Leaving the throne room, Droin walked in the lead between Elluin and her father. The rest of the Dwarf company fell in behind, and two guards came behind holding additional lanterns. Night had now fallen and stars were beginning to reveal themselves in the sky, and soon the Elves of Greenwood could be heard singing. The younger Dwarves spoke among themselves. Though she understood none of their language, Elluin guessed they were speaking of how strange this place was. She wondered if these Dwarves, used to cavernous halls of stone always in measured, straight angles and designs, found any joy in their new surroundings. The Elvish telain visible from the winding path were built in odd shapes at varying heights, taking the best advantage of the natural shape of the trees in which they were built. Even the cottages and halls were built around trees, their crooked and twisting branches breaking up any geometric intentions. Based on the occasional grumbles from behind her, Elluin concluded that their opinion was not favorable.
After a few minutes' leisurely walk, the path to the guesthouse jumped onto a short, curving wooden bridge over a narrow stream. Elluin held back a gasp of pain as she took the first step onto the incline. Her deeper wounds were reopening. She bit her lip and coached the wince from her face as they continued, fervently hoping that the light bandages would be enough to hide the blood that had started to seep out until she could escape the Dwarves' observation. Her breaths became more labored and her father looked over, quickly realizing what had happened but finding no way to excuse her.
"Nearly there," Soronume said, sounding like a guide for the Dwarves but meaning the words as encouragement for his daughter. Soon the house came into view between the trees, built in typical wood-Elf fashion with thin planks of beech wood with an oak shingle roof. Lanterns hung invitingly by the door.
At a gesture from Soronume, the guards took their stations on either side of the entrance while he and his daughter accompanied the Dwarves inside. Elluin felt the telltale warmth of blood on her skin as she crossed the threshold. Nevertheless, she inspected the guest house with Droin to ensure everything was adequate, schooling her expression not to reveal the burning sensation coming from her leg.
Droin and his company nodded in satisfaction at seeing their weapons neatly stowed in a chest by the door, and the bounty of the table in the great room. A sitting area was right behind, where several low benches and couches were arranged around a cheerful hearth. She guided the Dwarf king down the single hallway, pointing out the bedrooms, which had been hurriedly but efficiently prepared with enough beds and cots. The other side of the hallway held a spacious bathroom containing a large hearth where three brimming pots of water hung, not yet warm enough to steam, with several buckets of river water waiting to fill the five waiting tubs. Elluin was glad to see that she had not needed to specify that high-set furniture in the house be replaced with shorter varieties. The Dwarves chatted amiably among themselves as they leisurely investigated the rooms then made their way to the table.
"You will be joining us for the meal, I trust, Master Elf?" Droin asked Soronume.
"How very kind," the ellon answered, desperately thinking of a persuasive excuse. "I am afraid we have prior engagements with King Thranduil."
"Nonsense, sit!" the Dwarf answered. "Elves live forever; he can wait a few hours."
"I will leave you to it, gentlemen," Elluin attempted. "My mother is unwell and she expects me to return swiftly."
"Just a quick morsel, then," Droin insisted, gesturing to an empty spot at the table as the rest of the company took their seats.
Resigned, the Elves walked to the table. However, Elluin was unable to hide a sharp intake of breath as she stooped to sit.
"Are you well, lady?" Droin asked. His sharp eyes scanned over her and noticed the specks of blood that had begun to seep through her dress. His rough voice rose in surprise. "What is this? Your leg is bleeding! What have you done? Mimbin, come!"
Before she or Soronume could protest, he and another slightly older Dwarf had unceremoniously grabbed her arms and plopped her down onto a soft couch close to the table.
"Mimbin knows a thing or two about healing," Droin said as the other Dwarf knelt before her.
Soronume fought the urge to snatch his daughter up and away. "You are very kind, but this is really not nece—"
"Up with the dress, then, lady," Mimbin mumbled. Not waiting for consent, he lightly tugged Elluin's dress up her wounded leg until it was bunched halfway up her thigh, ignoring her gasps of pain and squeaking protests.
"Hush! Let's have a look," Mimbin silenced her gruffly as he swiftly undid the bandage and studied the wound, having motioned for another Dwarf to bring one of the lanterns closer. Elluin met her father's concerned eyes with her own. She gave him a nod to calm him, but he moved to her side and rested a hand on her shoulder.
Despite his rough hands, the Dwarf was gentle as he worked a clean cloth over the blood on her skin. "This wound has been tended recently but it's reopened," Mimbin said mostly to Droin. "They look like they were made by Orc claws."
"They were," Soronume interrupted them to confirm darkly.
Droin and Mimbin looked at each other and the rest of the table quieted, as well.
Soronume kept a blank expression and said nothing further, knowing that words would not help their cause. Elluin did not move, still fighting the urge to shove her skirts back down and run out the door.
The silence lasted another few seconds as Mimbin examined the wounds again, mumbling in Dwarvish what seemed to be his hypotheses as he pointed in turn to the deep, half-stitched, and now steadily bleeding set of gashes on her thigh, the healing ones on her calf, and the lighter scratches toward her ankle. Suddenly, the Dwarves broke out in low conversation between themselves in their own rumbling tongue. Though Elluin and Soronume could not understand them, it seemed they were considering the truth of the claim that the Elves of Greenwood had not been responsible for the attack on their party, after all.
Droin still needed some confirmation. "How does an Orc come so close to an Elf-maid as to injure her like this?"
"By using a spell of concealment," she answered, forcing her thoughts into order through her discomfort. "Or rather, by traveling under a human sorcerer who could maintain such a spell."
The Dwarves listened carefully, eyes glittering in recognition. The Dwarf Lords often used spells of concealment on their treasure hoards, and knew they could be used on living things if the spell were powerful enough.
"Where was the Elven army?" Droin continued.
"Starting at shadows, at first," Elluin admitted. "The bulk of the forces only revealed itself once they were within a league of the palace, while the rest remained hidden and came thus even nearer, right by my family's home. It seemed they had meant to enter the palace itself, but King Thranduil lifted the spell and the soldiers of Greenwood were able to defeat them. My...injuries occurred as we were fleeing to the palace for refuge."
Silence reigned for another moment before Droin spoke, at last. "It takes great force to lift such a spell," he said. "Your king must be powerful, indeed."
"He is," Elluin said. "For all his faults, he is a good king. He does whatever he must to care for his people."
Droin sighed. "Well, that can be respected," he mused, crossing his big arms in front of his chest. It said much that an Elf-woman who had been attacked in her own realm would still speak highly of her ruler.
A knock on the door surprised them all. The door opened at once to reveal King Thranduil. His eyes widened as he saw Elluin's slowly bleeding leg bared to the pair of Dwarves beside her. A tinge of color sprang to his cheeks as he furrowed his brows. Soronume was unsure whether it was due to embarrassment or rage, so he intervened, speaking quickly to avoid jeopardizing the progress they had just made. "Good evening, sire," he said, stepping away from his daughter and bowing. "King Droin and his healer are kindly helping Elluin with her wounds from the night of the attack."
Thranduil took a breath and granted Soronume a nod, realizing that the Dwarves had no ill intent and, furthermore, that he and Elluin had somehow convinced them of the truth of the incident.
"You are courteous to offer your help, King Droin," Thranduil said in a measured tone. He looked around at the rest of the company, still seated silently at the table, their meal suspended as they stared back at the Elvenking.
"I have come to invite you officially to my council tomorrow morning," Thranduil continued, returning his gaze to Droin. "There are matters concerning our realms that I would discuss."
"One matter, at least, has already been settled," Droin said weightedly. "I have come to believe your claim that the Elves were not responsible for the recent attack on my people."
"I am relieved," Thranduil answered. "Perhaps, since it has been established that our peoples are not enemies, we may collaborate to the mutual benefit of our realms."
"Those matters are indeed best left for the morning," Droin grumbled. "An empty stomach and tired feet are a poor starting point for any negotiation."
"Certainly." Thranduil courteously bowed his head. "With your permission, then, I will request the return of my advisors. I will see to it that Elluin's wounds are tended while you partake of the hospitality of Greenwood as my welcome guests."
"Very well," Droin said as he and Mimbin moved to the table. Elluin instantly took the chance to hastily tie on the soiled bandage and straighten her skirts. Soronume took her hands to help her rise.
Thranduil held out his arm to her as he continued. "The two guards will remain stationed at your door, King Droin, to aid in your protection or to serve as messengers, should you have any need before we meet again."
Droin grunted his assent as he accepted a mug of ale from another Dwarf. "Just mind Elluin is seen to," he said, watching her take the Elvenking's arm.
"I will make sure of it. Good night."
Elluin relished the cooler air outside of the guest house as it wafted over her flushed cheeks. She wished she could stop and bind her wound better but felt she could not do so before the king. She also still held his arm and she was not eager to let go.
Once they were a short distance down the path, out of earshot of the Dwarves, Soronume stopped. Switching to their native Sindarin, he said, "Sire, I beg leave to take my daughter to the healing rooms."
"No. The council is convened and I need you to debrief them in preparation for tomorrow's meeting with Droin."
Soronume hesitated only a moment before bowing his assent.
"Father, it is not far," Elluin said confidently. "I will be fine on my own."
"No, you must not walk any further," Thranduil said gravely. "You will only do more damage. I will carry you."
"I can take her, sire," Soronume answered.
"I will not hear of it," Thranduil answered. He turned to Elluin. "You were hurt in my service. I regret having caused you harm."
"Sire, although we had not planned for my wounds to reopen, I believe it worked to our advantage, Elluin said, gritting her teeth through the sting. "The Dwarves may not have believed in our innocence in the events of the attack otherwise."
Thranduil's eyes softened. "I would still have preferred to avoid your discomfort. Come." He noticed with some surprise the jolt of joy that shot through his heart as Elluin stepped close to wrap an arm around his neck and he gingerly lifted her into his arms. He met her eyes for an instant and allowed himself to savor the adoration he saw there above her flushed cheeks.
He took a quick breath to clear his head and resumed walking, his pace brisk. He glanced back briefly at Soronume. "I shall join you and the council shortly," he said simply, already turning off the path to go toward the healing rooms, holding Elluin securely against him. The elleth looked over Thranduil's shoulder long enough to see her father smile at her before he continued down the path toward the council chambers.
They were quiet for a while, enjoying the contrasts of the night. The sounds of the people's activity had died down and now they heard only the chirp of insects and the occasional muffled call of a night bird. The dark shadows beneath the trees highlighted the gentle glow of moonlight on their canopies. The coolness of the night breeze made more obvious the heat of their bodies where they were pressed against each other.
Thranduil felt the tension of the day start to seep out of him with each step. With every breath of night air, the fury he had felt at the Dwarves' insulting accusation dissipated. The stars seemed to absorb his frustration over the lingering issues in the aftermath of the attack. The comfortable weight of the elleth in his arms grounded him into the more hopeful present.
Elluin reveled in the closeness, fighting to keep her heartbeat steady. She thought it best to fix her gaze on the path ahead to prevent her thoughts flying into fantasies. She was somewhat grateful when Thranduil broke the silence.
"Elluin, I thank you again for your help with the Dwarves. I fear the situation would have ended in disaster without you and your father. If not for you and my other advisors, I surely would have brought war to the realm." His voice held regret.
"I am deeply honored to be of help, my king," she answered honestly. She decided not to speculate on how Thranduil's dealing with the Dwarves would have gone had she and her father not intervened. "Truly, sire, it is not necessary for you to carry me. We are nearly there."
"I have lost count of how many soldiers I have carried from battlefields in my life," he said with a pang of melancholy. "All of them Elves who fought with me, or for me. This is hardly any different. A king is not often permitted the chance to show gratitude explicitly. This simple act of service gives me more satisfaction than mere words." A sudden smile spread on his face. "Though I admit, Elluin, you are not quite as severely wounded nor as heavy as those soldiers."
Elluin smiled in return, delighting in the king's joviality. "I should think not, sire. Though, I imagine I share with them the same appreciation. You are certainly a king worthy of our love and service, sire."
"Now there is another difference," Thranduil pointed out matter-of-factly. "The love you bear me is different from that of the soldiers."
"This is true, my king," Elluin said, feeling suddenly awkward with her arms around Thranduil's shoulders. "However, as it stands now, it manifests in the same way. To be your servants gives us happiness, and we do our duty with pride...and with hope for a future still at your side."
Elluin dropped her gaze. Thranduil studied her for a moment, unable to see her blush in the low light but sensing it anyway. They were prevented from further conversation as they arrived at the healing rooms.
Gwedhil, who had attended Elluin earlier, noticed them enter. She instantly abandoned the pestle she was using and rushed over to stop before them with a bow.
"Good evening, sire. I shall take charge of Elluin." Her bright eyes traveled over the elleth, expertly assessing.
"Where shall I put her?" Thranduil asked, ignoring the implied command to turn Elluin over right there.
"In here, sire," Gwedhil answered, quickly leading the way into a separate room, sparsely occupied by ellith whose more severe wounds were still healing from the attack. She gestured to an empty bed and Thranduil set her gently down.
"Thank you, sire," Elluin mumbled.
"Now, my dear, what have you done?" Gwedhil asked quietly as she gathered supplies to restitch the gashes she knew had reopened before even seeing them.
"This is my fault," Thranduil surprised them by interjecting. "Elluin aggravated her injuries in service to the realm at my command, though in doing so, she may have prevented war between our people and the Dwarves of Khazad-dum."
Gwedhil could not keep the wonder from her face as she set the supplies down on the bed.
"Sire, that is somewhat of an exaggeration," Elluin said with an embarrassed smile.
"I am not often given to exaggeration," Thranduil answered smoothly. "Once more, Elluin, you have my thanks." He bent, lifted her hand, and planted a kiss on it before turning back to Gwedhil. "I expect her to be well cared for."
"Of course, sire," the healer answered with a bow, the astonishment still evident in her expression. She stared at the king's back as he left for a long moment before facing her charge again and sitting on her bed. She returned to her normal, professional demeanor. "Now, Elluin, I will give you a sedative for the cleaning and stitching." Her eyes lit up with excitement. "When we finish, I want to hear the entire tale."