Thank you everyone who is reading and a special thanks to Oakensheild's Star who is kindly betaing this story as well as my reviewers, MissCallaLilly and thewolf74. I hope that you all continue to enjoy this story. I've had very little response and am wondering who really is reading so please let me know even if it's just a "me"…
So please sit back, enjoy and leave a review!
Thanks, Taernith
C3
Thranduil had seen many kings come and go, not only from the kingdoms of men, but also from those of the dwarves. Most blended together, insignificant in their words and deeds. Their purpose little more than to carry on a bloodline and care for an already wealthy and established kingdom.
He had seen frivolous rulers who cared little for their people and lands, squandering the wealth and prosperity of their kingdoms for personal gratification. Every now and then, an exception to the rule appeared and most often in the most unusual places. Thorin Oakenshield and Bard the Dragon slayer were exceptions Thranduil hadn't seen coming.
The bowman had succeeded in his ventures where his forefathers had failed. He had slew the dragon, Dale was almost completely rebuilt and was once again prospering as one of the major trading posts of the east.
Thorin had made true on his promises, recompense had been given to the people of Laketown and the Lonely Mountain's wealth in gold and merchandise had helped the surrounding areas to flourish. It seemed as if the dragon sickness had passed from the king under the mountain and there were no signs of it in his heirs.
Now Thorin had sent out requests for ambassadors from Dale, Esgaroth and the Woodland Realm to provide council and a source of constant communication with his closest allies. There had been a time before, when ambassadors, craftsmen and merchants from other races had resided in the halls of Erebor, before Thrór had succumbed to mayhem and madness.
Times had changed in the Greenwood since then. Dwarves had lost the trust of elves and so too had elves lost the trust of dwarves. The Greenwood was now a dangerous causeway for any not prepared to treat with the elven king and even with the reparations made to Thranduil from the king under the mountain, relationships were tense.
Thranduil saw the importance of an ambassador with the walls of Erebor. Not only as a way to maintain peace and alliance between the two races, but also as a way to keep tabs on what was happening within the mountain.
He wrapped his long fingers around the goblet close to his right hand and sipped the rich red wine within. The problem was not whether or not to send an ambassador, but whom to send. It was a lot for any elf to be expected to live encased in stone and without trust in their host, it would be even harder.
In another time, Thranduil would have sent his own son, at least for a short while, but as it stood, Legolas not only held little trust for the dwarves of Erebor, but also contempt that was unbecoming of a prince.
No, Legolas was far better off journeying to the Dunedain and waiting on the maturity of a different king yet to come in his inheritance. Tauriel was the best choice but instead of coming backing to Thranduil when she left Dale without explanation, she had taken to wandering the west and communicating with no one.
His pride had not allowed him to call her back to him, no matter how he felt on the matter, though now Thranduil had a good reason. The problem was, he had expected communication from Tauriel by now or if not the old captain of his guard, at least his son if Legolas had delivered his summons.
"My king," Lord Círon approached his throne bowing low before stopping. "You wished to see me?"
"I need you to go to Erebor as acting ambassador, until such a time as your permanent replacement arrives." Thranduil addressed him.
Lord Círon had a long standing advisor, someone whose opinions had always been in line with what was best for the kingdom. It was his loyalty that had brought that particular noble to his mind if not his somewhat abrasive attitude. If the dwarves could work with Lord Círon then perhaps there was hope for their races continued cooperation.
"My king, if I may be so bold, have I done something to displease you and cause this banishment?" The tall elf's normally stoic face morphed into shock and then horror.
"You have not earned any displeasure. I call on you for this task, until the one I believe is best suited to arrive. You give good counsel and hold the values and needs of this realm above all else, so for now I send you to Erebor and expect you to continue to please me with your work there."
Thranduil sipped his drink.
"Now, I am sure that there is much you will need to prepare, so you may take your leave. The guard I will send with you shall escort you in the morning. If there is anything pressing that you need, speak with Captain Gwaedhon, he shall see to it you are properly equipped."
"As you wish my king."
Still looking bewildered, Lord Círon looked to the ground and backed slowly to the edge of the dais, before moving swiftly away. There was still little love for dwarves among his people, not that he could blame them, he didn't like them any better.
The line of Durin had taken much he found valuable, for years they had held gems that were an heirloom of his family line. They had brought death and destruction to his people and stole away the affections of his onetime ward and captain of the guard. Yes, Tauriel's arrival could not come soon enough.
o0o
Sada Firebeard was tired, damp and frustrated. She had left Erebor with the intention of finding a she-elf and had so far been attacked by dwarves, men and an assortment of foul looking orcs. She had only survived her journey so far by the good graces of her soon to be mother in law, an old grey wizard and an elven prince who had become an unwelcome addition to their party.
Just when she had given up on the she-elf she was looking for, she found her, only to find she was not what she should be but a mercenary who was traveling with them not to return to the Lonely Mountain, but because the king who had banished her called her back to his realm.
There was nothing particularly special about the she-elf mercenary either, at least not what she had come to expect after the words Kili had used to describe her. In comparison to the prince of Mirkwood and the lord and ladies of Rivendell, the most remarkable thing about her was her fire red hair, how cold her green eyes were and the way she seemed more on guard than was warranted for an elf who had lived in Rivendell.
Their days had taken a monotonous turn. Tauriel would rise early and ride ahead, Aranel would clean up their encampment and ride behind, the pair of elves always in communication with each other through a pair of falcons that could often be seen flying overhead.
At noon time they would regroup and one of the elves would switch positions with Gandalf and their journey home continued in the same vein until evening. Gandalf was good at keeping up a general stream of chatter as was Aranel, who quizzed them on what life was like in Erebor in comparison to Ered Luin where as Tauriel spoke little with her companions but watched them, especially Dis, with an intensity that made her silence strange and tense.
The High Pass was treacherous enough that they had spent the last two days trudging on foot along the narrow ledges that served as the path, leading their mounts and the pack animal behind them.
Three or four days, Gandalf had said, no more than five but the going had been slow as the fog and mist hadn't let up yet. The damp and cold was so bad that by the second evening Sada found herself peeling out of her chain mail to oil away the rust and grime.
They built no fire at night, at Tauriel's insistence and after the first night exposed on the mountain ledge their bedrolls had been damp ever since and she swore she would most likely never be dry again.
Sada Firebeard was tired. She was tired of the weather, she was tired of being hunted like an animal, she was tired of Gandalf and Aranel's constant optimism, Dis' brooding but mostly of all she was tired of the presence and silence of Tauriel.
How many days would go by before the watching turned into talking? How long before she would ask about the friends she had once had amongst the dwarves of Erebor? How long before Dis decided to tell the she-elf that Kili still lived?
"Do you know who hunts you or why?" Tauriel moved to take her pony from her.
"I am perfectly capable of caring for my own mount!" Sada snapped, marching past her and tugging her pony with her to the tie line.
"I did not mean to insinuate that you are incapable. I meant to help why we discussed who exactly it is that means to kill you."
The pointy-eared mercenary followed her and began unbuckling the breastplate and cinches as she tied her pony up.
"Why exactly do you care who wants me dead?" She pulled the saddle off toward her, resting it on its pommel a couple of feet away.
"I once had friends in Erebor and I would not allow them to know the loss of a loved one if I have it in my power to do so."
The elf paused in the action of rubbing the pony down and looked her straight in the eye. Sada couldn't help but pause, the expression on her face was filled with a level of raw emotion that she never expected and all she seemed capable of doing was standing and absorbing it.
"You still believe that you are not without friends within the lonely mountain?" It was Dis who finally spoke.
"If they count me as friend still, I would not know, much was lost in the days after the battle at the gates of Erebor but they have not lost my friendship, nor will they ever." Tauriel shook her head. "Tell me or don't, information may or may not be helpful but it could make a difference. Discuss it amongst yourselves, I will be on watch."
With those words said and a last pat given to the back of the pony, the elf disappeared into the darkness to take watch as she had done every night.
"I do not know what to make of her." Sada grumbled to Dis.
"Nothing good can come for him if she returns to Erebor. There is no forward path for an elf and a dwarf." Dis nodded.
"Still she loves him."
"Love has a nasty way of turning sour in the face of too many impediments." The elder dwarrowdam cautioned. "You and Fili got lucky, what your family lacks in old connections your father made up for as the wealthy and prestigious leader of a large battle clan. Tauriel is an elf and not her wealth, were she to have any, her prowess in battle or love can help them. The line of Durin will not be tainted thusly."
o0o
"Are all dwarves like these two?" Aranel's voice startled Tauriel.
Her watch had been over for a couple of hours but weariness hadn't been her friend so she had taken up position by her horse and let memory take her. At some point not only had she become comfortable leaning against her chestnut mare but the mare had begun leaning on her in turn as she dozed back off. Aranel's voice made the mare wake and shift against her.
"Easy Amrâlimê." Tauriel soothed, running her hand down the warm neck.
The mare snorted her displeasure but settled again. She was too smart for her own good but then most horses from Rohan were, descended from the Meares as they were.
"Is it time to move on already?" Tauriel turned to her friend. The dawn had not yet begun to lighten the clouds that gave them continual cover even if it had fostered a feeling of bleakness over the last few days.
"They're restless but not yet awake." She shook her head.
"So, are they?"
"Are who?" Tauriel frowned at the younger elleth.
"Dwarves!" Aranel sounded exasperated.
She could hardly blame her friend for her frustration. She was preoccupied at best, vigilant for attack at the cost of a lack of attention to her companions. Dwarves, bloody maddening dwarves, they occupied most of her thoughts, awake or asleep and now she was being asked to speak about dwarves.
Tauriel couldn't however fault Aranel's curiosity, dwarves had been a curiosity to her too, in the beginning, before her life had gotten intertwined with theirs. She had been sheltered in her woods the way that Aranel had been sheltered in Imladris and she knew what it was like to discover that what she had been brought up to believe was not exactly the way things were.
"Yes," She took a deep breath. "And no, not at all."
Where did she start to explain what she had learned about the dwarves of Erebor before and after the battle? They were stubborn and coarse, unwilling to listen to reason, fierce and loyal to a fault, they were loud and violent and gentile.
They came in all shapes and sizes, they were proud of each other almost as much as their beards and their mountains. Before she knew it she started talking about the individual personalities she had met, the different things she had experienced from the conversations on the healing arts with Óin, the way that Bofur had made her laugh, the serious nature of the crown prince of Erebor and his love for his brother and the way the proud men of Lord Dain's army had thrown her out of Erebor without so much as a allowing her to pick up her own belongings.
"They meant a lot to you?"
"Some more than others."
Tauriel found herself smiling as an image of Kili momentarily popping into her head. Not thinking about him was almost as hard as thinking about him. She turned away from her friend before her expression could give her away.
"Come on, we shall saddle the horses. Let's be away from these mountains before the goblins decide we are far game."
Aranel gave her a nod and quietly and quickly set about grooming and tacking the animals. Every few moments one or the other would pause, survey what could be seen around them and slip quietly back into their task.
It was a comfortable silence they slipped into as they tightened the last girth and began the process of putting grain in nose bags and giving them out. It didn't take them long to get the animals ready for the day or for the sun to start creeping up the horizon and lightening the sky.
The dwarves woke quickly and the wizard reappeared from his night time wondering. He quickly set about slicing bread and cheese and handing it out as had become his habit in the mornings since they had left Imladris.
Tauriel took her meal and watched the others grab their things as she removed the nose bag off her mare, tightened the girth one last time before setting her hawk on the cantle and turning back to the others.
"I'll find a spot for an extended rest at the base of the mountain. If you have need of me, send for me."
She quickly took up her reins and headed down the path, ignoring the eyes on the back of her neck as she left. It was a relief to descend the mountain. It seemed as if the minute they left the side of the mountain the damp and chill disappeared with the fog.
It would take a week of riding to take them to the crossing at the old ford of the Anduin and another day or two to get to the edge of the Mirkwood. Another two days to get to the halls of king Thranduil and then she would be free of the hostility of the dwarves she was guarding. She would arrange a proper escort for them to Erebor and would consider her debts paid, if such a debt could ever be paid in full.
Tauriel had found a nice little grove near the base of the mountain within which was a small stream that had to be a contributory to the Anduin. They would take the remainder of the day to let the horses and ponies graze, hunt a little, wash and rest.
They would have little cover for the first couple of days and she wanted to push forward as much as those in her party could handle. The dwarves had gone to the stream and Aranel had left her to watch over the animals while she slipped silently into the woods to hunt.
"Ahead or behind?"
Mithrandir paused beside where she had chosen to stand watch over the place they had chosen to let the hobbled animals graze.
"Whichever suits your fancy, as always Mithrandir." She replied not taking her eyes off the area around their camp.
"As always that is not what I asked." He pulled his pipe out of one of the pouches tied to his belt. He quickly went about the business of preparing and lighting it, taking a couple of deep draws and letting the smoke drift around them.
"If you have a question then ask it plainly wizard. I have no time for word play." She couldn't help but bristle.
"What is more important, living in the past or looking towards a new future?" He asked, clicking the end of his pipe against his teeth.
Tauriel turned and glared at him, a scathing retort on the tip of her tongue.
"I have found that you must move ahead to find what you seek but if you never look behind, you might miss what you were looking for in the first place."
"What is it you think you know wizard?" She snapped.
"That things are never nearly as black and white as we think they are." He smoked his pipe for a few more moments a twinkle in his blue eyes as he deliberately looked anywhere but at her.
"It will just take time for them to trust you."
"I am not looking to make more friends of dwarves. Nothing but heartache lies upon that path." Tauriel shook her head.
"You speak as if you know of heartache." The wizard said.
"Perhaps." She replied.
"You speak as though you would choose to forget that you held silent vigil through the long days and nights under the mountain and upon the broken battlements of a lost city in the days after the battle." Gandalf looked at her, his blue eyes fathomless and full of unknown knowledge.
"I choose to remember that which came before the long already lost fight against death." The words came out of her mouth a breathy whisper.
An angry roar broke the peace surrounding them. The battle cry of a dwarven clan declared that Clan Firebeard was mighty and bloodthirsty as the sound of steel against steel rang out. Tauriel was already on the move, bow in hand and arrow notched as the wizard ran behind her.
Dwarves, an attachment of half a dozen, most likely a scouting party surrounded the two dwarven women at the banks of the stream. Dis held a wicked curved blade in one hand not even trying to hide her nakedness, her lips curled back showing her teeth in a snarl as Sada leapt forward and engaged her enemy in just her tunic, red hair dark with water and plastered to her back as she moved away from the Princess.
Two arrows dropped two of the strange dwarves, Sada finished off a third with her double sided axe as Dis' blade was flung across the clearing and embedded itself in the neck of a dwarf about to stab the younger female in the back.
The fifth attacker was mowed down by Tauriel's blades as the final dwarf turned to run only to be dropped by an arrow belonging to Aranel who had stepped out of the woods so silently as not to be noticed. The whole thing was over in moments and the air once again cleared.
"I shall ready the horses." Gandalf said turning with haste toward where the beasts had been hobbled.
"I'll help you."
Aranel stooped to pick up the selection of field dressed birds and small game she had dropped at her feet before hurrying after the wizard. Tauriel knelt next to one of the corpses, pulling her arrow from his neck as she looked at his weapons and armor.
Not a dwarf of Erebor, she was reasonably sure nor one from the Blue Mountains. Sada looked dispassionately down her nose at the same dwarf as Dis collected her blade and her clothing.
"Ironfeet." Sada said.
"From the Iron Hills but not sworn to Dain. They pay Dain for use of their lands but hold allegiance to whomever has the largest purse." Dis agreed.
"Ironfeet, Bloodfists and Blackblades." Sada ground out of clenched teeth.
"Mercenary clans everyone."
The Princess tugged her undergarments on and began to work her way into her dress as Tauriel gathered the last two arrows and Sada began to dress herself as well.
"So in truth you do not know who is hunting you?" Tauriel turned toward them as she cleaned the arrowheads and shafts of blood and matter.
"Could be anyone with a daughter who would be a suitable match for Fili or Dain trying to find a way to help his own line inherit Erebor." Dis agreed.
"An easy enough explanation if it weren't for the company of men that attacked me before I crossed the Anduin near Lothlórien," Sada agreed. "I don't know of many men who would get mixed up in dwarven politics."
"The orc pack that your prince was hunting when he came across us I believe to be a coincidence, too small and disheveled to have any real purpose but mayhem." Dis twisted her dark hair into a braid and the three women stood looking at each other.
"There is never coincidence in darkness," Tauriel frowned "come, we must away from this place!"
Boe i 'waen - I must go
Galu - Good Luck
Amrâlimê - Khuzdul - My Love