At noon, the winter sun shone warmly on the people of Dale, bringing a trace of warmth to the bitter weather.
Man, Wizard, and Elf gathered in the tent once more.
Thranduil gazed at the half necklace glittering in its box and the contract spread across the table, lost in thought.
Allen watched the Elven king closely, trying to guess what was going through his mind.
From the slight upward curve of Thranduil's lips, Allen could tell that he was probably in an excellent mood.
Of course he was. After two hundred years, the token of love he had shared with his wife had finally returned to him.
Even half of it was enough to delight him, and the contract on the table gave this Sinda hope of recovering the other half.
Indeed, Thranduil was in a very good mood. Happy, even. He had not felt this happy in many years.
Moreover, seeing the gems and the contract had brought him a sense of relief.
If he could recover the Starlight Gem through other means, why would Thranduil truly want to slaughter the Dwarves?
He was, after all, the king of a benevolent race. Unless driven beyond a certain point, he would never turn his blade on his former allies.
And slaughtering the Dwarves of Durin's Folk would have terrible consequences. The Half-orcs living in the Misty Mountains knew that all too well.
Thranduil was not unwilling to sign the contract. He was merely considering whether he could retrieve all the gems before doing so.
Even Elves could show greed when it came to certain things.
But before Thranduil could ponder the matter for long, more guests arrived at the Lonely Mountain.
No, guests was not the right word. They were its rightful owners: Dwarves of Durin's Folk from the