. . .

THORIN

. . .

"You've accompanied us long enough now," Elladan noted in a cold tone as they had passed just a few trees.

"I kept my word," Scar answered calmly. "I advice you to do the same. If not, I will not be answerable for the consequences."

Thorin didn't know what to do. He didn't take her threats lightly – who knew what she had done with Fíli the past weeks? Her answers gave him the feeling that she was still holding power over the boy. Thorin had no idea what to expect, but he had no doubt that she had spent the time with his nephew well. He had changed. The moment Thorin had looked him in the eye, he had noted that his innocence was faded. His new pet was just one example. He didn't know if lord Elrond would allow a small warg into the community. Thorin would find it entirely understandable if his hospitality had its limits. Accepting four dwarfs was one thing, but wargs were a whole different breed. Thorin wouldn't be surprised if Fíli would also have a little orc friend hidden somewhere.

A deep sigh coming from Elladan's mouth made Thorin look up again. He was afraid that his friend would reconsider his decision to accompany him. Thorin had looked forward to spend more time with Scar, but now the moment was there he didn't feel comfortable at all and he feared that she would drive a wedge between Elladan and him. It was clear that a lot had happened between those two and he still had a hard time picturing a loving relationship between them. Neither Elladan nor Elrohir had wanted to tell him what had gone wrong, and he didn't expect to hear it from Scar either.

"You can also follow a mile behind us with that monster of yours," Elladan said.

Scar laughed. There was no trace of warmth in her voice. "We both know you'll be looking over your shoulder the whole time, instead of keeping an eye on the road. You're of no use to the dwarf if you're constantly distracted."

The last thing Thorin wanted, was listen to the quarrels of those two creatures the whole time. Usually they were both quiet, but they made every word sound like a riddle now, as if they had some secret code to talk about things he didn't understand.

"Why do you want to join us?" Thorin asked.

He had always found it hard to talk to her, but he didn't want to give her the reins.

"I think you'll need my help," she stated simply.

"Why would you want to help?" He was genuinely surprised, and he felt a little ashamed of his blunt answer.

"Do I need a special reason? Have you ever asked Lord Elrond why he does a lot of good for you and your sister? Maybe I'm not the monster Elladan is seeing in me."

"You're not a monster," the elf muttered, without bothering to look at her. "You're way worse than that."

Thorin's hands felt clammy. He was afraid the two would soon jump off their mounts to fight their battle. There was no way to predict who of them would win, and both outcomes sounded like a loss. Elladan because he was one of his closest friends and Scar because...

Well he didn't exactly know why, but he did know that he didn't want to see her leave.

Not for good and certainly not before he knew more about her than her name – although he doubted that was even her real name – the broken relationship with Elladan and her love for wargs.

~

The search for his father had been on his mind for quite a while. It had been inevitable, something he would have started sooner or later. Now he had really started, he realized what an impossible task it was. He could be anywhere.

That wouldn't have been that bad if Thorin had been alone, but now he had the feeling that his two companions were waiting for a plan and he actually had none. He just hoped to pick up his trail somehow.

Night had fallen and they had lit a fire. They had left behind the territory of the elves, and the past days their journey had taken them along green fields with here and there a tree. In the woods Scar had isolated herself a lot, but this time there were no bushes that could take her from sight. Nevertheless, she sat a little away from them. The warg had laid his massive head on her lap and her fingers were stroking its fur while she was staring into the distance.

By now Thorin was so driven to understand her that he would give an arm to find out what was going on in her head. Which thoughts crossed her mind? How did she feel about this quest? Was she taking him for a fool? Was annoying Elladan the only reason she had wanted to join them? He glanced at the other side of the fire where Elladan was sitting. His eyes were focused on the smoldering wood producing crackling sounds. His face was blank, like an emotionless mask. He knew that Elladan missed his brother, for they hadn't been separated often. It called up memories about his own little brother. When they had been younger, they had loved to go out, exploring the woods close to Erebor. All those woods had been reduced to dust now, and the same went for his brother. Although Death had taken most of his family members away from him, he found it still hard to accept that they were gone. Even when he had seen them die, by sword or by dragon fire, his brain still refused to accept the truth, even after all those years. He kept holding on to the vague conviction that they were on a long trip and were looking for a way to return home.

Home.

Actually there was no home anymore, except for the house in Rivendell. That however never had been a real home; it was something temporary where Dís and his nephews could stay for a while. Thorin hoped the tide would turn some day, so they could live among other dwarfs again.

The last time he had spoken to a dwarf other than his family, was a long time ago; more than a year had passed since they had left the Blue Mountains. He felt ashamed for never trying to find out what had happened to the other dwarfs.

After a short hesitation he stood up and walked to Scar. A little away from the warg, he crouched down.

"You have a little knowledge about what the orcs are doing right now, right?"

"The orcs? That's a broad definition. I neither know what "the dwarves" or "the humans" are doing."

Thorin's mind weighed to heavy to play along. "Do you know what happened to the dwarfs of the Blue Mountains?"

Scar looked at him. He didn't like the look in her eyes.

"They didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?" Thorin asked, having the feeling he was suffocating.

"The Blue Mountains were overrun by orcs a few months ago. The kingdom of dwarfs has fallen – just like its predecessors. Right now, the dwarfs of the Iron Hills are the only ones who have escaped a miserable fate."

. . .

DÍS

. . .

The wind toyed with her brown hair and sang softly in her ears. Its sounds found their way through the blindfold that was tied around her head. The noise was joined by two footsteps, which stopped right behind her.

Dís' fingertips stroked the blades of grass on both sides of her as she waited with a childlike nervousness. Birthdays had always made her feel stressful, and now she was no longer around her kin she didn't know what to expect.

Arwen had brought her a new dress this morning. The gleaming fabric had been crimson, which had looked surprisingly beautiful on her. Although elves didn't celebrate their birthdays, Arwen and her family found it important that she kept her own traditions alive.

"You can turn around."

Dís did as her was told. She wobbled on her feet, afraid to fall into the small creek. The shadows of Arwen's hands were visible through the blindfold as she took it away and laid it down in the grass.

Dís felt a pang in her stomach as she saw what Arwen was holding in her hands. It was a small, silver crown with an inlaid of gems. Her bottom lip quivered and there were so many emotions festering through her body that she couldn't even identify them.

"You might have lost your kingdom," Arwen spoke as she carefully placed the crown on Dís' head. "But you're still a princess and you should be treated like one."

"Oh Arwen," she sobbed.

The elf princess wrapped her arms around her and pulled her close. "You don't value yourself enough, Dís. Never forget that you are a princess."

For a while they maintained their embrace, but eventually Arwen let go of her and pushed her softly towards the waterside. The elf whispered a few words; the surface of the water became smooth, showing her reflection.

The gems had the same color as her dress, and for the first time since long she had the feeling that her parents were looking over her shoulder, smiling with pride.

"The dress and the crown... they are beautiful."

Arwen laid her hands on Dís' shoulders. "There is not only beauty on the outside." She took Dís' hand and pressed it to her chest, above her heart. "Your heart is beautiful too. It really is."

Dís showed her a watery smile. For a while they stared into the water, then they returned to the court where the others were waiting.

~

To dwarfish traditions, it was customary for every invitee to spent a small part of the day with the one whose birthday they were celebrating, and the sight of all the people attending the party warmed her heart. Her boys had made works of art for her, many had given her garlands of flowers with magical traits; some lit up in the dark, others were attracting small, blue birds which she could watch for hours. It was a magical day; one she would never forget.

This morning she had rode out with Elrohir. He had given her a handmade bow with matching arrows, and the knowledge that the elf had known about that old tradition had warmed her heart. There hadn't been a single year that Dís hadn't started her birthday with a hunt and she was glad that she didn't have to skip it among the elves. It gave her the soothing feeling that not everything was lost. She was still connected to her old life; she had just taken a new path.

As soon as they neared the others, her sons wrapped their arms around her legs, as if they weren't too happy to share their mother today. Líndir offered her a chalice, and with a hint of a smile she drank from the sweet mead. It really was a nice fortieth birthday and she hoped nothing would change her mind about that.

"That crown suits you really well, Dís."

Dís turned around, saw Elrohir and blushed. "Thank you."

He offered her a warm smile and stepped to the side. Dís felt nervous as he made room for his father, and all the blood streamed to her face as Lord Elrond kissed her cheek.

Shyly, she looked up to the elf king.

"Enjoying your presence for another year gives the world joy, Dís. I'd like to offer you a gift too."

For some inexplicable reason, Dís' heart raced in her chest. Even with a crown on her head and after taking presents from a prince and a princess, she could barely believe that Lord Elrond wanted to gladden her with a gift too.

"If you'll come with me, please..."

Nervously, Dís picked at the pleats of her new dress as she followed Lord Elrond. She had the feeling that everyone was watching her, and that they all noticed her red cheeks. What reason would they ascribe to them?

In her life there had only been one other man who had caused her red cheeks, and she didn't want to accept that it was happening again. The only reason why she felt so uncomfortable around him, was because he was a king. He decided about her life and he had offered her a home, not knowing there was a vengeful orc who wanted to end her bloodline. Sometimes she had the feeling that Lord Elrond knew more than he told her; at times he gave her an unpleasant feeling as if he could look right into her soul, unraveling secrets she tried to keep from him and his people.

"Did you enjoy the day up to now?" he asked as they left the plaza, going down a road Dís hadn't been on before.

"There are no words to express my gratefulness," Dís answered. "I hadn't expected anything like this." She forced herself to look up, since she didn't want to be rude. There was a hint of a smile around Lord Elrond's lips, making her own lips curl up too.

"It was interesting to organize a dwarf birthday. How old are you today, Dís?"

"Forty," she answered reluctantly, not knowing what age meant to an immortal soul. Among the dwarfs, she had barely been an adult when she was pregnant with Fíli, and she was still a young dwarf.

"A good age."

Dís didn't know what to answer. Despite the fact that he could have said that about every age, it didn't sound trite.

They reached one of the many creeks of Rivendell. Dís was curious where Lord Elrond would take her, but she didn't dare to ask for a hint. If she had been with Arwen of Elrohir she might have asked it, but right now it seemed to undermine the surprise.

The path they were following wasn't used by many. Small flowers were flourishing on the middle of the path, from time to time visited by insects.

Dís looked at the small river at her right. The smooth surface of the water was disrupted by large water lilies with pink and purple flowers. Hundreds of dragonflies floated above them or balanced on the edge of the leaves. It was a beautiful sight, especially now the last sun beams where lighting them up like they were made of gold.

For a moment Dís was lost in the beauty of this place, but she had the feeling her heart stopped beating when her hand accidentally touched Lord Elrond's.

"Sorry," she muttered ashamed, folding her hands. Hearing those hasty words increased her shame and she turned away her face, hoping they were close to their destination.

She deplored the fact that an unwind togetherness with Lord Elrond was impossible. Again and again she was contemplating her actions, and every word that slipped her lips sounded forced. She had no idea why she was paying so much attention to herself, and she neither knew what to do to get rid off that nasty feeling.

She peeked to the side, wondering if the elf lord was regretting this walk. It was hard to imagine that taking a walk with her was something he liked to do, for a conversation with the dragonflies around them was probably more interesting than a conversation with her.

His glance was aimed in the distance, focusing on a spot Dís couldn't see. It felt like his thoughts were miles away, as if he wasn't thinking about her gift at all. He however proved her wrong when the path split and he directed her in the right direction. The grass was higher here, reaching up to her calves. Here and there was a marshy ground. The sound of a waterfall became audible as they moved on, the earth underneath her feet getting more and more unsteady. Dís really had no idea what the point of this was, and when Lord Elrond stood still, she did the same.

"These are the sacred pools of Aulë, a place we seldom visit out of respect for the Valar. I want to offer you His clay, Dís, for I believe that you are blessed with a great creativity; you will be able to create artworks that exceed your wildest imagination. An ancient power is hidden in this clay, and I believe that you will be able to hear Aulë's hymn when your hands are touching His earth."

Dís was speechless. It was a gift that touched her heart, and it felt like Lord Elrond knew her better than anyone. Dresses and weapons were beautiful and she loved them, but it felt like the elf lord had looked deeper inside her, to what was living in her heart.

"You like it?" Lord Elrond asked.

His voice sounded hesitating and Dís doubted that she had shown him the respons he had hoped for. The umpteenth disappointment she had caused someone.

"I don't know what to say," she said honestly. "This gift seems too big to accept."

Before her arrival she would never have said that about clay, but she lived long enough among the elves to know that a gift from the Valar was the highest good someone could achieve. As a patron of these lands Lord Elrond watched over its treasures and it was unbelievable that he wanted to share it with her.

"The clay is created to use. I genuinely believe that your hands are very suited. Both my son and daughter are really impressed by your art. I'd like to see them with my own eyes."

A blush appeared on her cheeks. The first months she had mainly carved wood, but recently she had also started to mold.

"You are always welcome."

The idea that Lord Elrond would visit her house made her heart squeeze and she hoped he didn't intend to do that any time soon.

"You can gather the clay tomorrow," Lord Elrond said. "It's a shame if your new dress gets dirty." He looked up to the sky, which started to turn dark. "I fear we have to return, before dinner is cold."

Together with Lord Elrond Dís left the sacred pools of Aulë. She looked forward to get her hands on the clay. Her thoughts wandered off to the different shapes she wanted to make, and she was so immersed by her ideas that she forgot she wasn't alone.

The snap of a twig underneath the foot of her companion brought her back to reality. She felt ashamed for forgetting about the Elf Lord. Skittishly she looked to the side, and her cheeks turned red when the elf caught her glance and showed her a small smile.

Somehow Dís managed to smile back, but thereafter she didn't dare to look at him again. Her heart was beating like crazy and she felt so hot that she was almost about to cool off in the river.

The restlessness Lord Elrond caused, was worrying her. As inconspicuously as she could, she wiped her clammy hands on the fabric of her dress, looking for words to break the awkward silence. Lord Elrond seemed like a man enjoying the quiet, but it made Dís feel feverish. She however couldn't come up with a topic to talked about, and she started to hum.

"How is Fíli?" Lord Elrond asked after a while, as if her humming told him that the silence was almost killing her. "Does he act different since he is back?"

Dís suppressed a sigh. "He acts like he's an adult. As if he has lost his childhood." She bit the inside of her cheek. "Something that shouldn't have happened within twenty years." Instinctively she rubbed her belly. It was only ten years ago that she was carrying him inside her womb, but the way he was formulating his sentences now and thought about certain matters, called up the presumption that it was a lot longer ago.

"I am officially full-grown today," she muttered. "It feels wrong that my son gives the impression to share the same age."

"Age is just a number, Dís," Lord Elrond assured her. "We are formed by the things we go through, and unfortunately that is a lot in your case. I don't think Fíli is skipping his youth, but he will experience it in a different way than his peers. Moreover, there are only elves with whom he spends his time." He looked at her. "Is the absence of other dwarfs worrying you?"

Dís shrugged her shoulders. She was more worried by the fact that he had been gone for weeks, in which he had learned Black Speech and had befriended a warg.

"That's just how it is. At least I don't have to fear for his life around here."

Unless the pale orc would show himself. A shiver crept down her spine. Was it no time to inform him about the evil they were hiding from?

They reached the end of the path. They would be together for only a few more moments and Dís knew that wasn't enough to tell him about Azog. Besides, she didn't want to allow the creature to overshadow this delightful day.

Dís stood in the middle of the circle. She was wearing the dress and crown Arwen had given her. In the background sounded the play of a harpist.

Her sons were both holding her hand and she had closed her eyes. A hand rested up on her forehead before Lord Elrond's words filled her ears.

"'Aa' lasser en lle coia orn n' omenta gurtha
Aa' i'sul nora lanne'lle
Aa' menle nauva calen ar' ta hwesta e' ale'quenle
Aa' menealle nauva calen ar' malta'"

She didn't understand Sindarin that well that she knew what he was saying, but he translated the words to the common tongue a moment later.

"May the leaves of your life tree never turn brown
May the wind fill your sails
May thy paths be green and the breeze on thy back
May your ways be green and golden."

Dís had never been blessed and the palm of his hand on her forehead felt strange. Would it help? Would his words bring prosperity? Had his words the power to make her ways green and even golden, instead of dull and dark?

Dís hoped so with all of her heart, but deep down she doubted it. The elves were powerful, but they might upset the Valar by giving a dwarf a blessing that was meant for elves. Maybe they would become wrathful now, so that more distress was on its way...

. . .

THORIN

. . .

Thorin hid a yawn behind his hand. The past days they had traveled long distances while disturbing thoughts had kept him from sleeping. Since Scar had told him what had happened to his people in the Blue Mountains, he kept thinking about the men he had left behind, together with their wives and children.

They had fought side by side, and it was hard for him to accept that they hadn't succeeded in defending their stronghold. All he could do, was hope that some had escaped from the sword and would find a new place to live, like he had.

Thorin however believed that he had made the right choice. If he had stayed with the others, his sister and her sons might have been dead by now. Knowing that they were safe now, eased his mind.

Still, the thought about Dís weighed heavily on his heart. Today was her fortieth birthday. An important event and he hated the fact that he wasn't with her, especially because he had no idea how she was doing. Had she enjoyed the day? Was she a little more her old self now Fíli had returned?

The not knowing made the search for his father more difficult, since his motivation sometimes vanished. Did it even make sense to look for his father? Shouldn't he have stayed with his sister, the only family member that was still alive?

"Where's your head at?"

Thorin was pulled out of his thoughts and looked to the side, to Elladan who was riding next to him. "Why?"

Elladan nodded forward. Thorin followed his gaze, discerning some plumes of smoke on the horizon.

"We're nearing Pallan, a small community of humans."

"Good."

Elladan's observing eyes didn't leave Thorin's face, and he shrugged.

"It's Dís' birthday today. I feel bad for not being around."

"You could have waited."

Thorin swallowed a sigh. Most elves knew pretty well how to smooth things over, but Elladan was an exception. He was always straight as an arrow.

The thought that he had abandoned his sister, plagued him more and more. Back then he hadn't known what to do with her behavior, making him feel frustrated. Now he felt selfish. The elf community had caused a tightness in his chest and he had wished to ride through the forests and across the fields again. Right now, his missing father felt like a lame excuse. Something he didn't want to admit to his companions, for they had joined him to support him.

Well, at least Elladan. Why Scar was still around, was a mystery.

"I just hope she found back her old self."

Elladan glanced at him, but said nothing. For a moment Thorin wished that Elrohir had been at his side, who would have told him that everything was gonna be okay with Dís.

Elladan however never said anything he wasn't fully convinced of and since his mother's departure had been caused by grief, he knew that not all sadness was molded into some new form of happiness.

"I wouldn't worry about your sister now if I were you."

Thorin looked over his shoulder. He hadn't even noticed that Scar had came so close. Her eyes were aimed at the mountainside to their right and it didn't take long before he realized that her comment wasn't meant to assure him.

"We're being watched."

Thorin scoured the mountainside, but his eyes weren't as good as those of the two elves. The time he had spent in Imladris, hadn't changed that.

"What do you see?" he asked Scar.

He noticed that his pony was nervous too. She was scraping with her hooves across the ground, moving her head more skittishly than before.

"Wargs."

Thorin's stomach cringed. He had hoped that their confrontation with the orcs and their mounts would lie further in the future.

"They've probably smelled your warg." It wasn't his goal to blame her; it was just his process of reasoning he had spoken out loud.

Scar however seemed to interpret his words differently; her eyes became terrifying cold. "They're rather attracted to your dwarf blood," she grunted. "They'll chose that over the blood of their kin."

Thorin shivered. Being torn apart by a warg was one of the most dishonorable deaths he could think of. Frightened, he glanced upwards. The setting sun made the shadows creep down, toying with his imagination. Against his better judgement he hoped the same went for Scar. "How many?" He had no idea what to do. Scurrying out like little mice seemed the wisest thing to do, but he didn't want to be a coward.

"Too many," she answered. "I'll talk to them."

Thorin's mouth dropped open. "Are you insane? They will kill you!"

"Stop being a fool," she snapped. "Move on."

He exchanged a look with Elladan, who shrugged his shoulders. Thorin wondered what the cause of his indifference was; did he believe that Scar would be fine or didn't he care if she would lose her life?

Elladan kicked the horse and Thorin did the same. He couldn't believe he was allowing a woman to face a pack of orcs on her own, even when it was Scar. But rationally he could convince himself that she was in good relations with orcs. Or not? Doubts arose; it was hard to believe that anyone could be friends with orcs. Or with Scar.

After a few meters Thorin looked over his shoulder, but she was already halfway the hill.

"With a little luck we can shake her off now," Elladan said.

His words startled Thorin. "What do you mean?"

The elf rolled his eyes. "You can't trust her. Take my word for it; she didn't come with us to find your father."

"Then why did she join us?"

Elladan shrugged his shoulders. "If I had known that, I was probably dead by now."

Thorin remained silent. He didn't know if Elladan was overreacting, but this felt unfair to Scar. Right now she was talking to the orcs who were chasing after them. He wouldn't even have noticed them if it wasn't for her, so it felt ungrateful to have these dark thoughts about her.

Still, Elladan's words didn't leave his mind. For why did she want to come with them?