The Wind Fell Silent

17. A Question Was Asked

So he knew about the quest.

"So you have imprisoned him and his kin?" I asked, trying to keep an air of neutrality.

Thranduil's eyes scanned my face for a moment, he caught something, a fleeting hint of emotion. He had something to claw at now.

"I am told that one among them became positively rabid when you were taken to be tended to. A young one, nephew to Thorin I believe." He watched with satisfaction as his words began to unravel the calm and collected armor that I hid behind. Kili, he had found my pressure point.

He continued. "It brings me no pleasure to hold the dwarves, but they have given me no choice. None will be reasonable and negotiate with me."

"I still don't understand why I have been brought here. I hold no sway over Thorin, I have no claim to the treasure."

"I call you here to ask you to help your friends, both your elvish friends and your dwarvish. I will gladly let the company go, with provisions and gifts of good will, if you but agree to help me."

"If I agree to betray the company you mean." I cut in, his expression seemed to sour if for only a moment.

"No. Thorin is too much a slave to the past, and the old quarrels that lie therein. I am asking you to do what Thorin will not, what is right for the company. All I need you to do is take the jewels once you are in the mountain and deliver them to me." His words seemed wise, but I could not accept them as wisdom. I knew that if I did as he asked, none of the company would ever forgive me, and I wouldn't forgive myself either.

"No" I said flatly. "I cannot help you, for it would be a treachery to my friends. I have given Thorin Oakenshield my word, and my loyalty."

Thranduil's face dropped angrily, but he didn't seem to be surprised.

"That is a pity" he said scathingly, "It seems that I have no choice but to put you with your companions." I had expected as much.

"Guards!"

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Kili's Point of View

I threw my rune stone up in the air and caught it again in my hand. My mother had given it to me before I left. I had carried it with me since we had set off for Bag End, though I hadn't told anyone of it, they probably would have teased me relentlessly. I thought of my mother then in the dungeons of the elves. She was a grounded kind of darrowdam. Sensible and stern, resembling my uncle strongly, I wondered what she would say if she saw the company now. Probably chide us for being so foolish. This entire predicament was miserable. Everyone was grieving for little Bilbo Baggins, who had surely died in the darkness of Mirkwood, and lamented the fact that we were most likely never going to see the light of day again, much less reach the mountain. The thought of failure both enraged and deflated me. This was as much my dream as it was my uncle's. I remember that when Fili and I were children, he would gather the two of us around him and tell us tales of a gleaming dwarf city and endless treasure. It was a dream the three of us shared, and in that moment it seemed just that, a dream. But though I was deeply troubled about the loss of the hobbit and the company's seemingly indefinite capture, my thoughts were firmly planted with Renn, who none of us had seen or heard about. Some of the company, in fact concluded that she must have passed from what they had begun calling "forest fever". But I couldn't bring myself to believe that she had died. She couldn't have. Arenna could not have possibly met her end in such a way: weakly slipping off into the void in a healer's nursing chambers. She was meant for more. I fought away the worry and doubt that gripped me by telling myself that the elves could heal her. That the elf who had known her, the prince we had discovered, would not let her die. He seemed to care for her, it was a comforting thought , though it made my chest burn with anger. How could Arenna love such an insufferable cad as he? The sight of him gently carrying her to the healer's chamber had sent me into a rage our first night in the dungeons, so much so that I had bruised and cracked my knuckles mindlessly attacking the wall. The skin on the back of my hand was still cracked and bleeding. But what I assumed was a fortnight or so had passed, and no sign or news of Renn had reached us. Surely once she awoke and found that we were imprisoned, she would demand we be set free. I couldn't bring myself to believe that she would betray us for the elves, it went against everything I knew about her. However, as the time wore on, a shadow of doubt passed over my heart, fed be jealousy. What if her and the elfling prince were lovers? What if the moment she woke, she ran into his ready arms? If she loved him, could I blame her? These thoughts only fed my consuming anger and possessiveness. After the night we had kissed, I had began to think that she and I had formed an attachment, that my feelings were returned. Indeed, I had been sure of it. I was utterly and completely taken with her. She was nothing like the women I had had fleeting relations with in the past; Renn was not the type to swoon when the young prince winked at her, or be taken with glittering jewels and fine dresses. She was funny in playfully cutting sort of way, and was not afraid to put me in my place. She was a brave fighter and a kind friend. She was indeed a mystery.  I belatedly realized that her and her enigmatic eyes had stolen my heart. My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of boots patting about outside the cells. A guard patrolling, as they always did. Where did they think we could go anyway? I continued to toss my stone up into the air.