16.

Mirkwood was no safer and no less ominous even when traveling under the escort of two dozen Elven archers. On the contrary, Fili was filled with trepidation as the hours passed by and they trudged on under the heavy canopy, flanked by silent shadows on both sides. Thranduil's soldiers did not address the company, nor were the Dwarves bothered in the slightest way, but watchful eyes tracked their every movement and they did not have to be bound to know that their freedom was limited.

At the very least, prince Legolas had made good his promise to share the provisions his archers carried, although Fili believed that nothing save a three day feast would ever make his stomach feel full again. Little and bland though it was, the Elvish food put the company on their feet and even the weakest among them began to regain their strength. But for the sleeping Amrod and Kili, the Elves said there was nothing to be done, save to let them rest and wait for the enchantment to pass. It could be days before that happened and an unfortunate archer in Thranduil's service had slumbered for a whole week after drinking from such enchanted waters, or so Legolas himself had said. Other than acute disorientation and troubled dreams, the sleepers would be none the worse for wear… but of course, that depended on where they woke and what happened to their companions in the mean time.

While some of the archers built rudimentary biers for Amrod and Kili, Legolas and Thorin argued about what course to take next, with Celegorm and Fili attempting to keep trouble from escalating. The Elf had carried out his secret conversation with the Mirkwood prince and appeared pleased as they returned to the others. Celegorm would say nothing, but he offered Fili a reassuring smile. The young Dwarf did not know what to make of it, especially not when he saw that Amras did not seem at all reassured by whatever had come to pass between his older brother and the Mirkwood prince.

For his part, Thorin had no desire to follow Legolas and his archers to Thranduil's halls. To put it mildly, or so Fili thought with an inward smirk. It was very difficult for his uncle to accept their situation, especially when the Elves veiled their threatening posture so well and even the prince never outwardly said that he was taking them all prisoners. Legolas replied calmly and offered his suggestions in a polite manner, but beneath the posturing, it was obvious that he would not let the company go anywhere else but north, with him. He had been given certain instructions by his king and those he needed to obey without fault. But if he could make the manner of execution more bearable, Legolas would do so. He did not wish to cause the Dwarves further discomfort and to wound their pride even more by binding their hands and dragging them along forcefully. It depended on Thorin whether he would make things more difficult for himself or not.

The Dwarf King would have probably chosen the difficult path and he said as much too. Thorin would sooner be treated like a prisoner and warned Legolas that taking him to interrogation before his father would avail Thranduil not at all. The Dwarves had business of their own and none of it concerned the haughty Elven King. His son - less haughty but under strict orders – said that it was not his duty to decide and he would simply be escorting the company to his father's halls. From then on, the Elven King would decide what to do with his unwilling visitors.

It seemed to Fili that Legolas had far more interest in the news Celegorm had promised to share. Ancient enemies or not, the Mirkwood Elves would probably be very interested in hearing about the threat in Dol Guldur and what the wizards had taken Celegorm's kinsmen there for. Secretly, Fili hoped that such news would cast a favorable light on their plight and Thranduil would be too distracted by evil tidings of Dark Lords on his doorstep to concern himself much with the travels of Dwarves. If Thorin managed to stay calm and keep his hatred for the Elven King from erupting, perhaps the company could leave Thranduil's halls and get out of the accursed forest without a great deal of disturbance. Of course, it was a fool's hope more than anything else, but as he drew Celegorm aside for a few moments, Fili learned that the Elf thought more or less in the same manner and hoped that with some diplomacy, their situation could be bettered, in spite of the old enmity festering between all their peoples.

Unwilling guests, if not outward prisoners, the Dwarves had to endure two more days of marching through the dreary forest and Fili wondered how the Elves could survive in such a place. Elves were supposed to be creatures of light and fresh winds and freedom, not shadows skulking under ancient, oppressive trees! But, as they drew nearer to Thranduil's halls, the forest grew less evil and the air less stifling.

Although darkness had encroached upon Thranduil's territory and narrowed the extent of his dominion significantly (or so his son sadly admitted), a great stretch of Mirkwood still bore the signs of Elves inhabiting it and tending to the forest. Within hours of Thranduil's halls, the undergrowth gave way to healthy trees and clearly marked paths and little clearings where the grass was dotted with late summer flowers still in bloom. In one such clearing, while the evening sun still peeked over the western rim of the trees, the company laid themselves down and simply enjoyed the warmth they had almost forgotten. Thranduil's archers helped them set Kili and Amrod down in the sunniest spot and Fili thought he saw some of the silent Elves smiling at the sheer joy that fresh air brought to the company.

Legolas said that they would camp early and spend the night in that place, taking into consideration the weariness of his charges (as the Elf referred to his prisoners and Fili noticed Thorin's brows knit together in a very dark scowl at that). Nobody challenged the decision and from a cleverly hidden bower, the Elves brought forth more supplies. To Thorin's worry (and the delight of well nigh everyone else) Legolas offered them wine with the food. It was improper to refuse, but no doubt, Thorin worried that the drink would loosen tongues if they did not have a care to what they said and how much they drank.

Fortunately for his uncle, the Elves did not offer too much wine and none of his companions was in a chatty mood. Most of them were either injured and weary or weary and looking after an injured sibling. Before dusk deepened into a starlit sky that they were all beyond happy to see again, most of the Dwarves had nodded off and both Celegorm's brothers slept as well.

Flanking Kili and still very much disturbed by his motionless sleep, Fili and Thorin kept vigil a little while longer, although exhaustion and concern weighed heavily on their shoulders. Not far from them, Dwalin struggled to remain awake and alert as he sat propped against a thick tree stump. But the warrior fought a losing battle with his weariness and his surveillance served him little, as more archers had joined Legolas and his company and they fenced the clearing just behind the line of trees in a permanently watchful guard.

Legolas himself sat aside with Celegorm and they carried out what seemed to Fili like an interminable conversation. If the prince was polite but wary when dealing with the rest of them, he appeared to have warmed up to Celegorm in an undeniable manner. As the blond told him things in a hushed voice and most likely in the High Tongue that the archers did not speak, Legolas followed Celegorm with fascination and eagerness to learn more. Fili was somewhat amused, watching his friend as he exerted his charm upon the prince, but the young Dwarf was also intrigued and more than a little worried.

As night fell and the soft murmur of Elvish voices carried on, Fili could not help expressing his concern, especially when he knew that Thorin's suspicions kept him awake as well.

"What do you suppose they keep talking about?" Fili whispered in Khuzdul, eying Celegorm and Legolas briefly.

Thorin's eyes widened and he opened his mouth, most likely to ask Fili if he had lost his mind to use the Dwarvish tongue among Elves. But his uncle sighed and shifted as close as Kili's body lying between them allowed it.

"I wish I knew. Whatever it is, I think it concerns us all and I asked that bastard to not negotiate without my knowing. But he's speaking to Thranduil's brat in such fashion that the other Elves can't pick out anything either," Thorin replied in a harsh whisper.

"That is some damned long negotiation... I can't help but wonder what Tyelkormo believes he can offer them in exchange for keeping us fed and how he purposes to win our freedom."

"If you ask me, I think your friend is trying to look after his own hide this time around," Thorin said with a dry little smile.

"What do you mean?"

"Did you not hear him say that the Mirkwood Elves are his enemies? The Sindar and Silvan Elves, to be more precise. Remember how our Elves wanted nothing to do with their people in the Golden Wood?"

Fili's eyebrows drew together and he gave his uncle a surprised look. Unless he had fallen asleep and was dreaming up the entire conversation, Thorin looked about ready to give him a lecture on Elves of all things. And his uncle's cryptic expression had Fili wondering just how much Thorin had concerned himself with Elves under the pretense of hating them all with a passion.

"I remember," the young Dwarf nodded. "But it's hard to believe that Elves are actual enemies. Rivals, perhaps, but genuine foes? I can't imagine it."

"You may see it with your own eyes soon enough. Tyelkormo and Ambarussa would not be so concerned by Thranduil's enmity unless it is a very real and very dangerous thing. And I believe I know the cause of it, too."

Fili bit the inside of his lip against observing how uncanny it was for Thorin to know such things, much less speak of them. But he nodded, eager to hear his uncle's theory.

"There is only one thing that could make bitter enemies out of Elves. And that is murder. Or rather, what they call kinslaying. I believe they hold no sin greater than for an Elf to take another Elf's life, even if they are reborn after a while. And if you recall, in Rivendell, our Elves admitted that they are kinslayers."

Fili barely held back a smile as he caught his uncle saying 'our Elves' more than once. It was amusing and surprising but it cast little light on their predicament with Thranduil's people.

"It's different for them than it is for us, Fili. We've fought our kind when some of them served the Enemy and we fought them for lesser reasons too. But for Elves, it's unforgivable to raise weapons against each other."

"But… it was an act of war, what Tyelkormo and his kinsmen did, wasn't it? They didn't even know exactly why they were fighting when they killed those other Elves for their ships," Fili lowered his voice further as he said such things.

"I don't know… I'm not so sure about that anymore. But listen… You are far more of a scholar than I have ever been and surely you remember your lessons in lore. You must know that beyond my personal feud with Thranduil, there is an ancient and far greater hatred between Elves and Dwarves. It goes all the way back to the First Age and although we have been allies in times of war and trade partners in times of peace, the Elves have not forgotten that grudge and neither have we."

"You speak of Doriath and the death of Thingol at the hands of our ancestors?" Fili frowned.

"Exactly. I see you remember your lessons," Thorin gave Fili a small smile. "Then it will make more sense to you why Thranduil treats our people so coldly even now. He was there when Doriath fell and his king was killed, although at the time, Thranduil was merely a boy by their standards. But Oropher, his father, served the King of Doriath. Elves, I have learned, have a very long memory and are even better than us Dwarves at holding grudges. Whether it is just or not, I cannot say. But our people claim that they were mistreated and repaid with insult for the work they did for the Elven King. Most of this I did not know until it was too late to for it to serve me in any way. I should have probably listened to all the times your great-grandfather told me that knowledge is power. Well, I have a lot of knowledge now and no power, it seems."

"For the time being," Fili smiled bravely. "But isn't it foolish and pointless of Thranduil to hate us now, when we obviously have nothing to do with what happened thousands of years ago?"

"Logic would say so, but Thranduil is not a very logic person. This I have learned from his peers, both in the Grey Havens and in Rivendell. You smile, nephew, and you wonder when I became such a lore master in Elvish matters. But do not forget that when we rebuilt our lives from scratch in the Blue Mountains, our prosperity depended first and foremost on trade with the Elves from the harbors. I had to curb my anger and deal with them and that's where I learned about the great differences between their peoples. Where do you think all the books that you've read came from?"

"I might have known…," Fili smirked to himself. "But what does that have to do with this situation? You tell me that Thranduil hates us for simply existing, let alone having done him harm or not. How does knowing that help?"

"It may yet. I do not know. And I wish that was all there is to it."

"There is more?!"

"I'm afraid so. You see, your friend over there," Thorin's eyes shifted to Celegorm for a moment. "He's done even greater harm to Thranduil and his people. Or so I believe."

"I don't understand. Weren't they all allies back in the First Age? All I know is that the Noldor fenced Beleriand against the Enemy for hundreds of years. They guarded Thingol's kingdom and everyone else. How is that a great harm?"

"It wouldn't be if that was all they've done. Even though it did not concern our people anymore, the kingdom of Doriath was re-established after Thingol's death and attacked once more. It was sacked a final time, by Elves."

"Fëanor's sons. Yes. I remember reading about that. Do you believe that… our Elves had something to do with that?" Fili's eyes widened.

"I'm sure of it. Why else would they be so unwilling to appear before Thranduil? They were probably there when the attack took place. Thranduil will probably remember them since he survived the ruin of that kingdom and he was among the refugees who left it," Thorin nodded slowly as he saw comprehension dawning in Fili's eyes.

"But that means... we've been lied to? Doriath was attacked for a Silmaril by the sons of Fëanor and their people. Only their people and none of the other Noldor."

"Exactly. That means our lovely friends are killers of their people not once, not twice but a grand total of three times, before their own demise."

"And they have been lying to us all this time," Fili clapped a hand over his mouth, shocked and unwilling to believe such a thing.

"Yes. They have constructed quite a lie for our benefit," Thorin agreed, but, to his nephew's astonishment, he did not seem as enraged by the idea as he should have been.

"Who the hell are they?" Fili hissed.

"Fëanorian followers, I suppose… The Elven villains of the First Age. Although I suspect they may actually be none other than Fëanor and his sons."

"WHAT?!"

"Shhhh! Calm yourself! And be quiet!" Thorin motioned a shell-shocked Fili to sit still.

"What in Mahal's name are you saying?!"

"It is only a guess at this point, but it would make sense, wouldn't it?" Thorin said, eerily calm and composed and Fili thought that he was most certainly dreaming up the entire conversation.

"Can't be… I mean… by that line of reasoning, he would be…," Fili blinked at Celegorm's back and couldn't quite bring himself to say it.

"Celegorm the Cruel?" Thorin offered, a small, sympathetic smile on his face.

"No. Absolutely not. Not the one with Luthien and the hound and the temper and wanting to kill everyone and… oh, no!" Fili sank on the grass at his sleeping brother's side and covered his face in both hands. "Can't be!" he kept muttering.

"Fili, for Mahal's sake, hold yourself together!" Thorin reached out and smacked Fili's shoulder. "Quit making such a spectacle of yourself or you will draw their attention."

"But… dammnit, uncle! Let them come here! In fact, I'm going to get the truth out of that lying bastard right now!" Fili meant to sit up and stomp all the way to Celegorm and beat the truth out of him.

"Sit down and don't you dare make a single move!" Thorin hissed, glowering darkly and effectively pinning Fili down.

"But I have to know!" Fili deflated and sighed deeply. "What is this madness?!"

"I'm not sure either. But it's madness that we have to keep to ourselves for now. It's neither the time nor the place to confront anyone and kick up a scandal about this."

"I don't understand… how are you so calm? How can you know all this and not be mad or murderous?!" Fili shook his head in disbelief.

"I don't know, Fili… I only have suspicions. And I meant to say nothing, but we are about to be trapped by that vile Thranduil and our Elves won't be able to help us at all this time. We may have to get them out of trouble. So I thought you ought to be warned about some things."

"Help them?! You still call them our Elves?! Even suspecting… everything we've just discussed?" Fili gaped at his unperturbed uncle.

"Yes, I do."

"I don't believe this! How long have you had these suspicions?"

"From the very beginning, Fili. You see, if Curufinwë really is none other than the legendary Fëanor himself… he underestimated us. He must have thought that if they give us their names in an ancient tongue we've never heard of and if they spin the truth with a little lie here and a little lie there, the foolish Dwarves won't know the difference. But I am neither foolish nor ignorant and I always knew there was more to it than what they told us. In fact, there have been times when all of them gave us clues as to who they really are. They've all but invited us to guess and I don't know why they do it, but I intend to find out," Thorin said.

"He's right there!" Fili pointed to Celegorm, still deep in conversation with the Mirkwood prince. "He's probably lying his head off right now. Come on, let us both confront him."

"No," Thorin shook his head. "Tyelkormo won't tell you anything, even if he wants to. Whatever they've decided on the matter, only their father can tell him and his brothers otherwise. And I want to hear the truth from Curufinwë. I thought he would come clean and explain himself. More than once, he seemed close to doing so, but something kept him from it."

"Why?! Why are they doing this, uncle? Why all the lies?" Fili fetched a deep sigh, his head spinning with confusion and more than a little bit of anger.

"I do not know. Perhaps it is guilt and shame for what they used to be. Perhaps they did not want us to judge them for their past deeds. It could be that all they want is to leave their past behind and be other people now that they have been given a second chance. Or maybe, they thought to minimize their own importance for fear that if we know the truth, we would be daunted. I mean… can you imagine walking and eating and sleeping and fighting side by side with such legendary figures? I can't really grasp it myself and I keep thinking it is a ridiculous supposition, but now… after meeting these Mirkwood Elves, I am almost convinced that my guess is correct."

Fili gawked at the way his uncle stared into the distance and his expression was one of fascination, not indignation and rage, as it should have been! For his part, Fili was disbelieving and revolted and wanted nothing more than to shout at Celegorm until his voice gave out. It didn't matter why they were doing it, lying was still lying and people did not build friendships based on false pretense and half-truths. Unless the friendships themselves were all lies and Fili ground his teeth in anger. He had not been cheated into caring so much about a scheming, evil Elf!

"Fili! Calm yourself!" Thorin hissed in warning and the young Dwarf guessed that his face had become a mirror for his warring emotions.

"I can't just sit here and pretend I don't know anything," he shot back.

"You can and you will and remember, you don't know anything until we find out the whole truth. I can understand your anger, I have felt the same myself, but we don't have the luxury to harbor such feelings now. We must survive all the traps this damned forest has set for us first. When we are free and I see Curufinwë again, I will confront him," Thorin said.

"And then what?"

"Then… it all depends on the explanation. I am sure that the Elves have their reasons for obscuring the truth about themselves and to them, those reasons are good. In the mean time, try to remember everything they have done for us and don't hate them too much. They've gotten mauled and poisoned and cut and who knows what else for our sake. In the end, it might not even matter who they were as much as who they are now and what that means to us. Alright?"

Such a speech and delivered in such a manner by a person Fili had known all his life was beyond disconcerting. Thorin was not himself… it must have been some after-effect of the poisoning or some enchantment at work. The patient, reasonable and seemingly forgiving person before him couldn't possibly be Thorin Oakenshield, the proud and harsh Dwarf Lord Fili knew and loved. Something had happened to him between the Shire and Mirkwood, something that Fili couldn't even fathom.

As these thoughts raced through his head, Fili saw Celegorm rising from his spot by the Mirkwood prince and biding him a good night. Weariness and worry were plainly written on the Elf's face as he strode up to the two Dwarves. Fili averted his eyes, knowing that he could not conceal any of his emotions and it took all his self-control not to shrink away when Celegorm crouched at his side. Torn between screaming, punching the Elf and slapping his hand away from Kili's forehead, Fili bit into the knuckles of his left hand and let some of his blond mane fall into his face, to obscure it.

"How goes it with the prince?" Thorin whispered to the Elf.

"As well as it can go when trying to convince someone to betray their father. I wouldn't even think of doing that to mine, but who knows… I just wish I had more time with Legolas," Celegorm sighed. "We'll see. I should have some rest now. I have a feeling that tomorrow, I will be sorely tested."

Neither Dwarf said anything, because Fili was busy biting his lip bloody against a plethora of things and Thorin seemed to understand whatever the hell Celegorm was talking about. They both watched the Elf walk to his brothers and after inspecting Amrod, the blond laid himself down at his brother's side and threw an arm over him protectively.

For a few torturous moments, Fili sat up and peered into the deepening darkness at the three Elven brothers he had spent the better part of four months with and he had come to think of as friends. Maybe they were his friends, but as the young Dwarf tried to wrap his mind around who they could actually be, this head swam and felt like it had suddenly been stuffed with wool.

Thorin offered him a small smile and motioned him to lie down. Fili threw himself on the grass as though the strings holding him up had been severed and huddled up to Kili, unconsciously wrapping himself around his sleeping brother much like Celegorm had done with his.

A/N: I hope that this is neither too far-fetcher nor too out of character for Thorin Oakenshield. But after strenuous negotiations with my Dwarf and Noldo muses, I have been conned into saving Fëanor the trouble of an explosive, angry reveal scene. Rather, Thorin will punish him with gentleness and understanding (and, of course, he guesses nothing about the Silmaril/Arkenstone). It might not be Thorin's habitual manner of handling things, but it will be far more effective than righteous anger against an Elf that is all pride and fight and stubbornness himself.