In Time

Chapter Twenty-Six

Dinner with the Mirkwood elves was so very much like being in Rivendell that Amara couldn't ignore the pang of homesickness that twinged her insides. Although the dwarves certainly seemed to have accepted her into their fold, she was constantly aware of how she was not one of them and never would be. She would always remain reserved and quiet while they laughed and shouted at one another, would always remain coolly aloof while they fell into one another laughing. They might not have intentionally made her feel like an outsider, but she felt like one just the same.

She sat with them at a table in the corner, picking at her dinner, her appetite non-existent. Is this how it would be when they reached Erebor? Would she always feel as if she didn't belong? She watched as Bofur forked a sausage from his plate, then looked at it, plucked it from the tines and called, "Bombur?"

Bombur looked up and, without a word (she couldn't recall ever hearing him speak) opened his mouth. Bofur fired the sausage at him, which he caught easily. The others burst out laughing, while she managed a mild smile as she pushed a lettuce leaf to one side of her plate. A few minutes later, the other dwarves had moved away from the table, toward the terrace off the dining hall, where shouts of raucous laughter rang across the room.

"You don't look happy."

She looked up at Aiduin standing behind her. "I'm lost in thought."

He pointed to Thorin's chair, which was empty. "May I?"

She nodded. "I don't know where he disappeared to."

"He was over speaking with Legolas and the young, dark-haired dwarf earlier."

"Kili?"

Aiduin shrugged. "I know not their names, only that he is very young, dark haired, and several elf maids were fascinated by him and Thorin."

Her back stiffened at that. "Really?"

He nodded. "They're still over there." He nodded in the direction of the front corner of the dining hall.

She looked up, her gut kinking as her gaze landed on the three tall, slim blonde elf maidens who did appear to be very fascinated by whatever it was Thorin said. The one closest to him threw back her head to let out a silvery peal of laughter and when her hand came to rest on his upper arm, Amara's first instinct was to march over to her and knock that hand clean off that arm.

Suddenly, Thorin's ridiculousness earlier didn't seem quite so ridiculous.

Then again, he also made no move to take the elf's hand from his arm, either.

"Mariona seems quite taken with your dwarf."

She glared at Aiduin. "I am hardly concerned."

"I am not at all certain that is a wise position to take. She can be quite... persuasive... when she wishes to be."

"I trust Thorin."

"Then I suppose you have nothing to fear." Aiduin sank into Thorin's chair. "So, how did his meet with Thranduíl go?"

"I don't know." She resisted the urge to peer back toward the front of the room. "I didn't get the chance to ask. But, Kili doesn't look at all unhappy, so I assume it went well."

"It's difficult to say with Thranduíl. He isn't fond of dwarves, even less fond of the Erebor ones. I believe it has something to do with a necklace?"

"And his refusal to help Thorin in his time of need?" She shot Aiduin a pointed look.

He shook his head. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."