Chapter 8

*Everyone's POV*

"Rhosal!" Thorin shouted as she collapsed, and the fear in him spiked.

Lord Elrond caught her as Rhosal slumped forward. He quickly picked her up and gave quick instructions to Lindir in elvish. Running up the stairs, the Elf Lord disappeared with Rhosal to the healing house. Thorin could feel pure fear grip his chest again.

When he would go out looking for his father, he would be looking for Rhosal as well. He had been looking for so long, he had practically given up. He had finally found her. She had been alive in front of him for months. He had been suspicious at first and finally confirmed that it was her. He couldn't lose her now. They still had so much to talk about.

"Thorin!" Balin's shout pulled Thorin back from the pit of fear that had griped him. He looked to one of his oldest friends as Balin's concerned gaze turned sympathetic. "You need to stand. We are going to wash up and get settled before dinner."

Thorin nodded and stood up and followed Lindir to a large balcony that they were permitted to use. I was then that the Durin brothers spoke up.

"What about Rhosal?" Kili asked in worry. Rhosal had saved his life and was now fighting for hers as a result.

"She will be in the healing house until she wakes," Lindir explained to him.

"Lord Elrond will take great care of her Kili," Gandalf comforted. "Rhosal has been through far worse than a little orc poison."

"But why were you so affected by seeing her wings and tail uncle?" Fili asked in curiosity as Gandalf left for the healing house.

Thorin looked at his nephews as they both gave him concerned looks and sighed. "Rhosal is the same dragonling that your mother told you stories about," he told them, trying to get a hold of himself. The brothers eyes widened with realization. "I believed that she was dead for years."

"What do you mean?" Bofur asked. Most of the others didn't know about Rhosal and her connection to Erebor. They were all very confused about what was going on.

"Rhosal is the daughter of the blacksmith Talath and the designer Zorari," Balin explained to those that would know of them. Bilbo was the only one that didn't know who they were talking about. "They were dragonlings that lived outside Erebor and Thrain commissioned them both for their talents. Rhosal was with them but they all disappeared after Smaug took the mountain. We all believed she was dead."

"Dragonlings?" Bilbo questioned in fascination. "The human like dragons?"

Balin nodded. "Zorari disappeared a few years before the dragon attacked the mountain. Although, when we went looking for them at their home, both Rhosal and Talath had disappeared. We found Talath's body later almost ripped apart North of the Lonely Mountain. There was too much blood for it to just be his, so we had assumed that Rhosal had perished as well. We made two gravestones for them and held a funeral for them."

"All but Dís believed that she was dead," Dwalin put in. "Because there was no physical body, she still believed that she was alive."

"When did you both realize it was her?" Thorin asked now curious. Both of his most trusted and oldest friends had known that the woman that was with them, was the very dragonling that he believed was dead.

"I approached her about it when we were still in the Shire," Balin told him sheepishly.

"I suspected, but only confronted her after she argued with you," Dwalin explained gruffly, crossing his arms.

It was then that two elves came to escort them to dinner. Thorin looked at them both. "I would like to visit Rhosal before going to dinner," he requested.

The elves glanced at each other before looking back at the dwarf king. "The Lady Rhosal won't be awake," one of the elves informed him.

Thorin nodded. "That is alright," he replied. He then looked to the rest of the company. "Go and eat. I will be there shortly."

They all nodded and he followed one of the elves through Rivendell towards the healing house. Upon reaching the door, the elf knocked on the door and an unfamiliar voice called to come in. The elf opened the door for Thorin, and he walked into see two figures sitting next to an unconscious Rhosal. Rhosal herself was lying in a bed, but looked to have a little more color back, which was good.

The two figures next to the bed were a male and female. The male was tall with broad shoulders. His piercing amber eyes looked at Thorin with curiosity. His pitch black hair was pulled back at the base of his neck and somehow stood out against his tan skin. He wore green and pale brown elven clothes.

The female, who was still tall despite sitting down, was slimmer than her companion and was clearly an elf with her ears. Her chocolate brown eyes were red as she looked at him with tears still in her eyes. Her dark brown hair was pulled back from her fair face and looked like it would fall to her knees when she stood. She wore a simple lavender elvish dress with long sleeves.

"Thorin Oakenshield," the elf whispered.

Thorin nodded at her. "My lady," he greeted politely.

"Pardon my rudeness," she said, hastily wiping at her eyes. "I am Lady Estadis, Rhosal's grandmother, and this is my husband, Xerser, the Calm."

"Pleasure," he said, trying to be polite. "Could I have a moment alone with Rhosal?"

Lady Estadis sniffled and tried to put herself together. Thorin couldn't help but feel sympathy for the elf. It was clear that she loved her granddaughter and seeing her like that would be hard. "Of course," she said as she stood. "Rhosal has told us many things about you. My brother says that she is out of danger, and she will make a full recovery in a few days. It was good to meet you."

She took the hand of her husband and left the room with the door closing softly behind them. Thorin then looked to Rhosal on the bed.

She lay on her left side to keep pressure off of her right shoulder, and her emerald scales glittered on her wings in the afternoon sun that came through the window. Some of her pitch black hair stuck to her slightly pale cheek. Thorin reached out and tucked the strand behind her ear in a slow manner, careful not to wake her. The color had returned to her cheeks, so she wasn't as pale as before. Thorin sat next to the bed, and gently took her hand.

"I'm glad that you will be alright," he spoke to her unconscious form. "Not just so we can talk, but because I am happy that you are alive. I do wonder why you never came back, but you always did things your own way. I just want you to come back to us." Thorin then leaned over and put his forehead against Rhosal's. "Cofin spical ekes ve. (Come back to me.)"

He took a deep breath before straightening and giving her hand a squeeze. Thorin then got up to leave when the door opened, and Lord Elrond entered with Gandalf behind him. Thorin gave a polite nod in greeting. Rhosal had called him uncle and Lady Estadis called him her brother, which made him family to Rhosal. He was trying very hard not to be rude, not like before.

Lord Elrond nodded in return. "She should wake up within a few hours," he informed Thorin. "I came to escort you and Mithrandir to dinner."

Thorin nodded and followed the two out and, with one last look at Rhosal, closed the door quietly. After they left, Rhosal's golden snake-like eyes opened slowly.

*Dragonscale*

As they walked up to the main balcony for dinner, Gandalf spoke up. "Kind of you to invite us," he said. "Not really dressed for dinner."

"Well, you never are," Lord Elrond joked, and Gandalf chuckled at that.

Lord Elrond lead them to the main table while the others were seated at two long tables. As they ate, Lord Elrond examined the new swords that both wizard and dwarf had acquired. "This is Orcrist, the Goblin-cleaver," he said as he examined the sword. "A famous blade forged by the High Elves of the West, my kin. May it serve you well." He handed the sword back to Thorin, who accepted it with a nod. Lord Elrond then turned to Gandalf's new sword. "And this is Glamdring, the Foehammer. Sword of the King of Gondolin. These were made for the Goblin Wars of the First Age."

He then turned to Thorin. "I am glad that you found Orcrist," he told him honestly, who Thorin looked at him in confusion. "You are a worthy warrior for the famous blade."

Thorin looked down at the sword that leaned against the table. "Rhosal said something similar."

Lord Elrond gave him a small smile. "She always has been a good judge of character," he agreed. He then turned to Gandalf. "How did you come by these?"

"We found them in a Troll-hoard on the Great East Road…" Gandalf explained. "…shortly before we were ambushed by Orcs."

Thorin looked at Gandalf with a mildly annoyed look. "And what were you doing on the Great East Road?" Lord Elrond asked in slight amusement.

Thorin sighed quietly before standing. "Excuse me." He walked away from the table and moved as far as he could without being rude. Thorin was trying to keep his hatred at bay. One of the things that Rhosal had done was to scold him for hating and being rude to the elves. So, the least he could do while she wasn't here, was to try and keep it at bay.

"Thirteen dwarves and a Halfling," Lord Elrond described, while raising his glass to take a drink. "Strange traveling companions, Gandalf. Even for Rhosal as well."

"These are the descendants of the house of Durin," Gandalf defended. "They're noble, decent folk. And they're surprisingly cultured. They've got a deep love of the arts."

Some of the dwarves started to complain about the music as Gandalf said this. "Change the tune, why don't you?" Nori complained. "I feel like I'm at a funeral."

Oin, who had stuffed a napkin in his horn, looked confused. "Did someone die?"

Bofur decided to remedy this. "All right, lads. There's only one thing for it." He got up from his seat and stood on the stump that was in the middle of the balcony. Bofur then just started to sing, and the other dwarves chimed in.

"There's an inn, there's an inn.

There's a merry old inn

Beneath an old gray hill.

And there they brew a beer so brown

The Man in the Moon

Himself came down

One night to drink his fill."

The other dwarves were singing along and started to throw food around. Thorin also started to stomp his foot for the beat as the others were banging on the tables.

"Oh, the ostler has a tipsy cat

That played a five-stringed fiddle

And up and down he says his bow

Now squeaking high

Now purring low

Now sawing in the middle

So, the cat on the fiddle

Played hey-diddle-diddle

A drink that'll wake the dead

He squeaked and he sawed

And he quickened the tune

And the landlord

Shook the Man in the Moon

'It's after Three!' he said."

There was a shocked gasp as a pastry hit one of the pillars and a familiar laugh sounded. All eyes snapped over to the entrance to the balcony to see Rhosal with her grandparents standing there. Rhosal wore a simple dark blue elven gown with her amber wings and tail behind her.

"Ananic (Dwarves)," Xerser grumbled in draconic.

"Astahii shilta qe zistr jekipup (They can be quite messy)," Rhosal told him with a smile at the company.

"Like you have room to talk," Dwalin countered to which Rhosal just laughed.

"Are you feeling better?" Kili asked in worry as he stood up. He was still feeling guilty about her getting injured and wanted to make sure that she was doing better.

Thorin watched as she gave him a soft smile and couldn't help looking over her in a dress. It was almost impossible to get her into a dress in the past, and it had been a very long time since then. "I'm doing just fine Kili," she told him.

"Despite the instructions to stay resting in bed," Lord Elrond countered with a slight scolding look.

Rhosal frowned slightly at him. "I've spent enough time in a bed resting uncle," she retorted. "I just needed to stretch my legs."

"Considering how you needed help to get here, perhaps you should listen to your uncle," Thorin threw in. Rhosal looked at him, with the golden eyes that he remembers so well, and a raised eyebrow at his suggestion. Many of the company were staring at him in shock and confusion at the fact that he was agreeing with an elf. But he didn't take his eyes off of Rhosal who just stared back.

Rhosal then pouted a little bit. "Fine," she conceded, muttering under her breath. "I'll be in my room then."

With that she walked off, and both of her grandparents nodded to him in thanks to which he returned. When he turned back to the company, they all stared at him with confusion. He was tempted to roll his eyes. "Rhosal can be very stubborn," he explained. "If she doesn't rest, then it will take longer for her to get better."

"Thank you for that," Lord Elrond said in gratitude. "It is very hard to get her to listen when it comes to her health, she just keeps pushing herself. I'm glad that there is someone who can get her to listen."

Thorin could only nod in reply. This was the first time an elf thanked him for anything, and he wasn't too sure what to make of it. Perhaps these elves where slightly different than the others.