Thorin fought savagely and bodies fell under the slashes of Orcrist. Hope surged in his breast when the sky darkened with the bodies of ravens joining the fray. He tried to block small bodies falling lifeless all around him from his mind when orcs turned their attention to his protectors and slew them in great numbers. He looked again for an escape route and saw an opening. He took one step and tripped over the body of a slain orc. Before he could gain footing, he was dragged by his hair and collar to a kneeling position with scimitar at his throat.
"Call yer little buggers off or they will watch you die!"
Thorin had never seen an orc that looked quite like this one, so called out, "All ravens, cease your attack." He saw those able take flight and circle over his location as they were taught to do.
"You are worth much, Oakenshield." The apparent leader was in his face and his foul breath almost made Thorin hurl and he was glad he hadn't eaten breakfast or was sure it would be running down the shirt of this strange, tall orc with hair.
"Thrak ta gazat u goth e."
Thorin heard the black speech coming from behind him and was pulled abruptly to his feet and dragged before a tall being in a black robe holding a staff with a crystal on top. The light shrouded the face of the being, but he knew it must be a dark wizard that wore a cloak of black that he encountered just outside Jötunheim.
"This is a pleasant surprise, son of Thráin," the voice boomed and Thorin knew he had heard it before. "You will make an excellent gift to Lord Sauron."
"Sauron's mark said dead," an orc objected in broken Westron.
"Because he didn't think anyone capable of taking him alive," Saruman snapped.
"We were promised the halls of Erebor," a being at Saruman's side silkily insinuated and Thorin's eyes were drawn to it. In the distance he heard the horn calling dwarves to battle and knew the ravens informed the mountain. He was stunned at what he saw. It looked like a small elf, but had black skin and silver color hair and bright violet eyes. Whether it female or male, he hadn't a clue.
"Patience, my lady." The wizard answered Thorin's question as to gender. "First we weaken the leadership with the deaths of all Durin's and then the halls will become the new home of the Trow when once again dwarves will be routed by another dragon."
"We gave you shelter in the dark tunnels beneath the mountain and now is the time for you to pay. Take your half-orc army and clear the dwarves from the land like you promised us," she insisted.
"I need my army to make sure once the elves are gone, we have no trouble defeating that rabble band of dwarves," Saruman haughtily replied. He didn't mind divulging secrets in front of this soon to be thrall of Sauron. He would rather have had Thranduil, but this lesser subject would please his dark master also.
"Bring my horse," the wizard ordered, "and one for the former king of all dwarves." He sneered down at Thorin and then laughed.
Thorin tried again to break away from his captors and found an easy move to escape regular orcs was met with much improved agility by this new creation. He needed to get word to the mountain and started screaming all he witnessed to the ravens.
"Bring Oakenshield," the dark wizard ordered when the horses arrived and Thorin felt strong, rough hands grab his upper arms. He went limp and slipped out of their unsuspecting grasp to the ground where Orcrist lay forgotten. He rolled and came up slashing. The two who grabbed him lay dying with slashes; first to legs and then throats. Others had to make a choice, stay and try and re-capture the dwarf or flee for their lives as arrows now reigned down upon them. Those who took a second too long to decide died in their tracks.
Before Saruman escaped, he rode to where Thorin stood and swinging his long staff with all his might watched it connect against the dwarf's head. He hoped it a killing blow and caused the line of Thráin's male heirs to end as Sauron ordered. He would like to impart at least some success in this campaign to his master. Not taking time to insure Thorin was dead, he made haste to a ravine, throwing a blanket of white light confusion over the elves entering the meadow.
Glorfindel wanted to pursue, but Elrond called him to halt and secure the area. Glorfindel felt he knew the wizard from his presence and was frustrated his attempts to identify the wizard before the Valar was met with being denied that knowledge.
Thorin moaned as a hand kept slapping his face. He forced his eyes open and looked up into the concerned faces of Dwalin and Dáin. He slapped Dáin's hand away before it connected again and was rewarded with a chuckle from each of them. "How did I end up in this undignified position?"
Elrond arrived and immediately pushed the dwarven lords aside and helped Thorin sit up. "No, don't stand until I have a chance to examine you. You have a rather large, bloody welt on the side of your head. You get injured more than any dwarf I've ever met."
Thorin reached to where a throbbing pain radiated outward and felt a goose egg size lump. He looked around and the meadow he was in now housed hundreds of dwarves and elves. "Because I have more enemies than any dwarf you ever met," he ground out and remembered. "I was captured by the dark wizard."
"The ravens carried all your messages to us," Dwalin informed him. "We will tell you what was said and see if that brings forth more memories."
"Where is the wizard now?" Thorin wanted to stand and grabbed Elrond's hand to stop the healing. "Let me up…..now."
Elrond carefully helped him to his unstable feet. "Let me provide healing and then I want you in a bed for the rest of the day. I offer my healing tents to you."
Thorin glared at him and his eyes rolled back in his head and Elrond caught his unconscious body. He scooped the prince into his arms and called for his horse.
"We'll escort the king ta yer healing tent," Dáin called at the back of the elven lord as he hurried away.
"Secure the mountain entrance all the way to our compound," Celeborn ordered Glorfindel, who in turn organized the four realms of warriors.
The massive doors opened wide when most of the army reached the mountain and marched inside with Dwalin and Dáin at their head. The Company dogged their footsteps and remained close, wishing to hear the leaders address the king and maybe learn more, for it was only those two who were close enough to speak with Thorin.
Thráin was waiting just inside the doors, with Gandalf to one side and Bombur, Balin, Dori and young Thorin lurking on the other. As soon as the massive doors opened, Lord Erestor ran to the elven compound. Elrond had sent him a silent message that Thorin was injured and he was needed.
Dáin, the more loquacious of the two, gave the report. "Thorin was indeed on the mountain an we reached the meadow just in time ta see the dark wizard slam his staff against Thorin's head an send ah white flash over the area. When we could see again, he an all still living that was with him were gone."
"An my son?" Thráin quietly asked.
"With the elves being treated by Lord Elrond. We're here ta escort ye ta him."
"But not before you are properly attired in armor and sporting all your weapons," Balin all but ordered the king. He looked around and saw Picket. With hand signals, he conveyed what to bring. "Picket will be right back, M'lord."
Dóvad stayed out of the Company's way, but now pushed forward at hearing Thorin was injured. "Shouldn't his intended be with him right now?"
Everyone looked to Thráin and he gave the order. "Fetch the lass an she'll go with me."
"An me also," Dóvad insisted and was relieved when the king nodded.
Gandalf was silent during the exchange. To have one of the dark wizards so close and to learn for certain he had been turned weighed heavily on his heart. Still when the large group left the mountain with the king in the center of the Company and many seasoned guards, he was at his side. He would fight to the death for this dwarven king.
Elves also waited to provide extra security and Gandalf saw the entire elven encampment readied for battle. He was sure by the end of the day, the ladies of Celeborn and Elrond would be inside the mountain when darkness fell.
Lióni was instructed to stay by her father's side and only told Thorin took a blow to the head, but not any detail of how it happened.
Erestor met the group at the edge of the elven compound and exchanged a very somber look with Gandalf before addressing Thráin. "King Thráin, your son is awake and acting very much like a dwarf. We would appreciate if you would order him to cooperate with Lord Elrond."
Mirth resounded through the group and all but Gandalf smiled.
Thráin led the large assemblage into the healing tent where a plethora of elven guards stood as statues. On the tall table, Thorin was arguing with Elrond and he let his son know he was there. "Let the elf treat ye, or I'll have Óin give ye something vile ta make ye sleep."
Óin, with trumpet in his ear, grinned.
Thorin shut up and put his head back on the table as everyone ringed him, with elven lords standing close behind the dwarves to hear the tale.
Lióni was thrust by her father to Thorin's head and she saw a bloody lump that had to hurt. It pained her to see him thus.
Thorin saw the lass and his eyes darkened in anger. "You shouldn't be here, but safe in the mountain." He reached for her hand, which she grasped like a lifeline and held on tight.
"Her place is by yer side," Dóvad protested.
"Not if her life is in danger," Thorin spat back at him. His head was immobilized and he shifted his gaze upwards to see who had him in a vice grip. It was Glorfindel and he was shining with the light of another land and his head began to feel better.
"Elrond is going to put a few stitches in your thick skull," Glorfindel informed his patient. "In the meantime, I will hold you immobile."
"Hrrrmmp," was all Thorin managed as the first prick of a needle made talking impossible.
"I'm in full armor," Lióni reminded her intended, hoping to take his mind off the needle going in and out and thread being pulled through hide. It almost made her sick to watch, but she had to be strong for her intended. It wouldn't do for the future queen to be queasy. Still she averted her eyes and gazed into his and continued. "Besides, with all this elven protection, I could be back in the mountain before anything got too close to me."
"Nazgûl could," Thorin ground out through his pain; even though Elrond gave him herbs that took the edge off and Glorfindel helped with his healing skills. Still, getting a head wound sutured pained him greatly and he ground his teeth.
"I saw them fighting the Great Eagles," Lióni admitted. "Now, why were you outside the mountain? Don't you know the elves and Gandalf instructed all dwarves to stay inside?"
There was laughter at her chastising tone from dwarves and elves.
Thranduil grinned broadly. "Reminds me of my dear Ríllas. Only she would have her sword at my throat while asking the questions."
"I'm not saying you don't have protection...," Thorin ground through clinched teeth and winced. "Do ya have ta be so blasted rough?" he snarled Khuzdul slang at Elrond.
"I'm done, master dwarf," Elrond replied and handed his needle to a servant, but remained at Thorin's head to wrap the wound.
An elf entered the tent and motioned for Glorfindel. Outside the tent, he gave his report. Glorfindel imparted orders and quickly stepped back inside in time to hear Thorin speak softly to his intended.
"I'm glad you are here on the other hand," Thorin squeezed her fingers. "You are so much easier on the eyes than the Company and even the male elves."
Lióni smiled at him. "Will you tell me what took you from the safety of the mountain?"
"When we are alone, I promise."
"We have identities on those we killed," Glorfindel interrupted and moved again to Elrond's side, where all attention focused on him. "We killed four Uruk-hai and one Trow."
Most of the elves gave a rare display of surprise by raising eyebrows.
"So Sauron is raising another army," Celeborn stated aloud. "I've heard rumors that men freely bred with orcs and were paid in gold to produce a hybrid that is now grown in the dank mud pits of Mordor and comes out fully grown and ready to fight. I will look them over."
"The ravens reported the words Thorin said to them, even though they didn't know the meaning. The word Trow was used. What is a Trow?" Dáin asked for all dwarves.
"Something not seen for thousands of years, since the War of Wrath when they fought on the side of Morgoth," Círdan explained. "It is said they came into being when Morgoth captured original elves that awakened at Cuiviénen and experimented on them to the point they were no longer First Born, but a cross between elf and wicked spirits. I haven't seen one since that great war and would like to see one again. I thought them long perished from the land."
With his memory piqued, Thorin added forgotten details and remembered the conversation with the dark wizard, down to repeating the black speech command to have him taken before the wizard. He tried to recall every detail and felt sure he left nothing out.
"We are seeing an influx of old and new creations," Elrond commented when Thorin fell silent. "I'm putting you into a healing sleep, Prince Thorin. You did well in telling the ravens all you saw."
Thorin remembered why he needed to visit Gandalf and he shook his head. "Before you do, could I have a private word with Gandalf, Dwalin and Lióni?"
Everyone looked surprised and Elrond nodded his head. "We'll just step outside. When done, you need to rest."
Alone, Thorin pulled Lióni in for a kiss and Gandalf smiled down at them. All was going according to his plans.
"I'm sorry for letting my guard down," Thorin apologized to both of them.
"And why did you?" Gandalf asked him sternly.
"I wanted to give Lióni a bouquet of mountain flowers," he confessed sheepishly.
Dwalin roared with laughter that was heard without and everyone wondered what was happening inside the healing tent. They all looked at Galadriel and she just smiled back at them. "It's none of our business what they are discussing," she reminded them.
"It's never stopped you before," Círdan complained.
Back inside the tent, Gandalf all but hit both of the dwarrow. "I'm sure Lass Lióni will live without flowers. Thorin, what has come over you?"
"What comes over every dwarrow this close to his wedding," Thorin snapped back. "Look, Dwalin and I need to talk to you about something important."
Gandalf sighed and waved his hand for Thorin to proceed. By the time Thorin was done laying out his case, Gandalf was beaming. "Yes, that's a grand idea. And since I have authority over King Thráin in Middle Earth, I agree and we'll rehearse in private. Too bad Princess Dis isn't here."
"I'll fill her in when I see her," Dwalin replied and was stunned he was also going to be wed in four days, providing Thorin was able to stand and say his vows.
With a final kiss to Thorin, Lióni allowed Dwalin to escort her outside where several dwarven and elven warriors escorted her swiftly back to the mountain.
"Lord Elrond, I return your patient to you," Gandalf declared. "Then we need a meeting most urgently, and King Thráin, I insist you and your most trusted lords also attend."
Thráin nodded and Círdan led the way to his tent. Seeing a certain elf, he stopped and addressed him. "Amalan, please stand guard at the healing tent housing Prince Thorin of the dwarves."
Amalan bowed to Círdan and hurried from the presence of those great lords. He was aware word of how he treated Thorin reached their ears and saw the cold look Celeborn, Erestor and especially Glorfindel gave him. He hero worshiped the Balrog slayer and to have him disappointed in him made him regret all over his treatment of the dwarf. Now it seemed his punishment was beginning. He was starting to think he escaped notice, but to be called out in front of those powerful leaders was extremely humiliating.
Dwalin wanted to hurry to Dis, but knew his place as head General was at Thráin's side, especially with foes this close to the mountain.
Outside a tent were those killed and all stopped to examine the bodies.
"This new, improved orc is faster and smarter and some have been seen living in towns of men," Celeborn informed the group. "See how they have hair and wear clothes. That is the human in them."
"What about this one?" Thráin pointed to the small looking elf with black skin and silver hair.
"Thousands of years ago, the elves that were captured bred with something evil and created this new species," Galadriel explained. "They are mostly harmless and live underground, but give their allegiance to Sauron because he twisted their minds against all good in Middle Earth. They are not immortal, like elves, but longer lived than dwarves. Up until now, they lived in the tunnels of the mountains of the Haradwaith. Sauron is moving his forces north for the upcoming war."
Círdan asked, "Is everyone done looking at them?" There were nods all around and he motioned for guards. "Have these bodies burned."
"This was taken off one body," a guard stated and handed a scrap of leather to Círdan.
Círdan felt evil emanating from the message and quickly handed it to Elrond, who just joined them from placing Thorin in a healing sleep. "This is your area of expertise."
Elrond looked at the bodies in disgust and stalked inside Círdan's tent directly to a barrel of fine wine. He tossed the scrap onto the table and wiped his hands on his tunic before grabbing a goblet.
"So they think they can drive us from the mountain again." Thráin started the meeting.
"It sounds like they are giving Erebor to the Trows," Gandalf agreed.
Elrond downed his glass of wine and reached for the offending message. "It says, The master will reward the one who brings the head of Oakenshield with ten mistresses and ten Wargs and a legion of goblins to do their bidding. He threw the message onto the table and all could see black speech Cirth in charcoal.
"I want all our exterior tunnels searched an cleared of orcs an Trows," Thráin told his lords. "I'm sure the dark wizard resides in one of the many played out mine shafts near here."
"Nay, King Thráin," Gandalf vetoed the idea. "It is way too dangerous for dwarves to take on any wizard. I will stay and lead your army into those dank tunnels, but first we have a wedding to attend."
"Is my son going ta be able ta attend his own wedding?" Thráin's question had dwarves laughing and elves smiling.
"I will make sure he is well enough," Elrond promised. "I am only planning on keeping him today and tonight. He should be safely back inside the mountain by morning. How you are going to keep him there is up to you."
"Dáin, break out the leg irons," Thráin ordered and everyone laughed this time.
Bain was bored. Being stuck inside his father's house with his sisters for company wasn't what he had planned this day. When the dwarven horn sounded early that morning, waking him up, he was sure it would mean excitement. Elves rushed to Dale and ordered everyone inside their homes because evil was once again close.
"You need to start packing, Bain," Sigrid reminded him.
"Pack what?"
"Your clothes and anything you want to take with you," she reminded him.
"I don't have anything I'm not ashamed to be seen in," he spouted back. "Don't worry; I'll be ready when the elves leave next week."
Bard entered and closed the door securely behind him. He smiled at his children to allay their fears the news he heard from the elves. "Is there anything to eat?"
Sigrid shook her head. "I needed to go to the market and it's been closed all day."
"I'm starving," young Tilda piped in.
"I'll go and round something up. I'm sure other households are like ours, so will make sure everyone has something in their bellies before night." He quickly stepped out again and ran to the Great Hall, where he ordered a horn blast signaling all men to him. When all were gathered, he laid out his plan and told them why the dwarves were seen with elves scurrying up the mountain at first light. "Get food from the storehouse for your families for three days," he ordered. "We don't know the numbers out there or who they plan on attacking, but we shouldn't make a tempting target. If all is well on the day Thorin weds, the town will be open as normal."
He led the way to the storehouse and oversaw the dispersal of food. Lastly, he took two loaves of bread and enough locally grown vegetables for stew and oats for breakfast.
Thorin woke late in the afternoon and his head felt much better. He sat and started to swing his legs over the side of the cot.
"And where are you going?"
He looked annoyed at the owner of the voice. "I'm going home to my own bed, Lord Elrond. Why are you sitting with me anyway? Don't you have anything better to do?"
Elrond looked somberly at his cantankerous patient. "I plan on seeing you wed in a few days and soon afterwards am taking my elves and going home before winter reaches High Pass. Although I will travel much faster than when we came, have been gone from Rivendell way too long."
"And my wedding is why I need to be inside the mountain right now. I made arrangements to meet with Gandalf for rehearsal tonight."
"Mithrandir told me of your plans and I moved your rehearsal to tomorrow night." This time he did let a small smile escape.
"Maybe I just want to be with my intended." Thorin changed tactics.
"Oh, I have no doubt of that. When I was three days from being wed, all I wanted to do was bask in my dear Celebrían's arms and read her poetry."
Thorin laid back on the cot and let Elrond place a second pillow under his head and shoulders, elevating him to a reclining position. Comfortable, he inquired, "Tell me about elven weddings."
Elrond perched on a stool by the cot. "They don't usually start with the groom almost being beheaded, although I'm sure most fathers of the brides thought about it."
Thorin chuckled, "Not Dóvad. He was in despair his daughter would ever say yes to a dwarrow."
"Well, I know for a fact, Celeborn would have wiped the floor with me for being the one to win his daughter's hand. There was this one ellon, err, elf, he threw off a balcony for daring to ask for Celebrían's hand one too many times."
"What kind of dowries do the brides come with?" Thorin knew the day before the wedding was the formal presenting of a dowry to Lord Dóvad for his daughter. Thorin was presenting it so had to be on his feet for the formal treaty. He already had everything set aside and was sure Dóvad would be happy and rich enough to retire if so desired.
"We don't have dowries like dwarves, but it is customary for elves to discretely inquire as to the finances of the one who will marry their daughter and make sure there is sufficient means to support her and any elfling that may be born."
Thorin smirked. "And how did Lord Celeborn ask you?"
Elrond grinned at the memory. "I was in my office one month before the wedding when Celeborn barged in and ordered Erestor to leave us. I wanted to protest and was sure a dressing down was to ensue by his tone. Erestor, that coward, all but ran from the room. He went straight to Celebrían to find out what her father was up to.
"Thankfully, she didn't know, but Celeborn in his subtle way came right out and asked, 'Peredhil, how are you going to support my daughter?' I responded with, 'The same manner that I've been supporting all you freeloaders these past ten years; by working hard, planting more, being a judicious keeper of the community Lord Círdan made me leader and utilizing your daughters vast skills as my right hand.' I had been planning that memorized speech for years and was glad my voice didn't quiver when delivering."
Thorin grinned and looked over Elrond's shoulder.
"And I responded with, 'Pour me a glass of wine for all that bloviating.'"
Elrond swiveled on the stool and laughed. "I'm not scared of you any longer. Now I would have a much different answer."
Celeborn glared. "I should have taken your offspring as my own. When your daughter weds, the young man will also answer to me as if I were her adar. After all the centuries she's spent in my talon, I also claim her."
The smile dropped off Elrond's face. "I hope she sails long before that cursed day arrives."
Thorin, listening, wondered what they meant, for usually a wedding was a happy time. Even inside the mountain with fell beings wanting to hurt him and disrupt the wedding, everyone was smiling and singing happy, upbeat tunes and the mountain rang with joy. Everyplace he went, blessings for a long and prosperous marriage complete with many dwarflings followed him.