. . .
THORIN
. . .
Lost in thoughts, Thorin's fingers glided across his bandaged leg. Today and yesterday they had combed Moria, looking for a sign of his father. There had been skeletons everywhere, some still spreading the stench of death. Dwarfs and orcs, mixed up as if they belonged to one people.
Memories had plagued him all day long. He could still hear the dead cries of the men. He could still see the head of his grandfather rolling through the dust, reliving the fight with Azog that followed. He remembered the panic that had taken control of him when he found his little brother on the battlefield, covered in blood and barely breathing.
It had been too much for him. He hadn't been able to bear the presence of the two elves any longer, and he had rushed away, slipped and fell down a hill, his leg cut open by some sharp rock.
For a moment there had been that hope that Scar would bandage it, just so he could feel her soft fingers on his skin, but it had been Elladan who had nurtured him.
Thorin knew nothing about Scar he hadn't known before their journey started. Sometimes she was gone for days; then all he heard were Elladan's complaints, who still didn't trust her. He believed it was Scar who made sure they weren't attacked by orcs and wargs and he was convinced that it could only lead to something bad.
Thorin however saw no harm in it; he was just relieved they hadn't been overrun yet.
"Where do you want to look now?"
Thorin looked up, feeling caught. She might not be able to hear his thoughts, but it was a strange feeling when someone you thought about was showing up all of a sudden.
"Among the dwarf kingdoms that are still left," he muttered. "Although I do not know which those are."
He studied her face, wondering if she knew more than she wanted him to believe. Azog wanted to wipe out his family. If she was really so close with his followers, she had to know that. Maybe she even knew where his father was. But why would she keep that information to herself?
Thorin felt guilty about the accusing and suspicious thoughts. Was it Elladan's hatred that was dragging him a long? A hatred that stemmed from a broken heart and was thereby anything but objective?
"Why do you accompany us, Scar?" he asked, sighing.
Elladan had wanted to explore the surroundings a bit more, so he assumed the elf wasn't near.
"You still haven't moved past that?"
"No," Thorin answered honestly. "You seem to be friends with the orcs and I know there's quite a price on my head."
He hadn't dare to admit that before, but by now he knew Scar wouldn't be surprised by the revelation.
"Don't you think I've had more than enough possibilities to turn you over to them?"
Thorin shrugged his shoulders. She was right.
"Then why did you join us?"
"Why did Elladan join you?" she countered. "You also question his intentions?"
"Elladan is my friend."
Scar laughed briefly; it sounded anything but joyful. "He was my friend too, but the moment I needed him the most he turned his back on me."
Thorin looked aside, surprised. Never before she'd told him anything about her past.
"I know how it feels to lose your family," she said eventually, staring into the distance. "And I also know how it feels when you're completely on your own." She returned her face towards him.
Thorin couldn't help himself; his attention was drawn to the large scar across her eye. He still wondered how she got it.
"Maybe it's not me who you should distrust. I never abandoned anyone, while everyone turned his back on me."
After these words she walked away, leaving Thorin alone with his confusing thoughts. Why had she opened up to him? Had he misjudged her all this time? Had he been led by the judgement of others? And what had Elladan done? Or rather; what had he not done?
. . .
ELLADAN
. . .
Scar twisted a goblet in her hand, lost in thoughts while staring at the filthy table top. Thorin was sitting next to her, his elbows leaning on the table. Too many times his friend's eyes wandered off to her and he restrained a sigh. He understood why Thorin felt attracted to her, even when she wasn't as beautiful as she had been in the past, exposing herself more to the darkness than whatever creature should do. She was just as confident as in the beginning, although her confidence might be all that was left of the elf he'd once loved.
Elladan tried to distract himself by listening in to a conversation from a few tables ahead, but the men were speaking about corncobs and cauliflowers, so it wasn't really helpful.
Long days had gone by. Most of the time Scar had been gone, looking for orcs who might be able to inform them about Thorin's father. Therefore, they set course for Carn Dûm, beyond the lands of Angmar and Arnor. She claimed that was the place where Thror was last seen, but Elladan knew she was lying. Her plan however was still a mystery to him. If she had wanted to harm them, she could have done so a long time ago.
He took another sip of wine. Thoughts like this kept him busy all day long. He wished he could simply ask her, like he would have done in the past, but there was no one in Middle Earth he distrusted more than car. She was insane. Something he couldn't blame her for, but what made her a dangerous companion – even though he refused to call her his companion.
She was an elf who had forced herself on them. If one could even still identify her as an elf. She might still have her pointy ears and shiny hair, but that was the only indicator they belonged to the same race. He knew Scar would agree with his words. She also believed she was only a shadow, a rough version of who she used to be before...
Elladan's thoughts came to a halt when she suddenly got up. Her stool clattered on the floor and her eyes were aimed at the entrance of the pub, where an elf was standing. He was wearing a shiny armor, his hand resting upon his pommel. Messy, blonde hair hung in front of his face, between which two blue eyes were suspiciously taking in the environment.
Scar's eyes shot through the room. She was looking for a way out.
Elladan was shocked. Scar had always been calm, and unable to scare off.
Her lips formed dark words, and the man in the doorway started to laugh.
"Your dog is dead, in case you were looking for him," the man spoke in Black Speech.
A shiver crept down Elladan's spine. He abhorred that language, but father had wanted him to understand the tongue of the enemy.
"As will happen to you as well, within a moment."
Drawing his sword, he swung it around. The place had grown silent. Scar paid no attention to the stranger, but walked to the other side of the room.
"There is no escape, Moira. I have waited for this moment for years, and you know me. I only strike when I'm sure there will be no failure."
The sound of her real name woke up something inside him. Drawing his sword, he stepped away from the table so he was standing between the two.
"Stay out of this," Scar hissed. "You can't win this."
He looked over his shoulder. "Can you?"
She kept her mouth shut, although the distraught look in her eyes at the man's arrival had already told him the truth.
"You're not alone." He glanced at Thorin, who also raised his sword and kept an eye on the man. Briefly, he looked into the eyes that used to drive him insane with longing. "Not this time."
. . .
THORIN
. . .
Thorin didn't understand what was going on. Suddenly, the three of them were facing an elf who'd stepped through the doorway, speaking a language which sent a chill down his spine. Why did this elf speak Black Speech? Wasn't that something that orcs should do?
"Are you really that foolish you want to give your lives for her?" the elf taunted. He stepped forward, his hands clenched around his sword. "She will betray you."
Thorin wondered if betrayal had led to his revenge. Had Scar betrayed him?
Taking his sword in his hands, Thorin walked closer to her. A few moments ago the thought that she needed protection would have been absurd, but she looked really insecure now and Thorin didn't understand why. After all, the elf was alone.
"I recommend all of you to leave the room," the elf spoke. "There is no resentment towards you."
To his bewilderment, Thorin noticed that a part of him wanted to leave the tavern as quickly as possible, as if a darkness tried to control his brain. The men around them stood up and left the building. Even the landlord left his property, as if the same dark magic had invaded his mind, leaving him defenseless.
A bit lost Thorin looked at Elladan, whose fortitude surprised him. Actually, he'd expected his friend to jump at the first chance to get rid of Scar, but he guessed his feelings for her went deeper than anyone could have suspected.
"What makes that you're still around, dwarf? What did she promise you in return for your help?"
"Help?" Thorin asked confused. She was helping him, it wasn't the other way around...
"Leave him out of this," Scar said before he could add any other word.
"I gave him the chance to leave, but he refused. Now, he will die with you."
His careless, fearless words made Thorin furious. The elf spoke about him like he was some ignorant child, instead of a prince, a warrior! And that's what he was going to show this elf!
"Don't!"
Scar's cry did reach his ears, but it wasn't enough to temper his anger. Raising his sword, he lunged at the elf. All the man did, was holding up his shield. Thorin slammed into it, lost his balance and fell on the ground. Wood splinters drilling into his hands as he tried to catch himself.
The man laughed, but he didn't move. He didn't attack; he shoved his sword back in its sheath. Confused and dazed, Thorin was lying there on the floor. Getting up felt like an impossible task; it was as if the man had thrown a heavy, invisible blanket upon him. The wooden floor underneath his hands felt warm, it even seemed to gurgle.
Thorin looked up in disbelief. A smug smirk crossed the elf's face. His gaze was aimed at Elladan, who refused to step away from Scar.
"I fight with weapons you can't defend yourselves against."
Thorin pulled his hands away from the floor when the wood started to smoke. With open mouth, he watched how the floor was showing wide cracks. A flaming substance that looked like lava burst out, covering the floor with a fiery carpet. The earth seemed to erupt and in panic, Thorin crawled back. Suddenly, the fear was so fierce he couldn't think straight anymore; his limbs were shaking.
"Do not worry, dwarf. You'll be turned to ashes within the blink of an eye."
Thorin couldn't keep up with the events. One moment, lava was was coming out of the cracks in the floor, then another substance reminding him of ice crept across the floor. Dazed, he watched the burning liquid clot, leaving behind nothing but harmless dents in the wood.
The angry voice of the elf told him he had neither counted on this. The door was opened. Elves stepped inside. They were wearing grey cloaks, holding bows in their hands.
This time it was the elf who had threatened them who looked around in panic, looking for a way out.
Another elf entered the building. Her white dress was shining and her serene face didn't show a single emotion. His eyes shot to Scar, but the appearance of the elf seemed to freeze her. Elladan stared at the woman as well, his eyes wide.
"Lady Galadriel." Humbly, he bowed his head.
Thorin was sure he'd heard the name before, but he couldn't remember where. He didn't give himself a lot of time to think about it; instead he aimed his attention at their enemy. His hands glided across the wooden wall until it started to smoke and smolder. Holding his breath Thorin watched the man, wondering what had been in that pint. He knew magic existed, but a battle between ice and fire went beyond his imagination.
"Leave, Caracal," the Lady spoke.
At that moment, the man fell through the smoldering hole and bolted.
Perplexed, Thorin looked around. He felt uncomfortable surrounded by all these mysterious elves. Scar didn't look all too happy with her rescue; saying thanks to her saviors was too much.
"We have to go," she said coldly.
Reluctantly, Elladan stood still. His eyes fluttered from Scar to Lady Galadriel to the hole in the wall.
"What in the world is going on?" Elladan's indignation was aimed at Scar. "Don't tell me you know each other. That you are the reason why half of Lorien's army is in this tavern now."
Thorin couldn't see what was so horrible about it. Why was Elladan so upset about this? Why couldn't he just be grateful to Lady Galadriel?
"I didn't ask for this." With an angry face she stepped through the hole, as if she rather followed her enemy than expressed her gratitude to her saviors.
"I'm sorry she never told you about us, Elladan," Lady Galadriel spoke softly. "Once there was a time in which Moira was like a sister to me. I know the dark paths she traveled along and I never take my eyes off her."
Elladan took a deep breath, not saying another word. The glance of the elf woman wandered to Thorin.
"Thank you," he murmured. Somebody had to thank her, right?"
"Good luck with your search, Thorin, son of Thraín. I can't see the dark places Scar is taking you to, but my heart tells me she will indeed lead you to your father."
A somber silence followed, as if she wanted to warn him that the state in which he would find his father might be much worse than expected.
The elves turned around and left the bar. Thorin had no idea where they'd come from or where they went. A little defeated he looked at his friend. "Who is she?"
Elladan stared at the door, giving him an answer that made his eyes grow wide. "My grandmother."
"Your grandmother," Thorin repeated, as if speaking the words again would result in more understanding.
Elladan nodded absentmindedly, his gaze aimed at the hole through which both Scar and her enemy had gone through. "My mother's mother."
After these words he walked to the by magic affected wall and stepped through it. Thorin followed him in a hurry, afraid that he would magically disappear if he would use the door.
"Who is she?" Since she had been able to cover the floor with ice without saying a word, being unaffected by the fire, she had to be a very special woman.
"She rules Lòrien, an elf kingdom not that far from Imladris. Just like my father she's one of Middle Earth's protectors."
Elladan didn't look at him while he talked to Thorin; his thoughts were obviously with Scar.
"Are you surprised that Scar knew her?" It was a question he already knew the answer of, for he had seen his friend's face when that knowledge was shared with him, but he seized every opportunity to know more about Scar.
"It worries me that she never said anything about it," Elladan muttered. "If you're together for such a long time that you're about to marry, you don't expected someone to keep her friendship with your grandmother to herself."
He couldn't wrap his head around the idea that she was even double the age of his friend, who was already so much older than he was. She must have gone through a lot.
"I bet she had a good reason to keep it from you," Thorin tried to comfort his friend, but an disdainful snort was all he got in return.
Thorin hesitated. Should he ask the question that had been on his lips since the moment he discovered that the two used to be lovers? He decided to take his chances. "Why didn't you marry?"
It asked for quite some effort to keep up with Elladan, since his friend was much taller. He had no idea where his friend was going to and he felt disappointed when he ignored his question.
"She was abducted," he said eventually — so late Thorin didn't expect an answer anymore. "She was gone for over five hundred years."
Thorin stayed silent after these words. This wasn't the moment to pry further, no matter how curious he was. Five hundred years... Had she been locked up all that time? Had she gotten her scar in that place? Had she met this Caracal there? Question after question raced through his mind, and clawed it into his brain. He wanted more answers. It seemed to control his thoughts and he was convinced that he was hallucinating when he saw her on the side of a forest trail. At first he just wanted to walk past this figment of his imagination, until she stuck out her foot so he tripped over it. He fell on the in leaves covered the ground. I felt like his fall pulled the questions out of his brain so he could think clear again. Feeling ashamed, he stood up.
"Where the hell were your thoughts?" Scar asked, frowning. "You looked right into my eyes and you still didn't see me."
Thorin decided not to tell her that he thought that she had been a fantasy. Awkwardly he stood across from her, not knowing what to say. He wanted to tell her he found it horrible that she had been abducted for a period that was double his age, but he didn't know how to formulate these words without sounding like a complete lunatic.
In the end, he said nothing and just hoped Elladan would take the floor.