painless wounds ;; the hobbit

the quest ;;

Cyrille stood behind the dwarf, who's name she learned was Thorin. The Elvenking stood before them.

"Some would imagine a noble quest is at hand. A quest to reclaim a homelands d slay a dragon." Thranduil began. "I myself, suspect a more prosaic motive. An attempted burglary, or something of that ilk."

He looked down at Thorin.

"You have found a way in. You seek that which would bestow upon you the right to rule. A king's jewel. The Arkenstone. It is precious to you beyond measure, I understand that. There are gems in the mountain that I too, desire. White gems of pure starlight. I offer you my help."

Thorin smiled. "I'm listening."

"I will let you go, if you but return what is mine."

"A favor for a favor." Thorin seemed to be considering it.

"You have my word, one king to another."

"I would not trust, Thranduil, the Great King, to only his word. Till the end of all days be upon us!"

Thranduil was visibly shocked at his words. Cyrille was also shocked. Nobody refused the Great Elvenking. Nobody. If you did, that meant a lifetime in prison, or even worse, death.

"Cyrille, you may leave." the King said, acknowledging her presence.

She nodded and the guards escorted her out. The last thing she heard was Thorin yelling, "Ishkh khakfe andu null!"

You can go burn in dragonfire, she thought, since she understood dwarvish. This was not going well. The dwarves were probably going to die.

They were on a noble quest, she believed that. To slay a dragon and reclaim their homeland? No... it couldn't be. They were going to try and defeat Smaug? And reclaim Erebor? If that Thorin was really who he said, that he was King Under The Mountain, then she would help them. She would.

Cyrille told Tauriel and Legolas everything. Legolas shook his head in disbelief. "They're really going to do that?"

"That's what they say."

"We have to help them." Tauriel said, a little too eagerly.

"You'll be banished if you do. We shouldn't risk it." Legolas said.

Cyrille stood up. "I've already decided. Nothing you can do about it. I don't care if I'm banished."

That was what she said, so that's what she would do.

---

Later that night, she and Tauriel visited the dungeons. After Cyrille had left, they had both agreed to meet.

Tauriel crouched in front of one call, and began to talk with the dwarf Cyrille had saved from the spider. The one she gave back the rock.

The one Cyrille crouched in front of was occupied by a dwarf with a thick white beard. He looked at her expectantly.

"What's your name?" She asked.

"Balin." he answered. "Yours?" he seemed nicer and more hospitable than the rest.

"Cyrille. Is it true that you're going to Erebor to reclaim the throne?"

"Yes. That lad over there is Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King of Erebor."

So it was true.

"Thirteen is an unusual number for a quest. I heard dwarves are superstitious. Do you have another member of your troop?"

"Yes, actually. But he went missing when you found us. He was the one who saved us first from the spiders. He was our Burglar."

"Another dwarf?" Cyrille asked, because she couldn't imagine a sneaky or even slightly secretive dwarf.

"No, a Hobbit. A good lad, he was. Saved Thorin's life once."

She smiled a little. "A Hobbit, huh? What's his name?"

"The burglar's name is Bilbo. Bilbo Baggins."

Cyrille was surprised. She knew Bilbo, from the Shire. She was good friends with his mother, Belladonna Took. But she never took him for an adventurer.

"He went missing, you say?"

"No." came a voice. "I'm right here. And we're going to escape."

There stood Bilbo, twenty-five years older than she had ever seen him. And in his hands, a ring of keys.

The two elleths stood there, surprised. As Bilbo unlocked the gates, they did nothing, except walk away.

They were completely oblivious to the figure watching from above, piercing blue eyes darting around.