Jasmine and Kili entered the dining hall a few moments after Elle and Thorin did. The hall was composed of beautiful, intricate architecture, and there were wooden high-backed chairs and tables that decorated the hall's pristine white floor. Jasmine remembered eating dinner here in this very hall when she was a little girl, and had to gulp down the memories before she broke down again.
At the center of the room, she could see that the company of dwarves, excluding Thorin and Gandalf, were sitting at the largest table, all looking quite different with their newly washed faces and silken suits.
At the "high table" at the far end of the room, there sat Lord Elrond, looking as regal and commanding as ever in his golden wreath and flowing robes. His eye caught her's when she and Kili entered the room, his face displaying the same concern and confusion that he had shown when they had first met at the gates of Rivendell. Gandalf and a rather reluctant Thorin sat beside him.
Elle, Jasmine could see, was sitting between Dwalin and Fili, laughing and, by the looks of it, making the other two of them chuckle as well.
"Oi!" Fili waved his brother over, his eyes widening slightly when he saw Jasmine at his side. "Jasmine? Is that you?"
At this comment, any noise in the hall ceased immediately, and all eyes turned to Jasmine, who promptly flushed bright scarlet. Where is that Goddamn hood when I need it?
Next to Gandalf and Thorin, Jasmine saw Elrond flinch, hearing her name likely making him remember who she was. She prayed that he wouldn't reveal her hidden identity in front of all these elf-hating dwarves.
"Lass… why…" Balin chortled, snapping her out of her frightened thoughts. "You cleaned up quite well."
"If I were a few decades younger…" Bifur said wistfully, gazing at her with misty eyes.
"Eww, gross," Jasmine gagged before she could stop herself, much to the amusement of the dwarves-and even Bifur.
"Come, sit next to us," Fili waved Kili and Jasmine over to the two empty chairs besides him.
The table in front of them was piled high with baskets of green vegetables and light bread. Besides that, there was hardly anything but small glasses of Elvish wine.
"This establishment is a joke," Dwalin grumbled angrily (and rather loudly), twirling a leaf-that was supposedly edible-in his hand. "Light wine and bread. And these ridiculous vegetables. Where's the meat?"
"Aye," Fili moaned, throwing the bread he had been nibbling on back onto his plate. "I'd do anything for some good mead right now."
"The dwarves don't seem pleased with our hospitality," Lord Elrond said, hopefully not too bitterly, to Gandalf.
"Who would be?" Thorin volunteered, just as harshly.
"There are some, Thorin Oakenshield," Lord Elrond began, narrowing his eyes at the egotistical dwarf prince, "Who would be honored to stay in the Last Homely House, and would view it as a great pleasure."
"And who would those people be?" Thorin spat. "More elf-scum?"
"Thorin!" Gandalf thundered, turning a few heads from the main dwarf table a few paces away. "You will respect your host!"
"I am not a child, Gandalf," Thorin huffed.
"Well, you are acting like one!" Gandalf reprimanded, causing the dwarf to emit a low growl.
"What might be your business here?" Elrond asked, trying to lead the conversation onwards in a somewhat diplomatic manner. As much as the dwarves often angered him, he was determined not to lose his cool.
"It is none of your concern," Thorin said brusquely in response. But after a warning look from Gandalf, he added, "We are journeying to the Lonely Mountain," in somewhat of an undertone.
Erebor? They would not dare…
"You wish to reclaim the mountain?" Elrond asked.
"Yes," Gandalf supplied, before Thorin, whose face was turning slightly purple, could say anything else.
"There are some who would not deem it wise," Elrond said warily. "The dragon Smaug has not been seen for fifty years-"
"He is dead," Thorin growled hoarsely. "The beast rotted away in his halls of stolen gold long ago."
"I would not be so sure," Elrond said, more to himself than to the angry dwarf and perplexed wizard in front of him. After a long silence, he said, "An interesting choice of company, Gandalf. The dwarrowdam and the el-I mean, woman?"
At this, Elrond looked over at the main table, his eyes meeting those of Jasmine, as the company had called her, and who he seemed to remember for some odd reason. She is an elf, if I am not mistaken, he thought to himself. When did I know her? Why do I recognize her?
And then it came to him. All in a flash of memories.
He remembered the sound of a little girl laughing, of his own panting as he chased playfully after her. We're playing hide-and-go-seek, he realized, as the child in his memories turned back to look at him. A great smile played across the face of a joyful little girl, her brown eyes twinkling with more light than the starry sky itself. Her mane of dark hair was pulled back in a braid, which, he remembered, her mother had spent a good twenty minutes forcing her into.
When he looked at the face of the woman-Jasmine-sitting at the other table, he saw that same girl, the one who looked for pretty mushrooms by the ponds and who drove her parents crazy with her constant chatter, only with the light he remembered being etched into her face and features now completely extinguished.
The woman looked back at him now, her eyes wide with fear, a flurry of vicious scars decorating her bare arms, and her Elven ears disguised cleverly beneath secure braids. She's changed, Elrond knew, his eyes misting slightly. Perhaps it's all been for the best. Maybe she's better now.
But when he looked at her pained, anguished face, he knew that it all hadn't been for the best. She wasn't better now. I should have been there for you, my dear Muindes. I should have been there.
"Elrond kept staring at you throughout the dinner," Elle remarked, once they had settled back into their private quarters. Elle was seated on the ground, brushing her long hair, while Jasmine was lying on top of her bed, still clothed in her dinner attire. She had been too tired-to distracted-to take it off yet.
Jasmine chose not to respond to Elle's comment. She had noticed the elf lord's stares throughout their meal as well, but didn't want to reveal anything to Elle. Information-even the slightest of tells or the most delicate of falters-was deadly in the hands of the Sage.
"Fine," Elle huffed. "Keep your secrets. I know you know what's going on, though."
And it was true. Jasmine knew what was going on. But thinking about Lord Elrond conjured up too many painful memories, which was why she continued staring up at the ceiling, trying to silence the warring emotions inside her.
"We're only about a week into our quest, Jasmine," Elle snorted. "And already you've been found out by Lord Elrond. You won't last another day at the rate your cover is being blown."
"And you think your disguise is clever?" Jasmine snapped, sitting bolt upright and shooting a glare at the dwarf.
"What? I-" Elle stammered, obviously taken aback. "Of course I do!" At Jasmine's raised eyebrow, she added crossly, "It's better than yours!"
"Kili's already suspicious of you," Jasmine told her, too angry and annoyed and full of unwanted emotions to care that she was likely relaying valuable information to the untrustworthy Sage.
"Kili?" Elle smirked. "Your lover? I imagine he'd tell you anything you wanted to hear if it meant he-"
"You want to talk about love?" Jasmine interjected hotly. "I don't know how you plan to seduce Thorin, but I can tell you that you've got an awfully twisted mind if you think it's alright to go marrying someone and then assassinating them and their family right after!"
"Like you're one to talk!" Elle retorted, bristling. "You're about to kill off the entire Durin line too-and just for your own silly revenge!"
"Silly revenge?" Jasmine repeated, her eyes flaming.
But before either of them could go on any longer, Gelluinith, one of their Elven guides from earlier, popped her head into their room. "Is everything alright in here?" she asked worriedly. "I head yelling."
"Everything's fine," Elle said sweetly, shooting Jasmine an angry glance out of the corner of her eye.
Gelluinith nodded, and then turned to Jasmine. "Lord Elrond would like to see you in his study," she said. "I have been assigned to escort you there."
With a reluctant couple of steps, Jasmine followed the elf out their door and into the cool night, leaving Elle alone in their bedroom.
Elle watched Jasmine go, her rapidly beating heart stilling as she heard the door click shut.
Putting down the hairbrush, Elle walked slowly over to her bed and opened her knapsack, which hung from one of the bedposts. Rummaging inside for a few seconds, she quickly found the bottle of clear liquid in the most secluded inside pocket of the pack.
It was poison. Three doses of it. One for each member of the Durin line.
Her plan had always been to marry into the throne, and then to stage a tragic accident that killed off the Durin line, leaving her as the only one capable of ruling Erebor. She would be Queen, alongside no other.
She had seemed so confident in her plan before she'd set out on this quest, and yet, the longer she spent with the company, the more wary she grew.
And fighting with Jasmine... well, it had gotten her thinking.
Could I really kill three people? She had never killed anyone before-and the very thought of being the one to end someone's life made her inside clench and her palms sweat. She almost dropped the bottle of poison, but quickly caught herself before she let it shatter on the ground beneath her.
Elle had grown quite fond of Fili, and, even though he might doubt her, as Jasmine had told her, Kili seemed to like her as well. She viewed them as her nephews now, just as Thorin viewed them.
Thorin.
Could she really kill him?
She thought back to all the times that those piercing blue eyes had softened when they reached her own. When he had almost reached out to touch her but quickly stopped himself out of nervousness. When he had given her his cloak to keep warm during an especially frigid night.
Elle hadn't known Thorin for long, but she knew enough about him to know that he didn't trust people easily. His trust was a sacred thing, and those who earned it should have known well not to throw it away.
And yet I want to throw it away, Elle thought to herself, looking between the bottle of poison and her own reflection in the mirror above her bed. She imagined how his face would look if he ever learned of her schemes to kill him and his dear nephews. She imagined how he would scream at her, threaten her, or worse, never speak to her again. She imagined how Fili and Kili would look at her with an air of new disgust and disdain, recoiling from her once warm and loving touch.
Could she bear to see that happen?
Looks like Elrond and Jasmine are having a little sentimental, emotional moment and Elle is second-guessing her intentions! Do you think either of them will actually go through (or try to go through) with any of their plans?
Also, "Muindes" is Jasmine's Elvish name, for those of you who were wondering. You'll learn more about that in the next chapter. :)
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