Disclaimer: The Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings and all characters therein are the property of the Tolkien Estate and Wingnut Films. This story is for entertainment only and the author is in no way profiting from it, nor exercising any claims to The Hobbit or Lord of the Rings.

Diplomacy, Elven Style

It might have descended immediately into threats and drawn weapons had three familiar figures not come to the fore, only one of whom was elven. Prince Legolas, late of Mirkwood, now of the elven colony in Ithilien, rode forward, two ponies pacing him with Gimli and his wife, Thorin's niece, Lis, on them.

"Legolas."

Thorin inclined his head in the respectful meeting of equals, ignoring the grumbles coming from the troops nearest him, who were not of Erebor, but of the Broadbeams and Firebeards who'd settled in the north of the Blue Mountains.

"Lord Durin. I am pleased we were able to catch up with you."

"Catch up? I had not known you were invited!"

The somewhat heated exclamation burst from his left before the king could reply and Thorin cast a quelling glare at his youngest nephew, but the lad ignored him, locking eyes with his twin. Behind them, there was a rumble of agreement from some of the other dwarrow, quickly silenced, no doubt by a glowering Dwalin. Few indeed were the dwarrow hearty enough, or fool-hearty, as the case may be, to take on the legendary Warmaster of Erebor!

Young Therin, however, was solely focused upon his own goals, ignoring what was taking place nearby, a bad habit Thorin had yet to break him of. Instead, the prince was doing his best to sit proud and regal upon his pony, who, it seemed, took a dim view of such proceedings, shying so that Therin had to clutch at the reins to keep from ending up in the dirt even as he tried to sound commanding and mature to his sister. Had they not had the elven audience, Thorin might have burst into laughter at the lad.

"I had not thought to need one."

Gimli rebuked his marriage-brother sharply, already glowering, though there was a sadness to the expression that told Thorin more was at work here then the dwarf warrior looking for a fight. Unless angry, the younger dwarf almost always had a smile on his face, a cheerfulness that was noticeably lacking at the moment. By the restless stir on his other side, the king could tell that Fíli and Kíli had also noted the unusual behavior, but sitting in the middle of a confrontation was hardly the place to quiz the other about it.

"You don't."

Thorin told him, including Legolas in the nod and getting a satisfied grunt in return, but Therin was now after another target.

"And you, sister, what are you doing here? An army is no place for a dwarrowdam without great need."

Lis merely raised an eyebrow, one hand upon her husband's arm to prevent the fiery red-head from raging further at Therin's haughty attitude. The girl had the same level head on her shoulders as Dis, though thankfully without quite so much of the temper!

"I ride home with my husband, brother, and met Legolas upon the road. We were summoned to Erebor. Svass succumbed to the fading three weeks ago." A deep sadness overtook her countenance, golden hair ruffling gently in the breeze as tears came to her eyes. "It was very quick, only three days after onset."

"What?" Kili's cry was sharp with worry. "Why did Ves or Austri not send word? Fíli and I would have returned immediately if we'd known their mother was dying!"

Thorin bowed his head briefly in respectful silence, others following suit as the news spread in whispers down the ranks. Many knew and counted Glóin a friend, grieving at the thought of that great dwarf losing the love of his life. The fading eventually took all dwarrow who did not die of accident, wounds, or one of the rare diseases to affect their race. It was a quick process, usually mere days or a few weeks passing between the onset and death, the dwarf enjoying good health even in old age until then. Only the call of the birds and the rush of the wind from the heights was heard for several long moments, and then Thorin and the princes raised their heads, Fíli giving voice to the thoughts running through his uncle's mind.

"If it was so fast, how did you two get from Aglarond to Erebor in time?"

Gimli cleared his throat, voice rougher than normal as he blinked back tears of his own. Though he'd always put up a stoic front, those closest to Gimli knew the warrior concealed a tender heart, joys and sorrows raging through him as strongly as his temper. The wound of losing his mother would be a long time in healing, but had he still been in the south when it happened…

"The eagles. They said that they owed a debt to our families, and bore us to Erebor in partial repayment." His dark eyes lit on the older princes, reassuring. "My sisters forbade anyone from sending you word, saying that you had other responsibilities that must take precedence, a duty to our people. Vili and Dis made sure they were looked after as you would have done had you been there, brothers."

At Thorin's raised eyebrow, Fíli smiled wanly, fiddling with his reins as Kíli fidgeted as if he wished to make a gesture to silence his brother, but dared not.

"Last winter, the stones told Kíli of an eaglet, newly fledged, who'd misjudged the currents around the peak and smashed into the rocks, injuring a wing. Since he'd not told his older, and wiser, kin what he'd meant to try, there were none around to rescue him. Our wives and I went up, bringing what aid we could to keep him comfortable until word could be sent. We'd no idea the young one was Gwaihir's grandson!"

The king grunted, shaking his head at them as Kili's head ducked, face flushing a bit. No doubt it had been he, and not the princesses, who insisted that they go up when he could not, unable to bear the thought of a fellow thinking creature alone and in pain.

"And your elven escort?"

The growl came from Dwalin, who, while tolerating Legolas, still had less use for elves then even Thorin. Predictably enough, Gimli stepped back, allowing the elves to answer for themselves, but it was not the prince who spoke, a stir among the other riders allowing another to pass. Thorin could do little beyond allow his face to harden into an expressionless mask as Lord Celeborn made his way forward, giving the king and his heirs a polite incline of the head.

"It came to my attention that you sought allies to aid in reclaiming Khazad-dûm, Lord Durin. I bring elves from not only my own forest, but also from Imladris and from the colony in Ithilien. All are used to working with those not of our own kind, and will follow your direction, though Prince Legolas will serve as their leader under that until such time as he must accompany Lord Gimli and Lady Lis south, when my grandsons will take over."

The twin dark-haired sons of Elrond rode one step forward, gracefully inclining their heads at their grandsire's words. For some reason he could not fathom, the sight of the two actually reassured the dwarrow king slightly, though he allowed no alteration to his expression, having grown to at least tolerate the duo upon his encounters with them. Normally, he would have greeted those two and Legolas with at least basic courtesy, but now he ignored them completely.

Instead, Thorin's chin came up as he kept his gaze solely on Celeborn, allowing him to look at the other out the tops of his eyes as he refused to crane his neck like an undignified child, cursing the elf's subtle power play in not dismounting his horse to put them upon an equal level. Despite his friendship with others of the Durins, Celeborn seemed intent upon intimidating him, and Thorin had no intention of allowing it to work. Even as he eyed the taller being, he gave a snort of contempt, making several of the elves close behind their lord flush with anger.

"Your words speak of friendship and alliance, but your actions betray you, telling only of contempt. As you said, it was no secret that I gathered arms to retake Khazad-dûm, nor was our army moving so swiftly that you could not easily intercept us before we stood upon the threshold. What value should I place upon those assembled in haste as mere show?"

While several of the elves nearest, including Legolas and the twins, blanched, others sneered, shaking their heads at the dwarrow, the army behind Thorin bristling in its turn. Hands tightened on weaponry, the air rife with violence about to explode. The dwarf king, however, watched only his adversary, noting the barest hint of triumph reflected in steel grey eyes. His suspicions confirmed, Thorin straightened, allowing a hint of mocking smile to grace his lips.

"A better question, perhaps, would be 'What will you do if I actually accept your offer as opposed to the angry and insulting dismissal you thought to provoke?'"

The elf lord showed no reaction, but it was not he that Thorin was testing at the moment. There was a gasp from one of the twins; Thorin thought it was Elrohir, while Elladan gave his grandfather a wounded and slightly angry glare. Legolas just rolled his eyes, giving Gimli a reassuring nod when his friend put a restraining hand on the elf's arm. So, the young ones had not known of or not seen the games being played, good. That made the decision Thorin was faced with much easier, though he must tread the path carefully, his own side now needing to be subtly handled.

"I did not ask for aid from the elves for a purpose, Lord Celeborn. There are many among my army who still recall the actions of Thranduil and the suffering that resulted." He did not feel the need to mention that he was at the head of that list. "With relations at last progressing between our peoples, I did not wish to chance an unfortunate incident with those whose blood will be running hot and have weapons to hand."

It was Legolas who elected to respond this time, a slight smile upon his lips, as if he found the dwarf king's careful language amusing. For that matter, he probably did, having grown up in the somewhat convoluted and treacherous environment of Thranduil's court and elvish politics. The prince of the Greenwood, Thorin had noted, often displayed a slightly odd sense of humor for an elf, or he and Gimli would have come to open blows upon leaving Rivendell with the Fellowship, despite Gandalf.

"We will stay amongst the Men, Thorin, but I believe you will have need of us. How did you intend to cross the expanse missing from the Bridge? You have seen my agility with such things, and I assure you, I am not the most agile of my kin."

The king's proud head came up, eyeing the prince.

"That point is a telling one, Legolas, but this is not a decision to be made lightly."

"If you fear the depth of our commitment, Lord Thorin, you need not. We have many a score to settle with the orcs and goblins hiding in the depths of your ancient realm, and we will confine our animosity to them."

One of the two sons of Elrond spoke for the first time, sending his elder another purse-lipped glare as he did so. Thorin waved that away, having had no doubt as history clearly recorded the reason for that hatred. Losing kin to that filth had always been one of the cornerstones upon which the tentative relations between elf and dwarf rested, as having a common foe proved an excellent equalizer. He was not surprised to feel a hand touch his arm, and to see Fíli's serious blue eyes regarding him with words unspoken within. Another hand, and he was amused to note that Kíli had moved at the same time as his older brother, with the ever opinionated Therin hovering behind, just out of reach.

"I take it that the three of you have thoughts upon this matter? Excuse us for a moment."

With that, the king turned to deal with the other side of this tangled knot, wishing he dared to solve it with a swipe of Orcrist's gleaming blade.