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Acts of good will
The walk through the dark forest of Mirkwood was endlessly long. The air felt heavy and Eilin's fragile consciousness was faltering. All she could see was dried branches entwined to create a wooden web that dimmed the already faded sunlight of those heavy winter days. Trees were coming from every direction, even crisscrossing in the middle of the barely discernible path under their feet and the eerie quietness almost pained her ears. It was as if the thickness of the air was muting every sound. She didn't know if it was the magic of the forest that Thorin had spoken so much about, but it was disorienting her, confusing her senses. After a while she didn't know the way back to the enchanted lake even though the path they were on never diverged. She couldn't tell if they were going north or south or even were Erebor was approximately. She winced and inhaled deeply trying to clear the fog out of her brain. She got transfixed into the entwined secret path and a shade of fear run down her back. She felt a certainty that if the elves abandoned her and Thorin here, they'd die before they could find their way out. On that thought she turned around for the umpteenth time to check on him. He was following on foot, looking far less troubled than her.
"Are you alright?" her voice drew abnormally, as if the air itself was pulling it apart.
He looked up at her and smiled instantly. Apparently this forest didn't have the same effect on him. "I am, but you don't look so well," he said concerned.
"This forest feels heavy almost suffocating" -she shook her head- "it is also so warm, as if the cold is not passing through the thick canopy," she looked up to see any sign of the sky, but failed.
"Elven magic" -he turned to his captors- "can we hurry up with this menagerie? The magic of your boss is falling heavy on her." This was the first time since they were captured she heard his voice becoming seriously authoritative.
"That is why she was allowed to remain on her horse. She will be taken care off, worry not." The elf who was leading her animal replied without turning to him.
"I'll be alright," she forced a smile that made her lips feel numb.
Thorin looked at her uneasily while the elf that led him by the rope around his wrists pulled him to attention. Another forced smile was send back in order to reassure him and then she settled down again, more from the fear that she was going to soon faint. She didn't recollect how much longer they kept walking quietly through the deep foliage with her counting her breaths, but when her horse passed under a green archway that led them out into a deep ravine, she inhaled deeply and felt as if someone had just pulled her from underwater. She looked up and saw the clouds, felt the snow falling to her burning brow and shuddered with pleasure. She heard the angry flow of the forest river and saw the gates of Thranduil's halls awaiting for them, just over a stone viaduct that looked like dwarven architecture. It was as if nature suddenly came alive around them. She raised her hands and spread the soothing cold snow on her burning brow. The elves led them above the viaduct and upon reaching the gates of the elven realm she felt almost normal. The spell that this forest was under was certainly disorienting, possibly created so that no one could find the entrance to the elven halls. The gates looked like they were made out of tree roots intricately entwined. They were led inside what looked like a wide cavern that led to a long hallway, made out of stone and tree roots. The elves continued their route until they came upon a junction of three walkways that were hovering above the ground. The elf that was holding her horse turned to her, "you have to dismount."
She alighted and immediately walked back to join Thorin, but an arrow was instantly pointed at her face. She yelped and froze still.
Thorin jerked so hard against his restraints that the rope broke around his wrists. No one saw what he did, or how quickly, but the elf pointing the arrow at Eilin, found himself on a rear naked choke. He gasped for air as the natural paleness of his face was instantly swapped with a blue hue caused by Thorin's suffocating deadlock. Every arrow available turned on him, but his voice echoed fearless in Thranduil's halls nonetheless, "no one points an arrow at her."
She cried and cupped her mouth, "Thorin no!"
Thorin's muscular forearm tightened and the elf coughed and spat trying to to free himself out of that deadly grip unsuccessfully.
"Let him go," one of the elves commanded Thorin.
His eyes turned coldly at the one who addressed him, "no one points an arrow at her, is that clear?" The elf that knelt in front of him sounded and looked on the verge of passing out. The gurgling noises he was making were enough to raise Eilin's hair.
"Thorin he didn't do anything stop! They are going to kill you!" She cried and tried to approach him, but an elf stopped her this time by his hand.
"Let Halfar go. Your dame shall not be harmed," the elf said quietly.
"please don't hurt him, please …please," she whispered breathless.
Thorin was looking around him with cold calculation. This was the first time she was seeing him in a confrontation of any kind and she was shaken by how fast his reactions had been, but above all at the absence of fear when he was threatened by instant death.
She almost fell down to her knees, "please Thorin, let him go... please!"
His eyes turned to her and instantly lost the dark cloud that had covered them in the heat of the moment when his body and brain became battle worthy, "Are you alright?" the deepness of his voice was the only part of him that betrayed he was on edge.
She nodded eagerly. "Yes yes, please let him go before they harm you."
Thorin hesitated for a few tense moments, but under Eilin's solid reassurance he relaxed his grip on the elf and drew back. His opponent fell to the ground panting for breath. Two of his comrades lifted him up and led him away quickly.
"Are we all alright now? Will this craziness stop?!" Eilin looked around at everybody that seemed trigger happy.
Thorin crossed his arms and looked around haughtily. The elf that took the lead after Thorin rendered Halfar powerless nodded. "The lady shall be escorted to the upper halls. The dwarf lord to the cells."
Just as they were all slowly settling down, this fired one of them up again. The most improbable of them all. Eilin felt her brows creasing and her heart filling with anger. "What? What do you mean the cells? Are you taking him prisoner?"
An elf approached Thorin carrying some heavy chains. He pointed at his hands. "You will follow without resistance, dwarf lord, right?"
"If she is not harmed, yes," Thorin replied calmly and offered his wrists once more. They twisted the chains around him a couple of times just to be on the safe side.
Eilin threw herself upon the elf that stood in her way and tried to grab Thorin. "No! I am not going anywhere without him! Take me down to the cells with him!"
"He is our prisoner. You are our guest. These are our orders my lady," the leader said coldly.
Thorin winced as they fastened the chain around his broad wrists. "Eilin listen to him. Follow them and I will be fine."
She tried to bypass the tall elf who kept her in place with great ease. "I am not leaving you Thorin, do you hear me? Stop this nonsense all of you! We didn't do anything. Whom did we bother? Why did you capture us?"
"The enchanted lake is for the enjoyment of the elves only my lady. Outsiders that dare a trip there, shall be arrested by orders of our King."
She felt her body deflating. "Is this about that damned lake? Let us go and we promise we won't come back ever again. Right Thorin?" She searched his eyes for support.
He offered her a fleeting smile. "Eilin it's a bit more complicated than that."
"They said it's because of the lake, what do you mean saying that it's more complicated? Tell them we won't do it again. Tell them and they will let us go. Please Thorin," she looked at him beseechingly.
"Be a brave girl and follow the captain. Trust me to be okay. I have been through this several times in my life," this time his smirk was so reassuring it gave her pause.
She pulled back from the elf. "Why aren't you doing something to reassure them that this will never happen again? They will let us go then, won't you?" she looked up at the elf.
He raised a brow, but remained silent.
Her eyes returned keenly observant on Thorin, "You want us to be imprisoned? Help us, dispel their doubts for us, please!" She simply couldn't figure out what he was doing.
The fleeting shadow of craftiness in his eyes didn't go undetected by her. "Don't worry Eilin. You are not their prisoner. As for me...no elven prison is strong enough to hold me in it," he sounded mischievous.
The elves around him tensed and she frowned confused.
"Right gentlemen?" He looked up at them scornfully.
No one answered, but the leader addressed to Eilin, "this way my lady."
She put her feet down angrily and crossed her arms. "I am not going anywhere. Take me to the cells with him. I don't want to be your guest, I want to be your prisoner."
"Men gehyith" -Thorin's voice softened- "do this as a favour for me. Go with them."
Her eyes welled with tears and she felt her voice breaking, "I don't want to let you go."
"Go with them, I will see you soon," he tilted his head quietly trying to put her mind at rest.
She looked at the offered route and hesitated.
The elf holding Thorin's chains pulled him to the other walkway without waiting for them to resolve this through persuasion.
Eilin tried to bypass the elf again, but was restrained, "Thorin no!" She cried as fear gripped her stomach and twisted it painfully. He gave her a smile above his shoulder and the slyness she saw in it, confused her even more. Shouldn't he be as afraid as she was? As desperate to remain with her? Wasn't he worried to be led in prison? Logic told her that this was Thorin Oakenshield, a legendary dwarven warrior that was two hundred years old and had seen more battles than she has seen winters. His attitude had been perfectly controlled, If she excluded the moment were he almost choked to death an elf twice his size with an ease that gave her pause. "Release me! I have to be with him!" She cried at the elf that was holding her back.
"You will follow Rýngwen my lady," he said patiently.
Eilin looked behind to see a she-elf smiling down at her. "Good evening," she spoke with a melodic voice.
Eilin shook her head, "I am not coming with you."
"Please, follow me" -Rýngwen offered her hand- "your dwarf lord is going to be alright."
Eilin denied ardently. "No! How can he be alright? He's been led to prison."
"Your abode has been prepared by orders of the King my lady. Within these halls no prisoner gets harmed unless they are orcs. We are not out to harm you," Rýngwen smiled reassuringly.
Eilin rubbed her shoulders and looked at the tall warrior elf that raised his brow haughtily down at her and then left them. They remained alone upon a large tree root that looked wide enough to sustain any dwarven carriage. No one was around to stop her from running after Thorin. She looked wishfully at the corridor they led him through. Rýngwen apparently read her thoughts, "there is no need to follow him now. Come with me please. You must be weary from all this misadventure."
Eilin inhaled deeply. "I am afraid for him."
"No harm shall come to him," Rýngwen offered her hand once more, "come."
Eilin looked at the elegant hand and then at the twisting walkway he took. She remembered his plead to trust him, to play along. She had been caught up in a world she had never seen before up close and personal and she was terrified by everything around her, but his eyes had been calm. Almost too calculative and at times mischievous. This is a world he knew a lot about. A world he had provoked as a youth and had challenged as an adult. A world he didn't seem to fear. So maybe she should trust in his judgment and play along. At least until she could understand better what was going on. She looked at the silver headed beauty that still had her hand extended and gave her a very timid nod.
It was almost nightfall when Thorin was taken out of the innermost cells and got led to Thranduil's throne room. He had been expecting to be kept down there far longer. A tactic Thranduil always used to break the bravado of his prisoners, but apparently he had been mistaken. When he entered the wide hall he noticed that only he, the King and the elf that led him, were there.
Thorin stopped in front of Thranduil with an air of loftiness that rubbed the high elf the wrong way. "Chains? really?" He raised his hands and his brow.
"Well, you almost choked Halfar," Thranduil drummed his fingers on the arm of his throne and looked down at him haughtily.
"Well, he almost poked Eilin's eye out with that arrow," Thorin raised his brow and shifted on his leg.
Thranduil smiled stonily, "she was not going to be harmed and you know it."
"I don't trust elves," Thorin retorted sullenly.
Thranduil inhaled deeply and pursed his lips, "I told Gandalf to warn you about the enchanted lake."
"He did."
"Then you chose to overlook my warning," Thranduil looked mildly impressed.
"Of course. Why should I change a conditioning of years," Thorin flicked his shoulder.
"As rebellious as ever. Look where that landed you. In chains." Thranduil raised his brow.
"Do I look bothered?" Thorin rejoined flatly.
"Not at all. Actually you look as if you had planned this all the way through," Thranduil said and stood up.
Thorin noticed the Black Blade resting on Thranduil's thigh and then drew his eyes back up to him with clear boredom, "what a ridiculous suggestion."
"Is it?" The elven King walked down the steps of his elaborate throne and came close to him.
"Why would I want to be imprisoned in this dump? I've got halls several hundred times this size to rule" -Thorin's lip turned in a sly smile- "in two separate mountains and my people will be looking for me."
Thranduil's composure failed at that sentence, "that dwarven arrogance…"
"Angers you?" Thorin pushed.
Thranduil's jawline flexed, "could be possibly what will make the alliance between us impossible."
"That didn't sound so certain," Thorin looked up at him calmly.
Thranduil inhaled and signalled one of his guards that approached and gave him a rather heavy looking velvet pouch. Thorin looked at it indifferently, "this battle and the way our races fought for each other should make both of us uncertain, don't you think?"
Thorin twisted his lips testily, "first valid point since you opened your mouth."
Thranduil tilted his head majestically and showed him the pouch, "this has been confiscated from the saddle satchel of your horse."
"I have never seen it before," Thorin frowned confused.
"Do many people have access to your horse then?" Thranduil asked and opened up the pouch. Obviously he was not expecting to see these kind of contents, because he took a step back and his countenance flattered. A small gasp escaped his lips and his eyes sparkled with a long forgotten fire. His stony face lines broke for the first time in centuries. He looked down at Thorin with eyes that thundered in silence. Whatever was in that pouch had shaken the elven King to his core.
"No one that I know off," Thorin remained impassive.
"Do you know what is in here?" Thranduil spoke in a hushed tone.
"No clue," Thorin pressed his lips casually.
"Shall I tell you?"
Thorin flicked his shoulders, "go ahead."
"The White Gems," Thranduil's self-certainty wavered once more even at the name of the long coveted gems of his wife. His long fingers twitched possessively around them. It looked as if he was trying to grasp his wife's hand.
Thorin's eyes brightened with the dawn of recognition. "Oh well, that's definitely a surprise."
"Did you do this?" Thranduil's gaze betrayed an honest need to know the truth. At that moment he dropped all pretence in front of the beloved gems of his dead wife.
"The Mountain King would have never done such a folly," Thorin's voice turned deep and authoritative.
Thranduil tilted his head trying to figure this dwarf lord out, "someone betrayed you then? An act of treason." He was honestly confused.
"This was probably the work of some unprocessed dwarf, who wished to take matters into his own hands. Cut the middlemen out so to say," Thorin added unruffled.
Thranduil's brow rose in slow understanding. "Like someone who was well known for his fierce nature since childhood and always bothered my realm with stupid endeavours?"
Thorin humphed, "Possibly."
"I know of a dwarf that fits that description. He stole my horse and half my army went after him and came back empty handed. Could we be talking about the same dwarf here?" the elven King's voice sounded slightly amused. Holding the precious gems of his wife in his hands was enough to twist his unbending nature around. To show a much softer side of him that rarely did anyone saw.
Thorin smiled smugly. "Most probably."
Thranduil's lips broke into a knowing smile. "I am certain you shall punish this unprocessed dwarf when you return to your halls, King Oakenshield."
"Heavy punishments await for him," he said haughtily.
Thranduil pulled back and looked at the pouch in his hand with deep affection. "You know the gems shall not return back to Erebor, correct?"
"Had no such hopes," Thorin tilted his head calmly.
"You've just lost your firm grip on the negotiation for the King's gem," Thranduil raised his brow.
Thorin pressed his lips. "Did I? That's very sad for me."
Thranduil looked at him long and hard before his lip upturned into a careful smile, "you seem rather unfazed for someone whose rule depends from the Arkenstone."
"A rule that's dependent from a gem can never be solid," Thorin said calmly.
"Those are wise words," Thranduil admitted.
Thorin tilted his head loftily.
Thranduil called his soldier. He spoke a few words into his ear and the elf removed the chains from Thorin's wrists.
Thorin crossed his arms and kept his heavy gaze on Thranduil. "No more prison for me today?"
"Our races fought for each other against the troops of darkness as if we were brothers. I cannot overlook that," Thranduil said with a newfound kindness in his eyes.
"Letting me go?" Thorin pressed his lips.
"You are free to leave, unless you wish to remain for the night along with your dame," Thranduil's fingers caressed the velvet pouch and Thorin's eyes fell on that.
"What for?" Thorin frowned.
"My home can offer good wine, food and company with people it considers friends," Thranduil spoke elegantly and closed his eyes for a brief moment.
"Friends? Aren't we taking this a step too far?" Thorin's lips turned into an eloquent smile.
"It is an offer you can decline. I will allow you to leave with your dame anytime if you so wish."
"It is a tempting offer for sure," Thorin tilted his head courteously.
"From a King to a King, it would please me if you remained with us for the night. There are things that we need to discuss. Don't you agree?" the elven King offered.
"Very well," Thorin's face brightened with a lopsided smile of understanding.
Eilin sat at the edge of her beautiful bed, that was made out of elegantly carved wood. The airy windows that overlooked the tall caverns of the upper halls were open, but it was still stifling warm in there. Her eyes turned towards that windows many times as she heard a lot of commotion taking place somewhere down there. She stood up to check what was happening. Apparently in one of the wide open feast areas there was a lot of activity. She returned to her bed, overlooking the airy green knee high dress that the she-elf had brought for her to wear.
She explained patiently to Eilin that soon she'd be feel uncomfortably warm in her heavy dwarven attire, but the loyal maiden stood her ground. She refused to change her clothes and also refused food and water unless someone led her to Thorin. She wanted to know that he was alright. The she-elf reassured her that all was well, but Eilin was not convinced. On the contrary the more time rolled by, the more she was becoming persuaded that something dreadful happened to him and they were not telling her. When the she-elf left her alone, Eilin began an anxious pacing in her rooms. She went to the door expecting to find it locked. Instead it opened immediately and she found herself peaking out into the long corridor that was alit by beautiful lamps that were hanging by the rock of the cavern. No one was in sight. They hadn't placed any sentinels on her. Where was she to go even if she left her room? It wasn't as if she knew how to reach the cellars and search for him. Surely someone would find her before she even reached the end of this damned corridor and lead her back.
That thought didn't stop the dwarven blood in her from rebelling against the rules and she tiptoed out of her room in the hopes of finding her way to him. As expected it wasn't long until an elf found her and politely escorted her back to her rooms. When she said that she wasn't a prisoner and therefore free to roam the halls, the elf agreed but told her that she needed a guide lest she got lost.
She collapsed onto her bed disappointed at her meagre attempt at an escape and remained there looking at her crossed hands. Her heart was beating erratically as her mind created images of Thorin trapped in a wet, dirty and dark cell under her feet somewhere. When the door knocked she answered almost breathless. She'd give her life for any news from him. From anyone. It was Rýngwen that came in and sat next to her. They had informed her that Eilin needed a guide to escort her around Thranduil's halls. Eilin honestly said that she only wanted to find the cells and see Thorin. Rýngwen smiled at that and reassured Eilin that the Dwarven King was not in any cell, but at a meeting with the Elven King. Eilin's eyes brightened with the first honest smile. She grasped Rýngwen's hand asking for the information to be repeated in desperate need for reassurance.
Rýngwen told her that she should really change her clothes and use the adjoining room to take a bath. Eilin refused once again. Rýngwen offered food and water. Eilin shook her head in denial and admitted that she was comforted by the knowledge that Thorin was not imprisoned, but unless she was escorted to him, she wouldn't eat, she wouldn't drink and she wouldn't take any baths or change clothes. She sat there crossing her hands stubbornly as Rýngwen bowed and left.
Then it was just her counting moments to the end of the day backwards. Standing up and pacing. Counting her fingers and mumbling curses under her breath. Thinking that the elf lied to her about Thorin and that he was somewhere down there suffering. Afterwards she remembered how calm he had looked when they parted, knowing that she should trust in the judgment of a man that has commanded, ruled and fought more than she had lived. Maybe he wasn't the white bearded, ancient looking dwarf with the benevolent eyes, the image she had created out of Rhiannon's stories, but that didn't mean he didn't own immense wisdom inside that handsome head of his. What did she know about elves and their relationships with dwarves apart from what common folk knew? What did she know especially about the relationship between the elves of Mirkwood and the dwarves of Erebor?
She went back and forth in front of her bed, in front of her window, in front of the bathroom door and then she realised this place didn't have a fireplace, but she was sweating profusely. She looked around for any source of heat, but found none yet she was burning up. Apparently Rýngwen had been right. The magic of the Elven King was heating up this place and her constant back and forth was causing her skin to itch. In the end she gave up. She took off her overcoat, her vest and her tunic without any seconds thoughts. Eilin tore them off her skin. She continued her worried pacing, but still the sweat was sipping through the fabric of her under tunic. Frustrated she sat on the bed and kicked off her fur boots. Then she was just down to her leather pants and her under tunic and taking those off meant standing in that room naked.
Suddenly she wanted not only to take a bath, but she wanted to do it under frozen water and possibly drink half of it in the process. The problem was that she didn't know how to call Rýngwen again. So she gave up and went to the balcony hoping that a small wisp of air would cool her burning brow. There she found herself unwillingly drawn in by the intense activity in the feasting area. They seemed to be preparing for some kind of dinner. Arranging plates and utensils around a large round table. Placing new lanterns from the overhanging branches and ornamenting them with silver threads that sparkled. She stood there looking down at them for a long time, slowly cooling down the heat in her. When finally the light of the sun was almost gone the magic of the place under her window made her jaw drop open and she became absolutely bewitched. If the enchanted lake had been astonishing, then what she was witnessing now was simply stunning. All the small lanterns hanging by long silver ropes from the top of the cavern looked like stars in a dark sky. Smaller lamps brightened up the twisting walkways and quiet abodes with a warm light that soothed her mind. Groups of birds, butterflies and other insects flew back and forth all over the cavern, under the soft lights. One landed on the banister of her balcony and she smiled down at it enthralled. She wondered if there were any fireflies here also, like at the enchanted lake. She had almost forgotten all her troubles, when the door knocked again and she turned around with a sharp gasp, "Come in!"
And give me some good news…her mind added.
Rýngwen entered holding a tray with a silver urn and glass. "Some water for you my lady?"
Eilin ran so fast to get it that she tripped on her boots and caught herself on the post of her bed.
"Are you alright?" Rýngwen asked worried and placed the tray on a desk.
Eilin filled the glass and drank it in one go. "Yes, thirsty," she mumbled and filled up a second. Then a third and a fourth. When her thirst had been satiated she exhaled in relief and looked up at Rýngwen, "why does your King make this place so warm? It's unnatural, all of it!"
"Elves are not susceptible to extreme temperatures. This doesn't bother us, but the King wishes to make the creatures that abode his halls feel comfortable against the frozen wind of the northern mountains," Rýngwen explained.
"Well, it might feel good to butterflies and bugs, but it's killing me," Eilin said and aired her face that had began sweating again.
"Your clothing is too heavy. That is why I brought you this dress. Maybe you should reconsider taking a bath and changing?" Rýngwen smiled.
"Nope. I will boil to death and your mighty King can have it on his conscience. I am not moving from this spot unless I have some news of Thorin," she sat down stubbornly and crossed her arms. Her sweat was running in steady rivulets at the side of her face.
Rýngwen smiled and crossed her palms calmly in front of her thighs, "That is what I was sent here to tell you. You are invited by King Thranduil in tonight's feast that is being held for King Thorin."
Eilin looked up shocked. "The feast down there is for Thorin?" She whispered.
"And for you my lady," Rýngwen bowed respectfully.
Eilin's relief was followed quickly by joy and then by tears that came unbidden and streamed down her cheeks. "He is well then?"
"King Thorin was never harmed in any manner my lady," Rýngwen bowed again.
"Alight, alright, I can breathe again…" she wiped her cheeks dry.
"Do you need any assistance to take a bath and change?" Rýngwen offered.
Eilin looked at the green dress suddenly bewildered. She knew where the hands went, but the strings that tied on her back looked way too long and way too complicated. She looked up at Rýngwen, "don't you have something...uhm easier... for me to wear?"
"That is an official elven gown," Rýngwen smiled.
Eilin hesitated briefly, "I will need assistance to get in it, and out of it also," she said in an afterthought.
Rýngwen nodded, "I will remain here to assist you with it. Shall I prepare the bath for you?"
Eilin felt her cheeks blushing at the thought of Thorin touching her in this dirty and sweaty state. She nodded enthusiastically. Even the thought of cold water rinsing away all that itchy sweat was comforting. "Yes, of course."
She went into the bathroom to find a tub that resembled a flower and Rýngwen brought in bucket after bucket of tepid water for her to bathe in. When she finished and dried up, Rýngwen helped her into some underwear that seemed way too small for her liking and then into the complicated dress. It fell a little under her knees and left most of her back uncovered expect from the strings that Rýngwen twisted in front of her torso and waist and then tied them behind. She was offered a pair of boots of very light fabric and when Rýngwen offered to help her with her hair, Eilin didn't deny. The elf braided two long strands from her temples and clasped them to the back of her head.
She thanked Rýngwen and then followed her silently to the feasting area. Hoping that Thorin wouldn't judge her dress as too revealing, because as sure as hell that is what it felt like. The breeze around her knees and thighs may have felt like heaven, but she didn't think the Mountain King would approve of his dame appearing in this manner in front of all these people. The thought of seeing him though soon erased all doubt about her airy dress. The moment they arrived at the feasting area she dropped her eyes to the floor and looked only at her crossed hands in front of her thighs and at her boots. She felt too exposed and too sheepish.
Rýngwen drew a chair for her, "here my lady."
Eilin looked up to thank her and her eyes caught his across the table instantly. The wave of relief brought tears to them when she saw that he was not only well, but sitting rather comfortably next to the Elven King. When his azure eyes fell on her, captivated beyond reason, her heart halted before exploding to an erratic pace. She had to bite the inside of her lip to stop her cheeks from blushing crimson red. She failed. Eilin lowered her eyes to the utensils in front of her and tried not to feel every single inch of her body thrilled from the potency of his stare.
"Wood and stone," Thranduil raised his cup and smiled at Thorin who was looking bewitched at the breathtaking beauty that had just arrived at their table. His eyes rolled down her figure and he felt at a loss for words, or maybe at a loss for breath would be more accurate.
"the what?" He shook his head and tore his eyes away from Eilin with difficulty.
"Wood and stone," Thranduil repeated apparently amused, "the basis of our architecture is the same."
Thorin tried to clear his head that fogged up with thoughts about what he wanted to do to that dainty dress that Eilin wore later on. He would have felt insulted towards the elves for dressing up his dame in this manner, hasn't he seen all the she-elves on the table wearing similar dresses. Point was he was not interested in them and so their gowns meant nothing to him, until she appeared and grabbed his attention by the hair. He cleared his suddenly clogged throat, "dwarven architecture is more intricate, detailed and sturdy."
Thranduil raised his brow, "I cannot deny that. Those are the reasons we traded with your kin in the past. Dwarven craftsmanship is unsurpassed in many areas. How about our viaduct? I am sure you recognised it as the work of your kin. It was done per request when our relationships still held strong."
"Think we should make a try to rekindle those relationships?" Thorin tasted his wine.
Thranduil smiled, "I'd like to see that as a possibility, especially after the latest developments."
"I am not as convinced yet." Thorin said heavily.
Thranduil sighed and his lips pursed as he looked at his glass thoughtfully. "You are overburdened by the past King Oakenshield? You need to remember that if we are to vow allegiance to each other we have to erase the past." That was the first time he was addressing Thorin with a clear honest voice, bereft of side meanings and theatrics.
Thorin looked at him acutely, "we are unevenly balanced upon that."
"Meaning?"
"It was not me that doubled crossed you with the gems of Lasgalen, whilst you were the one that turned his back to the suffering of my kin," Thorin looked at him sternly.
Thranduil held his weighty gaze for several moments were neither relented, "I wanted to protect my people. Wouldn't you have done the same?"
"No," Thorin shook his head with certainty, "our people were close then. We worked for each other, traded, held friendships. I wouldn't have betrayed you in this manner and don't backtrack on what my grandfather did to you with the gems. He was an sick man that suffered greatly and knew no better. I am not him…yet you are …you. How can I be certain you won't betray my kin again if I swear my allegiance to you?"
"Our people fought alongside each other. We bled together in this recent war," Thranduil retorted.
"You had no choice. You were caught in the middle" -Thorin raised his brow at him and leaned over- "let's be honest here. If your troops were not in the valley in front of my stronghold, but up in Dale, would you have joined this war or would you have retreated like in the past? Wanting to protect your people?"
Thranduil didn't answer, but his eyes thinned on Thorin.
"I can understand your need to place the well being of your kin in front of everything else. That is my concern also. My people! But I wouldn't be able to live knowing that someone was asking for help and I was turning my back at them," Thorin continued relentless.
Thranduil remained tensely silent.
"You see I am mortal. I have not the wisdom of thousands of years in my head, nor the dispassion that would bring over a soul. You know more, but I feel more. Can I trust you not to betray me when I call for your help again?" Thorin whispered close to Thranduil's face.
"As a King to a King," Thranduil began but Thorin spoke over him.
"Let those fancy words fly when others are listening. This is between us. I brought you the gems as an act of goodwill. Now the ball is in your court. Show me I can trust you. Not with words, but with actions. As for the defences of the north and Gandalf's concerns, If I feel secure enough with your reassurances, then I will vow the allegiance of Erebor to the elves of Mirkwood. I will open up all the roads for trades, military operations and even friendships, when you prove your good will to me," he said calmly and leaned back to his chair majestically.
Thranduil leaned back and raised his brow to his gathering. He tasted his wine and nodded vaguely, "very well."
"This is Orcrist my lord, isn't it?" An elf sitting by his side said when he found the opportunity now that the two Kings had drawn back from each other. "A gruesome story it tells, by Kings it has been wielded. Ecthelion, one of the best elven warriors had killed thousands Orcs with it, which is why the Orcs of the Misty Mountains fear it so."
"An honourable sword indeed," Thorin said with a gracious smile.
"Nagol e-lyg," the elf raised his glass at them.
Thorin nodded knowingly, "tooth of snake."
"Tooth of dragon," Thranduil corrected and Thorin's eyes fell heavy on him.
"Seeing the heir to Durin's throne wielding an elven weapon of such immense history, a part of Gondolin, is putting a smile of content on my face," the elf said pleased.
"It is the best sword I have handled and it is an honour to have it" -Thorin tilted his head imposingly- "but I see an elf lord handling a dwarven blade in this table also."
Thranduil pursed his lips and gave an imperceptible nod. He unseated the black blade and placed it upon the table like Thorin had done. Their swords stood side by side, "I must confess that this is one of the best blades I have laid my hands on. Notwithstanding the unsurpassable elven craftsmanship of swords, the master who crafted this presented the dwarven skill with the brightest colours. It surpasses the skills of my kin, but for a few masters of the first age, which must not be touched by any us." The elven King offered him an all knowing look.
"Thank you," Thorin said gracefully.
"Our King handling a dwarven blade and the Mountain King handling an elven one. If that is not the first step to a renewed friendship between our races I don't know what would be," another elf said and raised his glass as a toast.
"Acts of good will perhaps," Thorin's lips broke into a clever side smile.
Thranduil smiled also, "one cannot deny that the new rulership of Erebor is playing a dangerous, yet highly skilful game."
Thorin raised his brow and his glass, "it is done so for the good of our people."
"for the good of our people," Thranduil raised his glass and they drank.
Thorin allowed his eyes to drift towards Eilin that was eating and discussing timidly with the she-elves who sat at her flanks. She looked so out of place that he couldn't but adore her even more for that embarrassment. It was obvious in her every move. She was trying the best she could to not draw attention upon herself, yet she had the attention of many as always. Without even understanding how interesting she was, she brightened up their faces with some comment about the food, the butterflies that shared their dinner or by trying to understand how this elven architecture was allowing minimum light from the sky above to pass through, even though it was night outside.
"Since you are here I'd be thankful if you addressed some of my most recent concerns." Thranduil's voice drew his attention away from Eilin again.
"I am listening," Thorin nodded.
"The large immigration flows that are coming in Erebor from the north."
Thorin raised his brow at him. "How's that your concern? They are not flogging Mirkwood."
"Any kind of instability in the north is my concern as it should be yours. We can work together through this." Thranduil looked at him crisply.
Thorin pursed his lips and tasted his wine.
"What is going on up there?" Thranduil insisted.
"Darkness is," Thorin's voice fell.
Thranduil's eyes clouded.
"It is not coming only from the north, but also from the south. Your realm and my stronghold are caught right in the middle, with Dol Guldur at our flanks brimming with evil. Orcs are ransacking Ered Mithrin and the mountain ranges of north and south Ithilien. Killing my people, maiming women and children" -his neck crawled with anger and it came out in the low rumble of his voice- "The darkness that's spread in the south behind the Ash Mountains is trying to take over the top ranges of Ered Mithrin. That leaves a gaping hole to be filled. Which place suits them better as a strong foothold between north and south do you think?"
"Dol Guldur," Thranduil clouded.
He turned to the elven King, "It's not as empty as the white council thinks, is it?"
"My eyes cannot penetrate the darkness of that place, but I do know that the shadow of the East, the Black Easterling was called there to occupy it once again with two Nazgul. I wouldn't trust it safe to wander alone neither with company," Thranduil said carefully. *
"How about planning an attack on it?"
Thranduil shook his head, "dark magic keeps everything concealed. To us it's empty. Totally."
"Then maybe someone should provoke a revelation out of them," he tasted his wine thoughtfully.
"Like whom?" Thranduil's eyes looked at him searchingly.
"I am sure we'll find someone who's got the audacity," Thorin's brow lifted.
"Oh, of that I have no doubt" -Thranduil's lips curled up knowingly- "but that someone would have to own a good reason to put his life on the line like this. One does not simply wander into darkness."
"Shouldn't clearing out Dol Guldur be enough of a reason?" Thorin pursed his lips.
"Not good enough to risk your life. Not when so many things are at stake in Erebor and between us." Thranduil said calmly.
Thorin's brows came together darkly, "one might need to wander in it no matter the danger."
Thranduil looked at him carefully for a few moments before resuming. "This is a folly. We will find great resistance. The necromancer needs to keep that stronghold, especially now that you have reclaimed Erebor and the defences of the north have doubled. They fear our unity. If he gets his hands on Durin's heir he won't hesitate to kill him."
Thorin gave him a long thoughtful look.
Thranduil gazed at him carefully, "I understand the strategic need to wipe out that accursed castle, but the timing is wrong. Erebor is regrouping and my realm has suffered many casualties. Tell me and be truthful. What is it you really seek in Dol Guldur?"
Thorin's eyes became veiled, "the remains of my father and revenge against those who tortured him."
Thranduil's face fell upon those heavy words.
A/N: Tweaked the timeline when the Shadow of the East came to occupy Dol Guldur to fit this story. I think in the books it happens ten years later?
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