Fíli joins the twins the next morning, bruised and aching after their few hours in the training ring sparring together. It had given him some valuable insights into fighting multiple taller opponents, though Thorin's expression had been disapproving when he found them. Fíli had spent most of the evening studiously avoiding his companions and slipped away as soon as he had eaten breakfast. The twins are also remarkably light hearted, as far as he understands it, and the time with them has helped to take his mind off the questions raised by Thor's changed demeanour and identity.

Once again the pair help him onto the roof and they settle in for the morning. It starts off slowly, so much so that Fíli regrets coming up here at all. Even Thorin seems frustrated by the fact that they are covering much the same ground as they had the previous day and Frerin's answers to the questions asked of him by the Men are increasingly clipped and sharp.

"This is all well and good," surprisingly it is Thranduil who interrupts. "We established yesterday that the dwarves failed miserably to protect the one thing entrusted to them. As much fun as it is to remind them of the absolute disaster they have allowed to transpire, perhaps we would be better served deciding what must be done about it."

There is some muttering from the gathered dwarrow about that, and Fíli hears the twins snigger. He glares down at them, though there is nothing that he can say on the matter.

"We were, in fact, 'doing something about it' before we were accosted by the Lord of Rivendell's sons," Thorin replies. He is dressed as regally as he has been for the last few days and Fíli cannot think of him as Thor in these clothes with those beads of mithril and sapphire in his hair. "We would currently be deciding which pass to take through the Misty Mountains in order to find his trail had our presence not been so firmly requested."

"That's hardly fair," Elrohir whispers. "we were the very image of polite and proper behaviour." Fíli rolls his eyes at them.

"We may not catch up to him now, at any rate," Thorin continues.

"That may not be the case," Gandalf muses. Thorin makes a questioning noise.

"With the patrols sent out by Lord Frerin and the ravens who will have informed all of Moria's friends and allies of this treachery there has been constant traffic on all routes through the Misty Mountains. It will have forced our thief into hiding lest he draw even more attention to himself." Elrond explains. "He will not have been able to resume his journey until the paths cleared."

"The difficulty will still come in working out which direction he went," Thorin says. "There was some debate about which direction he would take and whether he would go Isengard by a more roundabout route so as to avoid Lothlorien and the easy reach of Lord Elrond's patrols since he has long desired the Jewel for himself, or whether he will go to Barad-Dûr having allied himself with Sauron. We know that until the ring is destroyed his shade lingers, and we know there is some speculation that the Jewel could aid him enough to find the thing and return to power."

"There is, perhaps, some information it may be worth taking into consideration," Thranduil says, his toner sharper than his bored seeming examination of his nails would suggest it should be. "For some time something foul has been gathering at Dol Guldur."

"I hardly think the difficulties faced by the Greenwood are relevant," Frerin scoffs, "you've turned a blind eye to that fortress for centuries."

"My father asked for help," one of the king's party hisses, "his request was rejected without a hint of consideration."

"And he came so rapidly to our aid when Smaug drove out our colony in Erebor!" Frerin snarls.

"Perhaps if they had given the aid we asked for when we first noticed the problem at Dol Guldur my father would have been more receptive to your plight!" The younger, although how one really knows that an elf is younger Fíli cannot be certain, elf stands.

"Our lack of aid aside, Thranduil allowed the senseless deaths of 'dams and children! Refugees picked off on the road by orcs before our troops could reach them, starving and dying of their injuries before the relief wagons could find them!" Frerin roars as he gets to his feet. Behind him, his people are also getting out of their seats and reaching for weapons they do not have with them. "Meaningless deaths that didn't need to happen because your pride was wounded!"

"Perhaps a recess for lunch is in order," Gandalf suggests, obviously feeling that the matter has gotten out of hand and needing to take back what control he can.

"No," Thranduil holds up his hand. "The history between Durin's folk and myself aside, I still believe that the information will be useful. Over the course of the last few decades a figure in white has been seen sporadically entering the fortress. None of my people have ever been able to get close enough to clearly identify him and we had believed it to be a wraith of some kind conjured by the necromancer rumoured to dwell there. Certainly, such dark magics would draw fell creatures of all kinds to it and would begin to drain the life from my realm. It is not something that I have wilfully ignored, I simply lack the power and numbers to deal with a necromancer alone." There are some mutters at that, even as the dwarves and younger elf return to their seats. "I was interested, however, to note that your people have found a way to deal with the dragon."

"What?" Thorin turns an angry glare on Frerin. "Why was I not informed of this?"

"We haven't," Frerin replies. "In truth there is no way into that mountain without walking straight into the dragon's waiting jaws. You know that as well as I." The others miss it, but Fíli sees Thorin shift uncomfortably. "I have a suspicion, however, although it made little sense when it was first brought to my attention. A caravan on the way back from the Iron Hills reported encountering a tribe of Stonefoots. We assumed they were lost or wandering, but what if they were headed to Erebor?"

"Smaug would eat them as cheerfully as he would any Longbeard or Broadbeam," Thorin shakes his head.

"Perhaps," Frerin concedes, "perhaps not. If they've been seen coming and going-"

"Hunting," the elf prince cuts in.

"Hunting," Frerin nods, "perhaps they've been feeding Smaug enough to keep him happy. They are dragon worshipers." There's a collective shudder. "This does not, however, mean our thief will go in that direction, if anything he will avoid it. The Jewel carries great meaning for all dwarrow, not just Durin's folk. It would be easier for him to head south and take the Gap of Rohan than the high or low passes through the mountains.

"We have patrols there, Lord Frerin," one of the blond men says, "and we are watching Isengard as well. He may be able to use the power of his voice on us, but those agents who have managed to get close enough say that the fortress has been abandoned."

"They will only see what he wishes them to see," Gandalf shakes his head. "Still, if it is patrolled heavily enough our thief will be forced to find an alternative route and, I confess, this discussion of a dark presence and a figure in white visiting it regularly has me concerned. Whether we go to Isengard by the Gap of Rohan or take the low pass and travel down the east side of the Misty Mountains the time it will take is not much different."

"About a week or ten days," Nori cuts in, "if you have ponies sure enough of foot. Taking the low pass takes us north, we'll end up turning back south as soon as we make it to the other side." Gandalf hums.

"Be that as it may, I would rather lose the time and pass by Dol Guldur to see if there is any trace of the Jewel than head straight to Isengard and give him the chance to ally himself with this mysterious necromancer." Gandalf's gaze becomes flinty. "It surprises me, however, that I am only now hearing about this new evil." Thranduil's lips twist.

"I mentioned his presence to Saruman and Lord Elrond some time ago."

"The White Wizard assured me the matter was being dealt with," Elrond confesses. "I took him at his word. I had no reason not to."

"I wanted to go and investigate anyway," Elladan whispers. "Ada told us to stay out of it." He falls silent again when Elrohir kicks him, but Fíli sees Elrond's eyes turn in their direction and he almost doesn't dare to breathe while he waits for the elf lord's gaze to turn away.

"The direction we take can be decided when we leave," Thorin declares, "we will not have to change direction for some days once we have left this place."

"Will you take additional warriors with you?" Frerin asks. "I have a number with me and would be able to travel with a far smaller contingent in company with our friends from Rohan."

"Too many others will slow us down." Thorin shakes his head. "I will take my original party; Dwalin, Nori, Ori, Balin and my apprentice," there is a barely noticeable pause as Thorin says it, as though he is reconsidering words or just the decision to take Fíli with him. "Gandalf, naturally, will join us."

"The hobbit, Bilba Baggins, will also join us," Gandalf informs them. There is general outcry. "She has already proven herself a flight risk," the wizard points out. "I want her where I can keep an eye on her. This treaty is too important to risk her not turning up on time."

"She could be killed during this venture," Frerin points out. "I will have to insist on an escort if you take her. I gave Gerontius my word I would ensure his granddaughter's safety outside of the Shire."

"Very well," Thorin inclines his head, "but no more than five."

"My daughter, Adra, will be one of them," Frerin adds.

"She is not of age," Thorin objects. "Bora is as like to murder us both if you send her along."

"Which is why Bofur, Bifur and Bombur will be with her," Frerin replies. "The four of them were to have been Miss Baggins' escort in any case." Thorin makes an irritated noise.

"My son, Legolas, will also accompany you," Thranduil says. "You will need him in order to get anywhere near Dol Guldur."

The younger elf in question obviously objects, if his hissed words in elvish are anything to go by (although Fíli cannot tell one elvish dialect from another). Elrohir snickers as father and son argue back and forth. It reminds Fíli of his argument with Thor during the incident with the trolls and he finds himself sympathising with Legolas.

"What are they saying?" He hisses. Thorin seems content to let it play out between father and son, leaning back in his chair with an amused smirk on his face and, much to Fíli's surprise, it looks like he understands every word being said.

"Legolas is objecting, obviously," Elladan whispers in reply. "He is actually being far more unkind than I had believed him capable." His twin nods, arching an eyebrow at a particularly vehement sounding utterance. "He is insisting that all dwarves are lazy, uncouth, foul of mouth and temper, as like to cut an ally's throat as an enemy's, slow of wit, prejudiced, secretive, suspicious and so and so forth. He has clearly had little experience of your people."

"We have visited the Stewards of Moria for centuries," Elrohir elaborates, "we actually find you rather entertaining. Thranduil agrees with his son, but then who else would Legolas have heard it from? They rarely leave their wood." He sighs. "A pity really, when he isn't being an utter prig Legolas is actually very entertaining. Ah."

"What?" Fíli hisses.

"Your father thought he heard someone," another voice says and an elf with hair that shines like sunlight appears over the edge of the roof. "I told him my students would never be so foolish as to listen in on such an important event of such a delicate nature. I am most disappointed to find myself proved wrong, and more so to find you have somehow managed to corrupt the young dwarf."

"It was my idea," Fíli insists, but the twins shake their heads.

"You cannot deceive Glorfindel that way, mellon nin," Elrohir sighs. "He knows us better than even Mithrandir, and nearly as well as our father." The newcomer smirks and nods. "We were already listening when young Fíli happened upon us. We recognised his curiosity and felt it matched our own quite well. He has been the model co-conspirator."

"Not something I had thought to hear said of a dwarf, Glorfindel comments. "Come along, all three of you, Elrond has requested I take you to his study to await the end of the meeting and his pleasure." Fíli winces. "I will have Lindir ensure Thorin knows where you are to be found," he adds.

It makes Fíli feel a little better to know that even the twins, immortal beings who are centuries old, fear their father's ire to a degree.