You Must Have Faith

Chapter Thirty

Gimli had noticed several minutes earlier that Legolas had stopped paying attention to him, but figured that he had finally bored the elf with his chattering. 

"Laddie, am I that boring?  Focus up now, I was about to describe--"

"Shh."

Legolas was cautiously reaching for his bow, staring up into the trees above.  Gimli followed his line of sight, only catching a flash of gold before a massive shape dropped down onto the trail in front of them.  A mountain lioness, easily larger than their shared horse, standing tall before them.  Legolas and Gimli both froze, Gimli in terror and Legolas in recognition.

"My lady?"  Legolas asked, fairly certain that it was the same skin-changer that his father had taken in before his departure.  His guess proved correct when the lioness bowed her head in respect, then leaped up into the branches above them and disappeared from sight.  Legolas let out the breath that he had been holding.

"Don't worry my friend, she won't be harming us.  In fact, I do believe that she'll be a better bodyguard than I am for you."

Gimli, in shock, whispered, "What in Mahal's name was that?"

"That, my friend, is a long story, though I should be able to finish it before we reach my father's halls."

***

Vera listened carefully as the prince regaled Gimli with a mostly correct account of her arrival to the Woodland Realm, and a vague account of the history of skin-changers, using Beorn as an example.  By this point, they were close enough to the palace that Vera felt she could leave them in peace, noting as she left that Legolas seemed to sense her go, turning to look after her as she bounded away through the branches.  

So that is what a dwarf smells like.  The sight and smell of the dwarf fascinated her, since he was the first of his kind that she had ever seen.  I suppose I should go back.  Duty and the palace beckoned, but the sight of her mountain formed an urge within her that she knew could not, and should not, be ignored.  With a firm shove against the beckoning of duty, she redirected her course towards her ancestral home.

***

"What do you mean, Thranduil?"

"Don't play coy, Elrond.  You may be wise, but I have figured you out, to a degree at least.  I know when you're lying."

The half-elven sighed, resigning himself to the fact that his carefully kept secret was no longer a secret.

"Her and her sister arrived on my doorstep after their parents were killed.  They had been heading for Rivendell as a family when the orcs attacked them on their path and left the girls as orphans.  They were adolescents at the time, awkward and still growing into their long limbs and other forms.  I took them in, became a father figure, and raised them with my other three.  The group of them together were quite the troublemakers.  I knew who they were, I knew they were princesses, so I trained them and raised them like I was with my own children, preparing them for the day that they would be forced to lead.  Kira was somehow always absent in the fights that I had forseen; I had no knowledge of her fate, so I focused her studies on politics and the way of the world, whereas with Vera I had her training relentlessly in battle and combat, strategy and the leading of troops.

"Of course I had them all in the same classes, but it was obvious which twin had gotten which genetics.  I knew their parents, many years before the girls' birth, and it was clear to me that Vera was much like her mother, whereas Kira was like her father.   I taught them accordingly."

Thranduil had been listening intently up until this point, not seeming to realize that a small smile had crept across his face, although Elrond had. 

"So did Vera recognize me from paintings in her lesson books, then?"

Elrond couldn't help but smirk at that.

"Don't be cocky, mellon.  No, she was stalking us both in the branches of Rivendell's trees, when you were visiting us after your father passed.  She saw you then, mentioned you once to me because of your scent, but never again after that."

"My scent?"

"She said that you smelled like home, despite the fact that I don't think she had been to their mountain at that point, or if she had, she should have been too young to remember it."

***

The mountain loomed larger as Vera approached it.  She had lived in solitude on it for so many years, yet the comparatively short time she had been in the Greenwood Palace seemed much too long.  Gravel crunched underneath her paws as she padded up the slope towards the mouth of the cave.  She hadn't taken Thranduil here, when she had kidnapped him the week of her arrival.  It looked exactly like how she had left it, almost completely bare.  The furniture was bare bones, mostly made out of stone to avoid rotting, with no fabric left behind after she had burned it.  Deeper in, the cave narrowed down to a tunnel leading deep into the mountainside, deep into her old home.  She stood at the entrance, staring into the dark, when a smell caught her attention.  She could smell the filthy odor of orcs deep within her home.

The growl stayed deep and guttural in her chest, reverberating quietly through the cave.  The red haze of battle fell over her eyes, and she crept forward, disappearing into the darkness of the tunnel.

Words:

Mahal: The dwarvish name for Aule, a Vala, which means "maker".

A/N:  Guess who's not dead???  ME!  Summer break is here, and I am happy to announce that I am back to writing this story!  Sorry for all of the cuts in perspective, the next few chapters will contain them as well since we're getting an influx of new characters.  How'd you like that larger piece of Vera's backstory?  I enjoyed coming up with that, I thought it fit to have her mother be the ferocious one and her father be the diplomat.  I am also extremely excited to be writing Gimli and Legolas, since they're one of my favorite duos from the books and the movies.  Comment what you thought, vote if you liked it, and thank you SO MUCH for the crazy amount of reads on this story!  Love you guys!