"Stop, stop, stop," Taíban rushed through the dwarves halting their efforts in digging fire pits and stripping saplings used to string strips of meat. When their attention was his, he added, "Lord Círdan has sent word your game is to be processed in our ovens in the Havens. Also, the lord is going with you all the way to Erebor with enough elves to insure your arrival."
"We don't possess the large horses ta transport that much meat so far without spoilage," Barad, son of Garad and cousin to Fili and Kili growled skeptically. He motioned for work to resume.
"Wagons are on their way," Taíban enthusiastically continued, lowering his gaze to meet the leader of the hunting dwarves. Garad sent his own son to recover his disappointment in not being asked to help move dwarves across the continent. Barad was to be in charge until his father returned. He knew his cousin, Fili, in time would supplant him; another disenchantment in his life.
"An when will these wagons arrive?" Barad asked.
"By nightfall."
That evening Elladan walked among skinned animals strung on poles balanced tree limbs and counted. "Ten elk and eight bucks. Not a bad first day's hunt. I told you dwarves there was game down here. Our time in the Haven's wasn't wasted and the taverns provided valuable information; for instance the Mithlond elves are getting soft and prefer domesticated meat over the tastier wild game we eat, and most of them have lost their hunting skills."
"Or another reason could be many elves are sailing," Taíban inserted dryly, ignoring the younger elf's attempts to bait him.
Elladan rolled his eyes in the direction of the dwarves and saw them chuckle. Normally elves were taciturn and aloof and they found these Peredhil, as the twins called themselves, to be approachable; the one called Taíban, not so much.
"I spoke with the rider and he hurried back to the line of wagons headed this way to guide them here," Taíban insisted when it looked like the dwarves would continue. "Why don't you hunt again in the morning while we prepare the meat for transport? Unless you fancy boning meat and loading it in our large wagons," he threw out.
Barad looked up at Elladan, "Elf, does he speak truth?"
Elladan's merry eyes took his fellow elf in before answering. "He only lies at card games and to his wife. If he says wagons are headed our way, believe him. I for one am hunting again in the morning."
Fili looked at Elrohir and he was staring at the meat, lost in thought. "What is going on in that elven brain of yours, Elrohir?"
"I'm doing something dwarves hate to do; calculating how much dry meat is hanging. Each bull is ninety five stone and a third is bone, so half that is forty eight stone minus a third is thirty two stone or four hundred and fifty pounds more or less per animal. If we use draft horses, one horse per elk and one per three bucks of dried meat should be enough for all this meat."
"How long did it take you to learn the formulas?" Fili asked impressed with the numbers Elrohir threw out.
"I learned them young. By eight hundred, I could accurately guess the hoof weight before shooting," Elrohir stated.
Elladan laughed. "We learned them by age hundred. Our daeradar, known in common tongue as Celeborn, took us on a long trip and we did naught else but hunt and calculate our food. Well, I learned. El is a lot slower than me." He smirked at his identical face.
"We have company," Taíban inserted.
The twins reached for bows and melded into the trees while dwarves scrambled for weapons and stood ready. With little sound, a line of wagons rolled into the area and elves immediately started unharnessing the draft horses while the leader on horseback looked around before dismounting. With a slight bow to Taíban, he delivered his message once again; this time to the dwarves. It was he who scouted and encountered Taíban. "Lord Círdan has offered to Lord Gróin our meat processing halls and elves. Lord Gróin accepted on your behalf. Lord Círdan has allocated fifty horses for a trip to Erebor. He suggests you hunt until all are laden."
The twins silently reappeared and Elrohir addressed the messenger. "And Círdan plans on each horse returning with a barrel of wine?"
Without smiling, the elf replied, "I wouldn't know. Lord Círdan only issued orders for meat."
The twins looked at each other in amusement. "We volunteer to stay and hunt."
Taíban replied with longsuffering, "I didn't expect you two to do aught else."
"The dwarves are to room above the Laurelin Tavern. Lord Círdan requests your presence for supper," the gatekeeper announced when the twins stopped with the dwarves behind the rolling wagons, which kept moving towards the marina. He showed his distain at the next part of his message. "After the dwarves have bathed, they are also invited to the palace for a repast."
"We will take it from here," Elladan instructed and with a sweep of his hand for the dwarves to follow, stroll at their head to the tavern, where a stable was located next door and soon the ponies were eating finest of oats and turned into a paddock of lush grass. After taking the unveiled bathing advice, they were collected by none other than Taíban and led to a massive house.
Barad was duly impressed at the large rooms and indoor trees bearing fruit this early in the year. They were led into a large dining chamber and eyes beheld an oaken keg that could only contain ale. Almost two weeks without a drop had the dwarves edgy and in withdrawals.
"Lord Círdan insists you help yourselves. He will be here shortly," Taíban instructed and almost didn't finish before a dwarf was drawing rounds and tossing them across the room where equally adept dwarves caught them. He watched in amazement as the first mug was upended and drained and the room filled with belches that put elves to shame. He had a sneaking suspicion Círdan missed this ritual on purpose.
The twins entered and looked much cleaner and their robes were pressed by servants while they were in the baths. They forgo ale for wine. "Lord Barad, I spoke with Mithlond's butcher and he says he requires the help of the dwarves to assure the meat is as they favor," Elrohir said after he drained half his glass of wine.
"Aye, will they allow us ah good night's sleep?" Barad knew elves could work for days if needed.
"They are slicing meat tonight and tomorrow the spicing and smoking begins. Fires are lit and burning hickory down to embers for a great smoked flavor. What do dwarves usually spice with?" Taíban inquired.
"The best I ever had was seasoned with rock salt and pepper," Fili added his own preference. He looked at the twins. "It was given to us at Rivendell, come to think of it."
"We had some horses die," Elladan confessed soberly.
Fili's eyes widened. "That was horse?"
"It was some of Elrond's finest beef," Círdan set the record straight as he entered, with a stern look to Elladan. "I don't need word getting back to the dwarves we gave them horse. Must I remind you two we have over a thousand miles to travel with these dwarves? I insist you two don't do one thing Elrond has to explain to Lord's Gróin and Garad. If he does, I'm filing a formal complaint with the ranking lord of the Galadhrim that his overseeing Elrond's parenting was lacking and I'm sure Lord Celeborn will take issue with your adar, hopefully with his sword."
"I'm homesick," Elrohir muttered with an exaggerated sniff. "You even used Erestor's inflection."
"I mean every word," Círdan threatened. He addressed the room, "Along that sideboard under silver domes are piles of meat for you and greens for us. Of course, you are also invited to the greens." He led the way and took a glass plate in a stack and filled it. Sitting at the head of the long table, he waited for his guests to join him and invited Barad to sit at his right and Fili his left and Kili beside him. He saw the twins take spots across from them beside Barad.
The dwarves took the meat out of politeness, but it looked strange to them. Fili took a bite first and everyone watched his reaction. "Is this horse? I don't recognize this meat."
"Just great," Elladan thundered with a twinkle in his grey eyes, "you get on us for jesting about feeding dwarves horse and then turn around and actually give it to them."
"I am sending a letter to your daeradar." Círdan snapped, then addressed Fili much more civilly. "What you are eating is from the sea. It is a fish that grows several hundred pounds called a tuna. Have you ever eaten that type of seafood?"
Fili wasn't sure. Kili saved him an answer. "We guarded a wagon train of men that came by Thorin's Halls and were lost. They were taking the pass north of us to the sea. When we arrived the fishermen were fileting one and we tried it. This is good; much better than what we got served in the town of men by the sea."
Hearing the strange colored meat was good, the dwarves dug in hungrily while Taíban expounded on how elven spices made the difference.
"Your father informed me, Lord Barad, that you will be in charge of Thorin's Halls while he is gone. Should you require assistance beyond Lord Estoras' services, come to the Havens and ask for Lord Galdor. He is in charge of this side of Eriadore in my absence. I've longed to visit Erebor. I sent Galdor in my stead two hundred years ago when Gandalf organized a summit. You boys were there," Círdan addressed the twins with his eyes and felt their fëas darken.
"It was a difficult time for us. Adar insisted we attend and work as guards on the trip. We cut trails of orcs and Adar wouldn't allow us our sport," Elrohir related, with eyes on his plate of succulent greens and large slab of flaky tuna.
"We never made it home that winter. Adar gave us leave at the Anduin and we tracked the orcs north to Gundabad. That winter we plagued anything foolish enough to leave their hallowed walls," Elladan finished.
"I wish to do that," Kili snarled to nobody in particular. "I didn't kill enough of them at the battle."
The twins exchanged unreadable glances. "Hey Kili, we have something to show you and Fili," Elladan switched subjects and forces enthusiasm he didn't feel.
Reading their thoughts, Círdan informed everyone, "You better go after supper. It won't be here tomorrow."
"You mean?" Elrohir asked with dread.
Círdan let a hint of smile appear. "Go and see."
The twins volunteered to be guides for the dwarves and gave them a tour of Mithlond, starting at the docks by route through Círdan's manicured grounds on a stone path that Elladan was carried when he fell off the bluff so many centuries before. They stopped at water's edge and stood still.
Looking around the dwarves didn't see any reason to stand in silence. "What are you looking for?" Fili asked for the dwarves.
"That," Elladan said excitedly and pointed into the harbor. "I didn't expect an adult."
"Wow," Elrohir echoed softly.
"Well, I'll be," Barad exclaimed and other dwarves looked in awe. "Is that one of the whales our dwarfling fables tell of?"
An elf came to them. "She entered the harbor two days ago looking for her baby." He pointed and a lighter sliver swimming at her side, almost invisible against her mass. "Best as we can tell, sharks were waiting for her to calve and eat the baby. She pushed the baby into our harbor and we think she knew we would help until she returned. She led the sharks many days out to sea and then returned. It is unimaginable they are so smart."
"How do you know all this?" Elladan asked.
"Lord Círdan talked to her," the elf answered as if it were a normal occurrence. "You talk to your horses and they understand."
"I just never thought of talking to wildlife."
"Durin's Folk talk to ravens," Fili reminded everyone.
"Mithrandir and elves talk to the Great Eagles," Elrohir added. "And Radagast talks to all animals and I think Mithrandir can also. Thranduil talks to his elk."
"I didn't think it extended to creatures of the sea. El and I must offer a prayer for their safety," Elladan explained. The dwarves watched with interest as both elves turned towards the west. "Oh Lady Elbereth who cannot do but the will of Eru Ilúvatar, hear our pleas for long life and rich feeding grounds for the whale you allowed us to know…."
"And keep those who would harm mother and son far from them," Elrohir ended and both bowed from the waist. Turning to the dwarves, Elrohir declared, "And now we will show you where your meat is being prepared. The meat is being soaked in seawater tonight to accept spices deeper into the meat when added tomorrow."
"Easy, Thorin, you don't want to slide off," Gandalf warned him while tightening his grip when the dwarf started trashing. They flew through the night and the mountain was in sight in the cold dawn sun now resting upon their backs and causing the snowy peak to shine like a guiding light.
Hearing Gandalf's voice, Thorin moaned in pain, memories returning and he pried his eyes open. "So this is what I missed last ride with the eagles. I've listened to everyone try and explain what it was like and words can't describe the sight and feeling of flying. It truly is like the Company said; like being an eagle." He allowed Gandalf to reach around him and hold a worn leather skin with a metal flange and stem. He recognized it of dwarven make just before it reached his lips. A melody of herbs woke his taste buds as liquid splashed across his tongue and he swallowed.
"A little something Óin mixed for your trip," Gandalf explained. "He wants you to sleep for much of it. He can't stop the pain from Dwalin's knife work."
"I see the Mountain. It's beautiful; a diamond fit for a lady's hand."
Gandalf grinned; glad he was perched behind Thorin so the prince couldn't see. "I know what you were thinking when dosed."
"That the sight of the Mountain will never get old?" Thorin hazard a guess.
Gandalf chuckled, "Or your mind is starting to warm to the idea of a wife and heir your father wants to hold in his arms before dying."
Thorin snorted.
"When I was in Lothlórien, word came that your uncle, Lord Fárin, is on the road and it will be interesting to see who arrives first, him or the dwarves from Jötunheim," Gandalf spoke conversationally, hoping to distract Thorin until he was asleep. He felt his charge relaxing and guessed one more boring tidbit would have the prince pain free in slumber. "You know the eagles are going to need food before the next leg, which is almost as far as we've already come."
"They can hunt the mountain," Thorin slurred and his head dropped forward.
Gandalf pulled him back and allowed his arms to once again support his upper body. He watched the mountain grow closer and glanced to his left. Perching carefully, hands still gripping feathers was Fræg. He had offered to toss him the water skin, but the dwarf called back he wasn't letting go.
The horn sounded, causing Balin to lift his head from his ledgers. As his office was close to the rampart, he was first up the stone steps and looking where the guard pointed. Two flying objects the size of the fell beast were growing faster than he liked.
"Should I muster the guard, Sir?"
Balin looked closely as Dori and Ori joined him. He glanced to his right when he felt presence that normally wouldn't invade his space. "Ori, run to the king and tell him to stay out of sight in case we are under attack. Dori, find the elf and bring him here." Balin then shook his head at the guard who asked the question. "Nay lad, two can't get past our new iron gates." Something caught his eye and he saw the newly knighted lord, Theigard, Bard's second racing to the mountain on a horse Thranduil sold them.
"Shall we open for him or make him come in from the stables?"
"Let him in," Balin ordered and shook his head that a dwarf would think about blocking their closest allies from the mountain. He would speak with Dáin. He frowned. 'Where was Dáin?' he pondered as the specks sprouted visible wings.
As in answer to his silent question, Dáin appeared, fully armored, weapons in hand.
"You took your sweet time," Balin teased.
"I was in the family chambers. I was just informed of an event from the dwarrowdams that had me shaken an unable ta leave. I sat in shock an then demanded how it happened. Ignore the laughter, snickers and biology lessons when ye see me with them."
Young Thorin raced up. "I was in the training arena when word came we might be under attack."
"I personally was attacked by the dams just this afternoon when I stopped in ta greet them and see if they wanted ta eat in the formal chambers with the king," Dáin humorously stated. "Ye might as well hear it from me before ye do something that proves ye are my offspring an ask ah dumb question ye should already know the answer to."
"No way that would happen ta me," Thorin arrogantly stated while Balin laughed softly at his youthful certainty.
"Yer mother is with dwarfling," Dáin snorted.
Balin laughed heartily and Thorin gasp out, "How do ye know?"
"That, my son, proves ye are my boy. I know because yer mother told me. Since she is somewhat an expert, I took her word."
"Congratulations," Balin slapped him on the back. "A dwarfling and Durin to boot. Does Thráin know?"
"I was still processing the information when the horn sounded. Before I got out the door, Azie accused me of mentally telling the guard to blow it so I could escape." He looked around for his assigned guard, who was back at his post higher up by the horn. "Remind me ta thank him later."
"I'm going ta have ah brother," Thorin stated with awe in his tone.
"Could be another lass," Balin reminded him.
"No way, Father isn't you."
Even Dáin laughed.
Erestor silently appeared and looked to the sky with his superior eyesight. "It's Great Eagles with riders on their backs. I would bet it has something to do with the lights we saw."
Balin snorted, "I just remembered, you were telling a story about Glorfindel coming back here when we were sidetracked and we never did get back to it."
Erestor gave a stony look they saw right through. "I was hoping nobody remembered. I am quite enjoying my break from him."
"I would like to hear it. Maybe after a pitcher of wine, you will feel more like sharing," Balin pressed.
Theigard's boots pounded on the steps. "We heard the invasion cadence. Are we at war again?"
"No, Lord Theigard," Erestor replied for all, "it's the Great Eagles with Mithrandir and Thorin on the back of Gwaihir, leader of the eagles, and on the back of his brother, Landroval, is an unknown dwarf."
"Open the doors again," Dáin yelled down the stairs and from overhead, they saw the top edge of the iron doors swing out.
The eagles lined up single file and floated through the massive doors, talons making scratching sounds on stone as they set down.
Dáin led the charge down the steps and was at Gwaihir's side before Gandalf could yell for healers.
Seeing Balin and Dáin and lesser Durin's in front of gathering dwarves and Erestor lurking just behind, Gandalf spoke to him. "Lord Erestor, you are just the one I am seeking. Thorin was attacked by the dark wizard and is gravely injured once again." He looked around. "Where is Thráin?"
"Thráin?" Fræg exploded. "No way he lives!"
Gandalf raised his staff and with a gentle nudge, knocked Fræg off Landroval's back. He landed on his back with an, "ooofff."
"Yes Fræg, you imbecile; Thráin survived, both as a prisoner of Dol Guldur and your incompetence," Gandalf thundered and handed Thorin into Erestor's waiting arms.
Dáin was moving at the name and it was he who lifted Fræg by the front of his tunic and stood him on his feet. "So ye are the one who has so much ta answer for." He snapped an order to his guards. "Take him out of my sight."
"Wait," a hand descended on his shoulder and he knew the voice. He turned to catch Thráin's reaction. The king was studying the healer like a bug he was about to pull the wings off. Without another word, Thráin hurried to his son and reached for his arm, feeling for life. "Will he live?"
"He needs Elrond," Gandalf gently explained. He jumped from the large avian's back and looked up to his ride, Gwaihir. "Go and hunt. We will be here stabilizing Thorin for the next leg of his trip and I have answers for King Thráin before Lord Fræg has his turn."
The eagles turned, hopped through the door and took flight.
Fræg felt his knees shake. 'Did Erebor get taken by evil beings and wizards and those loyal to Sauron?' Other than hands on his shoulders, for the moment he was forgotten.
Thráin squeezed with the hand still on his son's arm. "What are his injuries?"
"He was severely burned tracking down Lord Fræg, who decided to run away. From what Dwalin and Óin told me; and what Fræg added on the way here, I have a fair idea what happened. We flew for twenty hours with no food for Fræg and Lembis for me," Gandalf hinted. He turned to Erestor. "Take him to the Halls of Healing and prepare him to go to Elrond. I need you to take him, as I'm returning to Dwalin. Thorin needs to be wakened and fed and his personal needs met."
There was a moment of silence while Erestor hurried away with Thorin cradled in his arms surrounded by several healers. Thráin then turned his attention to Fræg. "Take Lord Fræg ta ah room an place him under guard an give him some food."
Dáin grabbed his arm. "I'll take ye personally an really hope ye try ta mess with me."
"Join us when done, Dáin," Thráin ordered and led the way to Durin Folk's private dining area. He didn't wait to see who would join him for a meal, but wasn't surprised when all Durin's, including young Thorin and Bombur followed, and Gandalf stated he would join them in a moment as he hurried to a latrine near the door.
Bombur directed supper and before mugs of ale were passed around, Dáin was back and as he slid in his spot noticed Gandalf was back in his customary place at the opposite end of the table from the king.
"Tell me of yer journey since ye left my halls, Gandalf," Thráin requested and as they ate they listened to the story Gandalf entertained them with. Finally he ended when the eagles descended into the mountain that coincided with his last bite of food.
"It's comforting ta know the wizard is far from here," was Thráin's first comment.
"I've changed my plans because of this wizard," Gandalf replied, his visage stern. "I will guide the Longbeards who took exile in Jötunheim." He looked towards the door when Erestor entered.
"Thorin is ready to fly again." He sat and thanked the servant who placed a plate of food before him. "I need to gather a few personal items and will be ready. I trust my horse will be taken care of?" He looked to Thráin.
"Aye, we will feed your horse until someone comes for him."
"I expect it will be me claiming him when I accompany the dwarves from Ered Luin," Erestor replied and ate while Gandalf regaled them with stories of his horse.
"I sent Thranduil's horse back to him before I left the Golden Wood. My old companion, Shadowfax, came at my whistle. He is offspring of the Mearas Lord Oromë brought to these lands in the days before the dwarves and elves awakened. They can run faster and longer than other horses."
"Is that what the elves raced that day?" Thráin asked.
Gandalf nodded. "It is. They are prized animals and each has a story. Asfaloth, owned by Glorfindel, came from Aman with him when he returned. That is basically the same blood and also superior to domestic horses of men. It is a rare man who can ride one. Of course elf lords ride nothing else; including that beast Erestor has here. They can cover great distances in a short amount of time. I've ridden Shadowfax, my wild stallion for days on end, night and day. When Legolas and the twins rode to Gundabad and back, they were on the backs of Mearas. No normal horse can withstand running hundreds of miles without stopping."
"How old is he?" Dáin inquired. He saw his son hang on every word and was happy all of the sudden to have another on the way. He was losing his firstborn to the world of adults. Shoving silly sentimental thoughts out, he concentrated on the story.
"Shadowfax is around a hundred, just hitting his prime. Those horses live close to five hundred years. They only live in the Riddermark and the horsemen of Rohan bred a hybrid with domestic animals that are suited for them. Many elves favor the tamer Rohirrim crosses so Elrond breeds them for the Havens and Dúnedain Warriors.
"Will the horse give us any problems?" Dori asked.
Erestor shook his head. "He is used to other races and like any horse, he thinks with his stomach. Feed him well, and he will eat, sleep and get fat."
"Will he need exercise?" Thorin Stonehelm asked. "I could let him out to run."
"Okay, all you have to do is open his stall door. Before I leave, I will tell him he must stay and I will return for him."
"And he will understand?" Thorin sounded skeptical.
"As well as a raven." Erestor finished eating, rose and hurried off, first to the stables and then to his assigned quarters and packed. He opted to leave his saddle and tack, only taking his bag of personal belongings. He hurried back to the Halls of Healing to check Thorin.
Thorin was sipping soup from an inclined position. Seeing Erestor, he said to his attendant, "That's enough for now." He let Erestor run glowing hands over his chest and stomach, quicker to admit this time to himself the elves were the best healers.
"They say I'm being taken to the House of Elrond. Why cannot you heal me here?"
Erestor finished and picked the cup of soup up. "You need to drink all of this. It is a blend of mushrooms and I've been told it is one of your favorites." He held the cup to his patient's mouth, happy to see Thorin finish the rest in one sitting. He set the cup down. "Elrond has skills I don't possess. My healing training is more for battle or in the words of Elrond, crude. I assist Elrond or other healers, but am not one."
"Sounds like our healers. Dwarves are either born with the gift or have rudimentary skills," Thorin replied and was grateful without asking to lie flat again when the elf removed the pillows.
"Óin told me of his training here in the mountain," Erestor confided and accepted the leather pouch of herbs to keep Thorin unconscious and pain free during the flight. "He is looking forward to training a new generation within these halls he informed me." A shadow fell across a light and he turned to see Dáin waiting. Erestor motioned him to the bed.
"I see ye are back ta being helpless as ah newborn dwarfling," Dáin teased his cousin.
"I don't see why Mahal keeps teasing me with death," Thorin complained. "If he wants me in his halls, he needs to stop messing it up."
"They are packing yer things. I hope the eagle can make it over the mountain with all Dori is packing for ye. Did Lord Erestor give ye ah date when ye'll be back this way?" Both looked at Erestor, trying not to eavesdrop.
He gave up and answered, "I would hope he is with the dwarves from Ered Luin. Elrond is the better judge though."
Ori ran in with messages, "The king wants to know why the delay, Dáin, and the eagles are back." He looked down at Thorin. "I envy you the trip. I loved flying on the eagles. Take care."
"I hope to be awake longer this time," Thorin rejoined and patted the younger dwarf's forearm.
"I have ta go, Thorin," Dáin stated. "Before I leave, Azie informed me this afternoon that I'm ta be ah father again."
Thorin laughed and then cursed at the lancing pain that threatened to rip his ribs apart, and Erestor offered his congratulations.
"Ye gotta have one, Thorin, so they can grow up as we did." With a wave, he was gone.