The frown never seemed to cease from his features, but Thorin did follow his eldest nephew from the room. "I will be back momentarily," he told the company pointedly, his way of instructing them to stay put until he resolved this matter. Bilbo gripped his cup of tea a bit tighter, his nerves completely shot.

Thorin was doing his best to remain levelheaded, but the mere mention of elves brought back less than pleasant memories for him. It did not help that his journey to obtain help in their quest had proved useless; he was on edge, and now was not the best time to confront him. Had it been any of the others, he would not have been reconciled with. Saeril was lucky that Fili had spoken on her behalf.

"She was right." Kili grinned lightly when he saw that he'd succeeded in cheering his godmother up. This was what he had hoped to do. Once he'd collected the remains of the mirror, he rose as well, but then he saw Thorin in the doorway. Kili hadn't heard him, and so this caught him off guard. The youngest paled a bit, then cleared his throat nervously. "Thorin, this is--"

"I know who this is." Thorin interrupted him briskly, irregardless if this was the case or not. The king's eyes were penetrating, and he observed the she-elf icily from where he stood. The broken glass did not go unmissed by him, though he did not question it now. "I have been informed that you wish to accompany us to the Lonely Mountain."