Building the barricade in and of itself around the front gate took about as much time as one would expect, if not longer; using abandoned mining tools found deep in the mountain, the dwarves hewed and carved the rock to further its strength, while Elsa added her own touch by casting ice upon the wall, potentially reinforcing it far more than simply stacking layer upon layer would've done. But all the while, Elsa questioned the purpose behind this effort; the obvious answer was maybe to protect against marauding orcs, and it was the one that she wanted to go along with. But Thorin hadn't said who it was that they were to be expecting nor why he had summoned reinforcements, and given what she had seen earlier, she suspected other, less benevolent motives.
At the moment, she didn't dare breathe a word to the other dwarves; she didn't feel sure about how well they would react if she revealed any inkling of doubt.
At long last, the end of the day was reached, and the front gate was fortified; as the sky above began to darken and the shadows cast by the mountain stretched to consume everything in their path, the company retreated into the vast halls, lighting torches and lamps to illuminate their way through the dark, cavernous interior. Finding any food that had managed to stay fresh and untouched by the dragon and/or other vermin for almost two hundred years seemed to out of the question, but they did manage to find small biscuits called cram, so the company was forced to rely on these and the rations that had been provided to them prior to setting off from Lake Town. Elsa was hardly fond of how tough and stale the biscuits were, let alone the taste, and worried over how long that would last them, but the other dwarves weren't quite as worried; the idea was that Dain and his army would bring plenty of rations along, and given that the Iron Hills weren't very far away, they didn't have too long to wait for said rations.
The company hardly saw Thorin at all; when Elsa asked where he was, Balin replied with a barely hidden melancholy that he was in the hall where Smaug had hoarded all the gold and treasure, along with Bilbo, who was, after all, the burglar. But it wasn't until late at night when the embers had cooled to a soft glow that the Dwarf King and the hobbit returned to the group, who had fallen fast asleep—save for Elsa, who only pretended to do so. She saw through half-closed eyes an unsatisfied look in Thorin's countenance, and the fear and anxiety in Bilbo's. And all the while, the dragon's words echoed in her mind…did it really take one jewel to spark such an obsession? But surely it hadn't been the thought of the Arkenstone alone…
Elsa awoke late into the cold dark of the night—not that it bothered her very much. The rest of the company was fast asleep and snoring away (perhaps that was what woke her up, though she had become somewhat accustomed to it), save for Thorin, who seemed to be missing. Either way, it suited her purposes; after grabbing a quick bite of cram to eat, and lighting a torch she got up on her feet and silently slid away from the rest, determined to see what the lost kingdom of Erebor was like for herself.
Careful to leave a trail of frost and ice behind her, she wandered aimlessly through the massive halls, up and down stone stairways, and across bridges overhanging chasms that seemed to go down for miles upon miles, glittering with veins of gold and other metals running like rivers through the rock. The experience was a bittersweet one, because for every instance of beauty and majesty that she found, there was evidence of the destruction that Smaug had wrought upon the place in its heyday; the walls and pillars, etched with dwarven runes and emblems, had been rubbed smooth presumably because of the dragon's hide weathering them with its passage, or in the case of the latter been knocked down entirely; scorch marks blackened entire passages with soot, forcing her to use cold winds to clear the way; but worse of all, she stepped inside some of the chambers and found the remains of dwarf men, women, and children. It was clear that there death had not been merciful that day; some were mere skeletons, their bones scattered around and clinging to whatever it was they had last grasped as they gathered dust and cobwebs, while others, trapped in chambers where exits had been sealed off by fallen stone, still bore the faces of their owners, blackened and charred by ancient fire.
Yes, it had surely happened years before she had been even born, but it was still enough to make her feel uneasy inside. She wanted to get away from there so badly, and yet she felt as though her feet were fastened to the ground, her eyes fixed on the corpses of the ancients…
"Elsa?"
She turned in surprise to find Bilbo standing in the doorway, concern showing in his eyes. "What are you doing, here?" he asked.
"I'm sorry, I couldn't sleep," she said, and then added, "And this place, it's so huge…"
"Tell me about it," the hobbit replied, "Good luck finding anything in here without getting lost yourself! Let's get out of this room."
They did so, gratefully, and continued on their way. Following Elsa's frost trail, they walked together through the darkness for some time, the void of silence broken only when they each had to tell let each other know when there was a bad step coming their way. How long it was, they did not know, neither did they care. But Elsa's mind was wrapped up in her own thoughts; so many questions, so many problems…
It was Bilbo who finally broke the silence. "Can I ask you something?" he asked.
"Of course," she replied.
"Well, I don't mean to sound rude or anything," he started, "But considering that, well, you are a queen and everything where you come from, let's be honest here, which means you're set for life as is. What I'm trying to say is, what are you still hanging around here for? The Quest is over! You should be going back to your kingdom— I don't mean to sound rude or anything like that at all…"
"It's alright, Bilbo," she said, "And you're right. When you get down to it, I really don't need so much treasure, and I should be going home, now. But I can't."
"Why not?"
"The Star Gems, Bilbo," she answered, "I need them if I'm to return to Arendelle."
"Oh, yes, that's right," Bilbo said, "I'd almost forgotten all about that…it doesn't seem like Thorin's in much of a listening mood, though." He then gulped nervously, and confessed, "I'm worried about him, Elsa. He hasn't been the same since we stepped in here; I came in here looking for the Arkenstone, and instead I found Smaug. But when I ran back, Thorin was at the exit, and all he could do was ask about the stone. But what if he finds it? What'll happen then? I'm afraid of him now, Elsa, I'm afraid of what he'll do."
More so than ever before, the dragon's words kept hissing in her mind. "So am I," she confessed.
But surely what Smaug had said wasn't true, right? Surely he had to have been trying to manipulate her; seeing the darkness in someone had to be a load of trash.
"…Then again, maybe we're both being paranoid" she said, "Maybe when it's found, things will turn out better."
"Yes, I suppose you're right," Bilbo agreed, though half-heartedly, "Anyway, we should be getting back pretty soon, before we're missed."
She agreed, and they were back up again on their feet, descending the staircase. But then Elsa paused in her footsteps; something else the dragon had said came to her mind now, something that caused even greater concern, something that for sure she had to prove to herself.
"Bilbo," she said, and he paused, having gone down the stairway some distance. "I've answered your question; would you answer mine?"
"Of course," he said, "anything you ask."
She hesitated to ask at first, resulting in a brief, almost certainly awkward pause. But surely he could trust her as much as she trusted him, she told herself. Maybe this would prove the dragon wrong after all.
She inhaled deeply, and then asked, very quietly, "What have you got in your pocket?"
At her words, Bilbo's eyes widened, as if he were an animal caught in a trap. His breaths started to come faster and faster, and his whole body stiffened. Beads of sweat started to erupt on his brow. One of his hands, trembling, started to reach into his coat…and plucked out something, which he held in his hand towards her. In his palm there sat a small acorn.
"Is that it?" she asked.
"Yes," he said, "I picked it when we were at Beorn's; when I get back home, I'll plant it in my garden, and every time I look at it, I'll remember everything that's happened."
She smiled at the words. "That sounds lovely," she said.
He nodded and grinned as he turned back down the steps…but then Elsa remembered something.
That acorn certainly wasn't made of gold.
Her own heart sank within her chest, disbelief and despair overwhelming her.
"…Bilbo?" she whispered, "Why?"
Just then, there was the faint sound of a horn blast echoing through the mountain hall, drawing their attention away. But it was no orc horn, Elsa knew that much.
At the same time, they heard footsteps ascending the staircase towards them, accompanied by the sound of clinking metal and deep panting, followed by the arrival of Bofur. "What are you two doing here?" he asked, exhausted in more ways than one, "Everyone's gatherin' up at the front battlements!"
"What's happening?" Elsa asked.
"There are people," the dwarf answered, "hundreds of them camped out in Dale! You have to see it!"
They followed Bofur back to the front, and ascended the staircase that led to the battlements. Sure enough, as they stepped into the cold pre-dawn air and joined the other dwarves, Elsa could see the ruined city filled with the glow of hundreds of torches and fires. There was little natural light to be had, but from what little there was, she was able to discern human figures walking in and out of their line of sight.
Thorin eventually arrived onto the scene as well. "What's going on here?" he demanded, "What is this?"
"Lake Men, it looks like," Balin answered, "They must have arrived sometime when we were asleep."
"Refugees," Elsa clarified, "They've come for shelter."
"And no one has been here to stand watch!?" Thorin scowled, "We're lucky they haven't overrun us already and taken the treasure themselves."
"But the Lake Men," Bilbo stammered, "They aren't our enemies; not all of them, anyway. Besides, Thorin, you made a promise to them!"
But Thorin ignored the hobbit, and started barking out orders; "Kili, Glóin, and Bifur, you take the first watch. Kili, if they try anything funny, have your arrow ready." He then turned to Elsa, grabbed her arm, and drew her close. "And Elsa," he whispered, "If anything happens, I want you, most of all, to be ready. Do you understand?"
"But Thorin, I…" she started.
"That's an ORDER," he said, and walked back into the mountain, leaving her behind.
This can't be happening, she thought to herself. Everything is falling apart.
None of them noticed, but the clouds began to swirl above the mountain, sending snowflakes down below.
The light of cold winter dawn came. Something else came with it, though; when they rose up the next morning, the company saw long rows of Elven soldiers in bright gold armor along the walls of the abandoned city and with them their own king, astride upon a massive elk with broad antlers the length of a man. Thranduil sat upon his steed expectantly, and Elsa felt as though he were looking straight in her direction. The entire company was out to meet them this time, especially Thorin, who had taken the opportunity to dress more like a king than he had before, wearing robes of fine black fur, bearing a crown upon his head, and wielding a fearsome staff.
Just then, a man upon a white horse galloped out from the city, pausing to speak with Thranduil. Even from this distance, Elsa recognized that brown coat; Bard, it had to be.
With what seemed like the granting of permission from the Elven King, the man galloped forward, coming right up to the gate.
Thorin then called out, "Who are you, daring to come to the gates of Thorin, son of Thrain, the rightful King under the Mountain?"
"Hail, King Thorin," he called out, "Why barricade yourself in this way? Surely we are not enemies, and if all goes well, we of all people rejoice at the sight of you alive and well. Do you not recognize your old ferryman from before?"
It was indeed Bard, still dark and grim-faced as ever, and still in his brown coat. She moved to greet him, but she found Glóin of all people holding her back. "No," he whispered, "Now's not the time. Let Thorin handle this."
"Of course," Thorin replied, "Bard the Bowman, no?"
"Indeed," the archer replied, "Bard, the descendant and rightful heir of Girion, Lord of Dale at the time the dragon attacked this land, and by my hand was the dragon slain. I come in behalf of the people of Esgaroth and of the elves of Mirkwood, to discuss certain matters with you."
"What would you have to parley, with?" Thorin demanded.
"There is much treasure to be found within that mountain," Bard said, "Do you not remember the welcome my people gave unto you when you arrived and declared who you were? They fed you, clothed you, and armed you. Do you not remember the promise you made unto the people of Esgaroth that they would share in the wealth of Erebor? Well now we need that promise to be fulfilled more than ever; my people are lying on the shores of the lake, hungry, homeless, and cold, because of the dragon that you let loose upon us, though I cannot presume intentionally. Fulfill your promise, Thorin Oakenshield; that is all we ask."
Yes, Elsa thought. Surely this would awaken Thorin's sense of honor and justice; he was not one to trifle with promises.
"I made that promise to unarmed men in a state of peace," Thorin replied, "We will pay you that which is due, in its due time. But I will give nothing to armed brigands and mercenaries, especially those allied with our captors, the elves, who have nothing invested here!"
Just then, Thranduil himself rode forward upon his exotic steed, followed closely by another elf upon a white horse, whom Elsa recognized as Legolas.
"It need not be so harsh between us," the Elven King said, "You know what it is that I desire; simply return it, and all will be well with us."
"Yes," Thorin said, "And what blood was shed on your behalf, may I ask? What kind service did Thranduil give unto us dwarves when we were first driven out of the mountain and left to wander the earth hungry, helpless, and cold? What elven blood was shed in defense of their old allies?"
Even from the distance she was at, Elsa could see a fire burning deep within the Elf Prince, though he did not show it through his expression. He rode forward, despite a piercing glance from Thranduil, and from his side, he pulled out and held an elven bow blackened and charred in places by fire and lacking a string. "Do you not recognize this, Thorin Oakenshield? This belonged to the Captain of the Mirkwood Guard. It was found in the ashes of Esgaroth."
It took a moment, but Elsa remembered the last time that she had seen that bow. Her hand covered a gasp. "No…" she whispered. It couldn't be.
She looked to her left, and through the heads of the other dwarves she saw Kili staring in horror and anguish at the bow, tears flowing from his eyes.
Above them, the clouds began to roil, and icy winds began to whip the mountainside.
Legolas went on, anger rising in his voice, "She was the one who found your tracks in the forest. She was the one who wanted to save you from the spiders. She was the first to engage the orcs in battle during your little escape. She was the one who followed those orcs to Lake Town, and she was the one who saved your kinsmen from certain death. Is THAT not a just cause for recompense? At the very least, honor her memory and show some mercy. Surely you can respect the valor of such a warrior."
Thorin was quiet for a moment. But it was for just a moment, and then he said, "You expect me to shed a tear, to give away a mountain of gold no less, over the death of one she-elf?"
At these words, Kili turned to look at his uncle in utter horror and disbelief. "No," he whispered, "she was NOT…just one elf."
Ignoring him, Thorin spoke to Bard, saying, "Send away these elves back to their beloved woodlands, put away your weapons, and then we shall talk. Until then, I declare this mountain besieged!"
Elsa expected to see at least some degree of anger in the archer's expression, but all she saw was cold disappointment. "We will return on the morrow," Bard warned, "and for now we will give you time to rethink what you have said. I do not wish for us to be enemies, Thorin; do not make it so." And with that, the three warriors turned back to the ruined city.
"Well, that went well," Bofur remarked.
Ordering several of the dwarves to stand guard, Thorin and the others went back into the mountain. Balin followed close behind the Dwarf King, saying, "Thorin, please, I beg you to reconsider. Fifteen of us cannot stand against a whole army; even when Dain's army arrives, we will still be outnumbered."
"We don't need to fight them," Thorin said, "We just need to outlast them."
"We won't be able to do that anyway!" Balin argued. "Winter is upon us, and our rations won't last for long."
"You forget, Balin, that winter is our ally, now," Thorin replied. He then turned to look at Elsa knowingly. "A blizzard would be enough to soften their resolve, wouldn't it?"
Everything inside of Elsa screamed out in refusal against this idea of his; how could she turn her own powers on those whom she had saved just days before? But before she could protest, Thorin had already departed.
As soon as he was out of earshot, Kili spoke up, turning his attention to Oin, Fili, and Elsa. "You knew, didn't you?" he said, his voice cracking in grief, "You knew she was dead, and you didn't tell me?"
"No, we didn't, brother!" Fili said, "She just up and left; we never knew what happened up until now!"
But Kili didn't seem to listen; with a stone cold expression, he took off in the opposite direction, Fili following in his footsteps.
Eventually, the other dwarves shuffled along to follow Thorin, leaving only Elsa and Bilbo behind. They stood there with their backs to the cold, biting wind that seemed to pierce Elsa's skin and burrow into her soul.
"What have we done?" she whispered, "I should never have come here."
"It's alright, Elsa," Bilbo said, "We'll figure something out. I'm sure of it….if only we knew how."