We wrapped up training early, after a little more yoga hilarity (including Thorin this time), another jog, and more stretching. I swear I stretched for at least two hours, but probably more like three. If there were such a thing as over-stretching, I discovered it. 'Adad and Thorin, or course, only participated in a bit of the stretching, periodically drifting away to drill the boys, drill Bilbo, spar, and talk strategy with Uncle Balin. Bilbo, it looked like, was doing much better than expected with Sting. Like all hobbits, he was deceptively quick and light on his feet, so once the dwarrow got over the fact that he would never be considered strong, they were pretty pleased with his progress. Kili especially. While the young dwarf was certainly stronger than I could ever hope to be, he was built with less strength than most dwarrow, and employed similar tactics to those Bilbo would need. Speed, and quick feet, and striking right where it hurt. Sting indeed.
Only Sting wasn't named Sting yet.
Must remember that.
After training, of course, was another bath. I would 100% be abusing the privilege of having one around while I had the chance. Besides, magic elven bath salts.
This time, Insiloth delivered her apology herself.
When I opened the door for housekeeping (I know Rivendell isn't a hotel, but still) to prepare my bath, it was to the few dwarrow in the courtyard staying very tense and quiet, and Insiloth, equally tense, at the head of the party of maids. I blinked.
"Can I help you?"
Insiloth gave an odd sort of little half nod, and held out a small ceramic jar. "I offered my apologies second-hand yesterday. I came to deliver them in person today. Three pinches of these bath salts should be sufficient. On the road when a bath is not available, one pinch with a small amount of water can be used to make a paste for a poultice. It will help with strained muscles, bruising, and sprains. It is not harmful to open wounds, but will do little to help." She gave that odd little half-nod again.
I blinked. Again. Okay.
"Thank you. I appreciate your apology. However, I believe your apology is not owed to me, but to my companions." I regarded her quietly.
She sighed, without releasing any attention, and turned to the courtyard. "I apologize for my ignorant and offensive words."
...I didn't sound very heartfelt, but well. The lady came all the way over here to offer said apology, so I gave the present dwarrow a look. Thorin and 'adad didn't seem too interested in diplomacy, but Balin stepped forward. He didn't nod to her, she hadn't nodded to him, after all, but he did sort of tilt his head and regard her for a moment.
"Apology accepted."
Insiloth gave another little half-nod (to them this time), turned and gave me more of a full nod, then fled as elegantly and gracefully as possible. I stepped aside to let the maids in, one waiving me off when I tried to hand her the jar, holding up a little pouch, "No use wasting what you might need for the road, My Lady, when we have plenty here."
I shrugged. "Guess not. Thanks."
We'd been through the 'My Lady' argument enough times that I'd given up. She looked smug, in a weird sort of fond way. Besides, I had more important fish to fry at the moment.
Leaving the door open, I stepped out into the courtyard amongst the still tense and quiet dwarrow. Uncle Balin was smiling, but 'adad and Thorin still looked like they'd like to punch something. A couple of steps brought me up to the three of them.
"Thank you, Uncle." I gave him a brief hug. "I know her apology was not the best, nor most sincere, but any apology is a step toward mending broken bridges. I'm glad you saw that."
He just nodded and patted my elbow as I pulled away. "Aye lassie. I do believe that's the first time I've heard an elf admit they aren't all-knowing." He chuckled and winked.
I laughed. "Why am I not surprised?"
Patting his shoulder, I moved past him to stand in front of 'adad.
He frowned fiercely at me, arms crossed.
I smiled and leaned forward to rest my forehead on his. "Thanks for not punching her, 'adad, however much you wanted to."
He huffed and rolled his eyes, but uncrossed his arms to grab my shoulders and bump our heads gently together.
Thorin, when I turned to him, had lost much of his frown, but his brow was still furrowed, and his arms still crossed. I shrugged and tilted my head. He sighed and deflated a bit.
"One of the hardest things about diplomacy is swallowing past hurts and well-matured anger, even hatred. Emotions, unfortunately, only make it messy. One thing dwarrow and elves have in common is a fierce pride, and pride can be the hardest thing to overcome when it comes to diplomacy between peoples long divided by mistakes, misunderstandings, misdeeds, and anger. Long divided by hate. Thank you for putting aside your pride today." I held his gaze, trying desperately to both show him my immense pride and fondness.
Eventually, he nodded.
The bath was 100% what I needed, and while I didn't fall asleep this time, I still found myself washing after the water had begun to cool. While there was still lingering soreness, it wouldn't stiffen into something problematic while I slept.
What little sleep I might get tonight.
I sighed as I toweled off. My spare set of clothes from Dori was in my backpack, as well as some elven toiletries wrapped in a cloth: a little tub of weird gritty toothpaste, a bar of shampoo, and a bar of soap. Unfortunately, no toothbrush. It was a finger-brushing kind of Age. On the upside, the cloth diaper pad things the maids left for me were exactly where they left them. I hadn't had periods in years, now, not since the hysterectomy. Luckily, it worked, and no more endometriosis pain for me. The doctor said it wasn't always effective, but I didn't want kids anyway, so it wasn't like I'd've been too terribly upset if I 'lost my chance at kids for nothing.'
I hummed as I hung up my towel. Periods were inconvenient in the modern world. Just imagine how uncomfortable they must be here. I shuddered.
The clothes I'd worn earlier hadn't even gotten sweaty, what with the light day, so I slipped them back on, humming to myself and puttering around the room, making sure everything was either packed, or ready to be packed on short notice. Without all the gear my bag was meant for, even with Dori's clothes contributions, the toiletries, and what gear I had packed, I had a not insignificant amount of room left. I shuffled things around so my trail mix and jerky were in a side pouch. While I planned on it being three days worth for one person, if I tucked it away before the goblin tunnels, it would at least give each of us a couple of mouthfuls before Beorn's.
Hmm.
There were undoubtedly a lot of precious things lost when the Company was accosted, which begged the question of whether any of that could be avoided. If, perhaps, packs could stay on dwarrow and end up in the pile of weapons, at least some could be grabbed while escaping? The difficulty there would be how to prepare the dwarrow without actually preparing them. I put the thought away for further consideration.
I didn't want to think about how, despite Thorin's assurances and 'adad's love, they might all hate me by the time we got out of the mountains.
Maybe I should forewarn Gandalf in case our stay in Rivendell changed things enough that he would get too far behind?
Setting thought aside.
I paused, took a deep breath, and firmly turned my focus back to packing.
The courtyard, when I emerged, was organized chaos. The provisions Thorin had purchased had obviously been delivered, and the Company was busy getting it all tucked away. Unsurprisingly, there was a pile of lembas by the door, entirely untouched. It wasn't wrapped in leaves the way the Lothlorian elves did it in the Lord of the Rings movies, but in neat little bundles of some sort of cheesecloth. One was open on top of the pile, with a bit broken off one piece. Someone, likely Gloin, and sampled and summarily rejected the obviously elven fare. I sighed.
Well, I guess we'd found out what was filling up my backpack.
Each little bundle had three pieces of lembas in it, and there were probably a hundred or more bundles. This, I grinned, would be our key to getting through Mirkwood.
One of them, at least.
Hopefully Gandalf would take at least some of what I said to heart.
"Oi, what you packing that for?"
I turned to find Fili frowning at me.
"Backup, what else? When it comes to food, I'd rather eat chalky elven waybread than nothing. It doesn't weigh much, and I had room."
He didn't look any less dubious, but after a moment I found myself kneeling between both princes as they stuffed what we couldn't fit in my pack in theirs and our pockets. Bilbo even wandered over to help. It took some shoving, and some laughter, but we managed to get all of it tucked away.
It didn't escape my notice that Thorin and 'adad had significantly lighter and smaller packs, followed by the boys. These obviously, were the groups best fighters, and having them less encumbered allowed them to do their jobs better. In that same vein, Bombur was most encumbered, and carried most of the food and cooking implements, with his cousin and brother taking the rest. Bifur and Bufor each also had a number of small blocks of wood, and nearly identical toolkits rolled up in cloth organizers.
Balin and Ori packed together, a number of small journals and scroll cases and bundles passed back and forth and tucked away neatly. Dori and Nori bickered, but packed deftly, both sometimes reaching over to snag heavier items from Gloin, or Oin, or each other. Which, often, seemed to be the source of the bickering.
Oin had a number of medical supplies spread around him, and was organizing and taking inventory as he packed them away. Some of the containers and bundles looked a little road-worn, but many were obviously new items from the elves. He was doing lots of frowning and muttering. Gloin, next to him, was behaving similarly as far as the frowning and muttering, but seemed to be switching between fiddling with an honest-to-god abacus and dumping things a bit willy-nilly into his pack.
After packing, apparently, came weapon care. As each dwarf finished with his pack, he settled down with a rag and whetstone. Sometimes family groups shared, like the boys, the 'urs, and Gloin and Oin, but Nori and Dori each had their own (Ori didn't need one), Uncle and 'adad didn't share, and neither did Thorin. Though he did sit near the boys. Bilbo and I shared a sort of lost look. Even if I did have a whetstone, I wouldn't know how to use it. Bilbo might, depending on what Hobbits use for their kitchen knives, but I was lost.
Nori took pity on Bilbo, and tossed over his whetstone once he finished. While our Hobbit was a bit clumsy, he evidently knew the basics and got diligently to work. Not that an elvish blade like Sting really needed a lot of work. I glanced at my own blades, that I had sitting across my lap. They looked all right to me?
"Aris."
"'Adad!" I jumped.
He grunted and shook his head, but plopped down beside me. "Here." He held out a whetstone for me, wrapped in a rag.
"Thanks?" I took it gingerly. "I don't know how to use it though…"
"I know." He reached over and grabbed one of my swords, and I realized he still had a whetstone in hand. I blinked. Glancing around, I saw that everyone was wrapping up, but Thorin's was the only whetstone missing. I blushed and returned my attention to 'adad, who was watching me quietly.
I blushed harder.
He didn't comment though, just began to carefully show me how to care for my weapons. Even my arrows, once the swords were done. Kili and Fili joined us at that point, going over Kili's arrows. Fili borrowed Uncle's whetstone, and the four of us worked steadily through the two quivers, then moved on to Kili's extra quiver and one provided for me by the elves. These carried a lot more arrows, and would be strapped to our packs. A bow isn't any use if you run out of arrows, after all.
Dinner went almost entirely as usual, only with an odd undercurrent of tension. I sat with the Company at the lower table in an effort to avoid Elrond and Gandalf, but even then could feel the way everyone at the High Table was practically buzzing. No doubt Elrond was already making plans to try and prevent us from leaving, Gandalf was fretting about the White Council, and Thorin, Uncle, and 'adad had to be stressing about the map.
I tried to ignore it by focusing intently on my food.
Therefore, I jumped near out of my skin when Thorin suddenly spoke up from behind me.
"Aria."
"Yes?" I cleared my throat when it came out more of a strangled squeak. "Can I help you?"
"Come." He gestured for me to follow him, and that's about when I realized that Elrond, Gandalf (who was not-so-subtly also gesturing for Bilbo to come), Uncle, and 'adad were with him.
"Oh." I scrambled to stand. "Wait, really? Okay." I got to be at the map reading? I glanced outside. Dusk was just finishing up it's business, so either we were going to be having a meeting before the reading, or it was a bit of a hike to the cool waterfall cave with the moon pedestal thingy.
Turns out, it was a bit of both.
The cave was up the cliff behind the buildings, and along the valley a little ways, but the path to it was well-made and not too steep. By the time we reached the cave, it was full dark and the path was lit by lanterns that had to be some sort of magical solar lamps. The moon wasn't really up yet though, and Elrond gestured for all of us to gather around a table that had been set up with a full tea service and biscuits. Proper British biscuits, kind of like shortbread cookies.
For a few moments it was silent except for the sounds of crockery and silverware, and the murmured request for sugar, or milk, or a biscuit. Thorin and 'adad didn't participate, but it looked like Thorin was doing his best not to glare at Elrond and Gandalf. 'Adad had no such qualms. He even refused to sit, instead standing guard a little behind and beside Thorin's chair. Craft-wed to being a guard indeed.
I knew he would refuse anything now, but I also knew he had a bit of a sweet-tooth, so I wrapped up a couple of the biscuits in a napkin for him.
Eventually, Elrond broke the silence.
"The moon will illuminate the podium in approximately an hour. In the meantime, there is something I believe we should discuss."
Before Thorin could say something less than civil, Uncle jumped in. "Indeed? And what would that be?"
The words were, perhaps, not the height of courtesy, but he made it sound politely curious, so I guess it worked.
Elrond stirred his tea thoughtfully for a moment. "The issue of Arianna's safety on the road has been preying on my mind. The paths you tread are no place for the vulnerable or ill prepared."
…
That poncey elvish prick!
I stiffened immediately and opened my mouth to put him in his place again, but Thorin held up a hand. His expression brooked no room for argument, even though he was glaring at Elrond, and by proxy Gandalf, instead of me. I huffed but settled back to hear what he would say.
"You doubt my Company's willingness and ability to protect one of our own. You have obviously never stood beside a dwarf." he put his hand flat on the table. "Nor, it seems, are you aware of what occurs in your own training fields."
Elrond didn't respond, just held Thorin's gaze. Gandalf sighed in exasperation, but retreated when I threw him my best glare. This wasn't Thorin being stubborn, this was Elrond and Gandlaf being prejudiced pricks.
'Adad, actually, was the one to break the tension this time. Or well, the one to break the silence.
"You have no respect for her, and no respect for us, to think so little of us as to believe we could be persuaded to abandon her here like a bit of spare bread. Aris Dwalindottïr is ours, elf-lord, and with us she will stay!"
So… that cat was out of the bag.
I couldn't help but preen a little though, I mean, it was one thing to privately and quietly claim me as one of them, it was another to declare it to Elrond and Gandalf.
Uncle had a bit of a moment where it looked like he was struggling between agreement, pride, and exasperation, but he settled on nodding firmly. Thorin also gave a firm nod, if a small one, still holding Elrond's gaze.
The elf-lord leaned gracefully back in his chair, one eyebrow raised, and glanced slowly around the table. Thorin and 'adad were the picture of pride and defiance. I probably looked smug, Uncle just looked a bit tired, but proud nonetheless. Gandalf was pinching his nose and muttering, the sod. And poor Bilbo was trying to disappear under the table. Oh Bilbo.
"I see." Elrond said slowly. "This," he sighed, "Certainly changes things."
Thorin, 'adad, and I all raised an eyebrow. I had to suppress a laugh.
I've spent way too much time with these guys over the last week.
"For you, perhaps." Thorin finally bit out, when it didn't seem Elrond would clarify.
After another tense silence (like seriously guys, really?) Elrond gave a sigh and shook his head. "For all of Middle Earth, I fear."
…
As frustrating as this dude could be, not entirely wrong. It certainly didn't change the way I expected things to go for Middle Earth, but it probably did for him.
I shrugged.
He sighed again, and shook his head.
I rolled my eyes. "Changed, perhaps, from the way you saw things playing out, but it was always my intention to stay with the company. Have you forgotten Galadriel's message? I know you are wise, Lord Elrond, so what has you so blinded now? If it is that I am of the race of men and surrounded by dwarrow, I refer you to our earlier conversation about ingrained racism, and remind you again that sharing my existence with the White Council would spell doom." I turned to Gandalf. "That goes to you as well. You must not speak of my existence to anyone."
The wizard frowned, and tapped his fingers on his staff.
"Remember what I know, Olorin." I pressed quietly.
He started at the name, then nodded slowly, but didn't lose the frown.
Bilbo just looked very confused. Uncle did a better job of being subtly confused, but it reminded me we should probably bring him into the secret.
We sipped tea and nibbled biscuits in awkward silence until finally finally the moon made the water start to glow.
The map, as far as I could remember, held the same exact message as the books and movies: "Stand by the grey stone when the thrush knocks, and the setting sun with the last light of Durin's Day will shine upon the key-hole."
It was easy to see why they thought the setting sun was the key, not the moon. Or the moon and sun in the sky together? Hmm.
This time, Thorin was expecting the Durin's Day deadline, and I was able to keep Bilbo from accidently asking leading questions, so we avoided some of the awkwardness of our quest being openly known. Of course, Elrond did already know, but without it out there I guess he felt he couldn't accompany us, so he merely told Gandalf to meet with him later, then ditched us (gracefully) at the bottom of the path.
"It would be wise," Gandalf suddenly spoke up, "I think, to leave the valley before dawn, and without goodbyes."
"For once, I agree with you." I shot him a grin, but he just sort of huffed at me. I shrugged.
Thorin tilted his head for a moment, then shrugged and nodded. "Very well."
"I will not be able to join you." Gandalf continued as if we hadn't spoken, "Not until the mountain pass. I will be delayed."
Then he fixed me with a stare, decided not to say anything, and swept off muttering about the stubbornness of dwarves.
The prejudice of immortal know-it-alls.
Thorin rested a hand on the small of my back, and I jumped a bit, then suppressed a shudder when he chuckled right in my ear.
"Come Aris, we should inform Balin."
"Hmm, yes." I couldn't help but lean into him a bit as he guided me forward, not removing his hand.
