Everything happens for a reason.

She lost her wits trying to create some form of conversation.

There was so much Éla wanted to tell Thorin; to make him understand her. Why she blurted that out, she did not know. Her words made no sense and its only purpose was the truth. Truth. A funny little word always surrounded by lies.

Éla wanted him to know something about her, something as leverage to accept her for who she was. Even if it was buried in memory she felt at the time, that piece of information would shed light on what had defined her. The world was a very judgmental place, so what better way to understand a person than to reflect on a child's parent? This goes without saying that many become the product of their environment. It is also debatable, for Thorin has yet to follow in his grandfather's footsteps. But he was not the late King Thror, just as she was not her father.

She was lost. Perhaps insecurities were eating her alive. Or perhaps it was something more.

Éla covered her head under a pillow. This had become so childish, and for her age too! It made her want to scream again for acting so young, not that she was 'old'. They were just nearing the end of their prime supposedly wiser, more mature and battle-hardened. Yeah right. She would have nothing more than to see Erebor retaken and the dwarves regaining their pride as a once great and noble race. So long as interferences were kept at bay.

These fresh, underdeveloped emotions were terrifying to have on such a quest, especially when it involved the dwarf leader. Éla continued to come to terms with the feelings and found it was easier not to ignore it. Anyone could be physically attracted to the dwarf who would be king. For the maiden, the attraction went above and beyond that of a loyal acquaintance and friend. She felt foolish for being caught off guard at a pivotal time during their stay, but took some comfort in putting a partial blame on Thorin himself.

It always took two to start something, yet Éla could not resist thinking that he was leading her on. The instigation from both sides has resulted in a drawback scenario. Hrm...For Durin's sake stop thinking in a rant. The back and forth whether the future king would reciprocate those feelings and the female's second-guessing was enough to drive anyone mad. Éla stopped all train of thought and forced herself to come to a conclusion once and for all: emotions that have gone astray shall be put to the side and buried. None of it will be spoken to anyone and she will not get involved with anyone. Dark eyes shut out the world, begging for the night to take her tired form.

Easier said than done, therefore time shall remain the everlasting determining factor.

Year 2799 – TA (Third Age)
Location: Dunland

"Mother, will you not come outside?" The young female walked over to the dwarf sitting idly by the fire. "Mother?"

Ragged and worn features resembled that of the elders watching and waiting for the unknown. Hair unkempt and deep eyes staring into oblivion; the dwarf remained in silence. "What is the point?"

"Fresh air? You have been sitting in that chair for days. It worries me to no end."

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not." Élarinya chided. She held out a steaming mug with a soothing herbal aroma that filled the small house. The dwarf did not take it and simply turned her head away. "You've barely eaten since he left and hardly sleep."

"He is gone."

"You don't know that." Éla protested, doing her best to prevent her tone from rising. Nine years earlier, King Thrain II had rallied every able body to wage war against the orcs after the beheading of his father Thror, at the hands of the pale orc, Azog. Éla's brother Nil was one to eagerly join the massive growing dwarf army. For the past six years, news spread of small victories against the Orc strongholds within the Misty Mountains. Word then spread like fire of the final battle before the East-Gate of Moria only days ago. Winter days were dark, almost a prelude to what was to be expected if or when their warriors and loved-ones would return. Few numbers were sent out at the beginning, and those who stayed behind for financial and economic reasons were plagued with fear. She herself held onto any hope of her younger brother still alive and fighting. Above all, she hoped for his safe return in dread that their mother would wither away from yet another loss.

Messengers had come and gone through this time, the last arriving about a month ago with parchments covered in names of the warriors marching to Khazad-dûm. Éla distinctly caught what she thought was her brother's signature in rushed writing. Though, nothing was ever certain. The news brought temporary relief as this final battle at Azanulbizar would conclude the War of the Dwarves and Orcs, but it did not overshadow reality of the fallen.

"I can feel it." Quiet sobs filled the still room.

Éla tightened the clutch on the mug, her knuckles going white. They had all been on edge more so now than ever. Worst of all, she hated to see her mother lose the will to live since her youngest child had volunteered to take part in the war. Éla would have gone herself if not for her gender.

"He was not ready." Her mother whispered, holding back the sorrow which etched itself within her heart. Nothing could be done to bring comfort and happiness to a mother in a situation such as this. War was inevitable and Nil wanted to prove his worth to live up to his father's reputation and expectations. Their family had been put through so much with their father's gallant death and not knowing the fate of a young, naive Nil.

Seeing the elder dwarf in such a state made Éla's chest feel heavy. "I think I will go for a stroll."

She received no argument or debate from the woman which saddened her greatly. Leaving her mother alone, the maiden wrapped her cloak around her shoulders and quietly shut the door behind her. The weather was cool but winter's white coverings had not fallen yet. It was still early in the season. Éla roamed the markets of Dunland, bypassing merchants readying to close shop and head home for dinner. Dried leaves crunched under her boots and she tightened the cloak around her form in the evening air. Éla ended up stopping in front of the gate to the city. Its enormous wooden doors shunned their home from the outside world. Her mind blank, Éla stared, frozen in place like a statue carved from stone. She did not know how long she remained immobile until a bell was rung, signalling the guards to open the gateway.

The sound resonated throughout every building and halls, its people rushing out onto the streets. Éla gathered her senses and stepped off to the side as a few guardsmen took up positions lining a short path into the city. Townsfolk swarmed the center square waiting in confusion and silence as the first set of individuals entered, shortly followed by others. The deathly stillness was replaced with cheer as King Thrain II had returned alive with his eldest son Thorin at his side. The young prince showed no emotion as he looked around at those gathered to greet them upon arrival. All speech was blocked into a hum as Éla's eyes grew wide with anticipation, turning her attention from the dwarf king and prince to their followers. The dwarves had succeeded and drove the orcs back, but at a heavy cost of the lives of their kin.

The battle was officially over.

Éla hadn't moved a muscle as she scanned the weary and wounded souls as they passed. So few had returned, just under one thousand give or take. That was her approximate of course as she patiently waited and overlooked each one as they dragged their feet home. Optimism quickly diminished once the last few passed and the gate re-closed. Éla stared once more at the wooden doors as if her glare would miraculously open it, revealing one more dwarf who had yet to show himself.

Her heart sunk and all faith vanished as the gates did not open. There must have been some mistake. Surely her younger brother was still alive and well somewhere, playing a nasty trick on her. A few moments passed and the streets began to clear, following the king to his halls along with warriors and their loved ones. Éla faced away from the gate and to the crowd slowly leaving her alone amidst the hollow streets. One warrior had turned to look behind. Intense blue eyes bypassed her figure towards the gate before being shoved along and out of view.

The wind picked up and nipped at her nose but Éla couldn't have cared less. Even after most of the citizens were home and off the streets, the maiden remained fixed in the same spot. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs from the despair and hurt building up inside. Her entire body felt heavy as tears glazed her sight. Weakness caved in and her knees crashed against the stone-cold street, her face buried in her hands.

Nil was dead.

Thorin jolted awake. He had been dreaming. Good or bad, it clarified one of his speculations. He had seen Éla before, if only briefly. The dwarf was then lost in trance trying to pinpoint who Nihlir was. There were so many in the guard and trying to visualize a memory lost in a place for over one hundred years was no easy feat. He leaned back into the mattress and closed his eyes. The maiden's statement spoke in numerous tones which made Thorin regret many of his actions towards her.

Everything stirred with confusion. He could not repel the maiden from the company if he wished…nor himself.

Éla tossed and turned all night. Sunrise was still a few hours early, so the maiden put on her trousers and tunic that had been cleaned and repaired by tailors and snuck downstairs. Quietly grabbing her cloak and a borrowed sword from the town's armory, Éla left the house and headed for the training grounds alone. A light fog had settled over Esgaroth in the cool, autumn morning. It was chilly, but she did not mind if it meant she could leave without a fuss or escort as the men were soon known to do.

"The outside is not meant for women to venture off unaccompanied." They would say. Well, the guards at the front gate would warn her at the very least and she would have to reassure their worried minds. They took extra precautions since Élarinya was under the guardianship of Thorin, 'King under the Mountain'. Heaven forbid anything bad would happen to the only female dwarf in his company during their stay in the town of men.

This had become routine over the past two mornings since sleep remained disturbed, plagued by the unknown. The guards' overprotective concerns had been comforting to a degree, but Éla needed time to herself away from anything and anyone associated with the quest and Erebor.

Physical activities had become a wonderful stress reliever.

Before breakfast could be served, the female dwarf was already back inside the house and changing into yet another dress. With just two minutes to spare, the house came to life. Éla took the cue and walked out of her room on the second floor. Thorin walked out at exactly the same time and Éla stopped cold in her tracks.

"Good morning." She greeted with caution. Éla wasn't sure how he would react after last night. His gaze quickly trailed over her but she stood in confidence, resulting in an almost approved quirk from his raised brow. Thorin extended his arm for her to go ahead without a word just as the others exited their rooms. Dwalin waited for his friend, nodding as the female headed down the stairs. No matter how many times she felt Thorin's gaze on her back, it always made her nervous. Éla was out of sight before the young princes could follow.

Upon entering the dining room, the food was already prepared once more and Bombur's plate was stacked with hopefully his last serving. Éla sat down in the middle of the table with Bilbo taking a seat next to her and Gloin on the other side. The others filtered in eagerly for some energy to start the day. Her lack of discussion that morning hadn't gone unnoticed by the company and so she presently used the Halfling as a diversion after his unaccounted sneezing every few minutes.

"Bilbo, are you coming down with a cold?" Éla asked quietly after their meal.

The hobbit blew his stuffy nose in a handkerchief. "Maybe."

"Come, I'll get you something warm to drink."

After Éla led Bilbo back into the kitchen and he was situated with a steaming mug that seemed to do the trick, their tranquility was interrupted by a knock on the front door. Éla walked over into the entranceway to the living room to see who it was as Balin opened the door. A tall man bowed in their presence but did not enter.

"The Master of Lake Town would like to invite Thorin son of Thrain and company to a banquet in your honor tonight, if you so choose to accept."

The dwarves turned to Thorin for approval, the younger members eagerly wanting to attend. He nodded to the messenger in acceptance and with very little hesitation.

"We will accept."

"Wonderful! I will notify The Master of your decision. Have a good day." The man bowed again in respect then took his leave.

Bilbo had made his way over beside Éla. "Do the men think we're famous?"

"So it seems." Gloin responded just as excited.

Kili stood from his seat elatedly to the upcoming event. "Just think: more feasting and more drinks!"

Éla laughed at the young prince's overexerted enthusiasm. "There must be more to it than food and drink."

"Aye, there are some rules to follow." Balin's sudden explanation hampered the excited atmosphere. "We must behave accordingly and with utmost respect while in the presence of The Master. These are not like our feasting halls."

Balin went through the trouble of preparing the company on proper etiquette for a feast of high social status. The members were to refrain from using any bad table manners, but that would be unavoidable and a miracle in itself. They were dwarves. It would be a real surprise if the feast ended without any mishaps or food fights.

All afternoon was spent staring into a wardrobe. No new clothing was produced for the company just yet and Éla debated on which dress would be most suitable for the dinner. Each one was simple and nothing lavished for a banquet, which made the decision more difficult. Her door had been locked for hours so no one would disturb her thought process. The orange dress hung clean, but Éla did not want to repeat her appearance from their first night in Lake Town. With time running short, she chose one that was a solid forest green in color with a square neckline and three-quarter length sleeves. The underlying material was black as were the seams.

Once she managed to tie the back, Éla focused on her hair. The maids who tended to her upon their arrival had completely undone all her braids minus the silver strand, not that there was any significant meaning to them. Her hair was still loosely tied up in a ponytail and she never bothered to do anything with it. Upon thinking it over, she untied her hair and pulled back the top half, securing it through one of the metal clasps. A simple half up-do should suffice.

Éla overlooked her appearance one final time approvingly. As she reached for the door's handle, dark eyes fell onto a small satchel attached to her trousers and contemplated taking out the item hidden within. The elves hadn't discovered it during their imprisonment for it was hidden away beneath her clothes and armor. Éla shook her head. That would be saved for another day.

By now, the dwarves had grown accustomed to the female wearing a dress. So when she came down the stairs they didn't make a big fuss over her appearance. The only ones still relatively surprised were the hobbit and Kili who kept whispering to his older brother.

"Three days back in civilized society and you're in a dress each day." Bilbo marveled through a whisper as they filed out the door.

"Might as well get use to it because that's all I have right now." She chuckled.

They headed down to The Master's house and were immediately greeted and seated. The evening overall went rather well with minor issues. The dwarves were in lifted spirits throughout the feast and seldom remembered Balin's advice. It was to be expected but the men did not seem to mind much. Conversations were uneventful until it was time to go. Éla was held back by The Master's egotistical stares as the rest of the company rose from their seats and said their good-nights.

"Can I help you?" Éla asked after she had passed the head of the table.

"I was just admiring the beauty of a dwarf woman. It's not every day we see one from your race."

The tall man leaned forward on his elbows, scanning her with great concentration. The act made her uncomfortable.

"Your flattery should be cautioned." She warned.

"Oh?"

Her response only further enticed his attention on Éla before she realized her mistake. "It would be in your best interest not to say another word."

The Master was almost taken aback in shock. "My lady, you are forgetting who runs this town."

His eyes roamed over her in a most violating way without even laying down a finger. It made her stomach want to churn. Alas, she remained respectful and quickly bowed prior to exiting his halls, but that did not stop the disgust that settled in.

The main door to his house was opened to the streets. Éla saw the backs of Fili and Kili as they casually walked down the long hallway outside. Most of the company was out of sight, already heading home. The female picked up her pace to catch up but was stopped by an unusual question.

"What services do you provide?"

Éla turned around, stopped at the door. "I beg your pardon?"

Two cleaning maids, one with greying hair and the other no more than a young adult, watched the female dwarf in keen interest.

"Surely you are part of the King's company for the sole purpose of intriguing their interests, shall I say?" The older of the two asked cunningly.

"What do you know of the interests of dwarves?" Éla retorted, crossing her arms. She did not like where this was going.

The elder woman smirked as if accomplishing what she sought. "No worries. I'm sure your masters will make a visit to the red-light district at some point during their stay."

"I suggest you hold your tongue and go back to the bordello from which you crawled out from, you filthy piece of trash." Éla replied coolly then stormed off, leaving the two women to seep in the insult.

Fili and Kili had overheard raised voices before turning around to see their companion fuming as she whizzed by in hurry to get out of sight.

"Let's go." She commanded. The brothers had to quicken their pace in order to keep up with her infuriated strides back to the house. They didn't want to get on Éla's bad side so they followed the storming female without question.

The living room fell silent as Éla nearly slammed the door on the young princes upon entering.

"Where are you going?" Bilbo was a bit concerned by her outrage.

"I need out of these clothes." She responded shakily and began unfastening the back of the dress as she ran upstairs to her room. "I can't breathe."

None wanted to stand in her way and allowed the scene to unfold. Dwalin looked accusingly at the brothers. "What did you two do?"

"Nothing." Fili answered.

"We swear." Kili pleaded. They were telling the truth. "We heard yelling and looked back-"

"-Éla was talking with some women of men."

"Do you know what words were exchanged?" Bofur piped in. The brothers shook their heads.

Moments later, a heavy knock pounded on the door. Fili opened it since he was closest and another messenger stood before them.

"The Master is requesting the presence of your king immediately. The matter is quite urgent."

Fili looked at his uncle unsurely, as did the others.

Thorin stood and made his way to the door. "Balin, come with me. Dwalin, you're in charge. No one is to leave until we get back."

"Aye."

The dwarves exchanged disquieting looks as their leader's solid footsteps faded outside.

"What is the problem?" Thorin questioned blankly.

The Master glanced across at the two dwarves standing in his study. He had offered them to sit but Thorin was slowly becoming enraged by the man's smiling features. Balin remained close with caution, hoping no action will be taken physically.

"I should ask you that very question," was The Master's reply. "Your female companion had insulted my servants."

Thorin raised a brow at the remark. "Élarinya would not insult anyone."

"Élarinya. You condone this behaviour from your women then?"

The man's emphasis on her name made Thorin's blood boil. Balin saw this and thought it best to intervene.

"There are usually two sides to every story. Our friend came back quite upset. Your servants must have said something to provoke an insult, if any."

With a smile, The Master recounted what was told to him, seeing no wrong done from his kin. Thorin, on the other hand, grew angry. He would have spoken harshly towards the man if not for Balin's calmer persona.

"Well, we can all agree that both sides were at fault. We'll take care of our problem and be on our way so long as you take care of yours." The dwarf gently nudged Thorin's arm to leave. He returned a curt nod with a menacing glare before proceeding out of the room.

An hour later, Thorin and Balin had come back none too pleased.

"Is everything alright?" Dwalin asked upon their arrival.

Thorin stomped to the edge of the staircase and looked to his company. "I do not want any of you to be associated with the women of this town for the remainder of our stay. Is that understood?"

He received frequent nods. With his temper nearing a breaking point, not one member dared to speak until he was out of audible range. When he made it to Éla's door, he knocked twice.

"Éla, open the door."

"Please, leave me be."

Frustrated, Thorin knocked more firmly. "Open this door or you will no longer have one."

To his surprise, the female unlocked it and met him in the doorway.

"I would prefer to be alone for the moment." Éla stated, not meeting his gaze. She really wasn't in the mood for company.

Thorin saw she was upset, but he could not let this go. "Get dressed, we're going to the training grounds."

Éla looked up at him wide-eyed. "At this hour?"

The dwarf turned to his room for a change of clothes. "We need to talk, and you need the practice."

Reluctantly, Éla changed into her trousers and followed Thorin out of the house without a word. He had exchanged quick glances with Balin before they departed for a night of sparring. Luckily the town's armory was open all day and night, so before they passed the gate Thorin grabbed a pair of swords from the smith-keeper inside. Éla trailed behind as he led her across the wooden bridge onto solid land and into the forest where they were sure to remain alone.

Thank you for the continued support (and unaccountable patience!) This chapter was honestly a pain to write and i kept revising so many parts and ideas.
So, funny story regarding Éla and the maids:
I was out with some friends and the bar we were at had a section that was joined to a strip-club. The dialogue between Éla and the women was actually said to a young girl and her boyfriend as one of the 'dancers' came to the bar side of the building and started talking smack.

Seeing how the race of men tends to be tainted, I thought it would be most fitting considering that dwarves (from what I've read) aren't known to indulge in those types of services or behavior.

With that said, I think there will be more questions answered in the next chapter. (Which is already being written, so no more long waits this week!)