Author Note: So this is the first outtake, or one of them anyway. Battle of Azanulbizar. I’m going by the movie adaption and not the book version, easier this way.
BTW I should mention Italics are the elves speaking in their native tongue Sindarin. Bold Italics is when they are speaking in Khuzdul. All words translated at the bottom.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the twilight series and I really don’t own any of Tolkien’s amazing work.
The first whisper of battle reached Moriel’s ears was twelve years after the Smaug had claimed the lonely mountain. She had tried with all her might after she had healed to help those that desperately needed help. Some had taken up her offer while others simply downright refused, cursing her very being and called her traitor.
She understood their grief and pain easily, but it disheartened the fact that because of her kinlike the Dwarrow’s were suffering. Though she knew it was not all to blame on Thranduil, the good part was to blame of Thrór’s greed, accumulating enough wealth and gold, jewels and trinkets to garner the attention of a dragon.
But then she also knew that the true blame would go to Sauron, the darkness he had poured into the rings of power that each and every head of the Dwarven kingdoms received.
Now the Dwarrow’s were trying to reclaim the great Ancient Dwarven kingdom- Khazad-dûm. She knew by passing people and rumours of those that had heard it that King Thrór was summoning armies from all the kingdoms. The Firebeards, Broadbeams and even the Dwarven kingdoms to the far east of Arda but their armies were no match to what was housed in Moria. Beyond the uncountable orcs there laid a beast Durin’s Bane. If they were to wake the creature then there was no hope for Durin’s Folk.
“I had hoped the news did not reach you Can-nín.” Elrond sighed as he stepped into her room, eyeing his battle ready sister.
Canadriel turned towards her brother with a tired sigh. “I must go; I cannot stand by and watch them fight a battle I know they will lose. You and I both know what is about to happen, what will become of them all and I just… Something pulls me there Hanar not that of my chosen bound but something else.” She explained, strapping swords to her hip and back.
“Then I cannot stop you, I will not stop you.” He sighed. “But be careful nethig, I you and my children are all that I have left of this world.”
Canadriel turned and embraced her brother tightly. “I will try but you know I cannot promise you this.”
“Have you told them that you are going? Or does that duty fall upon me?” He stated angrily as she began to gather her things to leave.
Canadriel froze, she knew he meant her parents and her sister’s children of her plans but alas no, she had not told them at all for she did not know if she were to perish in the battle or not. Her shoulders slumped in defeat.
“No, I will write to them, call me coward if you wish but I cannot face them. After Dale, after the dragon I just… this is something I must do and they will not understand.” She tried to explain, the words rolling off her tongue confusedly.
Elrond frowned but nodded his head before taking his leave of the room, he could not face his sister, could not say goodbye to the person who held him together when his Chosen was tortured and sailed. She had become his sister beyond marriage, she was heart-bound now and to lose that would be like the death of his brother… Elros.
Canadriel sighed sadly; placing her pack down and gathering the parchments she needed for her parents and for her sister’s children.
By the time you get this letter, you would have already known my decision. I know you would not agree with my decision, going into battle alone, surrounded by Dwarrow who hate our kind. But I cannot allow them to suffer more, cannot by good conscious let those injured die when I could have helped.
I am drawn there, like a moth to a flame, a pull to be there that is stronger than any other I have felt before and you know Emil that I must follow my instinct.
I love you both.
The letter was short, she knew her parents would not fully agree with her but they would understand. It was not often that an Elf would be pulled towards something, especially something like this but if there was a pull then they must follow it.
My dearest Elflings,
Do not be sad or mad at my decision. I could not face you to tell you and by the time you read this then I will be gone.
I do not wish to say goodbye, for I knew that if I were to see you then that would what it would be and I could not… Call me selfish and cowardly if you may but I couldn’t stand to see the pain that would be upon your faces when you see me go.
I am unsure upon this quest and what it all entails but I will try to come back home.
I love you my little Elflings,
When the last letter was written, tears pooling in her eyes Canadriel gathered her things once more and laid the letters side by side for them to be found. With one last look around her room she left, leaving in the light of the full moon and made her way south down the mountains towards Moria.
She knew that her kin would not help, they would of course kill those of the Orcs that passed in or towards the lands but they would not come to aid for they knew there was a chance for the Dwarrow’s to kill them in spite.
It was something Canadriel risked herself but she had to go, something called her to battle.
It took two months for her to reach the halls of Moria and she had arrived mid battle. Death and decay surrounded her, rotting corpses of Orcs and slain Dwarrow covered the earth while the battle continued on.
She did not hesitate as her eyes scanned the battle field, catching each and every injured and near death Dwarrow that was left as healers tried to get to them but unable due to the set of orcs that were on the off skirts of the field of the dead.
Canadriel moved through the bodies, her swords slashing and killing the orcs that were left alive in her wake; she moved to the closest living Dwarrow she saw and hoisted him up into her arms and over her shoulder. The Dwarrow thrashed in her arms but she endured and carried on, sheathing one sword before grabbing another fallen soldier.
“Quickly, take them, I need to go and gather the others.” She explained roughly as she burst through the tent, shocking the healers as she gently laid the warriors on free beds before rushing out and back into the throws of battle.
She dodged, ducked and slashed her way through the battle to the injured. She had received minor cuts and other grazes as she did so, carrying back two to three injured warriors each turn. Though many she had saved died in her arms as she carried them back towards the healing tents.
None of the healers dared to say a word or move to strike her after the first time, for they were too shocked at the aid and begrudgingly thankful that she was saving their kin when they and others could not.
On her tenth trip since arriving she came to a sudden stop, her eyes locking onto the fair haired prince she remembered. Her knees gave out instantly, sword clanging on the fallen orcs around the dying flaxen-haired prince.
“Have you come to guide me to Mahal’s halls?” Frerin gasped out, blood splattering his face.
“No I have not… you know I cannot enter your makers halls my sweet Frerin.” She replied, moving so he could see her face.
“Ah, my lady. You should not be here.” He gasped out once more, his hand reaching out for her. Canadriel instantly wrapped her hand around his while the other brushed back the hair from his face.
“Neither should you Frerin, you are not of age… why fight a battle you were not ready for?” She asked softly.
“For my people… I could not leave Thorin this was my battle too. I am gl-glad you are here My Lady. I shall not die alone.” He choked out, his body convulsing with coughs.
She did not hesitate, her hands flying to the wound that was on his chest and pressed down, chanting words to heal him.
“No my lady, it is my time to go. Tan menu selek lanun naman.” He whispered before closing his eyes, a smile upon his face.
Canadriel felt the tears pool in her eyes, Frerin had been the only one that held no true animosity over her kind when she had visited. She had named him Elf-friend and he had called her Dwarrow-Friend, though his family did not know, he was so young then ten or fifteen. He was taken to his makers’ halls to soon.
“Hurun ganat, fair prince.” She whispered, pressing her forehead to his before standing.
Rage and sadness swirled together like a violent storm as she pushed forward, not once glancing back at her fallen friend as she slashed her way through the Orcs that were on the edge of the battle. She let her rage out, let her blades and body speak of her rage as she culled the filth before returning to help the injured.
The pull to be here was still strong, if not stronger than what it was before and she knew now that she had to help heal, save as many as she could.
“I wish to help, if you will allow me to.” She grunted out as she stepped into the main medical tent, many healers scurrying around in desperate attempts to heal the wounded.
“You are an elf.” One healer replied bluntly causing Canadriel to snort.
“And you are a dwarf. Yes, I am an elf. Moriel, at your service.” She stated, giving the head healer a bow.
“Balnar son of Bolnar, at your service. It is against my nature to let an elf help but we are little in numbers. I watched you risk your life on the battle field to bring back many of my kin, my brother Belnar be one of them.” Balnar explained gruffly gesturing to an unconscious warrior to the left of him, his upper torso wrapped in bandages.
“I will heal those that I can, this I swear.” She explained before moving to the first dwarf to her right and kneeled, his eyes were blow wide as he flailed around his now handless arm. She could tell it was severed by an orcish mace and not surgically, it looked to be infected as well.
Canadriel quickly grabbed her bag that she filled of herbs and pulled out the ones she needed to tent to the wound while asking for water. “I need you to drink this; it will ease your pain.” She explained softly, lifting the bowl to the dwarf’s lips.
He spluttered and cursed at her, accusing her of trying to poison him but she pushed him back down, her temper getting the best of her which caused the wind to swirl around and through the tent. Her voice near cracking with her anger as she told the Dwarrow to drink the blasted draught.
“Ceven dhaer, anno vellas lín enin ‘raw hen… Suil Annui, erio thûl lín i faer hen.” She chanted, asking the earth and winds to give the Dwarrow strength and breath to heal. She repeated the chant until his body calmed and the altheas that she had put in the draught begin to help. She blinked away the haze as she cleaned and bound the wounds before moving onto the next.
Many questioned her, but soon none of the sick did as the cries in the tent died down as they all slumbered, their pains dying down to manageable aches or the fevers breaking. Balnar stayed close to the she-elf, keeping an eye on what she was doing to make sure she didn’t harm or poison his kin but that soon turned into keeping her on her feet by the time she was through the third tent.
Canadriel stumbled to her feet as a victorious cry filled the air, many Dwarrow’s around her cheering for their win against the Orcs but it was short lived as the news of King Thrór’s and Thráin death reached them.
“You have done enough for today, rest and eat.” Belnar instructed the elf as she stumbled out of the tent and towards the next one.
Canadriel shook her head no as she moved, her feet dragging her to a larger tent past the others. Belnar seeing where the elf went rushed after her, clenching his eyes tight as a snarl reached his ears. He quickly pushed his way into the tent and let his shoulder sag in relief as he saw that it was nothing too bad just more sick.
“You need to let me help! He is poisoned, I cannot let him die!” Canadriel near screamed as she tried to push her way past the brown-haired Dwarrow towards the thrashing one with a Mohawk.
“Let her, she has been helping our kin for the past two days. You need to be looked at as well, let her do this.” Balnar stated, causing the Dwarrow to pause and reluctantly nod.
Canadriel gave her thanks before rushing towards the thrashing Dwarrow, jerking her head back as he flung a fist out towards her. The very second her hand settled upon the Dwarrow’s flesh the pull eased and she knew that she was here for him and for his brother.
“What are your names?” She asked as she held the struggling Dwarrow down, grunting as his fist connected with her ribs.
The one that had tried to stop her winced as he walked his arm cradled against his chest. “I am Balin son of Fundin.” His voice cracked at the mention of his father causing Canadriel to look at the body on the far side of the tent. “He is Dwalin my brother.”
It was then as she took in the features of the Dwarrow that the anger from finding Frerin returned. “May Mandos judge Thrór poorly for his greed, for allowing children to battle.” She hissed darkly in her mother tongue before turning back to the young dwarfling before her.
“I will do all I can for you and your brother, I will not let you suffer or perish because of this battle… I will not lose you.” She stated the last bit no more than a whisper as she began to gather what was left of the altheas.
She began to crush and grind the leaves, using all that she had and mixed it into the water before removing the leaves and placing the paste upon the blackened wound. Morgul poison… Dwalin roared and bucked trying to get away from the pain as she tied the paste to the wound before grunting as she found herself flying back from a hit.
“Hold him down! We need to get the poison out or he will die!” She yelled as she got to her feet once more and pressed her hand upon the wound while Balin and Balnar held the thrashing dwarf down.
“Ceven dhaer, anno vellas lín enin ‘raw hen… Suil Annui, erio thûl lín i faer hen. Menno o nin na hon i eliad annen annin, hon leitho o ngurth… Menno o nin na hon i eliad annen annin, hon leitho o ngurth.” She chanted pushing all her energy into healing the young Dwarrow before her.
Balin and Balnar jerked back in surprise as the elf began to glow, her words growing stronger with each repetition until she jerked back, Dwalin becoming still as the hallucinations, fever and pain vanished.
“Catch her!” Balnar yelled as she saw the She-elf sway. Balin spun, a cry of pain escaping his lips as he jostled his wounded ribs and arm as he caught the she-elf.
It was then that he got a good look at her; she had raven night hair a soft flush to her pale skin and high cheekbones. She did not hold the beauty that their dwarrowdam’s had but she was somehow stunning in her own way. Something shifted within Balin as he carefully and painfully lifted her from the ground and placed her on his cot, her body lax.
“Good she is resting, she has not stopped since she came storming into my healing tent with two wounded Dwarrow on her shoulders.” He explained softly before chuckling as he moved to examine the Dwarrow. “Nearly took her head off with my axe as she came rushing in with the wounded, for an elf she’s alright.”
Balin raised his brows as he turned towards the she-elf. “Really?”
“Don’t forget that every Dwarrow I tried to help either struck me as I carried them from the field or spat out the medicine, cursed me and accused me of poisoning them.” Canadriel sighed out as her eyes snapped open and she sat up, shocking Balin and Balnar both. They had thought she had finally passed out and was asleep but she had heard every bit of conversation.
“They stopped after the first seven patients; even the healers stopped watching you, glad that our kin and kith were calm, asleep and not in major pain or a high risk of death.” Balnar pointed out once he got over his shock causing the elf to snort, something that seemed entirely unnatural considering that elves were all pompous and regal-like.
“That may be so but I can hear them whispering and I can feel their hatred and distrust. I do not blame them for this hate, but I was there that day when Erebor fell, I helped many escape from the flames of Dale and Erebor.” She explained offhandedly as she got to her feet, Balin and Balnar blinked in shock as they watched the she-elf make her way to Dwalin’s side and checked his wound and temperature. “How many dead?”
Balin paled and blinked away the tears as he turned his head away. “Beyond the count of grief.”
Canadriel closed her eyes tightly as she tried to hold the sadness and anger at bay. “Balnar they need you in tent five, something about removing a limb.”
Balnar jerked in surprise but nodded, pausing in the doorway as he glanced back upon the Dwarf, unsure if he should leave him be or not.
“Go, I’ll be fine.” Balin explained and Balnar left immediately.
“I am sorry for your losses. Did Thorin find Frerin?” She asked softly, causing Balin to jerk slightly but she did not remove her gaze from Dwalin.
“How did you know about Frerin? How do you know?” He demanded, how did the she-elf know about his dead cousin, or the fact that they were related at all?
“I found Frerin on the battlefield, I could not save him. He died while I was by his side, I knew Frerin, I knew Thrór and I knew his forefathers before him.” She explained softly before turning to face the young dwarf.
“You need to rest, I can hear the wheezing of your breath and if you do not rest then you could jostle the broken ribs and puncture a lung.” She explained in Westron, ignoring the shocked and pained look. “Would you like me to help you remove your armour?”
Balin tensed before nodding his content with a sigh; his eyes watched her sharply as she quickly and expertly removed his armour with ease and without jostling him. He wondered briefly if she had been in many battles for her to be that efficient and decided not to ask.
“Will he be okay?” He asked the she-elf as his eyes landed on his sleeping brother.
“It will take him a while to heal, the poison is dangerous and deadly, though I healed him of it I cannot heal him from the rest. The cut on his face will be fine, a scar he shall have but there is not much I can guarantee about the rest. There, you are done, rest. If you need me send for someone or call me, I will come.” She explained before standing, Balin blinked and looked down at his wrapped ribs and frowned. “The lung is healing slowly; I have sped up the process so you will not have the risk of it collapsing or worse.”
“What is your name she-elf and why help us?” Balin asked hesitant, suspicious as she went to leave.
Canadriel paused at the door and cast the Dwarrow a look over her shoulder, eyes tired and sad. “My name is Moriel and I helped because I had to, I could not let you all suffer, and in time you will understand. Now sleep Balin son of Fundin, let not your worries trouble you so tonight.” She whispered before taking her leave.
That night they burned the dead and she watched from the shadows of the healing tents.
Canadriel grew weary of the days that led after the battle had finished, there were many injured and she could not save them all. Though many had distrusted her at first – some still do – they came to realise that she was indeed here to help them. She had proved herself over and over to them as she worked herself to near sickness and tiredness as they marched back from Moria to a safe distance for many to recover.
She did not know truly how long she had been with the Dwarrow, until they reached the first town of Men upon their travels west and it was then that she saw why the Dwarrow did not trust anyone beyond their kin. It became more noticeable in the next town of why exactly they thought this way.
The town was prosperous in its own right but greedy, charging the Dwarrow more than what they would say her kind or theirs and it angered her. Many of the wounded had healed beyond the few that were still critical; many had left for other kingdoms but the few hundred that remained loyal to the newly made king.
“What has happened?” She asked stiffly as Balnar came in muttering curses.
“We have run out of herbs we need to keep infection and fevers at bay. We are running low on funds and hope. The town of men tried to charge me double of what they would another. I saw a Dwarrow give up his family bead to feed his family.” He spat furious before jerking back as he saw the dark look on the elf’s face.
“The men are charging double for food and medicine?” She hissed before standing from her kneeled position beside a healing Dwarrow.
“Many of us have had to give away our precious heirlooms including the king to feed our families, it happens in every town. That or we work underpaid by smithing, tinkering and what not.” A dwarrowdam whispered from one of the beds at the back of the tent, her hands bandaged from taking a bad burn.
Canadriel hissed before storming out of the tent, a mix of curses leaving her lips. The Dwarrow’s that were able followed, all practically tumbling over one another as they stopped outside the tent to see the elf march towards the In brothers tent.
“Moriel, what is the matter?” Balin asked concerned and tired, flinching back as the she-elf’s dark eyes scanned over both him and Dwalin with a critical eye.
“Tell me you didn’t.” She hissed as she saw their family beads missing. “Was it this town?”
Dwalin cringed as the air crackled. “Yes, we needed clothes and food.”
Canadriel blinked before her face went lax and that caused the Dwarrow to squirm, if someone would tell them that they’d be fearful of an Elf months even years ago, everyone would have laughed and locked them away. But here both the In brothers flinched at the sight of their Moriel’s eyes burning with rage.
“I will need these.” She stated while picking up Dwalin’s axes and war hammer and strapped them to her back before storming out of the tent.
The two brothers cast a look at each other before following after the elf, just in time to see her strap her swords and daggers to her person before striding towards the Man town.
She was quite aware she had a following of Dwarrow behind her and she was also quite aware that many of Men and Women stopped and stared at her as she marched towards the Master of this town’s house.
“What is the meaning of this?” The man demanded as he stepped out of his home, his face draining of colour as he took in the elf before him heavily armed and the dwarves behind her.
“I have come to be told that you and your people are underpaying and overcharging these Dwarrow’s.” The elf stated simply, her voice cracking across the square.
“And what if I have? I am letting them camp on my land for nothing.” He stated snottily and instantly regretted it as he watched the elf smile. It was a smile that unsettled everyone, as a smile like that did not belong on an ethereal being.
The ground began to rumble violently under their feet and cracks began to spread and creep their way towards the master. The wood groaned and grumbled behind him and the wind howled viciously around them.
I can tear down this town without lifting a finger… The Master jumped as the voice echoed in his head like a soft whisper in the wind. I also see you trade with the elves of Lothlórien, I will be sure to tell them of your greed and dishonour… my mother will surely not wish to deal with the likes of you anytime soon…
The Master whimpered as he realised who the elf before him was. You have a choice, give the Dwarrow fair trade and payment for their works, give back all they gave you that is important or I will ruin you and desolate this village.
Canadriel wouldn’t do that she was a protector of free people but he didn’t need to know that.
“Tell me what will you do now?” She asked out loud to the pale shaking form of the Master.
“Victor, give all the dwarves back th-their belongings… Ev-Everyone is to be paid full for their work and charged fairly from now on, m-m-my word is law.” The Master stammered out causing Canadriel to smile wide, the tremors, wind and groaning wood stopped instantly.
“Good, if I hear another thing about my company starving and having to trade what is left of their race and culture because of greed then I shall be back and do what I said.” She hummed before turning on her foot and marching out of the square.
The humans and Dwarrow made a path for her, the Men cringing in fear while the Dwarrow stared up at the elf in awe. An Elf who had helped them since the Battle of Azanulbizar, the elf who had helped heal many of them and ran herself down into the ground doing so and asked for nothing in return.
Ice blue eyes watched the elf leave, plans forming in the Dwarrow’s mind.
That night there was a feast in the Dwarrow camp. The town of Men supplied them with enough food and ale to celebrate and as an apology gift. Though all the Dwarrow’s in the camp knew that this wouldn’t have happened without the help of Moriel, the elf-maiden.
“Come join us lass, they feast in your victory.” Balin stated softly as he stood at the tent flaps of Moriel’s make-shift home. His eyes scanned the small space with a frown, there was not much in the tent but a bed, a small table, a chair, a lamp and her chest that they gave her.
“No you go ahead Balin; I’m going to rest. Do not let your heart be troubled, go and feast for you are weary with sorry and much toil. Go and be merry, you and Dwal deserve some form of happiness for now.” She instructed with a soft smile, near pushing him from her tent.
She wished she could join them but she knew that though the Dwarrow may have accepted her somewhat they were still wary. But she was indeed weary and tired; she had helped heal some more injuries and tended to those who were still unconscious of the battle. Two had yet to be roused from their slumber and she was worried now that they would not wake, she could not reach them on their path to lead them back.
Balin hesitated by the door as he stared up at the elf that had somehow sworn herself to him and his brother, who has made it her duty to keep he and Dwalin safe and fed. She had yet to explain or tell them why and it drove them both mad but they could not find it within themselves to ask why or send her away.
They could not even come to hate the elf lass for being an elf.
“Okay Moriel, I’ll send you back some food, you must eat too.” He stated, leaving no room for argument and causing her to laugh.
“Go noegin, worry not about me. I have eaten.” Canadriel chuckled out while pushing him towards the direction the bonfires were.
Canadriel watched as Balin disappeared within the tents and growing numbers with a soft smile before turning back to her table. She fingered the drawing and design of the two pendants on the rough paper with a fond smile; they would be tokens she would give to them if they accepted her as kin. For it was them they were called here, they had to survive the harshness of this war and she knew that it was important for the future. What she was not expecting however was to see them as little brothers, she had helped heal them and had soothed their woes and doubts late at night. Had even eased their nightmares and guilt over the loss of their father and cousin some nights.
“Nadad, you finally arrive!” Dwalin called from his spot by the fire, Balnar and Belnar, Óin and Thorin at his side.
“I take it the Lass was not up to joining us?” Óin asked simply as he puffed at his pipe.
“Aye no, she is resting.” Balin sighed as he sat beside Dwalin, thanking him as he took the ale from him.
“Good, she needs the rest. The Lass has been running herself to near death trying to heal the ones we have injured left.” Balnar stated with a burp after he drowned his ale.
“What she did to do was… was…” Belnar tried to get out but unable to truly form the words of how amazing that spectacle was.
Thorin hummed drawing the attention of all the Dwarrow’s around him. “I thought I would never see the day an elf would come to our aid. It has not gone unbeknown to me that the elf has been here since mid-battle and had been healing our kin. I have heard many blessings to the she-elf by many who she had saved, thinking her presence here is a blessing of Mahal and Eru.”
No one said a word as their usual silent king spoke, it was rare to see Thorin among the others and even rarer to see and hear the king speak beyond bouts of orders or to give them all hope and strength as he lead them west.
“Balin, Dwalin she has been staying near you, has taken to… caring for you. What are your opinions of the Elf?” He asked his cousins and closest friends.
“Aye, she’s been caring for us, fretting near like it. I was wary at first, till Dwalin woke up and growing stronger under her care. She truly does care for our kin, my king.” Balin replied honestly, making note to apologise to him when he saw Thorin wince at his title.
“She mothers us.” Dwalin grunted before taking a bite of his food. “The Lass has got a sharp tongue and the temperament and stubbornness of a dwarf. But she is honourable and can be trusted.”
Thorin nodded and hummed in thought as he took in the words of his kin and closest friends. He trusted them above all else, he grew with them, fought with them and had been trained in battle by Dwalin even if the former was younger than he.
Fundin was a mighty warrior and had trained his youngest to be the same way.
“Then bring her to me, I wish to speak with her.” He ordered, causing Balin to blink and nod without complaint even if he did look weary.
Canadriel frowned as she opened her tent flap to see Balin make his way towards her, a concerned look upon his face. “Balin? What is the matter? Is someone hurt? Are you hurt?” She fretted.
“No Lass, the king wishes to speak with you.” He explained, looking up at her with a confused frown.
She couldn’t help but blink before nodded and stepped out of the tent and gestured for him to lead the way. Canadriel took notice that many of the Dwarrow stopped what they were doing, whether mid feed or song and watched her walk by.
“You wished to see me, oh king?” She asked softly, bowing in respect towards Thorin. He looked aged beyond his years and it stuck her deeply, stoking the embers of her anger she held towards Thrór.
“My kin have told me all you have done and we have not honoured you properly.” He stated loudly, causing all to stop and look upon their king. Canadriel’s head flew up at this with confusion.
“You have allowed me to stay and help you when I know you do not trust me fully, it is more than enough.” She replied causing some to frown and others to snort.
Thorin frowned. “What your kin have done is inexcusable but for what I have heard, seen and have been told you are not like them. You have shown your worth in the eyes of my kin and kith, you have proved to be loyal and kind to a race beyond your own and asked for nothing in return. I recognise that we are forever in your debt.”
“I do not claim a debt upon Durin Folk.” She hissed out, causing Thorin to smirk ever so slightly, proving all that has been heard about the elf.
“Then I shall forever name you Moriel DwarrowFriend, HealerOfKin.” He exclaimed loudly for all to hear.
The silence lasted a few beats before a roar of cheers went up in the camp. Dwalin, Balin and Belnar rushed towards the stunned elf with cheer. Thorin just smiled upon the elf before making his leave, happy for a change and knowing deep down he did the right thing.
Author Note: Well here you go! Maybe the next piece will be Moriel’s accident that was mentioned in Safe Amongst Kin.