite sure what she was supposed to say. He made it seem like she was something beyond a glorified prisoner. Emelia knew, without a doubt, that she was. Guests didn't usually have four armed guards outside of their door at all hours of the day. Her hands fidgeted; itching for something to do to stave the discomfort she was feeling. She picked up her goblet of water, taking a throaty gulp of the room-temperature liquid. It resonated through the silence that had followed Thranduil's words awkwardly.

"I had hoped to learn a bit more about you."

"What would you like to know?" Emelia asked, glancing at Tauriel as she did so. As much as the female elf annoyed her, she found she was happy Tauriel was there. Even when she was being a perpetual thorn in Emelia's side, there had been moments, brief little time periods in which Emelia had almost liked Tauriel.

"Where do you come from?"

"The north. By the ocean." She said. She had had the dwarves misunderstand her and where she comes from far too many times to not have learned. As sad as it was, nobody in Middle Earth knew what or where Kessog, Alaska was. "My family are ice fishers."

"Fascinating."

"I guess. Most would call it boring."

"You misunderstand me, Emelia. I merely meant that it is quite fascinating that a child from the north, a child from such humble beginnings, would have found herself thrown in with such a group."

"Excuse me?" Emelia wasn't sure why she was so annoyed by being repeatedly called a child.

"Where did the dwarves find you?"

Emelia clenched her hands together in her lap. "I was by a river when they found me."

"And you have been with them since."

"I don't really want to talk about them." Emelia said, hoping the pained look on her face came across as stemming from dislike for the dwarves rather than the actual truth.

"You will have to forgive me."

Emelia looked back at her plate. She was supposed to be charming them enough for them to let her out of her room. That obviously wasn't happening in the way she would have liked. Bacon and Eggs, she had to remind herself. She had the sudden imagine of Bilbo flitting about, apparently able to turn invisible now, looking for the dwarves. It wouldn't really matter if she didn't hold up her end of the bargain. It wouldn't really matter if she couldn't convince the King to allow her out of her room for more than just awkward dinners.

Emelia looked up, taking in the area in which they were eating dinner in full for the first time. It was minimally lit, which gave it a cozy feel that Emelia couldn't help but think rang false. She did notice that there were barrels upon barrels stacked in the corner near an arched door that led to an unknown place. She watched as a couple of elves, dressed in something different than the elves that had been guarding her room, shifted the barrels onto their sides. The elves looked like they were servants, of some sort.

"Pardon the distraction they are causing. We have a rather large festival coming up in two days' time."

"Festival?" Emelia asked, looking away from the elf that was currently rolling a barrel down the hallway that led to nowhere.

"Mareth-en-Gilith." Thranduil said, looking genuinely pleased about something for the first time. "The festival of light." Thranduil clarified upon seeing the confused look on Emelia's face.

"Sounds exciting." Emelia thought that something that centered on celebrating light would have to be pretty. She would like to see something pretty.

"Would you like to go?" Thranduil asked, surprising both Emelia and the other two elves at the table. Emelia opened her mouth, thinking how to respond, before she closed it again. It was perfect. Bilbo had said to try and get out of her room. A party was about as good an excuse as any. She was a bit confused however. It seemed too perfect. There had to be some sort of catch, some sort of reason that he would suddenly be generous enough to let her out of her room. She narrowed her eyes considerably, suspicion filling her up.

"I...well…yeah I'd love to go."

"Wonderful." Thranduil looked at her for a moment too long before he turned suddenly to address the other two elves. "I want a private word with Miss Montgomery." The other two, while allowing themselves to look confused for the briefest of moments, stood up instantly.

"I will see to the shipments coming in." Legolas said, speaking for the first time during the meal. He had not been enthusiastic to see her at the table and had, therefore, spent most of his meal in stony silence. He looked her over once, a mistrusting look on his handsome face, before he left. His plate of food, which was mostly empty, was cleared away almost instantly by a serving elf. Tauriel lingered a bit longer, folding her hands in front of her.

"Tauriel, leave us."

Tauriel looked as if she wanted to say something. She thought better of it, apparently. She walked gracefully out of the room, leaving Emelia wishing she wouldn't have left at all. Thranduil scared her. There was no other way of describing it. She would have given anything to avoid being left alone with him. Emelia picked at the skin by her thumb nail, waiting for Thranduil was going to say to her. She wondered, briefly, if he was going to tell her that she was going to be able to leave soon. The thought quickly left her mind when she remembered that Thranduil was far too clever and seemingly conniving to let her walk away scot-free.

"Take a walk with me, Emelia."

All of the stranger-danger talks she had received as little girl, which had always seemed a little unnecessary in Kessog, flashed across her mind. Her hands shock violently as she stood up to follow after him to an unknown location. Maybe he was going to kill her to tie up some loose ends. Maybe he was going to throw her into a cell and be done with the whole pretense of her being a guest. Maybe he wasn't going to do anything at all and she was simply overreacting like she always did. Regardless, she couldn't stop her limbs from shaking like a newborn deer. She moved to stand next to him, allowing enough room between them that she could feasibly make a run for it, if it should come to that. She didn't imagine that it would, but it was sort of her involuntary way of operating as of late.

She wondered, as a way of calming herself down, when she had become so twitchy.

Thranduil left the table they had been eating for the servants to take care of. "I'd like to show you something. I think you will find it illuminating."

She avoided looking at him directly. She kept her gaze on the ends of his ornate robes when she wasn't looking around at all the hallways they were passing by. Emelia almost ran into him when he stopped suddenly after leading her around for what she thought felt like fifteen Minutes or so. He was standing on the edge of a platform that looked down into a seemingly endless labyrinth of steps and other smaller landings. He stepped aside for her. She moved closer, hoping that he wasn't planning on pushing her over the side just for kicks. She peered down, holding her arms tightly to her sides. She looked at them for a moment, trying to decide what she was supposed to be gathering from it before she gave up.

"What it is?" Emelia asked, leaning back to address Thranduil with a cautious voice.

"You will notice, if you look closely enough, that were are standing above some of the numerous cells in the Woodland Realm."

Emelia leaned back farther, knowing deep in her gut that this was not a place she wanted to be.

"Your dwarvish friends are down there." Thranduil said simply. "Excuse me, your dwarvish kidnappers are down there."

"I…"

"I am not interested in any explanation you have to offer." Thranduil said flippantly with a wave of his hand. "I am only interested in clarifying the situation for you." Emelia picked at the skin by her nail even more furiously, completely oblivious to the fact that she had drawn blood. She chewed on the inside of her lip, looking at the floor like it was the most interesting thing in the entire world. "Those dwarves are singularly focused on returning to Erebor to recover the treasure that they believe is solely theirs."

"Isn't it?" Emelia asked, despite telling herself that she was going to keep quiet.

"No it is not." He sounded angry, which made Emelia instantly regret speaking at all. He composed himself, turning to look down at her. "I have a proposal for you and I think you would be wise to accept."

Emelia thought seriously about running. Her mother had always said that there was no shame in running away. Emelia had always thought that was a cowardly thing to say. Emelia realized, in that moment, that her mother had been right all along. Running away seemed like such a good, safe option.

"I am going to allow them to leave, out of goodness, in order to reclaim their home in Erebor. You will accompany them."

"What? N…"

"You will secure for me the share of the treasure that belongs to this realm and no other. No dwarf had a right to take it, and they have even less of a right to keep it hidden from my people." Emelia was certain she was about to collapse. Her legs felt as if they could no longer support her. She had to step back from the ledge to keep from teetering off the side.

"I can't do that." Emelia said, knowing that any possibility of being let out of her room again was now officially off the table.

"Emelia, you must me think me terribly unintelligent."

"No."

"Then you must know that I am not asking. I am telling you. If you do not comply, I will lock you away so deep that no one will ever be able to find you, even if there was someone bothered enough to try."

Emelia wondered if it was possible to die from lack of sleep. She imagined she might be heading that direction. She was lying on her side, ignoring Bilbo's cold toes pressed against her calves, staring at the empty off-white wall in front of her. He was snoring slightly, making her envious of his ability to fall asleep despite everything. He didn't have Thranduil's threat bouncing about in his head like she did. It had been two days and she still couldn't stop hearing it, she still couldn't stop thinking about it.

It was sometime in the early morning, but she didn't care. All of the hours seemed to run together in an impossibly hard to understand blur. She kicked Bilbo's legs off her side of the bed, rolling over to look at the ceiling. Mareth-en-Gilith was tonight. Bilbo's plan was happening that night. Everything was happening that night and it felt like she was shutting down. The ceiling felt much closer than it normally did, just as the sheets felt like they were holding onto more heat than usual. She was tempted to push Bilbo out of the bed entirely just the relieve the claustrophobia that she was feeling, but she instantly thought better of that. He had been very kind to her, having not said a single thing about her moody attitude.

Emelia rolled over to face him, propping her arm up on her pillow. She knew she should have been scandalized about sharing a bed with a man like person, even one so small as Bilbo. Her mother would have been, if she knew. She wasn't however. In fact, she wasn't sure she would have survived much longer without him there to comfort her.

"You should be sleeping, Emelia." Bilbo said, keeping his eyes shut. "You haven't for days."

"I can't." She breathed out, her thoughts switching over to what they were planning for that evening. "I'm scared."

"I know. I am too." He finally opened his eyes. "But our plan will work."

"How on earth am I supposed to distract the butler long enough for you to get the key?" Emelia asked, doubting, once again, the effectiveness of their plan. In all honesty, it was a majority of the reason she stayed awake at night.

"I find you are capable of a special type of charm that is uniquely distracting." Bilbo sounded exhausted. Emelia instantly felt bad for burdening him with her own issues, when she knew that he was dealing with so many of his own. The dwarves expected him to get them out on his own, probably having given up on her entirely. "You just have to be yourself and the rest will fall into place the way it needs to, I am certain."

"You're very sweet and totally full of bullshit."

Bilbo laughed quietly. "The dwarves will forgive you, Emelia. I know you are scared that when it comes down to it that they won't take you back, but you shouldn't think about that too much."

"I am scared of everything and the dwarves are only a part of that. I don't know why, but it seems like it's getting worse. All of this seems so much worse than the trolls, and I can't help but think that's really messed up. Why should elves scare me more than some dodgy Goblin King? It's like my insides are constantly shriveling up and eventually I'm not going to be able to move anymore because I'm too afraid to." Emelia buried her face in her thin pillow, breathing heavily.

"Ignore what the King said. He's letting you out tonight and we're leaving. He won't be able to force you to do anything, let alone steal treasure from the dwarves." Bilbo paused, shifting the blankets around. "You will cause yourself to go insane with these thoughts, Em." Bilbo used her nickname for what she thought was the first time, causing Emelia to feel even more affection for the little hobbit.

"I think I might already be there."

"Regardless…"

"No, Bilbo. I'm serious. I've never felt so out of control of my own life before. I can't get a handle on anything."

"Well, it's a good thing you aren't required to do it alone, now isn't it?" Bilbo said that in a way that effectively ended the conversation. "Now, try and sleep. You'll need your wits about you tonight."

Tauriel and Emelia stared at each other awkwardly, both waiting for the other to speak first. The two maids that had come into the room with her ignored the slight standoff pointedly. They seemed very sour about having to prepare Emelia for Mareth-en-Gilith. Bilbo had, thankfully, left to go scout some last minute details. Emelia wasn't sure she could have handled it if Bilbo had been present for her latest bought of mortification. It was bad enough having Tauriel there, as it were.

"It is just a dress."

"I'm tired of wearing dresses. You aren't wearing a dress, why should I?" Emelia asked, crossing her arms over her chest. "This muumuu is enough to turn me off the whole concept forever." Emelia gestured down to the dress she was currently wearing, a look of disdain crossing her face.

"If you would stop complaining long enough, I would have offered you an alternative."

"The bath is ready."

"Undress." Emelia dropped the dress of her body as quickly as possible. She had finally given up objecting to being naked in front of the female elves. They didn't seem to mind, even if she did.

"I though you would fit into something old of mine. When I was an elleth I was never very fond of dresses, so the seamstresses made me a little something special." Emelia stepped into the bath, only half-listening to Tauriel. Even if she didn't mind being naked in front of them, she still wasn't entirely comfortable with conversing with them. The maids stood against the wall, looking as if there was no place in the world they would rather be less.

"I think it will fit you." Tauriel pulled it out from behind her. It wasn't a dress, so Emelia didn't really care what it was. Anything would be an improvement. It was startlingly similar to what Tauriel was wearing, only much smaller and much less lethal looking. It did look like it was made for a child, which instantly made Emelia look down at her own body in the water. She supposed to an elf she was only the size of a child, as depressing as that thought was.

"You are being eerily nice." Emelia said thoughtfully, scrubbing the bottom of her foot. She tried to subtly clean up her nether regions after that, trying her best to do so without any of the elves noticing.

"I do not want you to be unhappy here."

"Am I going to be here for a while?" Emelia paused with her scrubbing, looking across the room at Tauriel. If her plans with Bilbo worked out, she wouldn't be in Mirkwood longer than a day. The thought made her more excited than she could put into words. It made her almost as excited as she when she thought about being able to see the dwarves again. She had lost count of how many days she had gone without them. She knew it was too many.

"Yes, you will be."

"That's bloody fantastic." Emelia said, doing her best to sound bitter about the prospect. She couldn't be, truly. She was too excited about leaving to be bitter. "I mean that in the best possible way, of course."

"I have not been very nice to you."

"Well, no."

"I think we are similar, in a way, and I was hoping that we might start anew." Tauriel looked and sounded truly genuine. It made Emelia feel slightly bad about being so excited about leaving. She didn't feel bad enough to reconsider, not in the slightest. She hated Mirkwood, every single thing about it made her palms sweat and her stomach churn with anxiety.

"I think we're both obnoxious, if that's the similarity you're talking about."

Tauriel smiled.

"Come out, the celebration has already started. You need to get dressed."

Those words caused a bubble of excitement and apprehension to build in her stomach. The excitement quickly gave way to the ever increasing fear she had come to expect to be constantly present. She couldn't help but think that Bilbo thought a bit too highly of her to think that she could pull of the feat he expected of her. She had been repeating their mantra, Bacon and Eggs, over and over again once Bilbo had told her the plan. It seemed absurd, using barrels and whatnot, but she hoped it was the sort of absurdity that would work in their favor.

The maids moved forward, one holding a towel, one holding the outfit.

Emelia felt oddly like the ugly girl at the prom when all was said and done. The maids looked beautiful, if not bitter, in their dresses. Tauriel looked more beautiful, even though she was wearing the same outfit Emelia had always seen her in. Emelia looked awkward, for lack of a better term. The pants were a bit too big and sagged in odd places, and the molded leather breast plate was a little too small, causing her breasts to push up uncomfortably. Emelia looked down at her gangly self, choosing, in that moment, to focus on more important things than her physical appearance. It wasn't as if any of the elves would be noticing her for her beauty, or whatever was left of it, anyway. They would be too busy enjoying their festival to notice her, and that was something she was thankful for.

The less noticeable she was, the easier it would be for her to slip away and leave Mirkwood entirely.

Emelia wasn't sure she trusted Bilbo's plan. It was a bit ludicrous, if Emelia was being perfectly frank. Barrels. Empty wine barrels, of all things. Emelia, who had finally been able to slip away from the rather raucous party, stared at them critically from her spot under the stairs.

Normally Emelia would have quite enjoyed herself at a party. She had never really been to one before. It was an odd thing, but the elves seemed to know how to let loose in a way that Emelia would have never imagined. There was a lot more drinking, and a lot more eating, and a lot more dancing than she would have pictured. In her mind they were the kind that had wine and cheese tastings before retiring to their knitting patterns. Mareth-en-Gilith was not like anything she would have expected.

Emelia had stood against the wall, feeling even more like she was at a prom out of an 80s' movie, before she finally decided she couldn't delay the inevitable any longer then she already had.

Emelia shifted in her spot, knowing full well that Bilbo was waiting for her to do her part of the plan. She wasn't sure what she imagined when she thought about getting the dwarves out, but getting the butlers drunk was certainly not it. The two butlers, freakishly tall brunettes with upturned noses, had already sent up three more barrels of wine in the time that she had been crouched under the stairs. She could see the empty barrels that Bilbo planned on using stacked up in the middle of the room. They seemed to her as if they were missing something. Dwarves to fill them up, maybe.

The butlers had yet to take note of her presence. She knew she would need to change that if they were going to succeed. Eventually it would be too late, and she wasn't willing to allow that to happen. She wasn't willing to allow something else to add itself to her list of failures.

She stood up, forcing her breathing to return to less suspicious levels. Emelia screwed her face up into a charming smile as she fluffed her now boyish hair. She knew they were not likely to be attracted to her in the way that would have made her task easier. She looked too much like a prepubescent boy for that. But she hoped she might be able to ply them with enough wine on the basis of her human curiosity about the ways of elvish culture.

The butlers looked at her with confused expressions as she disentangled herself from the rope she had mistakenly gotten caught on. She could feel their gazes on her as she righted herself, a terrible blush on her face. It felt like an eternity before she was finally able to stand up straight in front of them.

"Er, hi." Emelia said, fixing them with an awkwardly wide smile.

"You are the human." The taller of the two said, narrowing his eyes at her. "You are much smaller than was described."

"I was described?" Emelia asked, taking a few tentative steps towards the two of them.

"You and the dwarves are all the kingdom seems to talk about." The other one said. Emelia was happy to see that they were both much nicer than she would have expected. In fact, judging by the looks on their faces, they seemed almost excited by her.

"Why aren't you at Mareth-en-Gilith?" Emelia asked, daring to seat herself at the small table against the wall. They both laughed about something, which made Emelia think she had committed some sort of cultural faux pas. She instantly stood up, scratching the back of her neck awkwardly.

"It is pronounced Mareth-en-Gilith." The taller one said.

"That's what I said. Mareth-en-Gilith." They laughed again. Emelia felt herself sour towards the two of them ever so slightly. She sat back down, folding her arms across her chest.

"I am in charge of testing the King's wine and making sure cups never run dry." Emelia picked at the wood of the table, thinking about how best to get the two of them to start drinking, as she listened to the shorter of the two.

"And you don't get any for yourself?" It sounded cheesy, and forced, and entirely transparent, but she tried anyway.

"I sip a bit from the top now and them."

"I'd like to try some, if you don't mind. I've never had elvish wine." Emelia smiled as brightly as she could muster. "Only if you'd join me, of course."

They seemed to debate for a moment. The shorter one looked at the stairs that spiraled up to the walkway, as if waiting for someone to catch him fraternizing with the odd human female, before he allowed himself to smile slightly at her. The other one seemed to have no issue at all. In fact, he seemed downright delighted at the idea.

"I had been hoping to try the new wine the King procured. Say what you will about him, but he always seems to have such impeccable taste."

Emelia let out a small, shuttering breath. She glanced around the room as they went to get three glasses and the decanter of wine. She took in everything she could while they weren't looking at her, hoping beyond a hope that Bilbo could see that she was doing her part of Bacon and Eggs. It took all of her willpower not the cry with excitement when she saw the keys hanging on the hook. She wondered briefly why they were down there until she looked over at the taller one more closely. He wasn't dressed the same as the short one. He wore clothes startlingly similar to Tauriel, now that she was really looking at him.

Emelia was forced back to paying attention to the two elves when they set a small glass of wine in front of her. She wasn't sure why, but she hadn't actually planned on drinking. It seemed she wouldn't be able to avoid it, however. She picked up the cold glass, taking note of how much more wine the other two had in front of them, before she lifted her own up in front of her.

"Prost." Emelia said, lifting the glass up to her lips. "Or whatever the hell you elves say."

Emelia never thought she would be proud to get someone drunk, but there she was, grinning like an idiot at the two elves. They had said they were only going to drink one, but that notion had quickly been forgotten around the time of their sixth glass. Emelia had stopped after one, claiming that it made her feel slightly nauseous. They had gotten giggly, for a bit, before they had slumped over onto the table without another word after an hour of solid drinking. She couldn't shake the feeling that she had taken advantage of their pleasantness.

Bilbo didn't seem to notice, or care, seeing as how he had taken the keys off the hook next to the guard ten minutes ago.

She hadn't been able to stop fidgeting since.

They were coming, the dwarves were really coming. It all seemed to be happening too fast. She had been thinking about getting them out for what felt like an eternity, and now they were hopefully on their way currently. She refused to allow herself to become excited until she saw them standing in front of her. So much could go wrong while she sat there waiting for them. They could get caught, or fall off one of the platforms, or accidentally end up getting lost in the labyrinth of halls for hours.

"The cellars, he's led us to the cellars!" Emelia, who had been in the process of quietly attempting to get off her chair without waking the two elves, promptly stumbled onto the floor. She knew that voice. She had thought about the owner for that voice for days on end. She had thought she might not ever see him again. Kili. He was there, in the flesh. All of them were.

"What was that?" Another voice said, slightly quieter than Kili. "What was that banging?" Emelia scrambled up to her feet, annoyed she had little control she had over her muscles. "It sounded like a large rat."

"Or an Emelia."

All of the dwarves were looking at her, varying degrees of anger on their faces. Fili seemed the least angry to see her, Dwalin the most. She hardly had time to process their emotions before she Dwalin was crossing the small room with stomping strides. Her mouth dropped open into an 'o' of surprise when he grabbed her arms roughly, slamming her against the nearest beam.

"You little traitor." He hissed at her, squeezing her arms tight enough to bruise. "You snake. We trusted you, we protected you, and this is how you repay us? By claiming we kidnapped you? How dare you!"

"Dwalin, release her." Dwalin did not seem to hear Thorin's voice. He pressed her against the beam harder, pushing until she thought it might snap. "Now!" It was only at the authoritative tone in Thorin's voice that Dwalin stepped back from Emelia, looking as if he very much wanted to hit her across the face for good measure. Emelia released the breath she didn't realize she had been holding once she thought he was a safe distance from her. She knew she should be appalled that he would grab her like that, but she wasn't. She completely understood.

They had every right to hate her.

"Are you hurt, Emelia?" Emelia looked up from the ground, focusing on Thorin.

"I'm fine."

"Right, I'm sure we'll have time to sort out all the domestic matters later, but for now, all of you need to get in the barrels." Bilbo said, sounding both panicky and annoyed. He was eyeing Dwalin with what Emelia knew to be anger.

"She's not coming is she?" Gloin asked, glaring at Emelia with malice she didn't know he possessed.

"And why wouldn't she?" Bilbo asked, impatience lining his voice. "Now get in the barrels. We don't have time to sit here and argue about it. Someone is bound to notice you lot are out of your cells, and if they do then all of this work me and Emelia have put into getting you out will have been for nothing."

"She helped?"

"No need to sound surprised." Emelia said, having finally recovered from the shock that Dwalin had given her.

"I am surprised. Why wouldn't I be? You told them we kidnapped you." Kili took a step away from Fili, fixing her with the most hurt look she had ever seen. "I spent days thinking you had died, thinking you had been eaten by some massive spider, or worse. And after torturing myself with worrying about you, thinking about you when I should have been focusing on other things, I find out you've been living with them like we don't even matter to you. I thought you were finally beginning to be settled, after everything that happened. That maybe I," He paused, shaking his head. "We were enough to make you happy. Apparently I was wrong. Apparently you couldn't wait to be rid of us."

"I'm so sorry, Kili." Emelia said, rubbing her arm with her hand. It was tender and puffy from where Dwalin had grabbed her. "I can't say how sorry I am. To all of you."

"I don't believe you." Kili said, turning away from her completely. "Why should I?"

"We need to go." Bilbo interrupted the silence that had followed Kili's words. "Everyone, in the barrels."

No one seemed very willing to listen to Bilbo. Maybe it was her judgment they questioned. Regardless, they all looked to Thorin. Thorin, who had been eyeing the conversation between Kili and Emelia warily, turned his attention back to the barrels in question. He seemed hesitant, which Emelia understood, but finally decided that Emelia and Bilbo's logic was sound. Or sound enough to get them out of Mirkwood.

"Into the barrels, quickly. We will sort the rest out when we are free of this foul place."

Emelia imagined by the rest he meant her. She hoped that would mean getting the rest of the dwarves to stop disliking her with so much vigor, but that seemed very unlikely. They were stubborn, as she had unfortunately come to learn, and not likely to change their minds any time soon.

This is the longest chapter by far and it was a total beast to write. Anyway, thank you as always to the reviewers. I might be a little loco but I would love to get to 500 soon! Lots of domestic stuff happening next chapter, so stay tuned.

Review!