A/N: Helo, dearest readers, sorry for not talking to you as much as you deserve. Past weekend we had a little party for my 13 y.o. son and even if little, it demanded a lot of time. It was worth every minute, be sure.

Also, I was tested and approved for a Brazilian music choir in my city, in the same foundation my kids are already singing. I'm very happy about it, but it will also demand some hours more form my already slim schedule. Don't worry, I'll never leave this fic until it's finished, and I'm using the time my son is rehearsing to write. ;)

I thank you for every review and for the courage to follow someone as bumpy as me, but believe, even if I never imagined ths would grow this size, every character and every scene has a reason to be there.

If you like this chapter, spend a few seconds to drop a review. I love to her what you think about it, it helps me to improve and to bring it closer to what you like.

Namarië!

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The kidnapped ones and their rescuers soon crossed paths with the herd that rounded the steeper hillside, guided by the few men of Dale who stayed back to guard it. The two elves took their own horses, that would stand no other rider, and Bard was glad to be off his own feet.

"We should redistribute our lifts so each steed caries only two." Stated Balin, massaging his shoulder.

"Aye, Lord Balin." Agreed Ulfir, rearranging the little ones here and there with the help of Kharim.

"You'll find the hunting party a couple of miles from here, I hope." Mentioned Bard. "Lend them speed, if you may."

Kharim nodded and chose to stay with Vidar and the others, feeling responsible for the king's horses in that occasion even if he was off duty.

"I know precisely the way; we'll be there in a jiffy." Offered the dark-skinned man, turning his horse in the right direction.

"May Oromë lend you speed, my friends!" Wished Culuin, hand on heart.

"Thank you, sir! We'll be swift!"

With this the herd was led away, the thunder of the hooves muffling Tauriel's smirk at the silver-haired elf.

"You were not blessing those men, were you?"

"Of course not; everyone knows Oromë loves the creatures of Yavanna rather than the Second Born!

"You're impossible!"

000ooo000

Ellen's angry words were cut short by the sound of an arriving party on hooves. The goblins bestirred, but kept in their places under the watchful eyes of the silent warriors while Bofur and Ori helped the newcomers to dismount. Bombur never left his post with a cleaver behind Ellen's back.

"Finally!" Kíli cried as he ran to Ellen's side.

Never leaving her eyes from the goblin under her charge, she addressed him.

"Kíli, this… filth touched our children and swears they escaped. I'm tempted to make his guts escape his belly until he tells me the truth and where the prisoners are."

Kíli reached out his hands and cupped her face, turning her to him. The ones who came along, Bifur, Nori and Glóin, as well as Estel and several rangers with him, made sure they lowered guard would be no risk.

"Ellen… It is true." His dark eyes and deeps tone of voice calmed her. "Maybe not all the truth, but it is true. The all escaped, they are safe."

His words should have a soothing effect on her, to know those little ones were no more under sticky goblin hands should make her relax, but no. The incursion of those goblins so deep in the kingdom without being noticed, the kidnapping just a bowshot from the gates of Erebor… She would never be in peace again.

"For how long, my King? Until they figure out another scheme to threaten our kingdom? Until they are able to kidnap some of ours again?"

Her eyes glistened with tears of anger, something Kíli was not used to. She shook her head trembling with tension. He could understand and relate to what she said, but he also knew that Erebor would not be able to deal with the orcs as had just been decided in Dale and also hold a war against the goblins of the Misty Mountains. First, because it was further away from their borders than the Grey Mountains and even Gundabad, which was the worst concern. Second, because if orcs bred like rats, goblins bred like ants, while dwarves… well, dwarves bred like dwarves, and it meant their numbers grew very, very slowly. But in her 'mother bear mode' it was obvious she could not consider all those variables. She was a strategist, but, in that moment, first of all she was a mother. But Kíli knew his wife, and knew he could not speak aloud all that there was to be known.

"Ellen Dwarvenheart, look into my eyes."

It was an unusual request, but she knew better than to deny him. Her elven gift of sensing someone's 'leitmotif" was not very developed, but had been enough to prevent some deceitful negotiations, at least. She obeyed.

It was the first time they had that interaction in front of others. They had done it a couple of times for Ellen to train it, but Kíli found it too exposing to let her do it at will; not that he had any secrets to his wife, but the one-sided communication was too invasive for his own tastes.

And to look into his eyes she did. When he asked her that, she knew he had something to tell her that could not be voiced outright then, and so she sought for what he wanted to tell her.

First she saw the same anger she felt for having their kids and friends stolen from them; the same anguish, the same fear of losing them. Then there was relief, knowing they were free and safe. And then the green light in Kíli's eyes grew to another dimension, and his attention was directed to wider horizons than their own hearth.

Then she knew.

They had no numbers. Even if their rage was justified, even if that invasion should be squelched and its perpetrators should be punished accordingly, not even the seven kingdoms would be enough to cleanse both the Misty Mountains and Gundabad from its filth.

And Gundabad was closer and more directly threatening, as the raids in recent years proved. Not that the goblins were not an issue that would have to be addressed someday, but… it would not be that day.

She wanted desperately to communicate back to him, to ask him what they should do next, frustrated for her abilities being so basic, and spoke back to him.

"I understand, my King. Command me at your will."

Those were the best words she found to ask him what to do without making it obvious to the enemy that she backed off of her wrath because they'd have no war power to fulfil any real menace.

But to the eyes of the goblins, it was the dwarf king who held power over the elf witch, it was him who controlled her and who could tell her to destroy them all. It was to him they should beg for mercy if there would be any of it for them at all. Because she already made clear she would have none, but put herself under the command of the dwarf king.

What went through the goblins' minds Kíli didn't know, but he knew what Ellen was really asking, and how to answer her. They had no ammunition, so they had to bluff. The twitch of his fingers on her face could be mistaken as a simple caress to anyone but the present dwarves, who could clearly read the Iglishmêk words.

"Improvise. Scare them."

But his audible words in Westron were more impressive.

"Do as I command!"

Ellen raised her dragonslayer sword high above her head in a dramatic stance and evoked her best LARP characters plus a Dungeons & Dragons campaign when she played a Halfling wizard. She only could not forget that he focus was on scaring the goblins, not in making the group of players to laugh.

"Hear my spell, all ye creatures of the dark, and keep my words if ye're willing to live another day! By the mercy of the King under the Mountain I release ye, and bless yer feet to guide ye straight home; but by the stars of Varda I decree: no limb shall stay in place, not breath shall leave the lungs of those who dare set eyes on these lands again!" She weaved the sword in the air to grab their attention, knowing the thrill it made when considered her own six feet height plus the almost five feet of Locënehtar. "Blind be the goblin eyes that come to see this blade again!"

The goblins' eyes were caught by the sword above her head, making them gape at the sight of the Lights of the North, and she resisted the curiosity to look too, deeming it probably was only the moon shining through the clouds. It didn't occur to her that the sky had been clear since they left the Mountain, and that the moon had already set hours ago.

"Misery, misery on us to live by the mercy of a dwarf and under the spell of a she-elf!"

The whining complaint came from a large goblin that was currently hiding his face in his rope-tied hands, close to where Burzg was tied to the tree.

"Shut up, chunk of dirt, else she worsens the spell!"

Noticing the leader was buying her bluff, she took the chance to lead it further. With a flowing movement she made a 'kill the dummies' swirl and changed it slightly at the end, stabbing the tree trunk right above the head of the goblin general.

"No more raids onto caravans; no more tunnelling into mountain passes; no more vengeance against The Bane and her people. This is the price of the King's mercy. Take it."

Kíli, sensing the right moment, took a step forward with an arrow already nocked to his bow, adding to the drama its sharp point trained to the goblins brow.

"This is my mercy; take it."

It was not a question, nor a suggestion, it was an order; and the goblin leader, eying warily the dragonslayer sword inches from his head, was more than willing to obey.

"I take it! We take it!"

Soon the voices of the other goblins joined him in a choir of 'we take it's, all of them with their globulous eyes fixed to the sky above them.

"What is your oath to grant my mercy?"

Kíli was in command of the scene now, improvising along his wife like if dancing to a melody they were used to, counting on their luck and the goblins' superstitions. Honour the creatures had not, but their fear could be used in the dwarves' advantage. In a harsh voice whose tremble betrayed the uncertainty of how his decision would be received back in Goblin Town, Burzg spoke out.

"No more to set eye or foot on the dwarf land of Erebor, nor to assail their caravans, no more expansions near outdoor roads, we swear on…"

"About vengeance! Retrieve your vengeance!"

"It was an oath of my people! I can't break and oath of my people!" Cried out the goblin at Kíli's angry demand.

Ellen retrieved her sword from atop the goblin's head and held it high, chanting in high-elvish in the hope that a bit more of show would work. Technically, she was cursing them, but her Cartesian mind didn't quite believe it would work, despite the effect her desperate plea had on Kíli's life at the Battle of the Five Armies.

"Retrieve!"

Kíli demanded once more noticing sweat drops on the creature's forehead. Ellen began to chant louder, in her contralto I-have-to-report-to-this-board-of-shareholders-and-the-microphone-crashed voice.

It worked.

"I swear! I swear by the bones of the throne of the Great Goblin in Goblin Town that The Bane and the elf-puppy people will be left in peace!"

"The whole oath!"

Kíli could not let the chance pass by to confirm the negotiated terms.

"By the bones of the throne of the Great Goblin in Goblin Town; I swear that The Bane and the elf-puppy people will be left in peace, that the goblins of Goblin Realm in the Misty Mountains no more will dig expansions near dwarf roads, nor bother dwarf caravans, neither set foot or eye on the dwarf land of Erebor. On the bones of my king and the spit of my blood, I swear!"

With his last word, he bit his own lip and spat black blood on the ground, the same time the elf stopped to chant and hit said blood with the tip of Locënehtar with a thud.

"You swear this oath?" Kíli's voice rang loud.

"We swear!" The whole goblin pack answered in unison.

"You swear this oath?"

"We swear!"

"You swear this oath?"

"We swear!"

"It is done!" Ellen's voice sealed the treaty. "Thrice ye swore, and thrice ye shall be doomed if you ever break this oath. Go, and do not look back!"

One by one the goblins were released, running away as soon as their hands and feet were free, not looking back nor waiting for any companion. They knew their way, and they would haste.

000ooo000

Only after the last goblin left did Ellen retrieve her sword from the black spot of goblin blood on the ground. If it was to be a show, she would take it to the end, even if now her arms ached from being in the same stance for hours long. The first lights of down were already showing in the eastern sky, colouring it with shades of pink and orange. Bombur took Locënehtar from her hands and sheathed it back on Jeronimo's saddle.

"Stubborn lass."

His affectionate punch on her arm almost shove her to the ground, being prevented only by Kíli's steady grasp where he was massaging Ellen's tingling limbs.

"It's just a family trait…"

Her dim voice betrayed how the elf really felt. Tired. Worn. Worried dead about her children.

Kíli just chuckled and undid the strap of the coif to take it off for his wife. She suffered his manhandlings (dwarfhandlings?) quietly, eyes down and lost. A rough hand lifted her chin until her downcast eyes met the archer's green ones.

"Your Adad would be proud of you."

She just shook her head, leaning down to touch Kíli's forehead with hers, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Is it over? Can we go home now?"

Kíli caressed the silk scarf wrapped around her head, trying to avoid the stitched patch on her forehead.

"We are going, my fancy elf. It is over."

Then, and only then, did she allow herself to cry.