Estel sulked at being cooped up in Elrond's tent with his mother and Erak as rain poured for the third day, making puddles and wetting the bottom of the thick canvas. Other elves mingled and Elrohir was the center of attention and his bed moved away from the wall. He slinked to the cot and settled on a stool. "Are you still too sick to talk?"
"That's about all I can do," Elrohir grumbled. "This is the first time I've seen you. Where have you been?"
"There is so much to see and do. Erak lets me wander all over and just follows. He never tells me not to do anything, making this the best summer ever. I've pulled large carp from the river and chopped firewood for dwarves and helped tend livestock. I'm even learning their language."
"I think it's partly that you're getting older and acting more mature." Elrohir knew he hit on the very thing to say when Estel smiled broadly and straightened. He also knew the boy was given his freedom to learn naturally how to deal with dwarves and their strange, aggressive ways. "When we get to Dale; you will meet the king's son, Bain. He is a little older than you, but you two should get along great."
"I heard about him. He got to have the black arrow rest on his shoulder. I've never done anything important," Estel moaned, sounding more his age.
"Your turn will come. You will be a great Dúnedain warrior and travel these lands, protecting men from evil. All Bain will ever do is learn to be a king of Dale." Elrohir hoped this satisfied the boy.
"I brought the whale carving you gave me. I'm showing it to Bain. I bet he's never seen one."
"Why don't you give it to him." Elrohir could see Estel pondering whether or not to do so. "We can always make you one, but he doesn't have a lot of toys or personal items. They lost everything when Smaug attacked Dale."
"If you don't mind, I will."
Elrohir smiled in satisfaction. He knew that simple act would most likely provide an ally for them when Bain was king. He wanted to talk, but sleep pulled him under.
Estel went and bugged Erak for a game.
Many dwarves braved the rain to pull fish from the river and cut wood in the nearby forest to keep the fires inside the stone buildings burning day and night. The covered fire pits were the only ones not holding inches of water, and dams formulated a system to keep food cooking and groups moving in and out to get a hot meal. The elves disappeared behind their tent walls and if they cooked, nobody saw them scrounging wood.
Thorin, Garad and Fárin stepped around large puddles as they made daily rounds, ending petty squabbles, offering comfort and bearing news. They were moving to yet another set of circled wagons, with large tarps stretched over belongings and tied in the center on a pole. Groups huddled underneath and let rivulets of water shed to the outside of the wagons. Thorin saw them emerge from the mist and stopped in his tracks to watch this newest batch of elves bear down on them. Powerful horses, surrounded by white light took form, but their eyes were drawn to the riders.
Galadriel picked the best path through muddy dwarven camps. She allowed Nenya to cast a white aurora, bestowing a ghostly appearance on each of them and also helped keep rain from drenching their grey cloaks.
Thorin knew the witch of the Golden Wood had arrived and it was she the elves waited for. He saw her at a distance while at Rivendell the previous year. As when she arrived at Elrond's home, an accompanying army surrounded her, but instead of Celeborn at her side, he recognized Prince Legolas occupying that spot. At Rivendell, he was hidden by shrubs and stone; here he was caught out in the open directly in her path and stepped aside expecting not a glance from any of them, for his face was shrouded behind his own cloak with cowl pulled low. Being just a dwarf, he was used to not being seen by men and elves unless they wanted his blacksmith services. The horses abruptly stopped beside him drawing his eyes upward until he was looking into her bright blue orbs.
"Your testing is over, Prince Thorin. You passed and the Valar will grant your greatest wish."
"I didn't know I was being tried?" Thorin snarled in typical dwarven fashion and saw her smile. Without another word to him, the horses started moving at silent commands and before he could help himself he exchanged glares with Legolas. Another beautiful dark haired female looked at him with interest and he realized it must be Arwen, Elrond's daughter. He remembered his father speaking favorably on her.
"What did she mean, Thorin?" Fárin asked. "What's your wish that she would know about?"
"Who knows," he growled and stalked to the next group. Inside he was dancing a jig. His greatest wish was to see his father on the throne for many more decades.
Glorfindel, who knew when they entered camp, stepped from his and Erestor's tent to greet Galadriel. Círdan, another with limited Maia powers, quickly joined the warrior in the steady rain. Others started gathering for the reunion, as word quickly spread from silent calls only elves could hear.
The horses splashed between tents to a halt and she was first to dismount with a wide smile for them. "When Elrond told me you were on this side of the mountain, I decided to join the party, and of course return his warriors which Mithrandir refused to accompany him back to Imladris."
"The sun is about to shine upon our meeting," Círdan offered a slightly altered greeting and hugged her. He turned to greet Legolas. "I heard you are sprouting wings, young Legolas."
Legolas bowed his head respectfully. "Lord Círdan, it is a pleasure to see you again, and yes, the sun is about to shine upon our meeting." He didn't get any further salutation, for Elladan slapped his arm, drawing his attention.
"Have you been behaving around my little sister? If not, I want details."
"The only thing improper thoughts I'm engaging with your sister is a lesson with my sword she desperately needs. I've been kind and considerate and she's taken advantage of my good nature."
Elladan grinned in delight. "Good, I'll warm you up first."
Legolas' expression lost some of its cockiness.
Círdan laughed at the youthful exchange and looked for Arwen, while Galadriel greeted those of his and Elrond's houses. He found her getting a long hug from Elrond and moved to her side. "I'll take one of those, if Elrond remembers you are a friable elleth and not an orc he is trying to strangle."
Elrond reluctantly let her loose and just as Círdan reached for her, she was gone. Glorfindel grinned at him over her head as he snagged the next hug.
Círdan finally got to greet her. "Arwen, the years without a visit have been long and lonely."
"Maybe I'll surprise you then," she retorted with a bright smile. "I would love to visit the Havens in the summer and we can stroll city streets and pluck fruit to our hearts content."
"It's a date," Círdan laughingly replied and allowed her to greet Erestor.
Estel wondered why all the elves suddenly poured out into the rain. He saw his mother and Erak also looking at the entrance with frowns. He wondered if they were being attacked and then saw Elrond's sword still slung on a tent pole. He was still playing a game with Erak when he looked where he heard a disturbance outside the tent and his mouth gaped in surprise when the flap was held open and she entered with a host of elves. He was kept out of her way when she visited Imladris the past year.
Galadriel shed her cloak and handed it to another female elf, which dogged her every step. She sank onto the stool Estel vacated and placed a hand on Elrohir's chest. It ebbed and flowed with his shallow breathing.
Elrohir felt a comforting presence, as familiar to him as his adar's touch. He opened his eyes, "I knew it was you; for you draw me from sleep like no other."
"I see how your adar and Glorfindel rouse you and your brother. Cold water in the face is rather something an ellon would do."
"He is a warrior," Elrond said from behind her. "I'll save gentleness for you. That way he enjoys it more. Now if you were to take a wife, she could show you other pleasures upon waking."
"Fine, I'll find a Silvan elf in Thranduil's halls," Elrohir snapped back at his father.
"Does Glorfindel have to chaperone your every move?" Elrond countered.
"I didn't come to hear you two bicker." Galadriel ended their favorite form of communication, although knew neither was serious.
Arwen shed her cloak and looked around. Her eyes fell on three humans and she remembered her father was raising yet another of his brother's progeny. As for the child; he was staring at her with wide grey eyes. 'Yep,' she mused, 'another little distant cousin I don't want to know too well and have my heart broken when he dies of old age.'
Estel wondered who the dark haired beautiful elf could be. She was by far the prettiest he ever saw outside Lady Galadriel, who he knew read his mind and that made him plenty scared of her. Of course, Glorfindel fed him stories of her powers to heighten his young fears. He watched as she glided across the room to the cot and leaned down and kissed the cheek of Elrohir. With dejection, he guessed it must be Elrohir's intended; although he never heard rumors his brother was seeing someone.
"I didn't believe it when they said you were coming," Elrohir whispered; his mouth dry.
Galadriel read his mind and poured a glass of water from a pitcher on the small table by his bed and helped him sit up.
Elrond took Arwen's elbow. "Come, meet our human family."
Erak and Gilraen stood when Elrond approached and nudged Estel to his feet.
"This is Arwen, my only daughter and light of my life," Elrond introduced her. He pointed to Erak, "And Erak, the finest Dúnedain of his generation."
"M'lady," Erak bowed his head respectfully. He guessed who she was from the many paintings in Elrond's personal chamber.
Gilraen looked upon Arwen for the first time and they studied each other. Like all elves, she found this one impossible to read. "I hope you don't mind my living in your family wing?"
"We have raised all chieftains of the Dúnedain in my adar's house." She looked directly into Estel's eyes. With a flash of foresight, she addressed him. "You will become a great warrior, young Elessar."
Estel frowned, "My name is Estel."
Arwen gave him a mysterious smile, "I have foreseen you with other names. Estel is your name no longer. Until you take a name for yourself; you are hereby called Elessar."
"Can she do that, Mother?" Estel's raised voice caused all talking to cease.
Galadriel and Círdan joined them and looked into minds.
"Your name for now shall be Elessar," Galadriel decreed.
Estel looked at his mother and Erak, expecting them to tell the elves they couldn't rename him and was shocked when his mother curtsied deeply to Galadriel and Erak nodded respectfully.
"It will be as you wish," Gilraen agreed. She looked at her son with sadness. "Elessar, please don't argue or backtalk your elders."
Estel sat back down, looking stunned at elves he thought he knew. "Are you still adar?" he asked Elrond in an unsure voice.
Elrond smiled fondly at him. "When you become a man, you will drop adar and call me Elrond, as all your forebears did. With a new name come more responsibilities."
The new Elessar nodded aware he was being appeased. He looked at Arwen and scowled. He was certain he didn't like her. "The rain is almost stopped. Can I go outside now, Adar?"
"Take your cloak," Elrond commanded and watched the boy race away. He faced Erak and Gilraen. "Elessar means Elfstone. Of all Dúnedain raised in my house, he is the first to carry that name. Arwen…" another vision crashed over him.
A young Dúnedain fighting a war in Rohan and returning north via Lothlórien. No longer a child, Elessar was now Aragorn and wooing his daughter. There were no chaperones about and both lost in lust, roving hands reserved for married elves. Elrond wanted to rush in and pull them apart. Suddenly, Celeborn was beside them, hands on each shoulder and bodies jerked apart. He backhanded Aragorn into the bole of a tree and Arwen tried to strike him, but he was too fast. He dragged her away, leaving Aragorn alone and wiping blood from his cut lip.
"Did you see it?" Elrond snarled in rage.
"You know the dangers of placing them together," Galadriel warned, while Círdan nodded he saw and understood.
Erak and Gilraen saw Elrond blank out in mid-sentence and knew this was elven magic at work.
Arwen placed a hand on his arm, "Adar, what did you three see?"
Elrond patted the hand. "Nothing important; just an annoying vision that plagues me from time to time." He abruptly left the tent with Glorfindel and Erestor hurrying to catch up.
Dáin spread his warriors along each side of the long caravan. They left Long Lake the day before and tonight they would be safely in the mountain. "I think we might make it, Dwalin," he commented to his riding partner. In pairs they rode behind Gandalf, with Nori and Óin just behind and followed by Bifur and Bofur.
Gandalf held his hand up for them to halt. When Dáin and Dwalin flanked him, he pointed to a spot in the barren rocks to their right. They spotted a small band of orcs on Wargs and one held a white scrap tied to the end of a stick. "Looks like they want a meeting." He motioned for them to approach and word spread down the line like a spark in dry tinder that orcs were approaching.
Lióni ran to her father's side and because his position was just behind that of the lords of Erebor, it afforded her a first close-up glimpse. The dots they all witnessed in the distance that were pointed out as orcs obscured their appearance and she was shocked by their ugly, twisted features. The beasts they rode resembled hideous wolf like creatures that snapped and growled, causing horses and rams to cry in panic and heightened her natural fear of them. A shaking hand gripped her the hilt of her sword and was glad she donned leather gloves, for they were dripping with sweat. Warriors who encountered orcs told tales of savagery and slaughter, sparing none.
The leader cautiously approached and knew Gandalf was their leader, for word came from Sauron to look for a tall one wearing grey. In black speech, he stated, "We trade lives of dwarves for the one who will wed a Durin." He motioned with his hand and another group appeared with a bound dwarf between them. "This one told us there is one among you."
Gandalf motioned for Dóvad to join them. "Who is that dwarf they've captured?"
"I'm not sure. One of the miners I assume. They must have taken him when he strayed ta relieve himself, for we've been under orders ta remain close for weeks."
Gandalf looked back to the orc, a short, wiry being in who spoke to them and replied in black speech. "Who is the dwarf?"
"Kef. He told us he works mines. We only want the female and will go." The orc looked nervously in the direction of Dáin and Dwalin. They were moving slowly apart.
"No. Return the dwarf and we will let you live," Gandalf decreed.
"If I die, so do many dwarves."
"You tell that piece of filth, we will die fighting an not give whatever they are after," Dáin yelled.
Dwalin looked at the Mountain in the near distance. Tonight they would be safe in the halls and the orcs knew that.
The orc lifted his nose. "I smell a female." He started to edge his Warg around Dwalin's side and never saw the swing until the Warhammer, Smasher, took his life.
Arrows filled the air and the two orcs holding Kef dropped in their tracks. A horn sounded from behind the orcs causing the remaining few to try and run, but not sure in what direction, so opted to fight the dwarves.
Dwalin had his hands full with the riderless Warg. Bifur and Bofur sliced at it with their swords until he managed a killing swing against the skull.
Pinned between the caravan and an attacking army from behind the orcs were forced over the ridge they were hiding behind. Warriors protecting the caravan rushed to engage and joined by Dáin's army trapping them between.
Lióni shook off hands trying to lead her to safety behind the wagons from her mother and grandmother and joined the warriors. She spotted an orc just bigger than her and screamed, "DIE, as she charged, her sword running it through."
Others turned and sniffed. With rotten tooth grins, they lunged at her with overwhelming speed and force. She deftly stepped aside and stabbed another through. Jumping back, she found herself grabbed by large, smelly orcs. "Weeze tak ya now," one stated in poor Westron. In spite of her screams for help, her sword was ripped from her grasp and she was slung over the shoulder of the largest and they were running through the battle and up the hill to their Wargs.
Gandalf used his staff to blind those nearest him to his dwarven friend's advantage. He heard the lass, Lióni, crying for help and sent a silent call for their path to be intercepted and the general direction it came from. Taking Glamdring, he easily cut down an attacking Warg.
Dáin relished the opportunity to take on a Warg and its snapping jaws didn't deter him from rushing its head, his Warhammer swinging. The beast was quick and ducked its massive head, trying to get a bite on the annoying dwarf. Teeth grazed the Mithril armor and Dáin laughed. "Hope ye broke ah tooth." His next swing didn't miss and life flowed from the crushed skull.
The orc carrying Lióni jumped onto his Warg and they made haste away from the battle. It looped south with the intent of taking this one to Mordor for a sacrifice to Sauron; for she was the one the dwarf told them was the leader's daughter. He didn't count on the spear coming from a great distance and piercing his ride. They tumbled off when the Warg ploughed its snout into the ground and flipped over. The orc snarled curses and drew his scimitar to face his enemy. He had just enough time to recognize his killers – elves, before a swinging sword removed his head.
Lióni jumped to run from these new giant warriors, when one reached out and snagged her arm. She struggled to no avail and was taken to two elves with no facial hair and long silver hair. She had a brief thought that this new enemy would take her far from her family and they would never learn her fate and just as swift, another flicker passed that she saw them before, but in her panicked state, didn't stop to process this new information. In her peripheral vision she saw all the orcs that took her were lying dead, as were their hideous mounts. She looked up into the face of her new captors; chin high and a defiant look on her face to cover a mountain of fear.
"Where's your beard?" One of the tall captors asked her in Khuzdul and she showed her surprise this one could speak her language.
She quickly felt her face and bare cheeks. Not remembering when or how it was lost, she replied, "I don't need it to die!" She wasn't prepared for the smile that graced his face, showing dimples. She wouldn't be sport for whatever this thing was. "If you're not going to kill me; I am leaving." She turned her back on them and started in a direction. She noticed the tall beings parted and let her through, so they probably weren't going to harm her. She was uncertain the direction back to the wagons, but knew the orcs took her over two hills and the smelly animal traveled rapidly for several long minutes. She could hear the one she spoke with laughing behind her. Another hand halted her escape.
"You must remain with us for your safety." This one also used her language, although he sported brown hair. "Come, we will return you to your kind." He mounted and reached for her hand and hauled her behind him on his tall horse.
From her high perch, Lióni looked around and her rescuers were moving in the opposite direction she chose. She let her gaze rest on the backs of those who appeared to be in charge and then gasped. The one she spoke with was riding the largest elk she ever saw. "I would love to ride that magnificent animal," she murmured aloud.
'She wants a ride, Thranduil.' Celeborn spoke in his mind.
'Maybe we should leave her for the orcs,' Thranduil replied.
'We could. Galadriel will read my mind to see why I'm so happy and then I'll be forced to listen to a nagging Ñoldor wife for the next hundred years on the breaking of a treaty and the war that will ensue. Give the dwarf a ride, if nothing else so I have peace in my bed.'
'At least you have a wife to bed,' Thranduil testily replied. "Bring the dwarf to me," he ordered in Sindarin.
Demythel rode beside the elk and without breaking stride reached around and snagged her by slipping fingers into the top of her armor and lifted her to sit in front of Thranduil.
Lióni quickly shed a glove and reached out to stroke the soft velvet tine that angled closest to her. "I got to fly with Gandalf on the back a great eagle when we crossed the Redwater and now to ride a wild elk. This trip has been magical."
"Mithrandir has a soft spot for dwarves. He has never taken my advice."
Lióni frowned and glanced up over her shoulder. "I don't know that name."
"You know him as Gandalf or Tharkûn." Thranduil wondered at his having a conversation with a lowly dwarf lass and was about to toss her back to Demythel when she spoke again."
"You've proven adept in the language of my race. I have a question." She twisted further as to look up into his face. "What are you?"
"Master of Middle Earth," Thranduil joked down at her, but withheld his natural smile to appear stern.
"I think Gandalf will take issue of you stealing his title," she retorted with spunk for her small size.
He couldn't keep the smile back and decided for a dwarf, she was tolerable. "How about King Thranduil of the Woodland Realm."
"Well, King Thranduil of the Woodland Realm; what are you? I'm familiar with men of the East, called Easterlings. They raided the dwarves of North Orocarni and took the leader's wife and killed her. That's where King Thorin was severely injured, but what race are you?"
Thranduil smirked at Thorin's king title, but honored the message Thráin sent him not to disclose his living to this band of misfits. "We are the firstborn. You know us as elves."
"Oh, you're that Thranduil!" she exclaimed.
"There is no other, I assure you," he responded with humor in his tone. "You've heard of me?"
"I listened to talk around the fires at night and when King Thorin was in our home, he told us all about the great battle and elves who helped. It's funny, when he mentioned your name; it always was preceded by prissy elf."
Thranduil broke into laughter and heard Celeborn laughing in his mind. "He is lucky his….," he broke off. "Well he still needs to spend his honeymoon in my dungeon. Did you convince that hard headed dwarfling to marry you?"
She colored and wondered how Thranduil knew she was to marry a Durin. "I know the King will marry. I told him I wasn't interested to choose another. How did you know he was coming all the way to Jötunheim to gather available lasses and take them back to the Lonely Mountain?"
"I didn't. He didn't confide in me his plans. It came as a surprise," Thranduil easily lied. Silently he added to Celeborn, at his side, 'Thorin was sent personally to get that traitor dwarf who caused Thráin to be attacked. I plan on escorting the dwarves into the mountain because I want to be present when they come face to face with him.'
'Do I have to tag along? I could return to your keep and relax in your mineral pools with all the wine I care to drink.'
'You are coming. I know how much you consume.' Done with Celeborn, he spoke aloud in Khuzdul. "Are you the only dwarven lass coming to be bartered to a Durin, or are their others vying for Thorin's considerable charms?"
"I'm the only one considered of rank for a Durin," Lióni answered and had a thought. "Thorin did something odd…"
Thranduil again laughed. "That is normal for him."
"Buying books on elven ladies is normal for him?" She queried, unsure if being teased.
Celeborn looked at her with more interest than he showed a dwarf in two ages of the world, although he stayed silent.
"What would Thorin want with a book about elven ladies?" Thranduil answered with his own question.
"Thorin said it was a book of all important female elves who married in Middle Earth. I had it in my bedchamber and was looking at the gowns and jewelry, but couldn't read the words. Thorin took it and to our surprise, both he and Dwalin were able to read the Cirth. He read a passage about an elf named Celebrían and her wedding gown."
Celeborn flashed back to that day. Celebrían gracefully walked into their sitting room at Imladris and he saw her gown for the first time just hours before she was taken from him forever. He took her hands and kissed her brow, careful not to muss one hair or knew his own celebration might involve abstinence. She was a gorgeous vison of ice in her pale blue gown shimmering with silver embroidery. Celebrían chose silver as her metal for all wedding paraphernalia and her personal jewelry. He could afford any metal she chose and insisted on highest quality from a dwarven mine in the White Mountains… He heard the word Ríllas and Thranduil draw a sharp breath.
"Thorin and Dwalin both reacted to the name and then shut up. I wish I knew who this Ríllas was?" Lióni wistfully asked in general.
"She was my wife," Thranduil answered without emotion. "I take it the purchased book is still with the caravan?"
"I'll ask Lord Dwalin."