Pre-chapter note: (2021)

To everyone who responded to the update that I will continue writing, thank you for all the kind words!
It has been 5 long years since the last chapter was posted, so I kindly ask that you bear with me as I've had to reacquaint myself with my own story. (It's embarrassing to read grammar mistakes and I may go back and re-write parts from earlier chapters to correct certain scenes.) Let me know if you'd like to re-read a fixed version of this story in its entirety.

So without further ado: Enjoy!

Chapter 49:

Fìli tugged on her forearm once more, signaling the female dwarf to follow. The room gradually darkened as they entered, warmth seeping from the hearth, setting a melancholic tone within the confined open space.

Éla followed the young prince past an extended wall, further opening the room into a grand suite fitted with two beds adjacent to the other. Fìli was surprised to see her well. Even more so following an act to begin conversation. Gathered thoughts proved difficult for the heir as his mind remained fragmented by their unforeseen predicament.

"Something must be on your mind."

A sigh escaped as he looked to the far side of the room, too dark for his keen eyes to see the sleeping form of his brother.

"It's just, I think back to the battle and none of us should have survived. We tried to reach Thorin but there were too many. Orcs put a gap between him and Dain. Dwalin wasn't even in sight." Fìli looked up, distraught and confused as he continued to reminisce that fateful day. "An orc sliced my leg as I watched a warg attack you – its teeth clenched around your waist, bringing you down out of sight...Kìli's yell turned me towards him after an arrow shot past my shoulder, I—"

He faded into the memory, suddenly withdrawn from the one he was in contact with moments ago, the quick habit formed of late, a memory too distinct and raw to continue with simple words.

"Fìli, enough." Éla tried to soothe his worry as best she could. Why he continued to confide in her remained a mystery, yet it seemed that most from the Company withdrew from each other as time passed. "You don't need to relive those horrors."

She placed a gentle hand to his arm, careful not to startle him from the dazed memory, bringing his sight unto her own. "We're alive. All of us. Aüle spared our sorrows to live and fight another day."

Grief in Fìli's eyes spread across his face like shadows, his mind still troubled by something unseen. His eyes then bore into hers, unrelenting, questioning what she had already buried in thought.

"Do you...remember what happened after the fight?" His voice hesitant, clued in to what he wished to ask.

"I was barely awake when-" Éla shook her head disapprovingly. "It doesn't matter now."

Fìli noticed the youthful glow which surrounded her earlier in the venture, had faded. Perhaps it was time to share what he brought her in here for. With a deep breath, Fìli sighed audibly in an attempt to expel any ill will plaguing his mind.

"There's something you need to know." He took another shaky breath. "It isn't safe for you to visit Thorin."

Confused, Éla stepped back one pace.

"Falo has guards in place so no one would disturb the king without him knowing."

Fìli paused, waiting for any reaction to break the silence. Guilt riddled his face as he continued. He had hoped for change and yet the mountain's rule was already crumbling beneath their feet from his role. "They're waiting for the first caravan from the Blue Mountains to determine your fate. I..."

Blue eyes downcast toward the stone floors, his courage spent in shame. "I tried to delay it on your behalf, but he won't allow it. Balin has no sway over them. I'm sorry."

In that moment, the gravity of their situation weighed heavily on their shoulders. Deep in her heart, Éla knew her actions would have a profound negative outcome. She knew she should've declined the wizard's invitation all those months ago. She knew better than to meddle in affairs that did not concern her and yet, she knew her life was never meant to return to their homeland. She should never have come.

"Éla?"

The blonde dwarf turned to the voice interrupting. Kìli was no longer resting, having sat up to listen in on the whispers and jives of the night.

"I don't belong here." Was all the she-dwarf could utter.

"You don't mean that." Fìli's eyes widened in surprise. His brother wrestled out of bed, shuffling to join the two near the warmth of the hearth.

"You're family." Kìli protested to reason in a hushed whisper. "You're part of the Company. You have the right to-"

"No," her voice sharp and broken, she mustered what strength she had to continue, "I can never be part of your family. Many laws were broken and I must live the consequences of my actions. The council will most likely see that I be held on trial."

Fìli opened his mouth, only to close it. There were no words that could mend the damage done.

"Well then it's settled." The younger brother flashed a smile and strode towards the door. "Time to pay our uncle a visit."

Despite his arm bound in a sling and his gait slightly off balance from injuries, the dark-haired dwarf motioned for them to follow. The energy he emitted was astonishing at this hour. "Don't worry, there are no guards tonight."

"How did you manage that?" Fìli asked in surprise, joining his brother.

"What this so-called Falo doesn't know, won't hurt him. Now c'mon, before someone does see us." He ushered his brother through the door.

Éla followed shortly behind, shutting the door, careful not to make too much noise through these ancient halls. For a moment, she watched the brothers head towards the chambers where their uncle lay, smiling sadly that it had all come to this.

She would not follow.

As they reached their destination, she turned and backtracked in the opposite direction. The brothers were so preoccupied with each other, that they hadn't noticed their companion slip away. Fìli looked behind, eyes widening as he hushed a yell that wouldn't echo through the stones.

"Where are you going?!"

He watched as she bid them farewell with a wave of a hand before rounding a corner, out of sight. Lips pursed in a fine line, exhaling through his nose in frustration. Nothing could be done now, and yet he understood her decision to not join them. Such a pity it was that they've parted ways, distancing themselves from each other for the sake of the kingdom. Fìli waited a moment before closing the door behind him. A small part of him had hoped he would see his friend change her mind.

In turn, his brother was right, there were no guards in Thorin's chambers that night.

The following days grew sour.

The dwarves of Erebor's efforts to fortify the mountain continued slowly. Those who had strength left rebuilt collapsing walls and beams, and those injured helped with the weak and rationing what supplies remained. By now, every dwarf grew keen on the arrival of their kin from the Blue Mountains in the days to come. Those of the Iron Hills spared what they could, making several journeys between the two kingdoms, thinning resources and warriors alike.

Word spread in tales and song of their king's reclamation as the long nights turned cold. Spirits lifted amidst the sorrow of lost souls being claimed by the battle that now faded in memory. All efforts were focused on the Lonely Mountain and clearing the battleground before it. Armors and weapons intact were gathered, the dead buried or burned in unmarked graves. Time no longer a friend against the harsh season.

Ravens frequented their perches with news of more dwarves nearing the fabled kingdom.

Dain passed along anything of value to his council, as well as the young prince and Lord Balin, who's mind grew grim in thought with each passing day. Kìli spent more and more time in his uncle's chambers while his brother parlayed unnecessarily with the dwarves of the Iron Hills any chance he found. In due time, Fìli had hoped an end would be in sight. Secrecy shrouded empty corridors when word passed of the council being united in the days to come.

Such a day haunted the young heir when he left his brother to find Balin in search of answers.

A week had passed since he last saw Dain Ironfoot busying himself with matters of state upon the caravan's arrival not two fortnights earlier. The chambers they had previously used for gatherings had become vacant. Not a soul was found. Fìli grew impatient as those he sought were hidden in plain sight. With no prior knowledge of Erebor's halls, the dwarf knew nothing of the whereabouts of those who held power. He'd made rounds, searching the dwarves of the Iron Hills, asking for their aide. None would give in. Perhaps, he realized, they simply did not know.

Eagerness set in, a bad feeling that would not leave. He had to find them. Surely, Balin was with them. He must be.

The prince was determined in search for those who cast him out.

"Kìli, for the love of Aüle, I'm alright lad."

The young dwarf had rested his brow on the back of his elder, stifling back tears. Thorin sighed, watching the flames of the hearth dance, allowing his nephew a moment of composure. Joy overcame the prince as he had watched his bed-ridden uncle take those first few steps. All would be well as Oin and the other healers departed. While his injuries healed slowly, Thorin was well enough to stand for a time. He slowly patted the arm wrapped around his side, turning to face his nephew who's smile quickly faded as he fought back tears.

Kìli was overcome with emotion and did not know how to hide it. He was overjoyed and saddened to witness his uncle's fragile state, and yet here he was, able to speak more than two words after so long. His uncle had finally returned to the living. All would be well. Kìli bowed his head, loose strands of hair covering his features alongside firelight, hoping to hide this weakness before eyes leaked in front of his uncle, the king.

Thorin's eyes softened in his nephew's stead. He too, lowered his head, brow meeting his kin's with a hand shakily resting at the back, holding them together in unison. The room fell silent save for the embers crackling on wood from the fire and the distant echoes of the mountain from above.

"It's alright, lad." He repeated once more.

Kìli laughed off his sadness, sniffling and meeting his uncle's gaze, bottom lip quivering every so slightly in defense of his feelings. Thorin's hand moved to his shoulder, gently swaying his nephew as if to bestow strength. The young dwarf had no one to confide in in recent weeks, his brother; his only true companion throughout these hardships, too busy playing king, while seldom seeing the others except on visits to inquire about Thorin's health. They had all come so far, but the journey towards recovery had only begun.

Kìli wiped his eyes with the back of his hand before a tear could be shed in front of his uncle.

"How are your injuries?" Thorin asked, observing the bandages which bound an arm to the young's chest.

"I've managed fine."

"Good". Pleased, Thorin surveyed the young dwarf's face for any trace of lies. He would not have his kin suffering any longer now that he had freedom to move on his own two feet. There was much to do.

"Where's your brother."

The question hung in the air like a plague, robbing them both of voice and sound. Thorin waited as he heard the faintest of whimpers escape Kìli's poor attempt to evade, his own voice failing him. A new battle was about to begin. Fighting within himself not to lose his uncle's trust so quickly, the young prince furrowed his brow, breaking the silence.

"There's something you must know."

What felt like ages, the long search had finally been rewarded. After running on a limp amok through crumbled corridors and dusted chambers aged by time and abandonment, Fìli finally, (finally!) found what he'd been searching for. Hands clenched as he limped towards whispers bouncing off marbled stone, progressing louder as he neared his mark.

Back to a wall, he snuck about, ears tentatively listening to words spoken in a hushed manner of secrecy. Leaning forward, he tilted his head towards another corridor that lead into another unkempt spacious room a short distance away.

Firelight glowed a golden hue off the virescent pillars lining the passage. He lingered in the shadows as the light ahead fragmented from movement within the alcove. Fìli crossed the vast hall, seeking refuge near the entrance as voices cleared.

"This is absurd!" One dwarf shouted in protest amidst discussion. The young prince did not recognize whose words it belonged to. He held his breath, discerning for anyone that was familiar.

"You're right. It was merely a game shrouded by stray emotion."

Éla.

"You put yourself in danger, then coddled the mind of the king!"

Fìli heard enough to make his presence known and entered the chamber. "What is the meaning of this?!"

He stood tall, puffing his chest in attempt to show leadership. Upon grazing the room, the prince caught sight of Balin standing before Dain Ironfoot, the two opposing Falo and several dwarves he did not recognize at all. Closest to him, Éla was centered amongst them.

"Who is this lad?" One dwarf with a thick greying beard rose from his seat around the makeshift table that had been turned over from debris. Another, beard riddled with silver ornaments, parting in four, pointed a finger to the youngling.

"That, my dear friend is our dear prince, Fìli. First son of the Lady Dìs."

Balin stood from his seat, fumbling his way through rock and wood towards their heir. "Allow me to introduce Therl and Dorbir, council members from Ered Luin, and to the throne of Erebor."

"What brings you all here, if I may ask?" Fìli nodded to his advisor with acknowledgment, before eyeing the rest with grave distrust now that he saw clearly what the following entailed.

"Nothing which concerns you."

The dwarf prince felt a gaze like daggers, staring down the one responsible for careless remarks.

"Falo, if this is about a member of Thorin's Company, it does concern me."

Lifting his walking stick from under his arm, Fìli walked over to the group without support for the first time since the battle. Balin observed the growth of the young dwarf. In Thorin's absence, he did well to show authority. A new flame had been cast in his wake.

The council murmured amongst themselves.

"Very well." Falo grunted in distaste, shifting in his seat.

"You still have not answered my question." Fìli reminded. "What brings you all here without proper warning? Without notifying myself?"

Falo spat. "Warning? We are here by law!" He pointed at their female accomplice. "Miss Élarinya shall be put on trial in due time. For now, under Master Balin's...advisement, we are here to listen to her plea before casting judgement."

Fìli stole a worried glance from Balin, who shook his head in discouragement. Their attention diverted back to the council as the female stepped forward.

"If you wish to render judgement, then so be it. I will follow whatever decision you make."

"This is rather peculiar behaviour from you. What are you hiding?" Dorbir stroked his mighty beard, ornaments clanging by the odd shifts. "There must be reason which forced you to become so cooperative."

"Must there be?" Balin interjected. "No law has been broken. She is willing to cooperate. That should matter for something."

"In this case, yes." Dorbir returned his attention to the female dwarf. Curious to know more. "Your approach to your sentencing is rather calm for being ill prior to our arrival."

Éla inhaled a shaky breath to calm her nerves. She must remain steadfast. "What more do I have to lose?"

The question came as a surprise.

"If you wish to banish me, then I beg you, say so now so that I may take my leave."

Fìli slammed the table with his cane. "No banishment will befall you. In anyone here thinks otherwise, you will have to answer to Thorin. To me."

Stern eyes studied their faces, ever watching as grumbles and words were shared.

"Our prince seems unaccustomed to our laws." Another voice broke into the fray. Therl offered guidance. "Female dwarves are seldom seen outside our borders. Venturing into the beyond is heresy."

"And so, the law must be obeyed." Falo added. A curt nod was exchanged with Dain. "Our king lies on his death bed, only for an inexperienced prince who thinks he knows what he's doing yet knows nothing!"

Balin met up with the prince. "There was no crime. Only misunderstanding."

"Forgive me, Master Balin, but who is misunderstood?" Falo turned on his heel, beard escaping its place from the belt of attire, anger fueled by the continued discussion. Balin saw that his mind had already been made. "I speak on behalf of the council from the Iron Hills and all of Durin's Folk when I pass judgement that this female poisoned the mind of our king from this venture!"

"What are you suggesting?" Balin asked, defeated.

Fìli seethed through clenched teeth. Knuckled growing white as he held his tongue.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Falo." Therl objected. "We will collect every facet."

"What does our prince say?" Dain took charge of the debate. "You were there with Balin on this quest. Was Thorin of ill mind?"

All eyes turned to Fìli. He glanced over to Éla, who's gaze had fallen. Whether it was from respect or shame, he could not tell. The dwarf was uncertain in his words, as he did not want to cause more harm to a friend, and yet he riddled his brain for any clues as to how much was shared with this lot about their quest to reclaim Erebor. A quest which the other six kingdoms refused to take part.

Falo bellowed a laugh when the prince wouldn't surrender an answer. "We have what we need. What else is there to know? Forsaking laws and bedding her king out of wedlock is punishment of the highest degree."

"That is not true!" Fìli yelled. "They were courting!"

There it was.

Balin began to panic as Falo stated his claims. "If I may-"

"Your words are useless, Lord Balin."

Fìli rose in anger, yielding everyone's focus towards him. "They were courting." He spoke more calmly. "Thorin was under no spell. My uncle was of sound mind!"

Scrutinized stares studied the prince for any sign of forgery as Falo strutted towards Éla, boots heavily clanging in the empty hall. He was so close in proximity, glaring through bushy eyebrows. The dwarf's anger over these accusations nearly forced her to step back. Nearly. Whatever it was, her legs refused to move, standing motionless like a statue.

"What sorcery have you conjured for thirteen dwarves to accept your services beyond the halls from which you were meant to serve?" Falo meant to insult. She saw that now.

"Forgive me if I may, but I have been absent from Ered Luin for nearly two years. My services have since been offered to aid the venture of the Company of Thorin Oakenshield." Éla finally stepped back.

"This...courtship. What became of it?" Falo's face lit up under the candlelight. Eyes furious like a dragon's, beard distraught like the very dilemma they were now in.

Dwarves were a private race. Due to their extended lifespans, courting a partner could take years to decades before a pair's closest relatives found out about the news. So naturally, Falo made it a point to ask. He could not find truth in the prince's claim.

Those present waited eagerly, yet Éla's response was hesitant. Private. That was where the line of questioning should've been drawn. Had it been anyone else, the issue would most likely have been dropped. But this was Thorin, their king.

Falo's breathing increased heavily. The rage in his eyes was clear – his mind was already made whether the others present agreed or not. She could see from the border of her vision, his upper torso tense the longer she held his gaze. His patience tested as no further answer was surrendered.

"This freedom of speech which you've adopted and to withhold information will not serve you well here. Nor the place you'll end up." Falo seethed.

Éla broke the stare, she grew tired and afraid, wanting this to end. "Where might that be, my lord? You attempt to strip me of everything when there is nothing left to take but my life."

"Your influence is a sickness."

"Perhaps it is yours."

No sooner had the words escaped her without a second thought, she blinked twice before finding herself flattened against the cold stone floor. A prickling pain seared across her cheek. The councilor had backhanded her, hard.

"You will know your place, wretch." He spat his words in disgust that a female would talk back in such an undignified manner.

Fìli was so stunned by what had occurred before him he almost forgot his legs weren't planted in place. When he attempted to move to offer aid, he was stopped by Balin whose worried expression cautioned the young prince not to intervene despite the random act of violence.

"Falo." Dain stood, his aura encased with as much anger as his councilor. The latter did not notice as his focus was solely on the accused.

"As for punishment? Exile." The dwarf lord knelt down, pulling Éla to her feet by a forearm. Her face burning from the swat. She stumbled over her dress as Falo tossed her towards the table, colliding with it.

"Falo!"

The dwarf craned his thick neck towards the lord of Iron Hills, their focus shifting to another. He grunted in defiance, but respectfully turned to face the prince like everyone else. Much to his surprise, the dwarf prince had his back turned to them. Seeing just past the prince's head, the room fell in whispers for in the entrance to their hidden realm, stood two shadows approaching with heavy steps. Falo faltered as he backed up in surprise by those who dared interfere with such a secretive meeting.

Éla shifted her weight on the table, propping up an a arm in support as she followed their mute speech. Shock crossed her face as the two additions stepped further into the dim light. Confusion and relief merged within Fìli as he became aware of the presence lurking from behind.

"Uncle..."

The room fell utterly silent for Thorin, son of Thrain, King Under the Mountain, had entered, with Kìli right behind.