Author's Note: I own nothing.
44 Rumor
The dwarves were not the only ones searching for the wayward Hobbit. When word broke that the Arkenstone thief was missing, last heard on Raven Hill by one of the Princes of Erebor, Thranduil sent a few of his best trackers to search her out, with instruction to find her before the dwarves did. The elven king had grown rather fond of the little Halfling and he did not want to see what became of her if the dwarves found her first. He did not trust Thorin son of Thrain, though if the rumors were true he may not have to worry about Thorin much longer. Word around the camps was he was dying, may already be dead from injuries he'd sustained in the fight with Azog.
His nephew and heir had been the one to slay the pale orc, and if they met Thranduil would have to commend the boy who may soon be King Under the Mountain. He'd sent one of the company, Thranduil had never bothered to learn all their names, to seek out Mithrandir. They wished him to take a look at the gold before anyone else fully entered the mountain, to see if the taint the dragon had left behind could be removed before anyone else fell to it. Thranduil privately thought it was ridiculous to blame the dragon for the long streak of madness that ran through the line of Durin but said nothing. He had more pressing concerns. For the first time in many of their lives his trackers had come back empty handed. The Hobbit had not been found, two days after the battle and the snow was beginning to fall. If she was not found soon, she would not be found alive.
As night fell the second day after the battle someone came to his tent. Thranduil knew Beorn the skin changer by reputation though they had not met personally. He was led by Bard who looked concerned.
"We need to speak to you." He said and Thranduil nodded slightly allowing both men entrance to the tent. He liked Bard much better than the old Master of Lake Town. He was much more level headed and cared less about gold and more about the welfare of his people. He would make a good King of Dale when it was rebuilt. The skin changer glanced around before shrugging off the cloak he'd worn against the chill and apparently against prying eyes as well for under the cloak he held the Hobbit cradled to his chest. She was unconscious, her face a little bloody. Thranduil stepped forward to inspect her injury. She had a cut right at her hairline surrounded by an impressive bruise. She'd been struck hard by something.
"How did you find her when my men could not?" He asked gesturing for Beorn to lay her down on one of the cushioned chairs here, more like small couches for her. Bard frowned.
"She can vanish into thin air. I know not how. She was awake when we found her." He shook his head. "Dazed and slightly confused but awake. She lost consciousness on our way back here. I did not want to trust her to the dwarves after what happened on the ramparts." Bard explained. Beorn grunted slightly frowning down at the Hobbit as Thranduil leaned over her. His wife had always been better at healing. He hoped her spirit would guide him here as he worked to heal this wound, he had not done something like this in years. Bella groaned bright brown eyes blinking up at them with a frown.
"What happened?" She asked rubbing her head, a small scar just visible at her hairline. Before any of them could answer one of the guards called from outside.
"My King, there is word from the Dwarven camp. The King Under the Mountain has taken a turn for the worse. They do not expect him to survive the night." The guard called in Sindarin and a small gasp from the Hobbit told Thranduil she'd understood every word. She buried her head in her hands and sobbed as Thranduil pulled himself to his full height. He understood this situation better than she did, blinded as she no doubt was by grief, cast out by her Soul Singer only for him to die before they could reconcile, if that had ever been possible. He stepped to the door and motioned the guard who'd spoken inside.
"Gather four of my fastest riders and five horses. Tell no one of your gathering nor your intentions. I want no one to know that anyone has left." The guard nodded and rushed away. Thranduil turned to Bella. "You must leave tonight little one." He said this in common for the benefit of Bard and Beorn. He kept going before anyone else could speak. "If he dies without rescinding your banishment it will stand as his last act. No one, not even his nephews will be able to undo it without calling everything he had done no matter how heroic into question."
"Thorin is dying?" Bard asked quietly, glancing at Bella who had not moved but seemed to sob harder at that. Thranduil nodded.
"As I promised you when you gave us the Arkenstone, my riders will take you wherever it is you wish to go. They will take you the whole way and not return until they are assured you are safe." Thranduil promised as Beorn picked Bella up as though she was a child. She sobbed into his chest.
"We can make for my house Little Bunny you will be safe there until you wish to move on." He offered but she was lost to her grief. Bard nodded holding out Beorn's cloak to him as the guard returned with word the riders had been gathered. Thranduil laid a hand on Bella's shoulder.
"I hope we meet again someday under better circumstances Elf Friend." He said and nodded. Beorn swung on his cloak and followed the guard out of the tent, Bella once more hidden under his cloak. They vanished into the night and Bard shook his head.
"Why do I feel our troubles are just beginning?" He asked as Thranduil stepped over to the side board and poured two glasses of wine offering one to Bard who accepted without comment.
"Because you are a smarter man than most. There will be political upheaval if Thorin dies. His nephew is inexperienced but next in line for the throne. I hope he proves more capable than his forebears." Thranduil said sipping his wine as he and Bard stood at the door of the tent watching the snow begin to fall.