"This was your plan all along," Thorin accused, "To seek refugee with our enemy!" Camellia couldn't help but agree.
"You have no enemies here, Thorin Oakenshield. The only ill-will to be found in this valley is that which you bring to yourself." Gandalf was angry, though he tried to hide it. And so, the dwarves marched on into Rivendell. No one was more upset with their location than Thorin, but Camellia was a close second.
Their arrival in Rivendell was unnoticed. A tall and lithe dark haired elf descended the stairs. He paid no heed to the dwarves when he spoke in a foreign tongue to Gandalf.
"Ah, Lindir." They greeted each other. Camellia took a step behind Fili. He noticed immediately and looked over his shoulder at her. She placed a finger on her lips. He gave a small nod and turned back. The elf spoke again in a foreign tongue. "I must speak with Lord Elrond."
"My Lord Elrond is not here." This was the first time he spoke in a language the dwarves understood.
"Not here? Where is he?" Before Lindir could answer, a horn sounded in the air. Everyone turned toward the bridge the dwarves, Bilbo and Camellia entered on. Soon, large horses could be seen galloping toward the city. Thorin muttered something in the dwarven tongue.
"Close ranks!" Thorin shouted for everyone to hear. The dwarves and Bilbo closed in around the centre of the tiled circle they stood upon. Camellia was pushed in closer and nearly completely concealed from the elven city by the dwarves that were much taller than herself. Horses of brown and white trotted around the huddled group. A top these beautiful creatures sat elves. Fair skinned, dark haired, pointed face elves. To Bilbo, and a fair deal of others, the elves were a beautiful people, but the dwarves and Camellia thought quite different.
"Gandalf," Elrond greeted.
"Lord Elrond," Gandalf responded. Gandalf began to speak in the foreign tongue. Elrond and Gandalf shared in a small conversation that none of the dwarves or Bilbo understood as Elrond dismounted. They shared in a small hug.
"Strange for orcs to come so close to our borders. Something, or someone, has drawn them near."
"Ah, that may have been us," Gandalf said as he motioned to the company. A very faint glare of hate shown in Elrond's eyes for half a second. Thorin stepped in front of the group, asserting himself as the leader.
"Welcome Thorin, son of Thrain."
"I do not believe we have met." A vague appreciation littered his tone. How did the elf know of Thorin?
"You have your grandfather's barring. I knew Thor when he ruled under the mountain."
"Indeed. He made no mention of you." There was the bitter and harsh tone. Camellia had to stifle a giggle. This row was entertaining. Elrond's eyes flickered to Camellia for a moment before returning back to Thorin. Elrond began speaking in that foreign tongue again. Tension was rising among the dwarves.
"What is he sayin'?!" Gloin asked, anger present in his voice, as he advanced. "Does he offer us insult?!"
"No, Master Gloin, he is offering you food." The dwarven company, save Thorin, gathered in a huddle to discuss. This discussion group made Camellia even more noticed.
"Well, in that case, lead on," Gloin said, all anger diminished. The best way to a dwarf's heart is through his stomach. The dwarves started walking toward Elrond, leaving the hiding Camellia unhid. She hurried on behind Kili and kept her head down as low as she could. As she passed Elrond, he whispered something to her in his foreign tongue. Camellia ducked her head down farther and rushed up the stairs.
They all sat at a low wooden table. Bowls upon bowls were set out, plates over-filled, but the dwarves remained hungry. This food in front of them was more foreign than the elven language. Only Bilbo and Camellia had dared to attempted to eat the food presented to them.
"Try it. Just a mouthful," Dori told Ori. Ori wrinkled his nose.
"I don't like green food," Ori said as he placed the large piece of lettuce back on his plate. Dwalin stuck his hand in the bowl in front of him and pulled out almost all of the lettuce.
"Where's the meat?" He threw the lettuce back in the bowl. He looked around as if someone was hiding it.
"There is none," Camellia responded. "Elves don't eat meat."
"Well, why not?" Dwalin asked, irritated.
"Elves respect all life. If they can avoid it, they don't slay animals for food."
"That's foolish."
"My father used to say that too," she muttered into her food.
"What was that?" Dori asked.
"Nothing," she responded as she stuffed food into her mouth. Elven music filled the air. Nori stuffed napkins in his ear horn to block out the sound. Gandalf and Elrond finally entered the hall and took their places at the head of the table.
Gandalf convinced Thorin to give up his newly found sword to Elrond. Elrond pulled the blade from its sheath and examined it for a short moment.
"This is the Orcrist. The goblin cleaver. The famous blade. Forged by the high elves of the west. My kin. May it serve you well." Thorin gave a small bow and took back the sword. Camellia stared at her empty plate as she listened to the music behind her. It was not so different from the music of her mother's people.
"This is the Glamdring," Elrond said as he took Gandalf's sword. "The Foe-Hammer. Sword of the king of Gondolin." Across the table, Bilbo pulled out his own sword.
"I wouldn't bother laddie," Balin told the hobbit. "Swords are named for the great deeds they do in battle."
"What are you saying, my sword hasn't seen battle?"
"I'm not sure it's a sword." Bilbo looked down at his sword. "More of a letter opener." The sword the Gandalf had found for Bilbo was very small. Small enough for a hobbit. To the Big people it would be nothing more than a letter opener or a bread knife.
"How did you come by these?" Elrond asked Gandalf.
"We found them in a troll hoard on the Great East road shortly before we were ambushed by orcs."
"And what were you doing on the Great East road?" A slight irritation was present in Elrond's voice as he turned toward Thorin during his question.
All of the company, except for Thorin and Balin, were relocated to a large open room. A small fire burned in the centre of the floor. In spite of their current location, the dwarves seemed to be genuinely enjoying themselves. They were all laughing and joking and had even had Bombur fall through a table. In the midst of all the chaos, Camellia snuck out the door.
She wandered under the rising moon along the river. Her shoes were long discarded inside the room at the top of the tower with all the dwarves; her trousers were rolled up to just under her knee. She watched the water lap around her porcelain feet. Her charcoal stick brushed against the parchment book in her hand as she sketched the sight before her.
When the moon was high in the sky, Camellia had sat down at the water's edge. By the city's light, she began to etch the face of her attractive company mate.
"Camellia, what are you doing here?" A voice called out. She quickly shut her book and shoved it into her bag.
"Relaxing."
"Did you come here with the dwarves?" A tall female sat next to Camellia.
"Yes. Why are you here, Arwen?"
"The colour of your hair is not easy to miss, even in the moonlight. Have you been travelling like that?" Arwen motioned to Camellia's attire.
"Yes. With my height, none of the soldier's attire fit. I fixed it as well as I could." Arwen grabbed Camellia's hand and pulled her up. They walked back up to the city.
In two hours' time, Camellia was sent back in one of Arwen's old dresses and three new sets of clothes tailored just for Camellia's strange silhouette and her original outfit adapted. When she arrived back at their room, everyone was passed out on the floor. Their snores were so loud, they didn't hear the door close or her shuffling across the floor around the sleeping bodies. Once her modified clothes were packed in her bag and a blanket was pulled out, Camellia went to sleep.
A cool breeze blew through the room. The fire had been long extinguished. Bilbo had been awoken first. When he had fallen asleep, the room was warm and a bit stuffy, but now, the fire was gone and the room was cold. He retrieved his blanket and fell back to sleep before too long. Groups of two or three would wake up, pull a blanket over them and fall back to sleep. No one had noticed the little red head had returned. Very few had noticed she left at all. When Kili woke up, he rolled over onto his side and noticed Camellia was curled up next to him. She looked a lot different. Her normal green and brown archer outfit was replaced with a light blue long sleeve dress. Her hair was pulled back into a braid that was now falling out. Stray hairs stuck to her face and in the air. Kili didn't know how long he had stared at her or why he had woken up in the first place. The moonlight caused her skin to glow more than usual and he couldn't help but think that she looked even more beautiful in her sleep.
"Kili…" Her voice broke his thoughts. "I can't sleep when you're staring at me." She opened one eye. She didn't realise how close he was. It startled her, but she tried not to show it. If either one of them breathed a bit harder, the other one would feel it on their face. "What woke you?"
"I don't know. What woke you?"
"Your unrelenting gaze." Both of her light blue eyes stared into his warm brown ones. "I don't know what you're trying to accomplish, but no matter how hard you stare, you're not going to burn a hole." A faint red surfaced on his cheeks. "Go back to sleep. We have a long day ahead of us." Camellia rolled over. Kili thought he saw a misshapen top of her ear, but he assumed it was just the way the light was.
Dwarves don't have pointed ears.