"Estel!" Fili cried, racing me to the boy.
Estel didn't respond. The flickering torches mounted on the walls cast ominous shadows over his still form. Fili dropped to his knees beside him, hands fluttering about his body without daring to touch.
I reached him a moment later, laying one hand gently across his chest, and the other against his neck. His pulse jumped beneath my fingers like a frightened rabbit, but for several sickening seconds his chest neither rose nor fell.
"Estel," I called, shaking him gently.
He coughed, then wheezed, struggling to breathe. I grasped his shoulders and sat him up, hoping to make it easier for him.
"Estel, are you all right?" Fili asked shakily, his face marble white.
Estel sputtered and coughed again as he attempted to nod his head.
"What were you thinking?" I growled at Fili.
"It was ... my idea," Estel panted, his voice raspy.
"Shosh," I said, "save your breath."
Fili began to cry. "I'm so sorry, Estel," he said. "It was an accident."
"Fili, you should know better," I hissed. "Humans are not built like dwarves."
"I'm okay," Estel rasped.
"Does it hurt?" Fili asked.
Estel started to shake his head no, but reconsidered under my stern gaze and nodded yes, instead.
"Let's take a look at your chest," I said. "You're sure to have an awful bruise."
Fili lifted the boy's tunic with shaking hands, and winced at the large red welt dominating his thin chest.
"I should not have agreed to spar with you, Estel," he said. "Dwarves grow much thicker hides than humans do."
"We need to take him to his mother," I said. "Estel, can you walk?"
"Yes, I'm fine," he insisted, wincing as he attempted to stand. Gripping him under the arms, I lifted him to his feet.
"Bofur, you go back to our chambers," Fili said. "There's no reason for you to be implicated in this."
I froze at his words. I hadn't yet considered the trouble we'd soon find ourselves in.
"No. Fili, you go back to our chambers and tell Borin what happened. I'll take the boy to his mother," I said.
I gritted my teeth, not liking what I knew I must do. I had sworn to protect Thorin and his nephews. I knew not what punishment awaited Fili, but I knew my duty.
Fili gaped at me. "But–"
"Go now," I said. "Tell Borin."
He wavered for a moment, fresh tears welling in his eyes. I glared at him until he nodded meekly and ran off.
"Let's go find your mother, then," I sighed, supporting the boy under one arm.
Tears rolled silently down Estel's dirty cheeks as we walked toward the chambers he shared with his mother.
"Does it hurt very badly?" I asked.
"No," he mumbled between sniffles.
"Are you worried about punishment, then?" I asked.
He nodded. "It's my fault. Fili only agreed to meet me after I begged him."
"Listen," I said to him. "Fili knew the rule and chose to disobey it. Borin will work something out with Elrond and your mother. And I'll make sure nothing happens to him."
Estel nodded, his eyes red and swollen but dry for the moment.
"Is your mother very strict?" I asked. "How does she usually punish you?"
"I've never been in trouble before," Estel said, his eyes growing shiny again.
"Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later," I said, giving his shoulder a light squeeze. "I got myself in plenty of trouble as a lad. Trust me, there are worse troubles to get yourself into. If your mother is anything like mine, she will worry mainly over your injury."
Estel lead me along a cobblestone path to a secluded wing of the main house. A small garden overflowing with peas, beans, and squash surrounded it. Orange-gold lamplight spilled from the windows, lighting our way to the door.
The door banged open as we approached. A tall, stately woman with dark hair swept toward us, grabbing Estel and clutching him fiercely to her before I could warn her to treat him gently. She was younger than I had expected, hardly old enough to be mother to a boy of ten. She must have been barely more than a child herself when she birthed him.
The boy gasped in pain, his face turning a sickly green.
"Estel, where have you been?" she said, her delicate brows furrowing.
"You must be Gilraen," I said. "I'm sorry to return your son home to you so late, but we were sparring in the training yard and had an accident."
Her eyebrows shot up, then lowered into a scowl.
"You were sparring?" she said incredulously. "Estel, is this true?"
"Yes," he said hesitantly, "but–"
I cleared my throat in an effort to signal him to stop there.
"He's just a boy!" she shouted at me, clasping the boy to her protectively.
"Yes, I know," I said. "Dwarves take up axes and hammers as soon as we can walk."
"He is not a dwarf!" Gilraen yelled, two angry red splotches coloring her fair cheeks.
"Yes, my lady, I understand," I said. "I can see now it was a mistake. Especially with his injury–"
The red splotches darkened. "Injury?" she asked, turning to her son again. "Estel, where are you hurt?"
"Just my chest," he said. "It barely even hurts."
"Show me," she said, her mouth a tight line.
Sheepishly, he lifted his shirt to expose the dark red welt spreading across his chest. Gilraen gasped.
"You did this?" she yelled at me.
"Yes," I said, dropping my eyes. "It was an accident."
"Wait–" Estel began, but she cut him off.
"Come inside, I'll have the housekeeper fetch Elrond," she said, turning Estel forcefully around and pushing him toward the door.
I began to follow, but she whirled on me.
"Not you!" she yelled. "You stay right here, and wait."
"I'll wait right here," I agreed.
The door slammed behind them. I stood outside, my shoulders slumped, wondering what kind of punishment awaited me. Banishment, perhaps. Or a fine. I had melted down all my silver to make Fevelien's hair clip, and would shave my beard before I let them take it. Maybe a lashing. I thought I might actually prefer that. Elrond did not seem cruel, but I doubted the elves would shy away from whipping a dwarf. Imladan might even volunteer for the duty.
The door opened again and Suiloril emerged, lantern in hand.
"How is the boy?" I asked.
She glared silently at me as she strode past. I watched the lantern bob away through the deepening dark.
Whatever the punishment, it was better I take it than Fili. My thoughts circled around various unpleasant scenarios for the next few minutes, until I saw the lantern come bobbing back. Suiloril was accompanied by a harried-looking Elrond this time. His normally mild expression had turned dour.
"Bofur, is it?" Elrond asked.
"Yes," I said, thinking, I also go by Raenor.
"Wait here for me," he said, disappearing into the house with Suiloril at his heels.
Now my thoughts turned to Fevelien's reaction. A wave of nausea washed over me as Bombur's words replayed in my head: You know she could kill you instantly if you gave her a reason. I had given her a reason. It wasn't death I worried about, but disappointing her.
Elrond emerged alone a few minutes later and said, "Come with me."
He led me back along the cobblestone path to yet another entrance into the house. I vaguely recognized it from the tour Fevelien had led us on two weeks before.
"Is the boy going to be alright?" I asked.
"He will be fine," Elrond said, sounding tired. "He has a bruised sternum. Several days rest and cold compresses are all he needs."
"That's a relief," I said.
"Gilraen wishes for you to have no more contact with him," he said, gesturing for me to enter the house ahead of him. "Gandalf and Thorin will meet us in my private library to discuss further consequences."
I exhaled and nodded, reminding myself that I had expected this.
We walked up a short flight of stairs, then down a long hallway, finally stopping at an ornately carved wood door. Elrond ushered me inside. I marveled at the many shelves of books lining the walls before noticing Thorin and Gandalf standing beside a long wood desk. Another elf stood with them, glaring at me.
Elrond sighed as he joined the group, clasping his hands before him. My eyes were drawn to the gold band on his left index finger. I'd heard no mention of his spouse; I hadn't known he had one.
"This is my counselor, Erestor," Elrond said, his starry gray eyes penetrating mine. "Aside from me, he alone is aware of your quest. Please tell us exactly what happened."
Gandalf smiled encouragingly at me, while Thorin eyed me sympathetically. I took a deep breath.
"I met Estel in the training yard to spar after dark," I said. "We were startled by Fili coming through the gate. The boy dropped his sword arm just as I swung my axe, and before I could stop myself, I accidentally struck him in the chest."
"What was Fili doing in the training yard?" Elrond asked, raising an eyebrow at Thorin.
I shrugged. "Probably heard us and wondered what was going on inside. We'd left the gate ajar, so he may have peeked in."
"What possessed you, a full-grown dwarf, to spar with a young human boy?" Elrond asked.
I coughed. "He asked," I said, hoping that Elrond would take me at my word.
Gandalf turned first to Thorin, then Elrond, and finally Erestor. "Are you satisfied?" he asked.
It was hard to gauge Elrond, as his eyes gleamed warmly while his posture remained stern. Erestor sighed and shook his head.
"Why would the boy ask you to spar with him?" he asked.
Here I faced a conundrum. I didn't know how much Fevelien had revealed of our previous training sessions when she sought permission to train the boy. She hadn't told us anything about this conversation, only that Estel had permission to train with her and Calearphen. I didn't want to inadvertently implicate her, as well.
"We met while walking in the gardens, and became friendly that way," I said, sticking close to the truth. "I believe he is eager to spar with anyone who is willing."
"Thank you for your honesty," Thorin said to me, signaling to me with a gesture that he knew the truth.
Elrond frowned. "There needs to be some sort of punishment," he said. "Gilraen doesn't want Bofur to have any further contact with her son."
"That is understandable," Thorin said.
"I believe banishment would be appropriate in this situation," said Erestor.
"You may banish him with my blessing as soon as our business here is done," Thorin said. "We'll depart on midsummer's day."
"That's more than a week away," Erestor protested. "I think for Gilraen's peace of mind he should be escorted out tonight."
My entire body went cold at his words. I wouldn't even have the opportunity to say goodbye to Fevelien.
"Now, Erestor, I don't believe the punishment need be that severe," Gandalf said. "There are other ways to separate him from the boy. The only place where they have interacted is the training yard."
"Are you suggesting that we only disallow him from training? That hardly seems a punishment at all!" Erestor said.
It is, actually, I wanted to say, thinking of Fevelien.
"Gandalf is right, banishing one of my guards over an accident hardly seems fair," Thorin said. "Keeping him out of the training yard is more appropriate. I believe training has become a distraction from his duties, if I'm being honest. Keeping him in our chambers, away from distractions, would benefit us all."
"That simply isn't enough," Erestor said. "This accident could have killed the boy."
I moved to speak, but both Thorin and Gandalf warned me with glances to remain silent.
"How about this," Elrond said. "Bofur will remain within your chambers for the remainder of your stay here, and the training will cease altogether. I believe it has become a distraction for more than one of your company, Thorin."
Thorin's face reddened, and I thought he might argue. After a glance from Gandalf he reconsidered and nodded.
"Very well. That is agreeable to me," Thorin said.
Erestor nodded begrudgingly. "I think Gilraen will find that acceptable," he said.
"What about the stables?" I asked. "Will I be allowed to tend to my pony?"
"We have stablehands to tend to your pony," Erestor said.
"Will you see that someone gives her her nightly apple?" I asked Thorin. "And brushes out her mane and tail?"
"We'll see that she is properly cared for," Thorin said.
"You will be responsible for guarding him for the duration of your stay," Elrond said. "Someone must remain posted in your chambers with him at all hours of the day and night."
"His brother and cousin will be of service. They are much more reliable sorts," Thorin said, clearly enjoying this charade.
"Your nephews may want to serve as well," Gandalf said. "especially Fili, as your heir."
"Ahh, yes, good suggestion," Thorin said. "It will do Fili good to exercise his authority."
"Since this matter is settled, I release Bofur into your custody," Elrond said, escorting us to the door.
Gandalf, Thorin, and I walked back to our chambers together. Once we were well out of the elves' earshot, Thorin exhaled and gripped my shoulder.
"Fili told me what happened," he said. "That was quite a performance, just now."
"I'm having second thoughts," I said. "I think I'd rather take a lashing than be stuck inside for the duration of our stay."
"Elves are not men," Gandalf said with a chuckle. "Lashings are not to their taste, whatever stories you may have heard."
Of course, I could not tell them that remaining inside would stop me from visiting Fevelien.
Would she be allowed to visit? I wondered. And would she want to?
A very worried Bombur and Bifur met us at the door to our rooms. They pulled me inside and began patting me all over, as if they could not believe I was still whole and intact.
"Bofur is not to leave the premises for the rest of our stay here," Thorin said.
"Pay up," Gloín said to Dori, holding out his hand expectantly.
"What? No, you didn't bet on Fili slipping up," Dori said.
"I bet that Bofur would be the next to land in trouble, and he has – technically, anyway," Gloín said smugly.
"No more wagering!" Thorin roared.
"Why did you lie for me?" Fili asked, still looking shaken.
"What would be more embarrassing to the company: Thorin's heir facing banishment, or the fool who's been testing his luck this entire time by flirting with an elf?"
"This isn't a joke, nadad," Bombur cried, "This is serious!"
"You did nothing wrong," Fili said. "I should be the one facing punishment. I was very foolish, I see now."
"Will the boy be all right?" Bilbo asked.
"I believe so," I said. "Though there'll be no more sparring for him for awhile."
"There will be no more sparring for any of us," Thorin said.
Kili swatted his brother, shouting, "With a single swing of your axe you've blocked us all from training and cockblocked poor Bofur!"
"Kili," Thorin groaned.
"I'm sorry, everyone," Fili said, flopping into a chair. "Bofur, I will find a way to make it up to you, I promise," he said.
"I'm going to bed," I said, feeling suddenly tired and wanting to forget for awhile that my last few days with Fevelien were ruined.
I dreamt that I walked in on Fili sparring not with Estel, but with a shadow. Fili lunged at the impossibly tall, stretched-too-thin figure and fell backwards. I ran to him, slow as a glacier. A spear jutted from his chest, blood pooling about his body. His glassy eyes stared at the sky. His lips twitched, his voice rattling, "I'm sorry ... I'm sorry," over and over.
I woke in a cold sweat, found it still dark, and lay awake for a long while before I was able to drift off again.
I woke to mid-morning sun and bird song. For one blissful moment I forgot how the previous night had ended. Thinking I had overslept, I jumped up and began to dress for our sparring session. Then I remembered and bitter disappointment welled up within my chest.
I moped in the bath until my fingers and toes had wrinkled, then pushed hash browns and eggs around on my plate. Thorin had Fili deliver a note to the elves that morning to let them know we would no longer train with them.
The two bright spots of my day were the hours I spent smoothing Fevelien's hair clip and the ligature for my clarinet. I worked on the ligature out on the balcony, so that I could at least feel the sun on my face. I kept the hair clip hidden in my room.
I heard Bofur moving restlessly outside my bedchamber as I worked. Listening, perhaps, to make sure I was still there, and had not escaped out the window. He eyed me skeptically when I later emerged from my "nap."
I spent the first evening of my confinement playing my clarinet on the balcony. I hoped that Fevelien might hear me playing and come by. If she heard me, she never acknowledged it. I wondered whether she was angry with me, or whether she guessed at the truth. I wondered whether she was surprised or confused, and whether she had talked to anyone about me.
It pained me that I would never have another shot at the tournament, that I would never take another ride with Fevelien through the valley, and that I wouldn't be allowed another private conversation with her.
I wished I could talk to Bifur and Bombur about all of this. Instead I pined for her in miserable silence. The next afternoon, Bifur and Bombur offered to stay with me while everyone else went out. We picnicked on the balcony, and then for a change of pace sat ourselves on the steps for a game of cards.
"Do you think the steps count as part of our chambers?" Bombur asked.
"We'll find out if someone tells us to go inside. Now deal," Bifur said.
We were in the middle of our third hand when Bifur suddenly cleared his throat. When I didn't look up from my cards, he kicked my foot with his. I glanced over, irritated.
Fevelien is coming, he signaled.
I lifted my gaze to the path. She strode purposefully toward us, her expression stormy and her black hair flying free.
"Fevelien," I said, laying my cards aside. "Your visit is a pleasant surprise."
"I debated whether to come or not, and decided I needed to hear the story straight from you," she said, her voice clipped.
"Ahh," I said, feeling a sudden pang in my belly.
"Why did you do it, Bofur?" she said.
It stung when she did not use her name for me. I exhaled heavily, looking first to Bifur and next to Bombur, who shook his head slowly at me. He knew what I was considering. I wanted, more than anything, to speak honestly with her.
"The boy asked me to spar with him. I suppose he reminds me of my little cousins, and I wanted to be a good 'uncle' to him," I said, fighting to keep my voice even.
"I don't believe you," she said, disappointment lacing her words. "Why did you lie that night, and why do you lie to me now?"
"I'm not lying," I said, hating myself.
"What time did you tell Estel to meet you that night?" she asked, her eyes narrowing.
"After dark. There was no set time," I said, swallowing the bile rising up in my throat.
"So, you agreed to go out for a ride – knowing that you would be meeting him soon, and not knowing when you would be back," she said, a hard edge to her voice.
Bifur and Bombur exchanged a glance, their eyes widening at this revelation.
I cleared my throat. "Yes, but I guessed you wouldn't keep us out too long," I said, growing more disgusted with myself the more I lied.
"So, you let him wait there for you," she said, "while you drank more than half of the mead, knowing that you would be sparring with him later."
"Yes," I said weakly. "But we drink ale frequently before sparring each morning."
"Estel could have been killed." she said, her words cutting deep.
I had no response.
"Either you're lying to me now, or you purposely hid your very foolish intentions from me," she said, her body rigid and her voice cold. "I have no interest in friendship with someone who respects me so little."
She turned and walked away, her hair fluttering out behind her. I felt something break within me, sending floods of fire and ice up and down my body.
"Fevelien, wait!" I called after her.
She continued walking. Bifur and Bombur shot me warning glares.
"There are ... things that I can't reveal to you right now," I said. "I will tell you the truth when we next meet, I swear."
She slowed her steps but kept walking. Meanwhile, Bifur and Bombur hissed at me to shut my mouth. I watched her pass out of sight. I wanted to run after her, to plead with her to let me explain, to tell her the truth.
The three of us sat silent for a moment, our card game abandoned.
"What was that about going for a ride?" Bifur asked.
"And drinking mead?" Bombur added. "What have you done, nadad?"
"We met in the stable that night," I choked out. "It wasn't planned. She invited me to ride with her, and we shared mead. That's it. I was walking back when I overheard Fili and Estel sparring."
"So, if you hadn't gone riding with her, then you wouldn't have gotten yourself into trouble," Bombur said.
"And Fili might have gotten himself into worse trouble," Bifur said. "She's right, the lad could have been killed.
"I hate lying to her," I said, feeling my stomach roil.
"You must," Bombur said. "The elves cannot know the truth."
"She knows I am lying!" I said. "And even if she didn't, it's only a matter of time before the boy tells someone. He may have told his mother already."
"It's a terrible situation all around," Bifur said. "But you did the right thing."
"I did the wrong thing," I said. "I should have let Fili accompany the boy to his mother, like he wanted."
"Well, what's done is done," Bombur said, picking up his cards. "I think you keeping away from Fevelien will do you good in the end. You've developed an unhealthy infatuation with her."
"What? No!" I cried. "We are friends. We ... were friends. She does not want to be my friend any longer."
"That may well turn out for the best," Bifur said, laying down a set of eights.
Bombur frowned at his hand.
I abandoned my cards and dashed for the flowering shrub growing beside the steps, making it just in time to empty my stomach into its branches. I dragged myself upstairs and laid in bed for the rest of that day.
The next few days passed in a blur, without a set schedule to help me mark them. I spent long stretches in bed, but slept sporadically. I bathed and ate when Bifur and Bombur reminded me. I smoothed and polished Fevelien's hair clip, rinsing it with my tears. I hoped to find an opportunity to give it to her before we left. I wondered whether she would ever call me Raenor again.
To distract myself from the fervor that threatened to drown me, I began constructing a wooden box to keep the hair clip in. Bombur and Fili took turns staying with me for much of this time. Fili played his fiddle, trying to coax me to join in with my clarinet. Bombur worked on his toys. He found me so pathetic that he let me test them.
"Making another bird, I see," I said one day, as Bombur set out a half-finished bird. He'd completed the spring-work motor, and now he just needed to attach the wings. "You'll have a flock, soon enough."
"No, just this one and the other than pecks," he said.
"There was another that flapped it's wings, that makes three," I said.
"I don't have that one anymore," he said.
"What happened to it?" I asked.
His eyes grew round and darted away from mine.
"Bombur?" I asked. "What happened?"
"Nothing happened," he said, fidgeting with a pair of pliers. "I just don't have it anymore."
"Then who does?" I asked.
He squirmed in his seat, then whispered, "I gave it to Thaliel."
Now my eyes grew round. "When?" I asked.
"After the party," he said, cheeks flushing. "She liked it so much, and she'd given me the plum sauce recipe."
"So you offered it to her?" I said.
"Yes," he answered shyly. "And I spent a little time showing her how the spring-work is made, because she was curious."
"What did I tell you, Bombur? Little increments like that make a friendship," I said.
"But ... it's not like ... I still don't expect anything back," Bombur said. "I will probably never see her again."
"But if you do, you will feel glad, won't you?" I said.
"Well, yes, of course I will," he said. "That's not like what you feel for Fevelien, though."
"No. I have more ... complex feelings for Fevelien," I said, fresh pain flaring in my belly. "She has stayed away so long, I think she must hate me," I said.
"She doesn't hate you," Bombur said. "She is angry with you. I get angry with you, too, but that doesn't mean I hate you." He sighed heavily. "Maybe you were not wrong in befriending the elves."
I whiled away many hours on the balcony over the course of those days, gazing out over the valley toward the waterfall, and down into the bailey to watch elves crossing to and fro. While staring out at the waterfall one day, I heard a familiar melodic voice behind me.
"I had wanted to show you a trail up to that waterfall," she said softly.
I turned to find Fevelien standing in the balcony's doorway. Fili winked as he retreated into his bedchamber and closed the door.
"I would have liked that," I said, wishing that I had put more effort into grooming my beard that morning.
"I wish to speak with you," she said, the hard edge returning to her voice.
"Please do," I said. "I am sorry for lying the other day."
"Estel spoke to me yesterday," she said.
"How is he?" I asked.
"He is recovering," she said, looking cross. "He told me that you lied to protect Fili. I don't understand why you thought he needed protecting."
"I worried over the punishment he would face, and wished to spare him," I said.
"Even though it was deserved?" she said sharply.
"I have a duty to protect him, for reasons I can't reveal, yet," I said.
"We are very protective of Estel, as well," she said, her voice softening slightly. "I would lay down my life for him."
"I understand," I said. "I would lay down my life for my little cousins. And for Fili, as well."
"I imagine you will miss the celebration," she said, the sharp edge creeping back into her voice.
"I can watch the fireworks from the balcony, at least," I said.
"There is that," she said. "Though, you will miss the dancing."
I sighed. "On the bright side, I will also miss Oín stomping on my feet."
Her eyes glimmered for a moment as she said, "Your feet will be safe up here."
"You are welcome to join me, if you wish," I said, smiling. "You, too, can avoid the feet-stomping."
"I will consider it," she said, a too-brief smile flickering across her face.
"You are still angry," I said, my smile fading.
"Mostly at Fili," she responded.
"He feels terrible - as he should," I said. "So do I ... for disrespecting you."
"I should go," she said, far too soon. "I will incur Calearphen's wrath if I am not there to suffer with her through the sewing of raiments. I will try to visit tomorrow."
"That is something for me to look forward to," I said to her back, smiling even as I fought back tears.
Fresh hope fluttered to life in my chest, as if my heart had suddenly begun beating again after laying dormant for the last several days.
The next morning, I walked out onto the balcony just in time to witness Glorfindel's arrival. He rode up on a shining white stallion; golden hair, razor cheekbones, and all. To my surprise, Gandalf walked out to greet him.
Pure joy radiated from the elf's pale grey eyes like early morning sunlight. He stood impossibly tall, with broader shoulders than I had ever seen on an elf. He smiled at something Gandalf said, flashing straight white teeth. His booming laugh sounded musical.
"Mahal," I said to Bombur, as he joined me with a mug of ale. "That tapestry in the Hall of Fire does not do him justice."
Bombur sighed, "One elf is already one too many for you to swoon over," he said.
"I am not swooning," I said. "I am only expressing my admiration for that magnificent creature."
"I agree that he is handsome," Bombur said. "But no more so than one of the statues in the garden."
"Or the sun," I said, watching as Glorfindel and Gandalf walked off together, whispering conspiratorially.
I waited all day for Fevelien to visit, to no avail.
She must be busy, I repeatedly told myself, I will see her tomorrow for the fireworks.
I went to bed early that night, laying out my best clothes before laying myself in bed.
I rose early the next morning to bathe and oil my beard, plaiting it into three meticulous braids with the jasper beads. I baked a blackberry tart, set it on the balcony to cool, then stashed bread, cheese, ale, fresh berries, and wine in my room.
Bombur and Fili split that evening's watch duty between them. Fili attended the reading of the moon-letters, then returned to stay with me while Bombur went out for the dancing, music and fireworks.
"Good thinking, gathering all these snacks together for us," Fili said, popping a blackberry into his mouth and propping his feet up on the balcony railing.
"Actually, I'm expecting Fevelien," I said.
"Ahh," he said, setting his feet down. "Well, I'm not going to stand in your way – not any more than I have already, anyway. I'm truly sorry, Bofur."
He rose, turning to walk back toward his room.
"Fili, wait, why don't you stay here," I said. "There's no sense in me sitting out here alone, waiting for her."
"Are you sure?" he asked, hesitating by the door.
"Please, sit down," I answered, patting the chair he'd vacated.
"All right," he said, sitting back down and scooping up a handful of berries.
She never came. We ate our way through the berries, cheese, bread, and tart; and drank all of the ale and mead as the sky exploded in a riot of colors overhead. Still, she did not show.
"Maybe she lost track of time," Fili said. "An hour probably feels like a minute to an elf. Or maybe she is all that stands between Ninglorwen and Thorin engaging in a duel to the death."
"It's all right. You don't have to try and make me feel better," I said, my new found hope fading once again.
I felt empty inside despite all we'd drunk and eaten. I wanted to eat my weight in cheese and drown myself in ale. Bifur burst into our chambers just as I was about to tap a fresh cask.
"Fevelien wasn't at the celebration," he reported, taking the tap and mallet from my hands. "Neither were Calearphen, Orlereth, or Rhaweth."
"No?" I said, brows furrowing.
"Bombur talked to Thaliel," Bifur continued. "She said they'd gone off to talk with Glorfindel and hadn't returned."
I grunted at this. Perhaps they were trying to set Glorfindel and Orlereth up together. Or was he the one she'd been waiting for? The one delivering word on which route to take for the mysterious destination she couldn't talk about?
I returned to my room to finish packing and do a final polish on her hair clip. I set it carefully in its wooden box, which I'd lined with velvet. I tied a violet ribbon around the box, and went to sleep that night imagining her expression as I presented the box.
I imagined myself telling her I loved her as she opened it. I'd finally admitted as much to myself. In my fantasies, she threw her arms around my neck and leaned down for a passionate kiss. I knew not to.
I woke the next morning to Fili pounding on my door. For one panicky second, I thought I had overslept. Then I saw the first rays of the sunrise streaming down from the window, and heard him beating on the next door, and the next.
A thrill of energy ran through the company as we quickly ate, bathed, and dressed. We assembled in the bailey I had looked down on countless times, the morning sun still low in the sky. Elrond had come to see us off, as well as Erestor, Imladan, Glorfindel, and even the kitchen staff who had been smitten with Bifur ever since his afternoon of chores.
Fevelien was conspicuously absent, however, as were her friends. I felt my breakfast congealing into a hard lump in my belly as the sun crept higher and she failed to appear. Our ponies were led out, with still no sign of her. I rushed to Dovie, burying my face in her mane. She nibbled at me until I unpacked an apple for her.
At last, Gliriel appeared, her eyes red. Braving her father's wrath, I handed Dovie's reins to Bombur and walked up to her.
"Thank you for the reeds," I said. "I had wanted to thank Fevelien, as well, but I don't see her here."
"You are welcome," she said sadly. "Alas, Fevelien has gone. She departed before the sun rose this morning. Orlereth, Rhaweth, and Calearphen, as well."
"She's gone?" I asked, my worst fear confirmed.
"Urgent business to the Southeast," she said, her silvery voice cracking.
I turned to Gandalf, who stared fixedly at the horizon.
"Did you know?" I demanded.
"Her business doesn't concern you," he said, his eyes focused far away. "If you have something for her, you could leave it here, with Gliriel"
"I'll give it to her myself," I said, tucking the hair clip in its wooden box into a pocket deep within my tunic.
"You must be Bofur Raenor," said a dulcet voice. Somehow, Glorfindel had snuck up while I focused on Gandalf.
I wanted to hate him then, but found I could not.
"Fevelien has told me much about you," he said, flashing his teeth. "You will need to stomp on a few spiders first, but you will see her again."
I choked back the bitter words that threatened to erupt from my throat. While glad voices wished us good speed, I wished in secret that our path would lead us to the Woodland Realm.
"If I have to stomp on a thousand spiders, then I will," I said, tears pricking my eyes.
I held them in as we mounted our ponies and marched out of the valley, then I let them flow freely. Even as we marched northward into the Misty Mountains, my thoughts turned to the forest beyond.
Notes:
nadad = brother (Khuzdul)