Chapter 42: Stolen

In which their is a jail break.

Thorin twisted his wrists, testing the strength of the rope for what seemed the hundredth time. At this point it was almost a subconscious effort. This elvish rope was strange and most definitely imbued with their magic. The moment he had been tied in place he had felt the strength fade from his arms. How else could a simple cord be so strong, and how else could his wrists remain unmarred after so much struggle. Not only this, but the ropes length seemed to vary, adjusting to his needs, like how there had been enough slack to allow room between he and Fili last night so Sara could sleep between them, but today Fili was tied so closely behind him that his nephew was in constant danger of treading on his heels. The knots were impossible to pick or untie and according to Bofur to chew through. Even Nori who had escaped the goblin's shackles had no luck with this rope that was no bigger around than a small blueberry.

It rankled to be prisoners to these elves. He disliked being subject to another's will or being marched like a gang of thieves through the forest. Thorin heard Sara and Bilbo laugh and looked up to see them conversing with the elf prince and captain of the guard. Try as she might to fit in Middle-Earth, Sara still stuck out like a rough nail in a finished wall. She drew the evermore curious attention of the two elves, especially the blond prince. He watched her smile as she listened to elf talk and frowned. She ought to be by his side, walking and talking with he and Fili. Despite all the attention they gave to her and Bilbo, neither of the elves seem to truly believe their captives stories. Thorin supposed that was natural. The company's lies the day before had been rather weak ones, and would have been hard for even him to swallow if he had been on the receiving end, but it was better than the truth. He would keep the truth from the elves at all costs, both about his quest and Sara origins. Nothing good seemed to come from other knowing about Sara.

"At least she can laugh," said Fili, behind him. Thorin felt a pang of jealousy twitch through him as Sara and the blond elf continue to converse conviviality. He strained his ears to hear their conversation. "I'm glad they take care of her and didn't tie her and Bilbo with us," said Fili, breaking through his concentration as they trudged along.

"They only kept us apart to ensure our cooperation," said Thorin in dwarvish. The elf named Ruven who held the Rope gave it a half-hearted jerk, but Thorin ignored him. At first the elves had tried to keep them from talking in their native tongue, but they soon realized that short of gagging the company or cutting their tongues out it would be impossible to keep the company silent. It seemed the elves threats had been mostly empty ones, and so the dwarvish conversations had persisted.

"I have no real reason not to cooperate," replied Fili, slipping into dwarvish as well. "They treat her kindly and we knew we were going to be taken captive."

"Are you telling me you have no desire to be free of this rope? No sense of pride?"

"Not at all," said Fili. "I detest being tied up, but I want to make peace with the elves like Sara suggests even more, so unless there is a real need I will remain here. It's not as though I couldn't get loose if I wanted."

"Are you telling me you still have a knife hidden away?"

"I do, but only for emergencies. It's not really suitable for fighting but could cut a rope well enough."

As much as Thorin wanted to be quit of his bonds he could see Fili's wisdom in not using the blade. Even if he were to get his hands free there was no real escape from these elves, for they had to stay on the path or risk being forever lost in this forest. With the orcs behind and the elves ahead, they were hemmed in. The elves were clearly the lesser of two evils, but it was some comfort to know that in dire situations they had a means to at least escape their bonds. A laugh drew his attention back to Sara. Sara and her fool notions of peace between elves and dwarves. Why make peace with the elves if they would be at the mountain to help defeat the orc and Goblin armies anyway. The book so declared, despite the ill parting of the company from the elf king. They still won the battle, and he would be more cautious and aware now that he knew of his possible peril. Why debase himself if it was not necessary. But despite disagreeing with her, he enjoyed the fire with which she spoke of her plan.

He had grown worried for Sara and Bilbo when the food had been depleted. Little did he wish to see her weak or ill when his natural inclination was to protect and care for her. He just hadn't expected the desire to care and protect to be reciprocated and such a forceful way. In a sense he supposed that was part of her charm, her streak of fire. Sara was hardly ever intimidated, and certainly not by him. On the contrary she had proved herself quite vivacious when it came to those she cared for, and she would fight tooth and nail to see her will done. Dwarvish women were far from demure and could charge into battle if the dire need ever arose, but none had ever shown such cander with him as had Sara. Where most only saw his position as king, Sara was unafraid to talk to him like any other being, and he liked the openness for a change... most of the time at any rate. So it galled him to see Sara talk so easily and freely with their elf captors. He noted how she and the hobbit were careful to avoid sensitive subjects, diverting the elves questions with questions of their own. Thorin could tell that the elf prince was aware of her tactics but had given up trying to pry information from her and now let her talk freely. The more she talked the more the elf's interest was peaked and the more attention he paid her.

Out of habit Thorin ganced to the sky he could not see, but despite not knowing the sun's position he knew they were nearing the end of the day's march. The webs strung thought out the trees were a source of worry, especially without the familiar weight of Ocrist at his side and his hands bound. The elf prince's blatant disbelief in the spider attacks was unnerving. Thorin knew elf magic to be powerful and long-lasting, but for the prince to completely dismiss their claims merely based on his faith in the magic seemed folly. He could tell he was not the only one in the party concerned with the increasing webs for when he looked back, many of the others' eyes darted here and there, ever searching and alert. Their elf captors however, marched on with utter confidence, wholy relying on the path's magic; that is, all save the female captain of the guard. Thorin watched the group ahead of him and as Sara and Bilbo's unease grew, the she-elf watched them and waxed more cautious, her eyes scanning the forest around them for any approaching threat.

A little under an hour later they halted for the day at yet another of the elf made camps. The company was once again ordered to sit along the edge of the square stone. After several minutes Fili elbowed him surreptitiously. Thorin looked over at him and Fili quietly nodded his head towards Dwalin. The warrior did not look well, his face ashen as he held his shoulder painfully. Oin's gaze on him was clearly concerned.

"What's wrong with you?" asked Ruven, nudging Dwalin's foot as he peered down at him. "Can't handle a walk through the woods?" Dwalin glared up at the elf but didn't speak.

"He was injured and it has been slow to heal," said Balin.

"I thought dwarves were supposed to be a hardy race, quick to recover," said Ruven, raising an eyebrow.

"Normally we are lad," said Bofur from down the line. "But the spider's venom seems to work against the healing."

"Might you untie our healer so he can tend to my brother?" asked Balin, addressing the elf named Lierin. The elf observed him for a moment before going to Legolas. He and the elf prince returned shortly.

"Untie them both," said the prince.

"You want me to untie this one?" asked Ruven incredulously, nodding at Dwalin. "He's likely to start trouble."

"He hardly looks up to the task," said Legolas. Thorin had to agree, he had rarely seen Dwalin looking so poor. "If he is ill he will only slow us down. Loose him, or was Sara correct and you are shamed by his victory over you." Thorin ground his teeth… of course Sara had invited the elf to call her by name. She hated formaily to much to let him go on calling her Ms. Miller. Muttering under his breath Ruven bent and easily untied the knots around Dwalin and Oin's hands. By now Sara, Bilbo, and the she-elf captain had converged on them and stood by watching as Oin gingerly peeled back Dwlain's short caller to expose the two puncture wounds on his shoulder. The she, Tauriel as he had heard her named, leaned forward a look of interest and disgust wrinkling her features. The wounds were weeping puss again and the gray pallor in Dwalin's skin had returned and spread.

"I told you not to use this arm," said Oin reaching for his pack.

"What kind of wound is that?" asked the elf Airidan from beside Ruven.

"We told ya, it's a spider bite," said Bofur. "A giant one."

"It's what you deserve for leaving the path," said Ruven. Out of the corner of his eye Thorin saw Sara glare at the elf in question.

"As much as you deserved the beating you took," she said hotly, folding her arms. "We told you already, the spiders attacked us on the path." Her voice full of contempt as she spun to face Legolas. "And don't tell me it's impossible. I'm beginning to hate when people say that because it always ends up being completely possible."

"The spiders have never before spun their webs so close to the path," offered Tauriel gesturing at the trees around them. "By rights, they should not be able to come even this close. If nothing else the spiders are growing bolder, perhaps we ought to take precautions." Dwalin grunted in pain as Oin squeezed the pus from his shoulder and cleaned the wound. Myrin approached the old healer.

"If that really is a spider bite this should help," said the elf holding out a small black jar.

"Is it an antidote?" asked Fili.

"Not exactly, but it should work to ward off some of the symptoms temporarily," replied Myrin.

"Then there is no cure?" said Kili.

"There is one, but we don't carry it with us. It spoils too quickly," said Airidan. Sara looked at the elves shrewdly.

"If the spiders never come on the path, then why do you carry this medicine?" asked Sara, staring at the elf prince.

"The spiders have never before entered the path," said Tauriel. "But that doesn't mean we never leave the path."

"That's one of our tasks," said Airidan. "To keep the spiders in check, lest they deplete the forest of all living creatures. We have found several nests but unfortunately we have yet to find where they spawn from."

"I bet you anything it's in Dol Guldur," said Sara. "At least that's what Radagast thought." Legolas turned to look at her sharply.

"First you claim to travel with Mithrandir, and now you claim to know The Brown Wizard as well? Your tale grows wilder and wilder. Few have ever seen him. He prefers to keep to himself in the south of this forest."

"We only met him in passing," said Sara. "He came to talk to Gandalf just before we got to Rivendell."

"A likely story," said the elf prince, but Thorin didn't hear what else they said as they broke into an argument, for his attention was busy watching the tremors in the thick silk threads above their heads. Something was causing those vibrations and there was no breeze at the moment. He turned to Fili.

"Do you have that blade handy?" he whispered in dwarvish. Fili raised an eyebrow and Thorin nodded at the spider webs. Fili's face paled.

"What would you have me do?" asked Fili.

"Cut the rope. I think that if perhaps we can cut the rope it will lose its magical properties and become a mere rope. If I'm right we can relieve our weapons from the elves," said Thorin. Sara and the elf prince were busy arguing and had attracted the attention of the other elves. Good they would be distracted. Kili, Balin, and Nori had heard his secret conversation with Fili and were sitting straighter, each one trying to surreptitiously snap the cords that bound them. With their hands tied they would be easy prey for the giant arachnids.

"And if you are wrong?" asked Fili.

"Then you better hope that you're as sneaky as Nori," he replied. Dori and Bifur were listening now as well, but the elves were busy watching the escalating argument between Sara and Legolas, and for once Thorin was not on the receiving end of her sharp tongue. He needed to get his hands on a weapon and quickly; the tremors were growing bigger and he thought he could hear them now, almost a dozen spiders approaching through the canopy if his ears were to be trusted.

"Do it now," he whispered to Fili. The she elf was watching them and though she could not understand she was wary. Thorin glanced upward and the elf followed his eyes and uncertainty marred her pointed face. Her eyes flicked to Fili and she saw the small blade he drew from the heel of his boot but instead of lunging to stop him, she reached behind her back and drew an arrow, notching it.

"Legolas, I think..." she began, scanning the forest for movement. Throin could tell the moment the rope was cut for he felt the strength rush back into his arms and with a sharp twist he easily broke free. Almost instantly he, Fili, Kili, Balin, Bifur, Bofur, and Nori wear on their feet rushing elves, reaching for the packs that held their weapons. Pandemonium broke out and the elves' attention was suddenly back on the dwarves, all save Tauriel, who stood with her bow at the ready braced for the attack from the forest. Moments later all the company except Oin and Dwalin we're on their feet, but Thorin had eyes for the elf prince only. He would retrieve Orcrist. Legolas saw him coming and grabbed Sara, spinning her around and holding her back to his chest, a blade pressed to her throat.

"Sara," cried Fili and Thorin froze in place, furry burning through him like molten gold.

"Sara," squeaked Bilbo, rushing forward only to jerk to a halt as Legolas drew her closer. Sara's eyes were wide and panicked.

"Let her go," raged Thorin, stepping closer, his fingernails cutting into his palms.

"Tell your men to stand down," ordered Legolas cooly.

"The spider's are almost here," said Fili, lowering his twin swords. "We won't face them empty-handed. They will attack us here on the path and no amount of magic will stop them."

"Legolas I think they are right," said Tauriel, her bow still drawn. Most of the comoution had died down and a majority of the company had acquired a weapon, and held the four remaining elves at bay.

"This is ridiculous, There is no…" But the elf prince never finished his sentence. Furry snapped to life in Sara and she reached up and grabbed the arm across her chest. In a quick practiced movement she backed into him and flipped him on his back in front of her. Dodging out of his reach as he leapt to his feet, she ran past and came to stand between Fili and Bilbo. A cold fire burned in the prince's eyes as he slowly and deliberately drew orcrist. Thorin's empty fingers itched to hold that hilt and he watched, waiting for the elf to move, ready to dodge and strike a blow.

"Legolas, now is not the time," called Tauriel, but her companion was not listening. The webs above positively danced now and the branches shook as the heavy bodies approached, the tips of their spindly legs poking into view.

"Unkle here," called Fili, tossing him one of his blades. Thorin caught it with all the ease his years of sword handling afforded him, but his attention was divided between Legolas and the spider creeping up behind the elf prince.

"You won't escape me," said the elf prince. The spider crept closer now. It was no more than the uppity prince deserved. Let the creature drag him off into its lair and suck him dry. It would save Thorin the trouble of running himself, and Sara could not blame him for the elfs death.

"Legolas, behind you," cried Tauriel raising her bow but in the same moment the elf let loose a shaft, Sara rushed past her, jostling her aim. The arrow flew over the spider and just as the spider lunged forward for the elf prince, Sara reached him in time to push the surprised elf out of the way. The monstrous creature, robbed of its initial target, settled for scooping up the girl and turning to flee, its writhing prize screaming as it disappeared into the gloom.

"Sara!" shouted Fili but his cry was lost in the shouts of the company and the elves as spiders appeared on all sided. Thorin's mind raced and his blood ran chill, as he lunged after the spider, dodging around the she elf. Sara had been taken by the spider and she had no weapon to defend herself! Curse that wretched elf, why had she jumped to save him. He could hear Sara's screams like a knife in his chest. He had failed her again.

"Uncle wait," shouted Fili, making to follow him, but when Thorin glanced back it was to see a spider drop from above and block his nephew's path. He was, however, surprised to see the elf prince following with clear determination. Thorin cursed under his breath and turned forward, pouring all his strength into his legs and lungs as he sprinted after Sara, dodging ferns along the way. He was gaining now, but so was the elf. There was movement off to the left and the right, closing in, and Thorin was forced to halt, two spiders blocking his path. As he ducked under the reaching appendage of one and swung at its soft underbelly, he felt the elf's feet on his back and shoulders as he vaulted over, still chasing after Sara. Thorin roared in frustration, swinging wildly at the other spider, which soon joined its companion, twitching on the ground. Not bothering to finish them off, he sprinted after Sara and the elf. The trees became darker, more gnarled, and strung with more and more webs. Finally they burst into dark clearing and caught up to the spider, but Sara was nowhere to be seen. The spider was focused on the enormous dead tree in the middle of the clearing, its legs probing a narrow crack in it's dark trunk.

"Sara!" thunderd Thorin, his heart leaping from into his throat. Where was she? Had the spider dropped? Eaten her? Strung her high in a tree? Legolas swung and decapitated a spider that reaced towards them, Orcrist dripping with gore as he made his way toward the tree. "Sara!" called Thorin again, desperation tinging his voice as he searched for her. There were more spiders closing in around them.

"Thorin!" came her plea. "Thorin! I'm here. In the tree!" Roaring, he charged forward and closing the distance between he and the spider, plunged Fili's sword up to the hilt into the spider's bloated body. A sharp twist and a yank and the creature collapsed, dead.

"Sara!" called Thorin after shoving the body aside. The tree had a hollow core. He peered into the crack in the tree and could see her grime smeared face looking back at him, panicked. Her eyes were squirted in pain and he could smell the blood seeping from where she held her left bicep. "What happened?"

"It bit me," she said, her voice weak. She looked like she would be sick. "Thorin, the spider bit me!"

"Oakenshild!" shouted the elf. Thorin glanced over his shoulder and felt his body grow chill. No less than six spiders were converging on the tree. "This is a nest!" Thorin turned back to Sara.

"Stay there," he said firmly. "Stay in there till I come for you." She nodded weakly, her eyes round and wide. He spun and raised his borrowed blade to the ready as the elf retreated closer to the tree. Thorin gritted his teeth and swung at the nearest of the creatures, cutting its legs from under it before cleaving its head in two. Thank Mahal Fili kept his blades sharp. Two more spiders rushed him and in his periphery he could see Legos fighting three of the monsters. Despite being outnumbered, the elf held his own with a collected calm, that is until one of the spiders managed to entangle the elf feet in webbing while he was distracted elsewhere. The elf toppled as a spider rushed him, but Thorin was busy with his own pair of the arachnids. The creature to his left screeched as it charged forward, its mandibles clicking. He turned and drove the blade into its gaping mouth but felt the seconds spiders legs begin to wrap around him from behind. Yanking the sword up and free he swung around in the arch and cut through the legs seeking to entrap him. Jumping free of the creature, he spared a glance for the elf. The prince was on his feet again but staggering as he wiped at his face smearing gore across it. Thorin could see not wond on the elf and though the elf's tunic was smeared with blood, none of it was his turned back to the wobbly spider before him and finished it with a quick blow. He was about to retrieve Sara and run for it when he stopped, watching. There was definitely something wrong with the elf. His movements were labored and slow as if heavily drunk. Only one spider remained, but this one was smarter than the others and stayed outside the prince's staggerting reach, waiting for it's chance. Its patience was rewarded, and as the elf stumbled and fell sideways into the low shrubbery, the spider shrieked and lunged for its prey. As the spider reached for the elf, Thorin reluctantly moved to intervene, but the elf was not quite so helpless. The tip of Orcrist erupted from the spider's body just below the head and sliced upwards and the creature collapsed. Reaching the pair, Thorin rolled the spider aside to assess the elf. He reamiled uninjured but lay unconscious, the ferns fanning out around his head. A scream brought him out of his observations and he spun to see a final spider had crawled down out of the branches of the dead tree and was probing the crack, trying to get at Sara. Rushing forward he sliced into the creature's head and shoved it aside to join its companion. Looking around, both on the ground and then the trees, and seeing nothing Thorin moved to the crack.

"Sara are you well?" he called, looking inside. How had she gotten inside? The crack was only some six inches wide.

"Are they gone?" she queried.

"Yes," he said reaching his hand inside. "Come out. It is safe enough now. How in Middle Earth did you get in there to begin with?"

"There is a whole at the bottom of the tree," she said crouching down. "When the spider let go to wrap me up I fell and crawled inside." Her head appeared near the ground and she wriggled out on her belly, winching as her arm scraped the tree. Reaching down he dragged her into his arms and she melted into his embrace, her own arms coming around his chest and holding him tight as relief washed through him. "Thank you," she whispered into his shoulder.

"I thought we agreed, no more unnecessary risks," he said, drawing back to hold her face in his hands before he kissed her brow lightly and then moved to her mouth.

"I didn't take any unnecessary risks," she said once they broke apart. She grimaced as she let her embrace drop, her hand returning to her injured arm. He reached for her arm and gently raised it.

"You pushed that elf aside and were taken in his place," he said trying to keep the frustration from his tone as he ripped off her sleeve to better see her arm. "That was not only beyond unnecessary but borders on extreme foolishness. You were not even armed!" There was going to be a large bruise on her bicep, but the real damage was to the soft flesh of her underarm. Due to the small size of her arm, the creature's fangs had tore through the skin but not really penetrated deep into the muscle of her arm. Normally a wound such as this would not worry him as much, but there was the spider's venom to consider. How much of it had entered her body? "I told you," he said, taking her shoulders. "Look to yourself first. Don't put yourself in danger!"

"It was necessary," she said

"That is a matter of opinion," he said using the ripped cloth of her sleeve to clumsily bind the wound. "Come we must get you back to Oin and the others." He scooped her up into his arms and she laid her head on his shoulder.

"What about Legolas? I thought I saw him. Where is he?" she asked. Thorin ground his teeth and jerked his head to where the elf prince lay in the ferns. "He lays there. Let him fend for himself. He is uninjured, only sleeps."

"You can't just leave him here," she said, suddenly trying to wriggle out of his grip. He held her tighter.

"We can and we will," he grumbled. "It is no more than he deserves."

"No we can't," she said, her voice growing stronger. "We have to take him back with us. He's likely to be eaten by more spiders. Night is coming."

"All the more reason to leave quickly," he said, holding her firmly to his chest as she continued to struggle. Why did she always fight against him in this position?

"I can't let him die," she said, pushing against his chest. " He's too important." Suspicion and jealousy twined together in his heart. Important? True, he was the son of the elf king, but Sara's words seemed to carry more import than that.

"Important how?" he asked, his arms going slack as he set her on her feet and stepped away. Had the elves limited attention turned her head so quickly while he had only just managed to secure her affection? Elves were admitaldy the race that would naturally be more attractive to a human. They were softer spoken and more graceful, and it would certainly not be the first time an elf had shown interest in a human.

"I can't tell you," she said, going to the elfs side, avoiding the ferns and placing two fingers on his neck. Her posture relaxed and she carefully yanked up one of the ferns, holding it away from her face.

"Important to you?" asked Thorin. "More so than me?" Sara froze and then stood to face him, dropping the fern, plainly confused.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, watching him carefully.

"Do you fancy the elf?"

"What on Earth gave you that impression," she said, clearly exasperated with him.

"You spent the entire day conversing and laughing with him."

"Legolas, Tauriel, and Bilbo," she said. "And it's not like they would let us leave their side."

"Be that as it may, his interest in you has only grown in that short time, and yours in him. You look at him as though he were some great hero instead of our captor." She did not respond. "Then you push him out of the way to save him, risking yourself in the process. You confuse me. Why risk yourself for someone we met yesterday? Why are you so fascinated with him?" She looked taken aback at his words and it was quiet for a few agonizing moments. Her eyes wandered to the elf at her feet.

"I suppose he does fascinate me," she admitted after a long time. "But not in the way you suspect. It's just... he's a living legend, or rather he will be someday."

"Will be? You know his future?"

"At least what his future should be," she said. "He nor his father can be allowed to die. Legolas has to be alive in the future, but he can't be tied down being king of the elves. That's why I pushed him out of the way." She paused. "Kind of stupid now that I think about it. He was armed and probably would have been just fine."

"More than likely," agreed Thorin, folding his arms over his chest. "He has managed to live all these years. Elves live a very long time, and he is not young, despite his looks."

"I know," she sighed. "Your right. Sorry. I should have thought it through." She seemed to wilt a little.

"There was little time in the moment," he relented. It was in her nature to protect others, even if she was ill equipped to do so. "You do not care for him?" She straightened.

"No. Not like that," she said, coming to grasp his hand. "Not the way I care for you. But we still have to take him back with us. He's important to the future, besides he won't be able to find the path again without him." He sighed. He had not thought of that.

"Well we can't very well stay here. Lost or not, the spiders will return here soon, and I doubt I will be able to fend them off while protecting you both sufficiently."

"You won't have to," she said, reaching for the dropped fern. "We will wake him up." She broke off three pieces of the plant's stock and placed one under her tongue before handing him another, but stopped short of the elfs mouth. He watched her shoulders droop before she turned him once again.

"Why do you hesitate? You insist we bring him. Wake him and have done," he said, placing the bit of plant under his own tongue. The taste was bitter and the underside of his tongue grew numb. She stood and faced him.

"Not yet," she said simply. "I have been wanting to talk to you, and I mean to have my say while no one else is here." That didn't sound pleasant.

"Is it necessary?" he asked. "We really should leave this place."

"Then carry him while we walk and talk."

"I had meant to carry you," he said, gesturing to her injury.

"It's my arm, not a leg. I can walk," she said firmly. "It's important that I talk to you even if you don't like what I have to say." That did not bode well. "Please," she asked. Sighing he strode to her and stooped to hoist the elf like a sack over his shoulder.

"Very well, it seems you are determined. I have no choice but to listen, so tell me what weighs so heavily on you that you think I will not like." She grabbed Orcrist from the ground and held it out to him. Having nowhere to carry the blade he reluctantly slid into the hilt on the elf's hip before accepting Fili's blade as well. His shoulder throbbed. Only now with the elf on his old injury and the danger somewhat abated did he realize the considerable pain he was in. At least it would clear his mind, but he shifted the elf to the other shoulder none-the-less. It freed his left arm to support Sara should she need it.

"The reason I don't want Legolas awake yet is because what I have to say concerns him and his father."

"You mean to tell me more of their future?" he asked, incredulous.

"No," she said, staying close to his side as he led her out the direction they had come. Or what he hoped was the direction they had come.

"I want to talk to you about making peace with the elves." It was his turn to stiffen.

"We have already discussed this and I have made my answer quite plain."

"You made your opinion abundantly clear," she said, glancing at him. "But we hardly discussed it. A discussion happens between people and includes opinions and arguments from all parties, and I have yet to voice mine."

"Then voice them, but don't expect to sway me." She sighed wearily.

"Why did you bring me with you?" she asked, sounding tired. He looked at her confused. "Why did you bring me on this journey? Why am I here?"

"Gandalf insisted we bring you in the beginning, but we have grown to want and need you," he said unsure what she was getting at.

"Why did gandalf insist?" she asked.

"Because you bear the mark of the Valar."

"Right," she said. "And what is my title in the company and why." He guessed now where she was leading him but he answered anyway.

"Forign consultant, because of your foreknowledge," he admitted, shifting the elf higher on his shoulder as they strolled forward.

"Now tell me, why are you here?" she asked. "Why are you even on this quest?"

"To reclaim Erebor," he said without thinking. Why was she asking this, she knew.

"But why? Why do you want Erebor?" she asked. "Is it the gold? The honor and prestige of winning it back? So you have a proper kingdom to rule over? Because your father left you the key and a sense of duty?" Did she really not understand him after all this time? Did he have to spell it out for her?

"All those reasons and more," he said. "I am a dwarf and like my kind love gold, and duty and honor also play a part in it, but they all fall short to this; I want my people to have a home again. It is their home. Stolen from them, but theirs all the same. I will see them restored to it."

"And just how far and how much are you willing to give up to see that happen?" she asked, watching him carefully. He stopped for a moment, looking up into the canopy before answering.

"Anything. I would give anything to see this happen."

"Even, and including your life," she asked quietly. He looked down at her and lifted her chin so her green eyes met his.

"Yes. Even, and including my life. If that frightens you then perhaps we should hold off on any relation between us until this is over." He had meant to offer her comfort and let her know he did not hold her bound to her word should she wish to sever ties with him, but apparently that had been the wrong thing to say. She yanked her chin from his hand, and her eyes sparked dangerously as she glared up at him.

"Don't make this about me," she said. "I didn't say I wanted out."

"Then why are you angry?" he asked, bewildered.

"I'm not angry," she said, her eyes flashing. "I'm frustrated!" There seemed little difference to him. Her features were still pinched and her cheeks flushed. Try as he might, and despite all his years of practice with Dis, women we're still strange creatures to him. Especially in their anger.

"Then tell me what frustrates you so," he said after a moment.

"You!" she shot iratabley. "You frustrate me. You and your contradictory logic. It makes no sense. Either that, or you're lying."

"I spoke no lie," he defended. "We agreed no more lies."

"But you did lie," she shouted. "You said you would give anything to reclaim Erebor for your people."

"What else could I possibly give? I would die to see it happen."

"Dying is the easy way out," she countered loudly. "What your people need is for you to live, but beyond that, they need a peaceful future, and that is something you could do for them but refuse to. Yes you would give up your time, your health, your sanity, and your life, but there is one thing you hold far above those things in value." To his relief her voice was quieting.

"Nothing is more important than my kin and my people," he said, his grip tightening on the elf. "Nothing."

"That's not true," she shot. "There is one thing."

"Name it if you can," he challenged. How could she accuse him of this. He held nothing back from her or this cause. Nothing!

"Your pride," she said, her words almost too quiet for him to hear. "You would hold your pride above your people." He opened his mouth to argue, but she cut him off. "No! Let me finish. Listen." That's all he had been doing, listening, but he remained silent, waiting for her to speak. His pride? How could she?

"You would let your pride rule your heart more than common sense," she began. "We are going to war. You know it and I know it, and Dwalin's warning only proves it. The orcs and goblins will attack the mountain in November. This battle may cost you, Fili, and Kili your lives and while we will be better prepared for it with the help of the men, there is still more to do. It is not simply enough for dwarves and men to fight as allies; we need the elves. I know in the book the hordes are driven back and the mountain saved, but this is not just about protecting Erebor and keeping you alive. We need more than that. We need there to be a strong alliance between the three races if we are to survive and thrive in the next century. What good will it do your people to take back the mountain if they are at odds with their neighbors. They won't live through the next war unless we are united. I don't think you realize just how close we will be to losing everything. Sauron almost wins." She fell silent.

Her words reverberated in his mind as he began to walk again, keeping her close to his side. Her words stung and left a bitter taste in his mouth, or was that the plant. He spat it out. Was she right? Was he placing his pride above his people's needs? Was it his pride, or the pride of his people? Did it matter? Both Gandalf and Balin had called him out for his shortcoming in the past. As long as his father and Grandfather had lived they had praised and nurtured it, especially in their latter, less stable, years. Was it pride they had instilled in him, or was it really a prejudice for the elves? When he was a very young dwarf he could remember sitting at his mother's knee and she would tell them stories of old heroes and great deeds done, some by dwarves, but not all. She had not been afraid to praise and elf or man when it was warranted. After her death he had asked to be told the stories, but his father and grandfather never told the stories the same, often vilinising the other races, especially the elves. He knew that some of their stories were true, but so were the ones his mother had told. The story he, Frerin, and Dis heard most often was how the elves had betrayed them and how they had been driven from the mountain. He wondered if his mother were alive, would she tell it differently? He knew that in their later years, both Thror and Thrain had been driven into insanity, but that same dull glint was always present when they spoke of the day his mother had died. It was impossible to know the truth, for he could not remember that day clearly through the grief and fear. But the truth of the past matters little to the here and now. Was it in his people's best interest to try and make peace with the elf king? What would the future bring? If only he could know as Sara did. Deep down he knew she was right. He was prone to excessive pride and stubbornness.

"What would you have me do?" he asked, not sure if he were asking Sara, his mother, or father and grandfather. She pulled the plant from her mouth and looked at him, her eyes full of uncertainty.

"Try to get along with the elves," she said. He had a sinking feeling that that would also be his mother's answer. "I know your peoples have history, but give them a chance to prove you wrong."

"Or right," he said. She ignored that.

"To give them and you any kind of future, we need to try. It gives us all the best chance of getting through this alive." She stopped and faced him, drawing closer, her eyes pleading. "I don't want to lose you, and I'm trying my best to save you, but just like with Kili, I can only do so much. Will you make it harder for me, all for pride?" Would the elves even be willing to discuss such a proposal?

"I don't know if such a thing is even possible," he admitted.

"I know it's not just down to you," she said reaching for his empty hand, twining her fingers with his. "But you are half of it. I just ask that you try. Fight for it like your life depends on it, for a very well may." He held her hand and looked down into her face, studying her intently until her cheeks flushed and averted her gaze. She made to continue walking, but he held her fingers fast, letting the elf slip to the ground and drew her closer.

"You believe it possible?" he asked. She looked up at him, hope flairing to life in her face.

"I hope it can be," she said, wincing as she lifted her arm to pull at Fili's bead. How he wished to see a different bead in her hair, taking its place. "I can't think of another way for this to work out."

An alliance renewed with the elves. Could his father and grandfather ever forgive him? Would his people? But could he forgive himself if something were to happen to Fili or Kili? To Sara? All because he refused to attempt it. He knew she was right, though he hated to admit it. What this girl was doing to him, but perhaps it was for the best, and even if not... He took her face in his hands, her eyes looking between his waiting for him to speak.

"Then to the best of my ability, I will see it done." Relief washed over her face, and for a moment he feared she would shed tears. Before he could react she had reached behind his neck and drew him down into a heated kiss. Fire erupted in his chest and he quickly shifted his grip to her waste pulling her soft body to his. Her lips were insistent on his, her tongue slipping between them. She never ceased to surprise him. She could be so forward at times, but at this moment with her hips pressed maddeningly close to his, he could think of nothing that attracted him to her with more strength, unless it was her fingers twisting into his beard. A growl rumbled in his throat and he went on the offensive and hoisted her higher on his body so he had to tilt his head up to hers. He was pleased to hear groan as he shifted her closser, pressing her soft body to his, her heavy labored breath in his ear.

"Finally," she said, her eyes closing as she pressed her forehead to his.

"Finally," he said, drawing back, feigning indignation. Her eyes popped open, staring hazily into his. She kissed him lightly on the mouth lingering for just a moment.

"I mean thank you," she said, kissing him again. "Thank you for agreeing to try." He leaned closer, thrilling at her moan as he trailed kisses up her neck and to her ear.

"For you, my little fire tongue," he whispered, slipping into dwarvish. He could feel her nose wrinkle against his neck.

"That's not fair," she complained, pulling away. "You can't speak in Dwarvish. I don't understand it and you know it."

"You were the one who said all's fair in love and war," he said. She smacked his shoulder and they both groaned as pain shot through his shoulder and her arm. Slowly he lowered her to the ground, but stole one last hot kiss before letting her go.

"We need to get back," she said looking around then

"Indeed. Oin needs to look at your arm. You don't look so well." She reached into her pocket and withdrew the third piece of fern stock, holding it out to him. He took it from her.

"I don't feel so good," she admitted. Worry crept into his chest, cooling his lingering desire for her.

"I will wake the elf," he said.

"Legolas," she corrected, sitting down with her head between her knees, trying to regulate her breath. "His name is Legolas. Making allies works better if you use people's names." He grimaced.

"Very well," he relented. "I will wake Legolas." He pried open the elfs mouth and pushed the plant under his tongue. The elf better come to quickly. Night was upon them.