Chapter 15: Bells
Thranduil knew it was noise that woke him, but at first, wasn't sure what it was. He was lying on the hard ground with a blanket both under and over him that he had the urge to kick off himself. There seemed to be more torches lit close by and the light didn't favour the who knows what stains on his impromptu bedding. The king gathered himself to his feet with disgust and breathed through the rising nausea that somehow seemed easier to quell in the cleanliness of his royal quarters. Finally he spat and braced himself on the side of the wagon to stagger out and find out what all that annoying laughter was about.
To his chagrin, it looked like Tauriel was once again in the middle of being worshipped by a bunch of dwarves that gathered around her. Thranduil sighed and rolled his eyes, then willed himself to amble over and demand the other elf to be extricated out of the circle, given that by the looks of it, their transport, a shoddy wagon missing slates in some areas, had in fact arrived as promised and the quicker they could shake the dwarves, the better. "A word, please Tauriel," he half turned a disgusted wince into a smile and waved a hand in her direction. What he didn't expect in his disguise was to be recognised.
"You didn't say you were travelling with your king," one of the dwarves turned to whisper confidentially, leaning close to the elleth, but the sound was no match for Thranduil's elven ears.
"We mean no ill," Tauriel assured, "we're only trying to find the prince, Balin. Have you seen him?"
"I have not seen him, but the roads are busy like I've never seen. All creatures of Middle-earth wander out more since the forces of darkness have lost that battle, be that at a great price," he admitted, putting a hand on Tauriel's arm as a sign of comfort and fellow feeling.
"He might be far by now. Would you mind giving us the rundown on how to work this contraption?" She urged. Glad as she was to see some old friends, now that Thranduil was awake, it was best leaving potential conflicts behind.
"Of course," Gloin volunteered immediately and jumped up to the contrivance in question. You have an easy journey down the way. We will give you a wee push and most of the time the slope will do its work. There is a lever here," he pointed, "to slow the beast down, but I do not recommend it. You will meet cavedwellers you don't want to have to battle while you're too busy working these other two levers to get the wheels turning faster like we have to do all the way up. Use as little light as possible, you don't want to attract other creatures either. Keep to these principles and you will be in the Ettenmoors by sundown. There will be horses to swap to if you leave the ones you brought behind."
"I can see you have a system all worked out," Tauriel praised, incredulous and marvelling at the accomplishment of dwarves she never knew of.
"All so glad to see you," Dwalin nodded at her, keeping a head while wanting to join in with the others who took a more physical approach to welcoming her.
Tauriel smiled warmly at them and let Balin and Dori help her up into the wagon. Thranduil didn't have to be told to hurry. He had to gather by now that these were the very same dwarves he once had in his dungeons and all the displayed sentimentality was turning his stomach more than withdrawal symptoms. He gathered their little amount of belongings from their sleeping accommodations quicker than he would've expected from a servant and made towards the group that thankfully parted for the deed.
"A little dangerous to travel in this manner is it not?" Dwalin commented in his direction, feeling empowered by the presence of his comrades and their being on his motherland.
"One might call it trespassing," Balin called to attention, him being the one who spoke up when they faced the elvenking with the occasion of having been thrown into the dungeons in Mirkwood.
Thranduil largely ignored them. Petty comments did not deserve a response, especially not now when his cover was so spectacularly blown. He strolled through the gathering, head held high, or as high as the ceiling allowed. "Oh, mind the overhead on the track!" Gloin offered helpfully. "We ourselves need to watch it at times with low ceilings, you'd better stay sitting down at all times!" He advised. "Good journey!"
"Perchance lying down would be better," Dwalin held, "no part of you should go over the side of the wagon. It might be safer Tauriel," the dwarf did a perfect ignoring exercise of the elvenking's existence on turn.
"But then she would be lying with the king," Balin offered his disapproval.
"Do I have to pay you for a push to set the waggon into motion?" Thranduil had enough of offered opinions. He could advise Tauriel himself, he had been on the rails before.
The newcomer dwarves gave a collective chortle. "We have coins aplenty of Erebor," the old dwarf Balin supplied, "but a word that Tauriel would be treated with the utmost respect at all times would suffice."
"Your concern is misplaced, but I thank you for it," the elleth addressed them to diffuse the situation. "Is this where I find you, shall I try to visit you?" She volunteered as further peace offering.
"Aye, that is," Balin seemed displeased, "Dain might be the rightful king under the mountain, but he will never be for us," he explained their distancing from the capital, staying close and not joining his companions who released a lever in front and started pushing the carriage from the back.
"Do not forget to duck, as in, right now," Dwalin shouted at Tauriel who put a hand up in farewell as the wagon suddenly broke free, not needing any more assistance as it arrived to its first slope. Thranduil reached for her on instinct, not leaving it up to her reflexes and pulled her down, an arm around her as he positioned her against him, down in the safety of the veiling darkness of the bottom of the carriage.
Much room for fully grown elves there wasn't, and the confinement swiftly propelled them into a different world. One moment in the company of frenemies, the next the world consisted only of the two of them in a small wooden box with rushing planks and rock overhead, the other's breath and heartbeat filling their consciousness only, the rattling of the wheels an unreal, deceptive distance away. Tauriel's fingers curled into his cloak involuntarily. She wouldn't think she was frightened, but the locomotion was an unusual, novel experience that filled her with excitation. Or maybe that was the closeness of her king.
Tbc