- Chapter 33 -
"Since when has my council counted for so little?" demanded Gandalf as he puffed on his long pipe angrily. "Just what do you think I am trying to do here?"
"I think you are trying to save your dwarvish friends," Thranduil said, looking up at the wizard with faint interest. "And I admire your loyalty to them, but it does not dissuade me from my cause. You started this Mithrandir, you'll forgive me if I finish it." With one swift movement the King rose from his seat and turned to the open tent flap. "Are the archers in position?"
"Yes my Lord," said the captain, snapping to attention.
"Good. Give the order: if anything moves on that mountain, kill it."
With a firm nod the guard disappeared and Shyloh's heart hammered in her chest.
"You wouldn't really kill them would you?" she dared to ask, but Thranduil fixed her with a superior look.
"The dwarves are out of time," he said coolly, then he swept from the tent.
Eyes wide with shock, she made to follow him but Gandalf snatched her arm.
"There is no use arguing," he said heavily. "Thranduil's mind is fixed on only one thing now, and that's reclaiming his kingdom's heirlooms. They march at dawn to the gates."
"He can't kill them though!" she gasped but Gandalf's expression told her that the King would do whatever it took to accomplish his goal.
The wizard sighed and then leaned back and eyed her curiously. "Thranduil seems to have taken a liking to you. Strange, as it seems to take a lot to get on his good side," he said quietly.
She jerked her chin towards him. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Before he could answer, Thranduil stepped back inside the tent so Gandalf fell into thoughtful silence. He took a long drag on his pipe and puffed it out of the corner of his lips like she'd seen him do hundreds of times.
"You've changed my dear," he said slowly, and Thranduil's eyes snapped to the two of them quickly.
Mistaking his meaning, she looked down at her clothes and shrugged. "No I haven't. I'm wearing the same thing I was hours ago."
He hummed and let another puff of smoke escape his mouth. "That is not what I meant."
Thranduil watched the two of them carefully and quietly, and saw the elleth frown with annoyance as she turned away from the wizard.
"You know, you told Bilbo that once," she said. She sank down into an empty arm chair and crossed one knee over the other. "You told him it wasn't entirely for the better."
He hummed thoughtfully again. "Perhaps your change is better."
Before she could ask what he meant by that, he spun on his heel and disappeared out the tent in a swirl of grey fabric and pipe smoke. She shook her head.
"What the heck is that supposed to mean?" she grumbled, and she crossed her arms over her middle in frustration.
"I do not pretend to understand the inner workings of a wizard's mind," Thranduil said lightly as he sank down onto his seat and her face flushed. She'd forgotten he was there.
She sighed and frowned. "Has he always been so..." she flicked her hand in the air like she was trying to find the right word.
"Cryptic?" he offered and she snapped her fingers.
"Yes, cryptic."
Thranduil tilted his head thoughtfully then gave her a less than amused look. "Afraid so."
"Great."
"Perhaps he meant it as a compliment."
The corners of her mouth twitched. "What if..." she hesitated and drew a breath, choosing her next words carefully and slowly. "What if you've changed but aren't sure that change is for the best? What if you're not ready for that change?"
He blinked as if he were surprised she was asking him such a question, and was quiet for a length before answering; his tone gentle and calm. "You take each day one at a time. We all change as we grow. Some things change us forever, some for better, and some for worse. Some changes we never truly grow to accept, and some we accept as easily as air."
She sighed through her nose and pressed her lips together, then stared down at the ground in front of her.
"What if someone doesn't accept the change in you? Or, what if someone else changes because you both changed, but they don't accept the fact they've changed? What do you do then?"
Thranduil considered his answer very carefully and his heart lurched at the question. He knew – he could tell from the look in her eyes even if she wasn't looking at him – who that someone was she was asking about. It was confirmation enough for him that she knew what had transpired between herself and Legolas back in the clearing. Matters of the heart were always difficult to explain; everyone was different. She looked so vulnerable in that moment while she leaned back in her seat; eyes downcast and troubled thoughts rolling through her.
She hadn't given the Prince much thought since she left the Woodland Realm. Opting to keep him from her thoughts as much as possible. The maids said he was chasing after Tauriel, and he was clearly not here with his father's army to reclaim their kingdom's heirlooms. Perhaps that was who he had chosen. She would have to do more research on bonding. Maybe it didn't mean what she thought it meant.
Before Thranduil could answer her troubled questions, the tent flap ruffled and Bard entered the glow of the lamplight followed closely by Gandalf and...Bilbo!
"Bilbo!" she cried and jumped up from her seat in shock.
The hobbit's eyes widened in surprise and a grin spread across his face. "Shy! Oh, Shy! We've been so worried about you!"
"I'm fine, how are you? Are the others – I mean – are the others – are they..." she fumbled for the right words but he knew exactly what she was trying to ask.
"They're all still here! Every one of us."
Relief flooded over her like a tidal wave and she let out a huge sigh. "Oh, thank goodness!"
Gandalf gave a hearty smile and chuckled. "Good news for you at last," he said to her and she smiled for the first time in days.
"You know the dwarves?" Bard asked, his face furrowing into a frown. His eyes pierced her with an intense gaze that made the smile on her face falter just a little.
"Shyloh was part of our company," Bilbo announced, and he looked surprised that the man wouldn't have known this bit of information. "Well, until we got separated in Mirkwood. Most unfortunate."
Bard only nodded slowly but Gandalf cleared his throat.
"If I am not mistaken," Thranduil said as his eyes focused on the hobbit. "This is the halfling who stole the keys to my dungeons from under the nose of my guards."
Bilbo stilled and guilt streaked across his face. "Er...yes...sorry about that."
There was an awkward pause that filled the tent while both Lords assessed the hobbit.
"I came," Bilbo said suddenly, strolling toward the table in the center of the tent. "To give you this."
He laid a bundle on the table and unfurled the crumpled fabric, revealing a smooth, bright, shiny white stone. Thranduil rose slowly from his seat, his eyes widening in shock and Bard followed suit.
"The heart of the mountain," Thranduil said softly, as if he couldn't believe his very eyes. "The King's Jewel."
Gandalf looked just as surprised by this revelation, but remained quiet and watchful.
"And worth a King's ransom," Bard said as he stepped closer to the stone. "How is this yours to give?"
"I took it as my fourteenth share of the treasure," Bilbo said calmly
"Why would you do this?" wondered Bard. "You owe us no loyalty."
Bilbo shook his head. "I'm not doing it for you," he stated. "Now I know that dwarves can be obstinate, and pigheaded, suspicious, and difficult, with the worst manners you could possibly imagine. But they are also brave, kind, and loyal to a fault. And I've grown very fond of them and would save them If I can. Now, Thorin values this stone above all else. In exchange for its return, I believe he will give you what you're owed. There will be no need for war."
Bard and Thranduil shared a look. Gandalf waited anxiously for a response. Shyloh eyed Bilbo suspiciously. Did Thranduil not just order anything caught moving on the mountain to be killed? So how exactly did he make his way into the walls of Dale without being seen? Then again, this was the hobbit that jail broke thirteen dwarves out of prison.
The decision was made and the stone was accepted by both Lords. No one said a word while the stone was wrapped back up and tucked inside Bard's coat for safe keeping. Then, the wizard quickly pulled Bilbo from the tent, a heavy hand covering his shoulder. Bilbo shot her a quick look and small smile before allowing himself to be led from the tent. She stood there apprehensively, and then she picked up the hem of her skirt and dashed out of the tent after the two of them before anyone could stop her.
"Bilbo," she gasped as she fell into step with them. "Please, what is happening out there? What is going on with Thorin?"
Bilbo looked exasperated and shook his head. "We've needed you Shy," he said. "We've really needed you. And I am sorry, truly sorry we left you behind. You have no idea how upset we were when Thorin said we had no choice but to leave without you."
"He dismissed me from the company, why would you have taken me along?"
Bilbo blinked in surprise. "Wait, what do you mean he dismissed you? He said there was no time to figure out a way to get you away from the guards and that we had no choice."
"Didn't he tell you?" she asked. "He dismissed me when he and I went to talk to Thranduil in the throne room after we arrived."
Gandalf shifted uncomfortably.
"He told you that?" he asked wide eyed.
"Not exactly with those words, but it was basically implied."
"That doesn't make any sense. Are you sure?"
"Of course I'm sure."
Bilbo shook his head. "You must have misunderstood. Do you know how many times he said he wished you were there with us? Especially once Smaug was dead."
"You didn't hear him Bilbo," she said. "You didn't hear the things he said to me. He thought I led you all to the Woodland Realm; said it was all my fault and that I was in league with the King. I've never heard someone talk like that; with so much rage and hatred."
"He never said anything about dismissing you from the company when he came to the dungeons. It tore him up to leave you behind. What choice did we have? You were on the opposite side of the palace and being guarded."
Gandalf cleared his throat suddenly, startling the two of them and drawing them apart.
"Well, now, back to the main issue. Bilbo, you must rest up tonight, and leave on the morrow. You must get as far from here as possible."
"No, no you picked me as the fourteenth man I am not about to leave the company now," Bilbo argued.
"There is no more company, not anymore. Shyloh has already been dismissed and I don't like to think what Thorin will do when he finds out what you've done."
"I'm not afraid of Thorin," said Bilbo, but then Gandalf rounded on him.
"Well you should be," the wizard growled. "Don't underestimate the evil of gold. Gold of which a serpent has long brooded. Dragon sickness seeps into the hearts of all who come near this mountain." He looked fondly at the two of them, then added, "Almost all of them."
Shyloh felt only a little comforted by his last words, and then her heart sank. Was Thranduil suffering from dragon sickness now too? Did that explain his mood swings?
"You there!" Gandalf called out and Shyloh had to twist around to see who he was talking to, and her heart sank even more. The dark outline of a skulking Alfrid stopped and peered at the three of them from under his long hair. "Find this hobbit a bed, and fill his belly with hot food. He's earned it."
Slowly and grudgingly, Alfrid moved closer to them as his eyes drifted over Shyloh's outline, as if only just realizing she was standing there.
"Will you be coming too, Princess?" asked the man, and she shuddered a little at his wandering gaze.
"Don't count on it," a voice snapped, and she didn't have to turn around to see who had spoken. She could feel the presence of her ever faithful guard step up behind her.
Alfrid seemed to recoil a little and gave the guard a glare, then motioned towards Bilbo to follow and together the two of them disappeared into the crowd.
Gandalf eyed her under his bushy eyebrows, then quietly turned to her guard. She turned around, lifting the hem of her skirt as she did, and flashed an annoyed smile.
"Sidhel," she sighed. "Back so soon?"
He gave her an angry look. "You were supposed to stay in the tent."
She raised an eyebrow. "Sidhel, I've made it this far in life without a guard hovering over my shoulder. Besides, if you haven't noticed, Gandalf is right here."
"If you haven't noticed, Princess, you are also out here unarmed."
She sighed, then turned to the wizard. "Gandalf, have you met Sidhel? He's my personal babysitter."
"Yes," said Gandalf thoughtfully. "I do believe I recognize you. Are you not one of Legolas' personal guards?"
Sidhel bobbed his head. "Yes, but ernil nin Legolas is not among our company at the moment, and myself and others of his guard have been assigned to the Princess' side."
Shyloh stilled as she started putting two and two together. "Wait," she held up a hand. "You're the Prince's personal guard? Shouldn't you be protecting him then?"
"We have been assigned to you in his absence," Sidhel said impatiently.
"And just where is Prince Legolas?" asked Gandalf.
Sidhel gave him a hard look. "He has ridden North with another member of our company. That is all I know at the moment."
"North you say?" Gandalf confirmed, then he put his pipe in his mouth and grew quiet. "That is interesting."
Shyloh pressed her lips together in frustration. "I do not need a guard," she said defensively.
Sidhel scowled. "I dare say you do."
"I have been under lock and key from the moment I stepped foot inside the borders of the Woodland Realm," she argued. "We're not inside the boarders anymore; I don't think I need guards on my heel every step I take."
"You have no guard's from Rivendell here to protect you," Sidhel snapped, his scowl deepening.
"I don't -,"
"Enough," interrupted Gandalf. "Shyloh, as independent as you like to be, Sidhel is right, especially given the present situation."
She opened her mouth to argue but he held up a hand to silence her.
"Give this old wizard some peace of mind, will you?" he asked gently, and her shoulders slumped.
She folded her arms and glared at Sidhel, who mirrored her expression perfectly.
"Now that that's settled," said Gandalf with a smile. "Off to bed with you."
She turned her glare onto Gandalf, then spun on her heel and left, ignoring the awkward looks from her other guard's as she hurried past them. That was the final straw and now...well, let's just say she was plotting.
She rose before daybreak but she wasn't the first one awake. The city never seemed to sleep so her rest was fitful as guard's marched along the streets or metal on metal clanged. Men shouted and laughed at each other, attempting to raise the sullen spirits of their fellow lads. Torches and lanterns made the shadows dance across the walls of her tent, making her thoughts dark and troubled. The healer's aids never came to notify her if she was needed so she assumed everything had gone well over night. Either that, or they'd been told not to bother her and one of the other healer's had taken over.
She dressed quickly in the dark, not bothering to light the candle that sat on the small table next to her cot. She pulled on her leggings and dark blue tunic and exchanged the slippers for her tall leather boots. Braiding her hair in a plait, she let it hang down over her front while she slung the dress from last night over the chair carelessly. She heeded Sidhel's words from last night, and vowed silently never to be without her weapons again, so she shouldered her sword, quiver, and bow and stepped out of her tent.
The two guard's outside her tent had clearly heard her moving around and one of them must have notified the others, because just as the flap closed behind her Eithrian, Ganir, and Tinnion arrived. Nodron gave her an assessing look and frowned, but Sidhel was nowhere in sight.
"And just where are we off to so early, my Lady?" he asked quietly, eyeing her bow in hand.
"To the healing tents," she said without looking at anyone, and set off in that direction without waiting for approval. They followed, but Nodron's frown stayed in place as they walked down the streets.
The sun was rising now, and the dark shadows were slowly beginning to lessen as she led the way to the white peeked tents that made up the healing wards. When they got there, she met a grim faced Galdiron, and he looked up at her in surprise.
"Shyloh," he sighed, then looked her over carefully. "I have a feeling you had quite a long night."
"Afraid I couldn't find much rest," she admitted and he nodded.
"Afraid none of us could," he agreed. "I was just about to begin the morning rounds, would you care to join me?"
Willingly she agreed, and Nodron mimicked Sidhel's movements the day before and kept out of her way while she made her way down the line of patients. She was half way through her row a couple hours later when Sidhel finally made an appearance. He spoke a few words with Nodron but Shyloh couldn't hear what was said between them. They both glanced her way so she had a pretty good idea she was somehow in the mix of their conversation, and when Nodron left the tent, Sidhel turned and stepped up close to her.
"I need to speak with you," he said quietly in her ear.
"I'm busy right now," she said without glancing up at him as she checked the bandage on a sleeping patient's arm.
"It cannot wait," he said but she shook her head.
"It'll have to, I'm in the middle of my rounds."
"Princess, please -,"
"Sidhel, I am in the middle of my rounds, so unless it is life or death, it can wait."
He scowled and looked like he might argue, but then straightened and marched out of the tent much to her surprise, and she watched him go. Galdiron glanced over at her curiously as Nodron resumed his place inside the tent. His eyes drifted over her but she only took a deep breath and returned to checking her patients.
Sidhel did not return and as the patient's started rousing she began her work all over again. As daybreak broke over the city, the streets emptied of soldiers, both elves and men, and the sudden quietness that surrounded them was a little eerie. According to Galdiron, Thranduil and Bard had assembled their troops at the front gates of Erebor. The 'negotiations' were beginning.
She tried not to worry over the dwarves. Surely Bilbo's plan would work, and Thorin would be a little more willing to negotiate for the return of the Arkenstone. It had to work; there really was no other way. The dwarves were clearly out numbered, couldn't they see that?
Sighing, she wiped her hands for the hundredth time on a towel and slung it over her shoulder. There was still no sign of Sidhel but she tried not to be concerned. Stepping out from under the cover of the tent, she took a deep breath and that was when they heard it. Nodron was by her side in an instant and his eyes swept the city streets but there was no explanation for the strange sound they were hearing. Seeing nothing, they silently made their way down a few side streets until they came to a break in the high wall facing the Lonely Mountain. Her eyes widened at the scene before them. Standing in perfect formation was Thranduil's army and tucked inside the folds of the gold armor were the handful of soldier's from Esgaroth.
She realized that the soldier's weren't facing the mountain, and as her eyes searched the surrounding landscape, they understood what the strange noise was. Glinting against the rays of the sun, an army of dwarves crested the horizon.
Welcome new followers to Shyloh's journey. Thank you for the reviews and comments, as always, they are appreciated.
-S
