Chapter 13: Retreat

Tauriel found with great astonishment that they've reached the feet of the Grey Mountains a lot quicker this way than round following the Forest River like every patrol would, like how they went below Mount Gundabad when she'd joined Legolas on his scouting quest the year before, and now there weren't even more than a couple of goblins to slay. Their present journey could've almost been deemed pleasant if not for the stuffy and windless air under dense vegetation that blocked out sunlight and presented shadows of bats they've decided better not to disturb. Then suddenly, there was light as the forest ended abruptly and chilly air cut into her face, none of which slowed Thranduil one bit. On open terrain haste was of course advisable, yet it seemed clear that there was more to it, nothing to do with the impending night either. They have virtually left Mirkwood behind, no guard would be following to be the cause of the king's hurry, but on second thought that Tauriel had plenty of time for, his haste seemed more like organised purpose. She just had to hope that that was it, and his quietness and urgency had nothing to do with not feeling well and wanting the leg of the journey over with.

Thranduil led her decisively towards a mountain pass, not a destination Tauriel would've chosen in any case for the risk of it being a perfect place for an ambush, to an extent she found herself wondering if the length of the time the Elvenking spent cooped up in his Halls had taken a toll on his scouting abilities and whether she should question him, but right before they've reached the feet of the mountain range, he turned left and round a massive boulder and the younger elf realised with no little surprise that there was another, lot smaller path down there, not through the mountains, but leading into a cave inside it.

They passed unobstructed and after just one blind turn, there were sporadically placed torches leading the way, just enough to make it possible not to make the wrong step, solid ground being often highly questionable, without the clearly paved passages of elven or Erebor underground abodes. Thranduil dismounted to lead the horse and Tauriel followed his example, a short while before it became unquestionably necessary, given the ceiling closed in on them to an extent she pondered how they would encourage the animals to bend their knees to get through some of the lower archways when her own head bumped into the ceiling. It didn't hurt as much as it should've so she extended a hand in the near darkness to investigate and her touch found wood above her. Smooth, rectangular, treated wood, above and at the sides, structures held up by wider pillars, clearly made for and commonly used in mines. "The dwarves," she remembered. The Grey Mountains were dwarven territory before the dragon wars that forced them to abandon their strongholds. "What were they mining here?" Her curiosity got the better of her, thoroughly impressed that he knew of shelter on habitually enemy territory.

"Gold ore around these parts, I believe." Thranduil's voice sounded deeper as if in tandem with the darkness and the steady slope they've manoeuvred since the cave entrance. "But the mountain range is rich throughout. Many ores were extracted from gemstones to coal and salt."

"They still are." Another, brash voice established, its owner obstructing their way into a large underground hall. He was shoving his torch into their faces to see them, but in the glow they could also perceive that it was a portly dwarf, distinguished by a beard as long as they go and a pong that would prove dangerous in jeopardy as his adversaries would smell his whereabouts. "And they belong to Durin's Folk if you mind," he threw his torch onto a stone ledge, position which allowed reasonable visibility for all of them. He brandished an axe instead he pulled from his belt.

"We don't mind," Thranduil stepped forward and placed a hand on Tauriel's on her hilt of her knife he encouraged her not to pull. "We're here for the rail."

"The what?" The dwarf roared incredulously. Tauriel felt it was an appropriate response she would've wanted to echo herself, along with his, "the rail?"

"Dayamu Khuzan-ai menu. Naruk ferug." The blond elf extended casually.

Tauriel suppressed the need to gasp. Not many elves, including herself knew any dwarvish and the king was the most unlikely candidate. The dwarf narrowed his eyes and shook his head, but the axe was lowered somewhat. "Nobody uses the password anymore. In Gloin and Nain's time perhaps. What else have you got to endorse yourselves."

"So the line's still in use?" Thranduil negotiated.

"Maybe," the dwarf allowed, "for a good price."

"Gems or charms?"

"I'd say both," the dwarf bartered, "seeing as I've never seen an elf use these passages. The enchantment won't let anybody see the entrance unless they know it's there. Care to explain that." He stuck his axe into the wood inches from Thranduil's face. "The orcs haven't found it for a thousand years passing by it every day."

"The explanation is simple," the visitor clarified calmly, though Tauriel could see he had no patience for being interrogated. "A kingdom that flourished you wouldn't remember, dwarves that used to be convivial and pleased to show their wonders around, but I do. Thrain," he waved a dismissive hand, "the old one of course. I was invited to the inauguration." He looked lazily round, "it was different then, busy and merry."

"Immortals," the dwarf spat disapprovingly and reproachfully, but his hostility stayed level at that. "It has become busy again, believe it or not, after the battle by Dale, easier for travellers to come with the goblin numbers greatly reduced," he grinned his merriment, "we haven't resumed mining just yet so the price of the fare is high you see, to pay for my solitude here." He showed a distinctive and refined penchant for profit.

Thranduil produced two mumakil skin pouches and opened them for the mine guard to see, one full with shiny silver, the other with colourful gems. The dwarf nodded questioningly, so the newcomer pulled a handful of charms out the folds of his cloak as well, little bottle medallions, bracelets and adorned pins. "The potions should make you resistant to a dragon's spell for years, the rest are for general protection."

The dwarf looked long and hard at the paraphernalia, then shrugged, "a customer is a customer and a well paying one is a well paying client. There's one working carriage," he imparted, "that is currently being sent back from Angmar. You're in luck, it should be here by tomorrow or the day aft the very least. It's not easy getting it up the track to this level. Follow me," he pointed to his left and allowed them inside the great hall, in the dim light revealing ruins of what could've once possibly been rows of miner homes. "You can sleep in one of the old wagons in the meantime. Have you any good food?" He eyed the eagerly.

"Fruit, cheese, lembas," the redhead finally joined in the conversation seeing as Thranduil seemed to close off, having considered negotiations successful and done with and thus not looking as enthusiastic about the prospect of chitchat as he could've been when it was vital to the advancement of his plan.

"No meat? Typical," their host shook his head.

The elleth smiled. The dwarf's grunt was also typical and it reminded her of some precious short time she had spent in the company of his kind. "I'm Tauriel," she extended a note of friendship towards the smaller person, leaning to the side to avoid a ledge where the ceiling was lower.

The dwarf froze and turned to her, no longer leading them, but blocking their way once more. "You're Tauriel?" He looked her up and down and scrutinized at length to an uncomfortable extent by the end of which Thranduil inwardly bit his lip to keep himself in check and inhaled with nostrils flaring. It was unlikely the dwarf would turn hostile under the circumstances, but his demeanor annoyed the elf nevertheless, including the joyous, excited expression the mineworker settled on. "Friend of dwarves? I will say this, it would've been disturbing having an elf as our queen, but looking at you I can see what our prince saw in you. I would've accepted you as such," the dwarf winked at her, "if all that they say is true."

"What is it they say?" Thranduil felt the need to find out.

"Great things, traveller! You must know yourself?" The dwarf squinted suspiciously, but resumed the walk.

"I know that Tauriel's magnanimity and compassion doesn't have bounds, but details I do not," the disguised ruler tried.

"Oh, they say she helped our cause, protected and healed our people. They say she defied her king manifold, to stand by us." Then it looked like he came to a realization, hand smoothing his beard thoughtfully. "Is that why you're on the run?"

"We're looking for the prince," Thranduil supplied before Tauriel could answer, "he also helped you if you've heard about that," he added as incentive.

"The prince Legolas, aye, I've heard something. Mind ye, he might not be as lenient when he's the king. You can't trust an elvenking, never, in any circumstances," the dwarf gave them a sneaky sideglance, as if only just becoming conscious that it was elves he was talking to. "Well, here," he pointed to a wagon that was turned to the side, "you can spend the night in there. Myself, I have some hunting to do for dinner," he left them without further ado, they could only hear him grumbling quietly from a distance. "Fruit they said," he muttered.

"You fair have a way with princes. Queen of the dwarves is it now?" Thranduil couldn't help commenting admonishingly.

"I had nothing to do with that," Tauriel defended herself, but there was no need. Her king looked nothing but amused as he looked around the dim and malodorous container they were meant to be sleeping in. "I'll get the horses' fodder," she offered, mostly to get out of that one.

Tbc

Dwarvish (Khuzdul) Glossary:

Dayamu Khuzan-ai menu - Blessings of the Ancestors Upon You
Naruk – coin
Ferug – mining pick