Chapter 20
Legolas waited with the dwarves for a response from the seemingly empty gates. But they did not have long to wait. Two fair heads rose over the gates, their bows drawn at the ready.
"Release Prince Legolas," one of them said.
Gloin glared defiantly back and out of the corner of his eye Legolas saw the three most immediate dwarves surrounding him raise their axes and hold them close to him.
"Lower your bows," Gloin said, "I will speak only to the King."
Legolas saw the two elves glance at each other and then back at Legolas, clearly assessing how serious the dwarves with their weapons drawn were. Wisely, they seemed to come to the decision that Legolas' life would indeed be in danger if they were to fire two single arrows, so they lowered them.
"You will bring the prince in through the gates," one of them said. "There negotiations can be met."
Gloin was not easily fooled. "I will come in only if half of my contingent is allowed with me."
The elf seemed angered. "No harm will come to you during a period of negotiations."
"Or to you," Gloin said, "so then what is the fear of allowing my kinsmen in with me?"
The elves seemed to consider again. "We will leave the gates open and you will not have to come all the way in," one finally said. "That way your kinsmen will be able to clearly see all that happens."
Gloin nodded. "Agreed."
The two elves disappeared and a few moments later the gates were pulled open. Legolas knew what was likely to be on the other side, so it was no surprise when the gates revealed lighted torches surrounding many elven warriors waiting on the other side. All had their bows readied, though they were lax in their hands and the loosely fitted arrows were pointing at the ground. But Legolas knew how quickly the bows could be snapped up and the arrows let fly if they were given the signal.
As Legolas was moved forward, his eyes fell upon his father standing at the apex of the semi-circle the warriors had made, his golden hair and thin crown shining from the flames of the torches. His father met his gaze, and his lips tightened into a thin line. Legolas could tell that his father knew Legolas had not merely been accidentally captured by the dwarves. He was angry with him, but his pride and even a slight fear at Legolas having done something stupid that might cost him his life kept him standing strong.
Gloin stepped beside Legolas, and though most of the dwarves stayed outside the gates, a small group came with them. Most of them came only to keep their weapons held on Legolas, but a few stood with Gloin, one of them of course being Thror.
"I will hand over the prince and negotiations can be made if my own son is returned to me," Gloin said.
Skipping all formal pretenses, Thranduil glanced at a few elves standing off to his right and nodded at them. Without a word, the pair turned and disappeared inside one of the buildings. A few long minutes passed, in which not another word was spoken, before Gimli was brought out. He was bound similarly to Legolas and was flanked on either side by the elves. When he was pulled to a stop, he looked out at the scene before him. His eyes came to rest on Legolas, and a small ironic grin came to his face. Despite the severity of the situation, Legolas could not resisting letting his own lips turn into a grin. He knew Gimli was thinking the same thing, a fine pair they made, both of them bound and held at the mercy of the other's father.
"Release him," Gloin said as soon as he saw his son.
"After negotiations have been made," Thranduil answered, glancing at the elves to make sure they did not leave Gimli's side. "I will hear your terms first, and then you shall hear mine."
Gloin drew himself to his full height, trying to look imposing to the much taller elves. "After Gimli is returned to us unharmed, we will turn around and return to the Lonely Mountain, only on the condition that the elves swear to never again come upon Erebor's boundaries and to provide compensation to the families for those who have already fallen."
Legolas saw a small muscle twitch at the side of his father's mouth. "What is to be the manner of compensation?"
"Fifty pounds of gold for every dwarf killed," Gloin answered.
There was a lot of muttering from the elves at this and they toyed with their bows. The dwarves around Legolas pressed closer to him, showing off the threat to him if one of the elves dared loose an arrow in their direction. The muttering died down.
Thranduil was staring hard at Gloin. Legolas knew that his father certainly had enough gold to meet the demands, but he was often too fond of his treasures to let them go so easily.
"I can swear that we will never again tread the boundaries of Erebor," Thranduil finally spoke up, "but we have our own compensation to be met. If you expect fifty pounds of gold for every life, then we too require fifty pounds of mithril for our losses."
Now it was the dwarves' turn to exclaim and Thror said, "The worth of mithril is beyond that of gold!"
Thranduil turned unkind eyes toward him. "Be that as it may, if you are unyielding in your demands, then I am as well."
Gloin thought for a moment. "Clearly neither of us want a war," he finally said. "Both of our people have already been through enough in the past few years. Our own sons fought together to ensure the safety of all, it would be all for naught if more were to die now. So in that regard, I can lower our compensation to thirty pounds and you will receive twenty pounds of mithril in return. And as for ourselves, we will never again pass through the forests of Eryn Lasgalen."
"How many died in recent combat with the elves?" Thranduil asked.
"Three," Gloin answered, "and one of your own."
"But there is also the manner in which my son was treated in your home," Thranduil said. "What compensation can be made for that?"
"A blind eye for the way in which my own son was treated," Gloin answered, a new bite to his voice.
Legolas was staring hard at his father. He was silently willing him to merely agree and let it go at that. This was already turning out bad enough, if the two did not come to an agreement soon it would not be long before somebody's temper got the better of them.
Thranduil glanced over and caught Legolas' eye. Then he glanced at Gimli. He seemed to assess something in his mind, and then he turned back to Gloin.
"Agreed," he said.
Legolas felt the breath leave him in relief. There was not going to be a war after all.
He felt the ropes holding his hands loosen and he looked over to see the same thing happening to Gimli. They were being released, there was an agreement between the two sides, it was all over.
Legolas was given a push from behind, but he ignored it and stepped forward on his own. Gimli was moving as well, the both of them meeting in the middle.
"I knew you would find a way to stop it," Gimli said quietly.
Legolas smiled. "Only for your sake. I could not risk you getting hurt again."
Gimli smiled as well, but then his expression faltered. "I will not be able to see you again," he said, "no more dwarves allowed in your forest."
"And no more elves at the mountain," Legolas said, his relief and happiness diminishing at the thought.
"At least there was no war," Gimli offered, "though the outcome is as bad."
"We will find a way," Legolas said, not quite believing his own words. "After everybody has had a chance to calm down, we will see each other again."
Gimli gave a wry smile. "Maybe Aragorn will wonder what's been keeping us so long and order us back to the white city."
"Maybe," Legolas agreed, though deep inside he did not think so. This was going to be the last time he saw his friend.
Legolas and Gimli clasped hands before separating and continuing on towards their fathers. But just as Legolas turned, something distracted him. Thror was talking to Gloin, and though he probably thought he was whispering he was underestimating the keen hearing of the elves.
"...will have to melt down all the gold as soon as we get it, in order to purify it from the all the years it's spent in the hands of the elves."
Legolas felt his eyes widen, but it was not because of Thror's comment. It was because a hardened elf that was standing nearby had heard as well and was bringing his bow up.
Before he even knew what he was doing, Legolas was running towards Thror. He only had one thought in his mind, he could not let any blood be shed by an opposite side. Despite all negotiations that had just been made, an immediate fight would break out.
Legolas had almost made it to Thror and he could see the dwarf's surprised expression at being rushed by the elf when he heard the bow sing as it let the arrow fly. Legolas had no time to think and he dove blindly forward, crashing into the sturdy, ironclad dwarf while feeling something like fire pierce his back.
Legolas heard shouting when he landed hard on the ground on top of Thror. Thror lay stunned, not quite sure what had happened, and Legolas felt himself being pulled up. Legolas was beginning to feel the pain coursing down his back from the point where the arrow had hit him and he turned slightly to see who was pulling him up. It was Gloin, but that did not matter at the moment, for when he was pulled up he had turned in time to see Gimli draw his axe and rush a horrified looking elf standing to the side.
Author's Note: Okay, okay, don't kill me! I didn't want to leave such a horrible cliffhanger, but the chapter would have been way too long if I didn't cut it up. I know, that's not much of an excuse, but to show that I have good intentions, I already have the next chapter written and it will be posted ASAP. Okay? Nobody has to die here...okay?
Legolas waited with the dwarves for a response from the seemingly empty gates. But they did not have long to wait. Two fair heads rose over the gates, their bows drawn at the ready.
"Release Prince Legolas," one of them said.
Gloin glared defiantly back and out of the corner of his eye Legolas saw the three most immediate dwarves surrounding him raise their axes and hold them close to him.
"Lower your bows," Gloin said, "I will speak only to the King."
Legolas saw the two elves glance at each other and then back at Legolas, clearly assessing how serious the dwarves with their weapons drawn were. Wisely, they seemed to come to the decision that Legolas' life would indeed be in danger if they were to fire two single arrows, so they lowered them.
"You will bring the prince in through the gates," one of them said. "There negotiations can be met."
Gloin was not easily fooled. "I will come in only if half of my contingent is allowed with me."
The elf seemed angered. "No harm will come to you during a period of negotiations."
"Or to you," Gloin said, "so then what is the fear of allowing my kinsmen in with me?"
The elves seemed to consider again. "We will leave the gates open and you will not have to come all the way in," one finally said. "That way your kinsmen will be able to clearly see all that happens."
Gloin nodded. "Agreed."
The two elves disappeared and a few moments later the gates were pulled open. Legolas knew what was likely to be on the other side, so it was no surprise when the gates revealed lighted torches surrounding many elven warriors waiting on the other side. All had their bows readied, though they were lax in their hands and the loosely fitted arrows were pointing at the ground. But Legolas knew how quickly the bows could be snapped up and the arrows let fly if they were given the signal.
As Legolas was moved forward, his eyes fell upon his father standing at the apex of the semi-circle the warriors had made, his golden hair and thin crown shining from the flames of the torches. His father met his gaze, and his lips tightened into a thin line. Legolas could tell that his father knew Legolas had not merely been accidentally captured by the dwarves. He was angry with him, but his pride and even a slight fear at Legolas having done something stupid that might cost him his life kept him standing strong.
Gloin stepped beside Legolas, and though most of the dwarves stayed outside the gates, a small group came with them. Most of them came only to keep their weapons held on Legolas, but a few stood with Gloin, one of them of course being Thror.
"I will hand over the prince and negotiations can be made if my own son is returned to me," Gloin said.
Skipping all formal pretenses, Thranduil glanced at a few elves standing off to his right and nodded at them. Without a word, the pair turned and disappeared inside one of the buildings. A few long minutes passed, in which not another word was spoken, before Gimli was brought out. He was bound similarly to Legolas and was flanked on either side by the elves. When he was pulled to a stop, he looked out at the scene before him. His eyes came to rest on Legolas, and a small ironic grin came to his face. Despite the severity of the situation, Legolas could not resisting letting his own lips turn into a grin. He knew Gimli was thinking the same thing, a fine pair they made, both of them bound and held at the mercy of the other's father.
"Release him," Gloin said as soon as he saw his son.
"After negotiations have been made," Thranduil answered, glancing at the elves to make sure they did not leave Gimli's side. "I will hear your terms first, and then you shall hear mine."
Gloin drew himself to his full height, trying to look imposing to the much taller elves. "After Gimli is returned to us unharmed, we will turn around and return to the Lonely Mountain, only on the condition that the elves swear to never again come upon Erebor's boundaries and to provide compensation to the families for those who have already fallen."
Legolas saw a small muscle twitch at the side of his father's mouth. "What is to be the manner of compensation?"
"Fifty pounds of gold for every dwarf killed," Gloin answered.
There was a lot of muttering from the elves at this and they toyed with their bows. The dwarves around Legolas pressed closer to him, showing off the threat to him if one of the elves dared loose an arrow in their direction. The muttering died down.
Thranduil was staring hard at Gloin. Legolas knew that his father certainly had enough gold to meet the demands, but he was often too fond of his treasures to let them go so easily.
"I can swear that we will never again tread the boundaries of Erebor," Thranduil finally spoke up, "but we have our own compensation to be met. If you expect fifty pounds of gold for every life, then we too require fifty pounds of mithril for our losses."
Now it was the dwarves' turn to exclaim and Thror said, "The worth of mithril is beyond that of gold!"
Thranduil turned unkind eyes toward him. "Be that as it may, if you are unyielding in your demands, then I am as well."
Gloin thought for a moment. "Clearly neither of us want a war," he finally said. "Both of our people have already been through enough in the past few years. Our own sons fought together to ensure the safety of all, it would be all for naught if more were to die now. So in that regard, I can lower our compensation to thirty pounds and you will receive twenty pounds of mithril in return. And as for ourselves, we will never again pass through the forests of Eryn Lasgalen."
"How many died in recent combat with the elves?" Thranduil asked.
"Three," Gloin answered, "and one of your own."
"But there is also the manner in which my son was treated in your home," Thranduil said. "What compensation can be made for that?"
"A blind eye for the way in which my own son was treated," Gloin answered, a new bite to his voice.
Legolas was staring hard at his father. He was silently willing him to merely agree and let it go at that. This was already turning out bad enough, if the two did not come to an agreement soon it would not be long before somebody's temper got the better of them.
Thranduil glanced over and caught Legolas' eye. Then he glanced at Gimli. He seemed to assess something in his mind, and then he turned back to Gloin.
"Agreed," he said.
Legolas felt the breath leave him in relief. There was not going to be a war after all.
He felt the ropes holding his hands loosen and he looked over to see the same thing happening to Gimli. They were being released, there was an agreement between the two sides, it was all over.
Legolas was given a push from behind, but he ignored it and stepped forward on his own. Gimli was moving as well, the both of them meeting in the middle.
"I knew you would find a way to stop it," Gimli said quietly.
Legolas smiled. "Only for your sake. I could not risk you getting hurt again."
Gimli smiled as well, but then his expression faltered. "I will not be able to see you again," he said, "no more dwarves allowed in your forest."
"And no more elves at the mountain," Legolas said, his relief and happiness diminishing at the thought.
"At least there was no war," Gimli offered, "though the outcome is as bad."
"We will find a way," Legolas said, not quite believing his own words. "After everybody has had a chance to calm down, we will see each other again."
Gimli gave a wry smile. "Maybe Aragorn will wonder what's been keeping us so long and order us back to the white city."
"Maybe," Legolas agreed, though deep inside he did not think so. This was going to be the last time he saw his friend.
Legolas and Gimli clasped hands before separating and continuing on towards their fathers. But just as Legolas turned, something distracted him. Thror was talking to Gloin, and though he probably thought he was whispering he was underestimating the keen hearing of the elves.
"...will have to melt down all the gold as soon as we get it, in order to purify it from the all the years it's spent in the hands of the elves."
Legolas felt his eyes widen, but it was not because of Thror's comment. It was because a hardened elf that was standing nearby had heard as well and was bringing his bow up.
Before he even knew what he was doing, Legolas was running towards Thror. He only had one thought in his mind, he could not let any blood be shed by an opposite side. Despite all negotiations that had just been made, an immediate fight would break out.
Legolas had almost made it to Thror and he could see the dwarf's surprised expression at being rushed by the elf when he heard the bow sing as it let the arrow fly. Legolas had no time to think and he dove blindly forward, crashing into the sturdy, ironclad dwarf while feeling something like fire pierce his back.
Legolas heard shouting when he landed hard on the ground on top of Thror. Thror lay stunned, not quite sure what had happened, and Legolas felt himself being pulled up. Legolas was beginning to feel the pain coursing down his back from the point where the arrow had hit him and he turned slightly to see who was pulling him up. It was Gloin, but that did not matter at the moment, for when he was pulled up he had turned in time to see Gimli draw his axe and rush a horrified looking elf standing to the side.
Author's Note: Okay, okay, don't kill me! I didn't want to leave such a horrible cliffhanger, but the chapter would have been way too long if I didn't cut it up. I know, that's not much of an excuse, but to show that I have good intentions, I already have the next chapter written and it will be posted ASAP. Okay? Nobody has to die here...okay?