Dwarvish/Khuzdul: shirumund = beardless (profane)

Dwarvish/Khuzdul: Ifridi bekar! = Ready weapons!

Dwarvish/Khuzdul: makk an e ha'ak = son of a she-dog

Elvish/Sindarin: mellon nin = my friend

Elvish/Sindarin: Lindir, grith nathaliengir, ti thelno saeb auattindo = Lindir, see to our guests, they will no doubt be hungry

The Wolf of Ered Luin is something of a legend among the khazad. Fierce, intelligent, enormous, and unnaturally-long-lived. No one knows how she came to exist or how she ended up in the home of the royal family. Some speculate that she's part warg, others suggest she was made and sent by Mahal himself to safeguard the line of Durin in their exile. All they know for sure is that the young princes could not ask for a better protector (not that they have much need of one, of course, being accomplished fighters themselves), or a more loyal companion. Those close to the royal family know that it goes deeper than that, and the giant beast is much more than a pet. Her role is something like that of a sister. Her closeness to the princes is as sure as their closeness to each other.

To say the dwarves of the Company don't know what to think would be an understatement. When Las - Emery, that's her name - fell from the troll's fist, betrayal was the first thing they felt after the shock subsided. Then Dwalin (of all people!) vouched for her, and they decided to quell their suspicions. It still hurt, though. Then she abandoned all sense in the field and leapt toward the danger rather than from it, to save Kili's life. Affirming as little else could that Dwalin was right, and that her loyalty to the sons of Durin was as genuine as they always believed. Then she didn't come down the hole.

"I am sure your friend is perfectly fine," says Gandalf. "Wolf or dwarrowdam, she is no fool. She will follow when it is safe to." Some of the Company seem ready to argue, but Dwalin nods and turns his attention to the pathway in the back of the cave.

"Brother?" Balin questions. Dwalin shrugs.

"I trained her myself," he explains, "she knows what she's doing. The wizard's right, she will follow when she can," and he disappears into the pathway. Several of the dwarves exchange looks, before one by one following him further into the cave. Kili starts to object, but Thorin silences him.

"As Dwalin is currently the only one among us who truly knows the girl, we will defer to his judgement in her regard. Move on," he orders. It hurts more than Kili thought it could to hear those words. Only a day ago, none had understood the wolf as well as he himself did. Fili came close, but there were subtle tics and tells that his older brother simply didn't pick up on. It's how he knew something was bothering her when they made camp last night (did she smell the trolls?). When Lassie transformed into the dam called Emery, he felt betrayed. Everyone did. But if he really thinks about it (as he's doing now while he follows the company down the pathway), she never did actually lie to them. She might not have had the ability to speak as a wolf, but that doesn't mean they weren't able to communicate. They've had conversations, albeit nonverbal on her side, and not once in any of them does he recall her telling him a lie. A voice in his head (that sounds rather like his uncle) reminds him that lying by omission is still lying, but another voice argues. Emery said she was given a task, one she couldn't fulfill if anyone knew she was anything but a wolf. She wouldn't say what task or who gave it to her, but she was honest. Rather than telling them a lie to pacify them, she answered as many of their questions as she was able, and admitted when she couldn't tell them all of the truth. Not knowing what her mission is gives Kili a wariness he isn't used to and doesn't like, but she's been protecting him and his since the beginning. Even when she was still so small she could curl up in his lap, she was keeping watch. Whatever her mission is can't be bad if the result has had her playing sentinel the entire time he's known her, can it?

Imladris is beautiful, only a blind man would deny it. Still, that doesn't stop the dwarves from criticizing it. How else could they be expected to react to anything Elvish? Down in the darkness of Dwarven mines, it's common sense to not rely on one's visibility to navigate. Fire is a useful illuminator, but it does go out. The geometric patterns carved into the walls aren't merely aesthetically pleasing, they serve a practical function. Dwarves generally have good sense of direction, but the relief carvings in the walls serve as guides and maps that are easy to read, and easy to feel with one's hands at times when it's too dark for visibility. The geometry chiseled into the walls of their mines and underground cities, something that represents safety and reassurance, heavily influences the Dwarves' art and architecture. All that curvy woven irrational nonsense the Elves prefer is just...uncomfortable to look at, however pretty it may be.

"Mithrandir!" One of the lanky beings makes his way down a flight of stairs towards the Company, who are currently gathered on a large patio. The wizard turns at the call of his name in Sindarin.

"Ah! Lindir," Gandalf says happily. The elf bows his head respectfully and extends his hand in greeting. Thorin eyes him distrustfully and whispers an order to Dwalin to stay sharp. Lindir says something in his lofty tongue, leaving the dwarves frustratingly confused.

"I must speak with Lord Elrond," says the wizard seriously. Lindir's expression becomes more serious, as well (if it was ever unserious to begin with).

"My Lord Elrond is not here," he replies.

"Not here? Where is he?" Lindir is saved from answering by the blast of a horn. The dwarves turn towards the sound, and see a troop of mounted elves cantering up the way they themselves came only minutes ago. Mounted, armed, and armored elves, and they aren't slowing down.

"Ifridi bekar! Close ranks!" Thorin shouts. The dwarves quickly form a defensive circle, pulling Bilbo to the center, as the horses and their riders stampede into a moving circle around them. To put it mildly, Thorin was reluctant to set foot in Rivendell in the first place. If that makk an e ha'ak of a wizard has led them to their capture or demise...but almost as soon as it began, the commotion is over.

"Gandalf!" a dark-haired elf calls, and dismounts.

"Lord Elrond, mellon nin," Gandalf greets fondly, but the Elven lord is rather distracted. He shouts something in Sindarin, and one of the other elves slides off his horse, carrying a figure in his arms that is definitely not Elvish. Dwalin is the first to recognize the skin-changer, masked as she is by the blood smearing her face. His breath leaves him as he gapes in horror at the mauled and unconscious - or possibly dead - form of his student. He's reminded of the troll encounter all those years ago where Dolin was killed, and the fear, shock, and pain that engulfed him when he saw his son's lifeless body. It only takes a moment for him to snap himself out of that memory, but a moment is all it takes for the elf to speed past him. The next person to recognize her manages to speak up before he can find his voice.

"Wait...Emery?!" Bilbo's voice rings out.

"What in the devil happened?" Oin speaks up.

"Oy! That's our friend you've got there!" shouts Fili.

"WHERE IN THE BLAZES ARE YOU TAKING HER?!" Dwalin bellows as the elf darts up the stairs, effectively getting Elrond's attention.

"To the Halls of Healing, master dwarf," he says. "Your companion is in dire need of medical attention, and I am afraid there is no time for pleasantries. Lindir, grith nathaliengir, ti thelno saeb auattindo." He addresses Lindir in Elvish, then hurries after the pair.