Different Sense

Different Sense: 44

A stare off commenced between Bard and Gandalf, it seemed like they were incapable right now to speak in normal tones. In fact, Lothiriel had to admit she'd never heard Gandalf so angry before. Placing a hand to her forehead it seemed like the inevitable was to happen.

“Call your people to follow,” she looked up as Gandalf had turned to speak to her. Saying a simple word the nymphs started their walk towards the gates as they followed slowly after them.

The soft click of a lock signalled that they were well and truly locked out of Lake Town forever.

“Gandalf?” Dwalin ventured bravely, he was hesitant about talking to the wizard right now.

“What?” He snapped.

Giving a small flinch Dwalin continued; “What do we do now?”

“We go out and confront our enemies, hopefully Thranduil will be there waiting.”

Upon hearing the Elf King's name, Thorin tensed, Lothiriel linked her arm with his loosely. “How could I forget about that blasted King?”

“Thorin Oakenshield do not speak so rashly! You will lose us another army if you continue on like that.” Gandalf said. “If that happens then we'll perish for sure.”

“Looks like that anyway, doesn't it?” Thorin smirked daringly, Gandalf's rage got the best of him again and once again he became a looming dark shape.

“You and your comments have caused enough trouble! If you so wish to die, then go fight this war on your own! You'll certainly be historic for being the only alone, ill-tempered Dwarf King to fight such a battle.”

Thorin's expression turned to one of hurt, he nodded slowly with recognition. Lothiriel's hand reached down and loosely held onto his hand. “Hm, ill-tempered, yes. Alone? Never; much loved, yes.” Lothiriel spoke quietly with a small smile. Her blue painted eyes slowly raised to look at Gandalf, he gave her a gentle smile of his own before disappearing within his thoughts.

They marched then, surely to their deaths. Bilbo had paled quiet considerably and the rest of the group were eerily silent. As they marched around a bend there standing elegantly as ever, with his arms crossed behind his back, was Thranduil.

His army was never ending and in such vast numbers that everyone's expressions turned to one of disbelief, mainly because they doubt he'd be here. Gandalf greeted Thranduil with a curt nod, he looked at Thorin who walked heavily away from Lothiriel and towards the elf.

Thranduil tilted his head to the side, looking at him curiously, “What do I owe the honour of this?” He gestured a hand to Thorin, who was in stubborn dwarf mode again. Tilting his head to the side he gave him a smile, which was more sarcastic than anything. He looked back to his friends who all shook their head, surely it wouldn't hurt to be a little more respectful?

Thorin extended his hand. “We were starving when we entered your forest. Although you imprisoned us and interrogated us without any real reason, and to no end, I believe there must have been a reason.” Thranduil raised an eyebrow, but he placed his hand tentatively in Thorin's.

“I think I should thank you for the food and water you did provide for us, as well as my forgiveness for leaving us all those years ago; there must have been good reason behind that too. For I too, admittedly, could have done the very same thing. Everything, I forgive you now because you are here today, before me when I expected you not to be, I am sorry. I would prefer us to fight side by side, rather than against each other.”

Thranduil smiled his charming smile and bowed, he tightened the grip on Thorin's hand. “I forgive you as well. I also offer my thanks to you, for being such a humble King. It would be my pleasure, Thorin Oakenshield, to fight by your side.”

They let go of one another's hands then. Thorin turned and reappeared back at Lothiriel's side, she smiled. She was proud of Thorin, it takes a lot for someone to apologise like he just did. Everyone had seemingly relaxed slightly after that.

“Did you see how their numbers?” Gandalf had to break the moment and get it back on topic.

“Yes,” Thranduil's gaze drifted to look at him. “The day is not yet done.”

“It is to be today?”

“If it weren't, I would not be here.” Thranduil nodded gently.

“How many?” Gandalf repeated.

A grave look flitted onto Thranduil's elegant features. “I do not have the heart to say.” That sentence enough made everyone's guard to be raised, and for their hearts to sink. Despite it all, Lothiriel gave a nod linked one arm with Bilbo's and the other with Thorin's. Together, they all stood as tall as they could, they all awaited in silence for their enemy to appear.