*Cue Frankenstein arms*

I'M ALIIIIIIIIIIVE! I'm sorry for the delay but there's been a LOT going on at work. -.- (I work a full time and a part time job...I know...I know...I KNOW BUT hopes and dreams are nice and all but they don't work unless I do)

I'm really trying to get these chapters done and not get hit with some writer's block so hit me with some love!

Thank you to my guest review! I'm so happy you're enjoying this story!

choirbandgeek I'm thrilled that you have made another appearance in my review log! 3

Elinor had just finished rolling one of her missives, sealing the parchment with a string to later be attached to a raven. She was sending this one to the council, a smaller one inside for her father. They needed to know about what she had learned this day. About what the lord of the Iron Hills had done….or not done, really. This put them on fragile ground with the king and she was at a loss as what to think but she had her suspicions.

I'd bet my left foot that that damned Farki had something to do with this!

The library that she was shown to was lovely with its openness and elven beauty. Simple but intricate. It was getting on into the evening hours, the sun long since set and Elinor felt the day pressing down on her. The fatigue was starting to make its presence known and she hurried with her task.

Rhosyn stood behind her chair, arms crossed and grumbling every so often. A small table and chair were pulled over to accommodate her short stature, the surface littered with quills and ink and a goblet of water.

A solitary elf stood a distance away, pitcher in her elegant hands as she awaited any call for assistance.

Elinor thumbed the rolled parchment before dropping it to bounce on the table. The other letter…

The flames from the candelabras danced as she eyed her words, steeling herself to seal it when she heard several people entering the space. Some voices low but gruff as they spoke.

"Our business is no concern to elves"

"For goodness sake", came a frustrated rebuke, "Thorin, show him the map!"

Elinor's eyes cut to Rhosyn and he straightened but remained otherwise unmoved. She knew it was rude to listen in but in all honesty, she had been here first.

"It is the legacy of my people", came a frosty reply. His deep voice sent a shiver through her that she kept from being too noticeable, "It is mine to protect. As are its secrets"

"Save me from the stubbornness of dwarves! Your pride will be your downfall. You stand here in the presence of one of the few here in middle earth who can read that map. Show it to Lord Elrond!"

Elinor blinked at that, holding herself still in her chair but for a finger that tapped lightly on the table as she thought.

They had a map they couldn't read? If Lord Elrond was the only one that could read it, why was the king so hesitant about coming to Rivendell? Maybe he was fooled into it….aye, that seemed a bit more Tharkûn's style.

There was a whisper of movement, the subtle squeak of leather before Balin's voice cut in.

"Thorin, no!"

At this Elinor quietly stood and slightly leaned out of the alcove to see Thorin holding a folded piece of parchment out to the elven lord.

Lord Elrond unfolded it and held it up before his face cut sharply back to the king.

"Erebor? What is your interest in this map?"

The king stood with a guarded expression under his heavy brows, while Balin held his breath. Elinor spied Tharkûn, his back to her, and Bilbo. He looked all together uncomfortable, and while his eyes shifted around he spotted her. He seemed almost alarmed to spy her standing there, a silent witness to their conversation but he held his tongue.

Her eyes went back to the king when he shifted, his lips parting to answer when Tharkûn spoke over him.

"It's mainly academic. As you know, this sort of artifact sometimes contains hidden texts"

Thorin's mouth closed and shot a quick look at Tharkûn that looked grateful. Lord Elrond's lips pressed together and he looked wholly unconvinced before turning away, wandering in her direction as he perused the map.

"You still read ancient dwarvish, do you not?"

Lord Elrond held the map aloft, turning it gently this way and that before his eyes honed in on something. He muttered something and Tharkûn started.

"Moon runes", he breathed out, surprise coloring his words, "Of course".

Bilbo's eyes shifted about once more, intrigued but confused and Tharkûn tilted his head towards him.

"An easy thing to miss".

"In this case, this is true. Moon runes can only be read by the light of a moon as the same shape and season as the day on which they were written".

Thorin took a shaky breath, eyes as earnest as his temperament would allow, "Can you read them?"

Lord Elrond dipped his head and led them back out of the room, to where she knew not. Elinor turned back to the small table, her thoughts swirling.

So they had a map they couldn't read and didn't want people….well, the elves...to know what they were doing. Maybe this is why they hadn't heard of this before….but Dain denied his king aid, at Farki's insistence she was sure. It seems maybe...Farki wants Thorin to fail? To what?

Taking all of the supplies they had sent….the weapons and armors…..maybe he wants Thorin to fail or is waiting for Dáin to overthrow him? He'd certainly have an adequately stocked armory to do so if they'd never sent along the items from Hammerdeep…

Elinor's temper flared at the audacity! The Longbeards were the direct descendants of Durin the Deathless. The rightful rulers of Erebor! Hammerdeep might have a sovereignty as a united community of different races but the betrayal of such an act would not stand! They were honorable people! For long, Elinor had suspected the Iron Hills of questionable intentions but never to this extent!

Salma's words drifted into her thoughts then.

They will be facing more than one foe.

She gripped the hilt of her dagger so hard that her arm started to throb and she took a deep steadying breath. Elinor called to the ellith that stood attentively near them and gestured to Rhosyn.

"Mellon, I know the hour grows late but can you please escort my friend here to the kitchens for a bit of a light snack?"

The ellith bowed and lifted an arm toward the door.

"Come, elvellon".

Rhosyn eyed her and Elinor could tell he didn't want to leave her but couldn't deny her right now. He sighed and nodded before following the elf away.

She watched his departure before turning back to the remaining letter.

Dain's letter.

Rhosyn didn't know what she wrote but he was smart enough to know it was gonna be trouble. She could feel him stewing behind her earlier and she scribbled away.

She stood over it now, gazing at the gauntlet that was going to be thrown down. She bent to grasp the quill and applied her signature before unsheathing her dagger and taking the wax once more.

Elinor pulled her hair forward over her left shoulder, taking a lock as long as her first finger and cutting it loose. She held it pinched tightly together near her signature before pouring the light blue wax over the middle of the strands. Once again, before it cooled completely she pressed her ring firmly into the wax. Once it had set, she rolled the parchment up and tied it with another string that was provided for her from their gracious host.

Schooling her face so as not to betray her inner irritation, Elinor left the library, little scrolls in hand and tucking both within her belt as she went in search of a rookery.

The company of Thorin Oakenshield was a lively bunch. This much was known. They were amusingly loud and boisterous at times and at the moment….Thorin was certain they had never grated on his nerves more.

His arms were crossed over his chest as he tried to keep himself from exploding with frustration.

A fortnight! Mahal's beard, they would have to wait a fortnight for that elf lord to read their damned map!

The thought that he'd have to dwell amongst the elves for any length of time was absurd! He stared out into the forests as he contemplated this development, trying in vain to keep his thoughts focused.

—

Rhosyn met her back in the hallway as she slowly made her way back to their rooms confirming he had an elf in the scullery gathering some dried meats and breads. He quickly took stock of her quiet anger and exhausted visage, choosing to silently trail after her. He watched her stiff gait and quietly informed her that plates of food had been sent to the dwarven company's chambers.

Fed dwarves were happy dwarves….and also less likely to ruin your home.

Elinor was passing a doorway, the nights pale moonlight casting an ethereal glow about Rivendell that drew her towards the door. The soothing sounds of the cascading waterfalls were calming. As she passed through the doors she could hear deep masculine voices laughing somewhere nearby, the dwarves cheering about food that had been brought to their rooms.

Real food she heard one of the young ones cheer. Upon stepping out onto the terrace, she saw a mop of curly golden brown hair further down a set of stairs.

Bilbo.

Staring about with as much wonder as she sure she and her companion was when two other voices approached, seemingly debating.

"I think that you can trust I know what I'm doing", one voice argued.

"Do you? That dragon has slept all these years. What would happen if your plan should fail? If you awaken the beast?"

Inwardly sighing, Elinor glanced at Rhosyn to find him already giving her a sideways glance. To be an audience to a second instance of eavesdropping, how unfortunate. Bilbo seems to be as mortified but held still.

"If the dwarves take back the mountain, our defenses in the east will be strengthened", Tharkûn reasoned.

"It is a dangerous move, Gandalf".

"It is also dangerous to do nothing! Oh come, the throne of Erebor is Thorin's birthright. What is it you fear?"

Elinor stood silently as she watched Thorin silently walk up behind Bilbo, clearly having heard the conversation over the company. The hobbit noticed his companions arrival as well as spotting her from the corner of his eye.

"Have you forgotten? A strain of madness runs deep within that family. His grandfather lost his mind! His father succumbed to the same sickness".

Bilbo nervously looked back to Thorin upon hearing this but Thorin was no longer listening.

He turned away and Elinor saw a saddened visage, brows bent as a forlorn and hurt expression tried to overtake his expression. She was sure that he turned away so as the hobbit wouldn't see a moment of anything other than the fierceness the king under the mountain always exuded.

It was….heartbreaking. To hear someone speaking, however unintentional, about if he should succeed in his quest….he would also fail in his success.

"Can you swear Thorin Oakenshield will not also fall?"

Bilbo kept his head turned away respectfully, a slight sniffling was heard from the halfling and Elinor sympathized. Thorin looked hurt as he was lost in thought, lost in the sea of his mind.

Had he not known? Was this how he found out? Overheard conversations spoken in a strangers halls?

"Gandalf, these decisions do not rest with us alone! It is not up to you, or me, to redraw the map of middle earth".

Their voices faded as they walked further away but the silence left behind in their wake was deafening. Bilbo's eyes met hers for the briefest of moments before he left Thorin alone.

The king remained still for a short while before his fists clenched and a growl could be heard rumbling from deep within his chest. He started to pace around the terrace, deep breaths being drawn in as he stomped about. His dark hair swinging as his frustrations were bubbling to the surface.

This was a private moment and Elinor was ashamed at seeing this display. The king's rest would be uneasy this night and she felt saddened for him. She turned her head and could see Rhosyn was of a similar mind, turning to leave already. Perhaps some ale would ease his woes this night.

Thorin must have heard something...Rhosyn's heavy feet no doubt...for in a flash his eyes flew up, meeting hers directly. Elinor tried to not let her sympathy show but she was exhausted and the king was by no means ignorant. He realized almost instantly that she must have overheard the conversation and he went rigid, his emotions shuttered away immediately.

Thorin turned his back to her, strong hands gripping the railing as he growled out, "Leave me".

Elinor took a long quiet breath, trying to calm him somewhat, "Pay no mind to their words, your majes-".

His hands fisted and his face turned to her, brows pulled low into a fierce scowl, "Are you deaf as well as disfigured? I said leave me, wench!"

Elinor's brows bent at that, her lips pressing together but she could see his features instantly soften in regret at his outburst. She quietly let out a measured breath before bowing and leaving him. She was in the hallway when she heard a frustrated groan followed by a muted thumping noise but kept her feet moving towards her room. She had not been around these southern dwarves long but Elinor could already tell they were going to be difficult and her patience for them this day was done.

Elinor shook her head and sighed, ready for her bed.

Thorin had descended back down the stairs to their quarters with a throbbing fist and was intrigued to see that the elves had brought food to their rooms. Conies and fowl were being gratefully devoured but the dwarves as they laughed and carried on. They were near to destroying furniture for a fire when the food had arrived unexpectedly. Thorin had a lingering suspicion that the hushed conversation he had witnessed earlier between the red haired dam and that elf was what prompted this surprise gesture. He leant back against the stone bannister, taking long pulls from a pipe he'd gotten out of his pack as guilt gnawed at him.

"Are you deaf as well as disfigured? I said leave me, wench!"

Thorin heaved a heavy sigh, the image of her face shuttering repeated in his mind's eye. As soon as the words fell from his lips, he felt the familiar arms of shame enveloping him like an old friend. He was ashamed that she had heard Tharkûn and the elf lord's worrisome words. Thorin himself had surmised that his grandfather had an unhealthy fascination with Erebor's treasures but to hear that suspicion spread about like common gossip was infuriating. Coupled with the knowledge that they would have to linger here for almost a fortnight to read the map had him furious!

And yet…..he shouldn't have snapped at her with such hurtful words.

"What's got that sour look on your face?"

Thorin's scowl grew darker before he muttered, "'Tis nothing".

Dwalin scoffed and rolled his eyes as he offered a plate of food, "If you say so, then".

Thorin continued to scowl but accepted the plate from his friend. It was definitely better fare than offered at their meal earlier. Smoked meats and cheeses with thick breads were brought as well apparently.

The company was in high spirits, laughter and pipe smoke filling the air. Their burglar seemed as awkward as ever amongst their group, Thorin still unsure of him and chewed the stem of his pipe as he thought.

A short time later there was a soft rapping on the door. The older dwarf from earlier was let in by Bofur, his hat bobbing as he greeted him. From what he could observe, the outsider was a warrior. Even in his elder years, he held himself with that assuredness that every seasoned warrior had. Much like his companions. The human man was tall, even for his kind, with a scowl that seemed to be etched into his face even when he was at ease. The ashen haired dam seemed young, her face full with youth but her body had the leanness that came from hard labor. The golden haired wild warrior woman looked confident in her abilities as did their archer.

The older dwarrow called her his mistress even though she was of low birth.

Mixed birth.

He had that same curious feeling from earlier, that pang in his chest and a nagging in his head. He felt inexplicably drawn to her, a need to please her and be near her swelling to the front of his mind. She was different from the dams he was used to, so confident in not only herself but her abilities. Thorin was still silently amazed at her efficiency with a bow. Orcs dropped like flies to her deadly precision and he was silently grateful that the other company had shown up when they did.

Many of the dams he had experience with were mostly highborn females that put on airs when the dwarves resided under the mountain. Even now, with the populace decreased for the attack and poverty rampant the noblewomen were not keen to the changes. Dwarven women were treasured and many a dwarrow had given all they had to possess a dam.

Many had lost their Ones in the attack and some had shortly after perished from sorrow. Others sought companionship where they could find it.

So much death and misery that day...and many years after. Thorin's own hands had carried innumerable bodies that day.

Men. Women…children.

While dams were treasured, children were even more so. Dwarven children were blessings from Mahal to be cherished and protected at all costs. He laid many a suffering and weeping child to rest that day, could even still feel the clutch of tiny hands upon him before they had passed or he had handed them off for help.

Thorin's thoughts again drifted back to the fiery dam, that nagging feeling tickling the back of his brain again. She was well educated, her posture straight and assured. She was unashamed of her scars and with that the burns did not take away from her appearance but actually enhanced it with a fierceness that intrigued him.

This Elinor was rather intimidating and he found that strangely appealing which in turn unsettled him.

The older dwarrow was warmly welcomed amongst his company and many hands helped relieve him of his burden. Several tankards were filled and passed about as he joined in a few of their songs, fitting in like a glove to a hand.

Dwalin sat next to him, his burly arms crossed over his chest and lips pulled down into a frown.

Thorin was sure they made quite the pair, silent grumpy figures alone in a corner while others had their fun.

He observed the newcomer settle into their ranks with ease, lifting a tankard and joined in on spinning stories. Balin and the others asking about their journey from the north, young Ori leaning forward more so than the others. The scribe's quill scratched quickly against the parchment of the book in his lap as he took notes of the older dwarrow's tales.

"Was it an arduous journey, Rhosyn? Surely you should have brought a larger escort?", Balin inquired.

Rhosyn's lips pursed under his beard, "Aye, we set out with a few more brethren but alas we had a number of unfavorable events".

"Explain", Dwalin piped up with a scowl.

"A younger tribesman was drug off in the night. We believe by a wolf or some other beast. Another one with a horse was attacked by a small frost drake as we raced across the wastes".

"A drake", Fili breathed in amazement.

"A dragon!", Bofur exclaimed with wide eyes.

"Bullocks!", Dwalin gruffed, "Dragons are scarce enough round here".

"That may prove true enough but the drakes of the north thrive as well as it's people. We've enough protection at the keep that they don't bother us but in the winter months. The nomadic tribes are a bit more exposed but they're a capable lot as well".

Ori stared in wonder at the proud elder dwarrow, pulling another small journal and a quill out of his satchel, "Can you tell me about your keep? Your home?"

Rhosyn grinned and reached into his pocket and pulled out a small book, the cover was worn and bare in spaces. He opened it and showed them the rough parchment pages, ink and charcoal sketches of people and dwellings were scrawled on the paper. Several unfamiliar pressed flowers were held on the page with wax stamps or tied ribbon. A fairly detailed scene covered two whole pages, a hall full of figures celebrating. Rough sketches of men, dwarves, and elves sitting together at long tables as they broke bread. It was a bizarre sight for sure.

What really held their interest was the very detailed depiction of a mountainside. Into the face of the mountain were tiered battlements and short stone bridges, a waterfall ran along the side of the icy fortress. Several venting systems were spotted as well as what appeared to be glass topped buildings. Along the base were several huts that had straw roofs with some homes hulled out of the stone. A great stone wall surrounded the perimeter with thick wide gates.

It was an impressive stronghold.

Rhosyn answered several questions from the curious dwarves before Balin asked the one that pressed on them the most.

"Why have not been informed of this dwarven settlement?"

Rhosyn took a deep breath, "As my mistress said earlier, we're not just dwarrow. We number men, dwarves, and elves".

"And that's just...allowed without a fight?"

"Well discrimination is not tolerated. Any such will be punished and anything further will lead to banishment or you chasing your guts around a tree in the snow"

Several faces contorted in horror at that but remained silent.

"And it doesn't bother ye?"

"Nay", Rhosyn waved at them, "'Twas difficult at first but we were all... lost in one way or another. Building our home I think forced us to cast aside our differences and live together".

Gloin cleared his throat, "Well I'm glad your journey wasn't too harsh. Drakes, nasty business them".

Rhosyn chuckled at that and shrugged away the worry, "Ach! It's nothing when we've Drakesbane in our group!"

Kili blinked at that, "Drakesbane?"

"My mistress is worthy of the title! Fierce one, that lass! Took down that dreadful beast that struck down our kinsmen on our trek", Rhoysn went on, pulling a tooth from his pocket. It was as big as his palm and longer than his hand from wrist to the tips of his fingers.

Intrigue rippled through the company at this, many eyes rounding and whispering amongst themselves as they inspected the tooth.

"She killed it?"

"Elinor's killed many a drake".

Rhosyn noticed the hushed silence that fell and the glances the other dwarves cast at each other. Many silent conversations took place in those looks as the lull drew on.

Balin broke the silence as he lamented to himself, a wistful tone coloring his words, "I still can't believe it's her. She's a lady now".

At that, Rhosyn snorted, "Wouldn't run that line around her. She's more than a lady. She's a well respected warrior in our community, wise and smart. Elinor helps keep the caravans protected when they move across the wastes. We trade and sell many things as well as send carts to the Iron Hills that were supposed to be sent to Ered Luin".

"Your lady seemed quite put out at the knowledge we've never heard of this before", Dwalin interjected lowly.

"Aye", Rhosyn straightened up, "I've just finished standing with her in the library as she penned letters. Namely one to Dáin and his advisor. I'm admittedly nervous about that one. She seemed... riled as she wrote it''.

Thorin arched a heavy brow at that, "You didn't think to ask your woman what she was doing?"

Rhosyn went still at that and replied in a terse tone and a severely arched brow, "My inquisitiveness ends where folly begins. And she's no one's woman. If you're later in need of any of our warriors, I suggest you keep in mind that a good portion of them are women as well. As I said earlier, our daughters are in no way inferior to our sons. Those lassies jumped in to help you lot with the orcs earlier. They didn't care that you thought them incapable or lesser just for bein' women. They just did what needed to be done".

Thorin observed as many of the dwarrow seemed to get lost in thought before he nodded his ascent to the other dwarf. He might not agree with him but he'll respect his views.

"Who is she sending these letters to?"

"One to our elders for sure. The other to Dáin. Probably a good rip it in for him too, knowing Elinor. Got a wee temper, that one".

Thorin involuntarily gave a dry chuckle at that, the image of her conjured once more in his mind and made him flush slightly. The others laughed along with him and he noticed more than a few pink cheeks.

"Some sires stamp their gets", Balin added fondly, "How is old Iron-Axe?"

At that, Rhosyn's smile dimmed and he scratched at his beard, "As much as I'd like that fat bawbag to not die on me I know he's not long for it".

"I thought you said he was grieving the loss o' his One?"

Rhosyn chuckled at that, "He's grieved, nae starved. He wanted to make this journey himself but his lass stood to volunteer in front of the council. To deny such an act would be shameful".

"She volunteered?", Thorin questioned, intrigued and so turned to face Rhosyn better.

"Aye, swore to defend the line of Durin until the king under the mountain is restored. Reinforcements and supplies should already be crossing the wastes as we speak".

Balin and Dwalin shared a quick glance with Thorin, the younger dwarves and Bilbo all leaning forward in their seats.

"How many?", Thorin questioned curiously.

"The ealdormen pledged half of our forces so around...thirty five hundred I'll guess".

Thorin's lips parted in shock and that's as far as he would let his composure drop. Others' jaws were hanging, Dwalin and Balin among them. Fili, Kili, and Bilbo outright gaped, googley eyes and all.

"Aye...thought you'd all like that. Especially after Ironfoot's declination", Rhosyn sighed tiredly and clicked his teeth as he stood up and brushed his pants, "She wadna happy 'bout that. At all".

Everyone still sat motionless as if in a stupor. That was a sizable support pledge that would make a world of difference.

"This is a battalion composed of dwarves, elves, and men? That number seems surprisingly high…"

Rhosyn snickered, "Well, in the north you gotta keep moving to keep warm and you can't work all the time. So there's...other activities".

At the implication, Thorin felt a fresh flush of color in his cheeks. He wasn't the only one. Their poor burglar looked like he was fit to expire. His nephews wore twin blushes but looked just as intrigued as some of the others and questions started flying.

Rhosyn made to leave as he laughed, waving off the rapid fire questioning of Thorin's company.

"The hour grows late and I hear a soft bed calling me", he chuckled as he slid out the door.

Everyone resumed their raucous conversations, laughter laced in between mouthfuls of food as they joked and teased each other. Even the normally reserved hobbit looked on with an amused expression.

Thorin remained separate, leaned against the open air window as he puffed on his pipe. The smoke swirled in the air as thoughts swirled within his mind, intertwined with soft fiery hair and flecks of shimmery green.

Thoughts? Constructive criticisms?

Any thoughts or comments are much appreciated!