#*|* father of the wandering dwarf king *|* :: thrain

[amid-ice-and-snow]

For: Open | within reason Muse: Elrohir Verse: Empath | AU / During the Hobbit

Dol Guldur.

formerly known as Amon Lanc; once the home and fortress of Oropher, late King of the Greenwood. now the current residence of the Necromancer, better known as Sauron. it wasn't a place where most would dare tread, even if they wanted to. not even the Elves of the Woodland Realm, who lived within the now aptly named Mirkwood, would go there.

it was common knowledge that Elves and Dwarves rarely got on well together, especially after the Fall off Erebor. both races tried to stay away from each other, only crossing paths if they had no other choice. in the few places they did live close to the other, Ered Luin for example; there were usually Rangers of the North nearby to keep the peace.

while folk almost never came to the old Elven fortress, it was far from being deserted. alongside the so called Necromancer and his minions, the dungeons held some long term guests of his. guests who had been missing for so long, many thought they were dead. and who, despite their races, had found a mutual companionship in each-other.

"…El..?"

'Just resting, Thrain…'

a lone blue eye peered at the, older than him but still young, elf. concern stirred at the faded mental response, a direct result of pulling him from the Dark Lord's grasp. he didn't know how long his companion had been in Dol Guldur but time had not been kind to either of them. "..Not alone… Above Tharkûn… Elves…"

the halting words, spoken in a mixture of Westron and Khuzdul, the secret language of Dwarves, finally caused silver eyes to open and focus on Thrain. only then, was it possible to fully recognise who the elf actually was: Elrohir, the younger twin son of Lord Elrond from Imladris.

'Elves… Few would attempt.. to come here.. unless…'

although still weakened from earlier, Elrohir used his empathy to scan the fortress for whom Thrain had spoken. it wasn't difficult- his grandmother and father were easy to identify. his time spent as Sauron's prisoner had strengthened his power yet at the same time, weakened his control.

so his scan was more powerful than the silent elf intended, unintentionally helping the White Council in their fight. there was also another unintended side effect: it alerted them to prisoners below.

'Gandalf, Thrain is.. alive and safe…'

although the message was intended for the Grey Wizard, it was broadcasted to both Istari and elves. his mental words soon wavered and faded. but there was no doubting who had spoken- or that the missing young elf was still alive. if only just.

[e-m-christina]

Wonderland: Kili x Reader Pt7

Requests are open!

MASTERLIST

SIX MONTHS AGO, THE PRANCING PONY.

In the lands beyond Bree, there were mysterious wanderers.

The Bree-folk called them Rangers and being unlettered hicks, for the most part, Bree folk knew nothing of the wanderer’s origins. They were believed to have strange powers of sight and hearing. When the Rangers appeared, they brought strange news from afar, but since they didn't buy anything from the markets, the Bree-folk did not make friends of them.

A cloaked and elderly wanderer sat in the corner with a raven perched on either shoulder, observing the people in the large common room of the inn.

It was large and mixed with all sorts of people. Butterball, the owner was talking to a group of dwarves near the fire.  On the benches were various folk: the local drunks for the most part, but also elves, hobbits and other odd figures in the shadowy corners.

The old wanderer was interested not in the drunks, but in a single dwarf who sat by the crackling fire. He had long, matted black hair, soaked by the rain and a grim expression. And opposite him sat a haggard grey wizard.

“Thorin, it has been a long time since anything but the rumour was heard of Thrain.” The wanderer heard the wizard say in a low voice.

“He still lives, I am sure it,” Thorin whispered back.  “My father came to see you before he went missing. What did he say to you?”

“I urged him to march upon Erebor, to rally the seven armies of the dwarves, to destroy the dragon and take back the Lonely Mountain,” Gandalf said and took a drink of ale. “And I would say the same to you, Thorin Oakensheild. Take back your homeland.”

“This is no chance meeting, is it Gandalf?”

“No, it is not.” Gandalf leaned forward. “The Lonely Mountain troubles me. The dragon has sat there long enough. Sooner or later, darker minds will turn towards Erebor.”

“Go on.” Said Thorin darkly.

“I ran into some unsavoury characters, whilst travelling on the Greenway. They mistook me for a vagabond.”

“I imagine they regretted that.”

“Yes,” Gandalf said and pulled out an old cloth with dark runes smudged into the material. “One of them was carrying this message.”

The wanderer watched as Thorin leaned forward to read the message, but the dwarf frowned and shook his head.

“I cannot read that.” He said.

“It is Black Speech,” Gandalf said. “A promise of payment.”

“For what?” Asked Thorin.

“Your head,” Gandalf said, and Thorin looked up, pale-faced. “You are the heir to the throne of Durin, unite the dwarf armies. Together, you have the might and power to retake Erebor. Summon a meeting between the seven dwarf families and demand that they stand by their oath.”

“The seven armies swore that oath to the one who wields the kings jewell - the Arkenstone. It is the only thing that will unite them, and that stone was stolen by Smaug.” Thorin said.

“What if I were to help you reclaim it?” Gandalf said. The wanderer puffed at his pipe,  a blaze of red embers flashed across his face, revealing an eyepatch before the embers faded and the black of his hood concealed his face once more.

He had heard enough. He knew that the old wizard and the dwarf were the right people to carry out his divine plan. He grabbed a napkin, and scribbled only three words; ‘Prepare for her.’

He stood up, passed the table and swiftly placed the note in the Wizard’s pocket before vanishing into the night, leaving behind nothing but two raven feathers.

---

PRESENT TIME

“How close is the orc pack?” Dwalin asked when Bilbo rushed around the corner of the cliff.

It had been a week since the Eagles had saved the company from the Pale Orc, but the pack soon caught their scent.

And Y/n’s condition had taken a drastic change for the worse - Gandalf inspected her wound and said that it was definitely infected with goblin venom. The wizard told her that she would be alright, yet she grew less strong and more sickly each day.

Y/n had a makeshift bandage made of a torn blanket around her burning waist and she used various members of the company to help support her (though she often found that it was Kili that offered to help most of the time).

“They are close, a couple of leagues maybe. But that is not the worst of it.” Bilbo doubled over, panting frantically.

“Did they see you? They saw you!” Said Gandalf, shoving Nori out of the way to get to the Hobbit.

“No, that’s not it,  but -”

“What did I tell you? Quiet as a mouse!” Gandalf said, and the dwarves began chattering amongst themselves.

Y/n watched through hazy eyes as the Hobbit tried to speak over them. Even she could tell in her dazed state that Bilbo was freaked out by something else.

“Excellent burglar material.” Gandalf continued, the dwarves still chatting in agreement.

“Will you listen? Will you just listen!?” Bilbo yelled, finally catching the attention of the others. “I am trying to tell you that there is something else out there!”

Y/n’s heart stopped. Something else other than those orcs? Could her week get any worse? The company fell dead silent and she felt Kili’s grip on her waist tighten.

“What form did it take?” Gandalf asked. “Was it like a bear?”

“Yes-” Bilbo stopped and frowned. “Yes, but bigger, much bigger.”

“You knew about this beast?” Bofur stepped forward, gripping his axe. “I say we double back.”

“And be run down by a pack of orcs? We can’t risk it and Y/n’s condition is getting worse!” Said Kili as Y/n leaned on him for support.

Kili was right - if they went back the orcs would catch them, and Gandalf needed to treat her wound as soon as possible.

“There is a house, not far from here.” Gandalf turned around. “Where we might take refuge.”

“Who’s house? Are they friend or foe?” Asked Thorin.

“Neither,” Gandalf said. “He will help us, or he will kill us.”

“What choice do we have?” Balin asked, just as a warg screeches echoed through the evening air.

“None,” Gandalf said.

“Oh, that is just wonderful,” Y/n muttered, shaking her dizzy head.

---

They had been on the run for the whole night, and by the time the sun broke over the horizon, Y/n thought she might pass out. Her whole body ached, her legs felt like there were boulders chained to them and worst of all, her abdomen felt like a red-hot poker was searing away her skin and melting her flesh.

“Keep going, the house isn’t far now!” Gandalf yelled from the front of the group as they charged through the forest. Grinding her teeth, Y/n willed herself to keep going, however much she wanted to just collapse onto the pine-needle covered ground.

The screeches of the orc pack got closer and closer until a deep roar rumbled through the trees. The company came to a brief halt, looking around. The howls from the Wargs had ceased and the gut-wrenching roaring of the new beast continued.

“This way! Quickly!” Yelled Gandalf, taking off once again. Y/n found herself stumbling over the moss-covered logs and rocks that lay on the forest floor. Kili had a firm grip on her waist as he led over the rough terrain, making sure she didn’t fall or pass out.

“I see the house!” Dwalin yelled once they had burst from the tree-line and into a lush field. Not too far away, Y/n could see a wooden cabin situated in a large garden surrounded by large stone walls that had a laddering ivy sprawling over the concrete.

“Run!” Gandalf yelled when a great black beast leapt from the trees, gaining on them with every stride.

Y/n’s heart began to hammer even faster as she whipped her head back around and pushed every ounce of energy she had to the forefront to pick up her speed. Y/n could even feel the vibrations of the bears’ heavy strides through the ground.

“Open the door!” Thorin yelled when the company began pilling up. Why aren’t they opening the door? Y/n thought, panicked, as the bear got closer.

“Quickly!” Gandalf yelled before Thorin shoved past and opened the latch on the thick brown door. The company flooded inside, Y/n, Kili and Gandalf the last to enter, when the bear sprung forward just as the doors were beginning to close.

Its massive head snapped and growled at them with great jaws, bearing teeth as large as Y/n’s forearm.

"Close it!" Dwalin yelled, ramming the door with his full body.

At last, the dwarves managed to shove the doors closed, much to the relief of Y/n. She doubled over in both pain and exhaustion with a groan. Kili gave her a worried glance before Ori spoke up.

“What was that thing?” Asked Ori, turning to the wizard.

“That is our host,” Gandalf said at last, and Y/n could almost hear the utter confusion and shock. “His name is Beorn and he is a Skin-Changer. Sometimes he’s a great black bear, other times he is a strong man. The bear is unpredictable, but the man can be reasoned with. And he is not overly fond of dwarves.”

Y/n heard Dori snort, and she watched as he pulled Ori away from the door.

“Come away from there! It is not natural, none of it. It is obvious, he is under some sort of dark spell!” Dori hissed, making Gandalf roll his eyes.

“Oh don’t be a fool, he is under no enchantment but his own," Gandalf said, taking off his pointy hat. “Now all of you go rest, I must tend to Y/n’s wound. We will be safe here tonight...I hope.”

---

Y/n winced as Gandalf smeared the last of the Athelas paste on her wound. It was worse than she has expected -  the veins around the injury looked like spidery black webs and it oozed a thick dark liquid.

“I have run out of Athelas paste, but that should stop the infection from spreading for now,” Gandalf said as Y/n sat up and buttoned up the last four buttons of her new tunic.

“Thanks, I feel a lot better than I was.” She said, but the pain was not entirely gone; the area burned but the sickly feeling in her stomach had faded and her mind was less foggy.

“Good,” Gandalf said. “On another subject, have you remembered anything that might aid me in understanding how you ended up in this world?” Gandalf asked.

“No, sorry Gandalf.” She said. And Y/n pursed her lips. Much to her guilt, she sometimes forgot that she wasn’t actually from there. That she had a real family and a real home, yet something deep inside of her didn’t really want to leave Middle-Earth.

“No matter,” Gandalf said, patting her on the pack. “Now go get some rest, we will be leaving early tomorrow morning.”

And with that, Y/n slipped out of the room and into the main part of the house. As she wandered around, she stuck her hand in her pocket, rolling the ring absentmindedly between her fingers.

She found the company sitting in little huddles in the corners of the room, chatting, smoking and eating. She saw Kili sitting in a far corner away from everyone else. She frowned when she saw him shooting glares at his brother, Fili.

Had they fallen out? Y/n found it hard to believe since they were practically tied at the hip.

“Hello, Kili.” She said, slumping down on the pile of straw, next to the dwarf. He looked up with a smile, his glowering face changing in an instant.

“Does it hurt?” He asked, peering at her exhausted face.

“Just a little.” Y/n yawned, stretching her aching muscles. Kili jokingly rolled his eyes. He thought it rather odd that she described an infected wound as ‘just a little painful.'

“You’re lucky. Not many people survive goblin bites, though I guess you are not a normal person.” Kili said, making Y/n cock an eyebrow.

“And what exactly do you mean by that?” She asked, watching a smirk grow on Kili’s lips.

“You were dropped into a world where you have never been before, then you gladly join a group of strange dwarves and when you are bitten by a goblin you describe it as ‘just a little painful!” He said with a laugh.

"Yeah, you are laughing now, but wait until I get my phone back and tweet that I have been to Middle-Earth. I’ll be famous.” Y/n muttered.

Then again, she might already be famous - as a missing person. She wondered if there were search parties out there for her at that moment in time.

“I do not know what any of that means and you just proved my point,” Kili said making Y/n laugh.

“So,” Kili said, leaning back. “Are you going to give me drawing lessons, as you promised?”

“Yeah, sure,” Y/n said, before picking up up her bag and pulling out her sketchpad and an old pencil that was buried under her belongings.

She passed the book to Kili and he flipped to an empty page with a grin. Y/n thought it was rather cute how he looked like a child on Christmas morning.

“So what should I draw? How do I draw? Is there a certain-”

“Woah, slow down,” Y/n laughed at his eagerness. “One question at a time.”

“Right sorry,” He smiled. “What should I draw?”

“That’s up to you. You could draw a landscape, an object, a person. Anything really.” Y/n said, watching his dark eyes squint in thought before they landed on Y/n.

“Can I draw you?” He asked.

“Yeah, if you want.” Y/n chuckled, feeling flattered. Kili grabbed the pencil awkwardly between his fingers before biting his lip.

“And how exactly do I draw?” He asked, staring at the paper like it was going to bite him.

“Well,” Y/n said. “You just start with basic shapes. If you are drawing a face, start by drawing a circle, before adding the other features.”

“Okay, I’ll give it a go!”

And so he began, dragging the pencil across the blank page, leaving grey lines in its wake. Every so often Kili would glance up to stare at Y/n’s face before resuming his art.

Y/n had to suppress a smile when she looked at his face; his eyebrows were drawn together and his tongue stuck out the corner of his mouth in concentration.

“Done!” He exclaimed, holding up the sketchpad with a puffed out chest and a toothy grin. Y/n’s eyes landed on what looked like an egg with two lopsided circle eyes and hair that seemed to be floating around its head. She felt slightly offended.

“It’s amazing!” Y/n lied with a smile and his grin widened even further.  It was his first time drawing after all and she didn’t want to hurt his feelings. Everyone had to start somewhere, right?

“You really think so!?” Kili beamed, jumping up. “I want to show Balin.” He said before bounding around the corner.

Y/n laughed and shook her head. Who would have thought that a hardened warrior like him would take such joy in drawing?

---

Night had fallen and a dark blanket lay over the lands. Most of the dwarves had fallen asleep, but not Kili.

For the last few hours, he had Y/n teach him different methods of drawing and he (to Y/n’s surprise) was getting rather good. His skills had improved so much that when he drew her, she no longer looked like an egg, but more like a hairless monkey.

“Done! Now it's your turn." He said, passing the sketchbook back to her.

"Okay, do you want me to draw you?" Y/n asked and the dwarf nodded.

"If you would like to," Kili said with a smirk.

Y/n grabbed her pencil and got to work, sprawling lines across the page and shading patches delicately. When she started sketching his hair, she noticed something rather odd.

"You don't have any braids," Y/n said, staring at his long, dark hair. Kili looked up at her in surprise. The rest of the dwarves had braids in their hair and beards, yet Kili was the only one without any.

"Did you really just notice?" Kili laughed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah, I never noticed before. It was just when I was about to draw your hair when I realised." Y/n said and an idea popped into her head. "Can I braid your hair?"

"What?" Kill said, looking up with wide eyes. She didn't want to offend him but she thought it might look nice for the sketch.

"You don't have to," Y/n said, but Kili shook his head.

"No, no, it's fine. Go ahead." He said, his cheeks becoming very hot and pink as Y/n reached over and began separating three locks of his hair.

His hair felt soft to the touch as she weaved the pieces into a delicate pattern, her lip hooked in her teeth as she furrowed her brow in concentration.

She was so close that his scent of pinewood and mud filled her nose. Y/n couldn't help but feel slightly nervous being that close to Kili, but she tried to push it down.

"Done!" Y/n said, pulling back to admire the small, intricate braid she had created.

"It looks good." Kili said, looking at his hair in the reflection of the water bucket. "I didn't know you could braid."

"My sister taught me," Y/n said, watching as a red-cheeked Kili began fidgeting with his fingers and opened his mouth to say something.

"Y/n, I want to tell you-"

"Would you two shut your traps? I'm trying to sleep!" Both Y/n and Kili snapped their heads to the left, to see Dwalin rolling over with a groan.

"Sorry," Y/n whispered but Dwalin had already begun to snore. Y/n turned back to Kili. "What did you want to tell me, Kili?"

"Nothing - it doesn't matter." Kili awkwardly laughed, before changing the subject.

---

Posted: Part 8 coming soon!

A/n: I hope you all celebrated the 22nd of September as it was Middle-Earth Day!

And again, sorry for any mistakes, it is once again almost 1am as I am writing this!

[omgsquee2001]

In Due Time; The Hobbit: Various x Modern! Reader

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Key:

[Y/N] = Your Name

[L/N] = Last Name

[H/C] = Hair Color

[H/L] = Hair Length

[E/C] = Eye Color

[Y/H] = Your Height

[S/C] = Skin Color

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Prologue

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I remember very vividly how I appeared in Middle-Earth. It was a Friday evening and I had just settled down with pizza and a movie when a bright white light blossomed in the middle of my chest, where my heart was. The light enveloped me and the next thing I knew, BAM! I was at the front doors of Erebor. I eventually met Thorin, who was in charge of looking after and protecting me. I was there when King Thror fell to Dragon Sickness. I was there when Smaug attacked Dale and plundered Erebor. I was there when the Elves left the Dwarfs and myself to fend for ourselves. I am [Y/N]. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now, here I was, 

//You can change the color of the hair to match your own if you would like.//

walking with Thorin Oakenshield,

 through the muddy streets of Bree, dressed in a red tunic, brown trousers, fur boots and a black cloak. A sword, given to me by Thror many years before, hung at my hip, thumping lightly against my leg as I walked. I had pulled part of my [H/L] [H/C] hair into a Dutch Braid, leaving the other half loose. 

Thorin turned his head slightly, making sure that no one was following them. Oh, I also forgot to mention that I had shrunk when I appeared in Middle-Earth. I was no longer [Y/H]. I was now the height of a Dwarf, a bit shorter than Thorin, reaching his chest. He opened the door, holding it open for me as we walked in. We chose to sit near the back of the Prancing Pony Inn. I sat next to Thorin, who had taken his cloak off. I had taken my cloak off as well. My beautiful [S/C] skin of my face was now shown for all to see. I cautiously scanned the room, looking at and assessing the people who were also staying at the Inn. Thorin leaned his head close to my ear, speaking quietly as to not draw attention to us.

“If anything should happen here, I don’t want you using your powers. I don’t want people to know who you are,” he said quietly. His low, baritone voice sent slight shivers down my spine. I looked at him and nodded my head. Thorin noticed the disappointment in my [E/C] eyes at hearing that I could not use my powers. I felt as if I could control my powers very well now compared to when I had first discovered I  even had powers and first used them. Thorin sighed tilted his head slightly. “It is for your own safety, *Ghivashel. I am certain that rumors have spread of your being here and your powers,” he said. His blue eyes bore into my own [E/C] orbs. He sighed and gently stroked my soft cheek. I sighed and lowered my gaze, finding the floor to be quite interesting at the moment. “Do you promise not to use your powers, [Y/N]?” Thorin asked. I sighed once again, then looked up and nodded. 

“Yes, Thorin, I promise,” I said. Thorin smiled lightly, pulling away. “On one condition,” I said. Thorin raised an eyebrow at my request. “Tell me what Gh-Ghiv-Ghivashel means, please.” I pleaded. Thorin chuckled at my poor pronunciation of the Dwarfish word. 

“You will learn, Ghivashel, in due time.” Thorin said, smiling. I pouted, biting back a smile. I still kept my promise not to use my  powers. In truth, I was slightly afraid to use my powers in public. The barmaid walked over with a plate of bread with cheese and a tankard of ale. She set it in front of Thorin. 

“Here you are.” She said. Thorin nodded in thanks. 

“Ah, thank you.” He said. The barmaid looked at me.

“I’ll be right over with yours, love,” She said. I nodded in thanks, smiling. A bar patron walked past the barmaid nearly knocking a bowl of soup, a plate of bread with cheese and a tankard of water from her hands. “Watch it!” She snapped. 

“Sorry, darling.” The patron apologized. She made her way over to mine and Thorin’s table and placed the mean down in front of me.

“Here you are, love.” She said. I nodded at her. 

“Thank you very much,” I said. The barmaid nodded, walking away. Thorin had already started eating. 

I tore a piece of the bread off and dunked it into, what seemed to be beef stew, before eating it. My stomach grumbled in thanks for the meal it received. As I took another bite, I could feel some not so kind eyes staring at me. I glanced at Thorin. “Thorin,” I whispered slightly nervous. Thorin stopped eating and nodded. 

“I feel them to.” He said quietly. We glanced around. I lightly turned my head and saw a man in the corner watching us. Thorin looked around and noticed another man on the opposite side also watching. They got up and started to walk over to us. I lowered my hand to lay atop his, gently squeezing it. Thorin set down his bread and squeezed my hand back. My breathing started picking up as the men got closer. With his free hand, Thorin got ready to draw his sword when suddenly a man in gray 

sat before us. 

“Mind if I join you?” The man asked. He stopped the barmaid as she walked past our table. “I’ll have soup and water please,” he said. The barmaid nodded and walked off. I slowly looked around, noticing that the two men stopped in their tracks and went back to their seats. I let out a shuttering breath of relief, letting go of Thorin’s hand. The man looked at us. 

“I should introduce myself. My name is Gandalf. Gandalf the Grey.” The man, now known as Gandalf, said. Thorin nodded lightly. 

“We know who you are.” Thorin responded. I nodded, confirming what Thorin said. Gandalf looked at me, narrowing his eyes slightly. 

“Tell me, my dear,” Gandalf said. I looked up at him. “You name wouldn’t happen to be [Y/N], by any chance, would it?” Gandalf asked. I looked over at Thorin, silently asking him if it was alright to share my name with the Wizard. Thorin nodded his head. I turned my gaze back to Gandalf and nodded. 

“Yes, my name is [Y/N].” I confirmed. Gandalf nodded, as if his suspicions had been confirmed. 

Gandalf then smiled and rubbed his hands together.

“Well, now, this is a fine chance. What brings Thorin Oakenshield to Bree,” Gandalf asked then looked at me. “With a Daughter of Man as his companion.” He said. I looked at the Wizard with light surprise. How did he know I was human? Because of my height, and the Dwarfish sword at my hip, most people would assume that I was a Dwarf, unless I told them different. I also lacked the facial hair that was common for most Dwarfish Women to have. ‘Well, he is a Wizard, [Y/N],’ I thought. ‘And Wizards tend to know everything before you do.’ Thorin sighed, bringing me out of my thoughts. He glanced up at Gandalf. 

“We received word that my Father had been seen wandering the wilds near Dunland,” Thorin said. “[Y/N] and I went looking, found no sign of him.” He said. Thorin sighed and looked down. I placed her hand upon his, gently squeezing it. I knew Thorin missed his Father greatly. So did I, actually. He had treated me like his own child while I was in Erebor. Gandalf sighed and looked at Thorin. 

“Thorin, it’s been a long time since anything but rumor was heard of Thrain.” He said. I looked at Gandalf, determination and surety shone in my eyes. 

“He still lives, we are sure of it.” I said. The barmaid interrupted, bringing Gandalf his soup and water. He nodded in thanks. Gandalf looked at me. 

“And what business, if you found him, would you have with Thrain, my dear [Y/N]?” Gandalf asked. I looked down slightly, sighing. 

“Thrain came to see you before he went missing. He mentioned me, did he not,” I asked, looking up at the Wizard. Gandalf nodded in confirmation. “Then you, being a Wizard and all, know that I am not from this world,” I said. Another nod. I sighed, lowering my gaze to meal that sat untouched in front of me. “I had a suspicion that Thrain knew how I got here,” I brought my gaze back up, looking him in the eyes. “But when I asked Thrain about it, he would not tell me,” I said. “I hoped that, if I found him and asked him about it again, Thrain would tell me.” I said. Both men avoided eye contact with me, as if they were hiding something from me. I glanced at them. My eyes widened in realization. “Thorin,” I said. Said Dwarf looked at me. “Y-you know, don’t you. You know what brought me here, don’t you.” I said. Thorin nodded slightly. 

“I have my suspicions.” He said. I looked at Gandalf now. 

“Gandalf,” his eyes met mine. “Do you know, for sure, what brought me to Middle-Earth?” I asked. Gandalf nodded. 

“Yes, my dear. I do know how you arrived in this world.” He said. My eyes widened. I gently grasped one of his hands with both of mine, desperation shining in my [E/C] orbs. 

“Can you tell me?” I asked, excitement in my voice. I desperately wanted to know how to get home. Gandalf’s eyes twinkled. He patted my hands gently with his free hand.

“You will know, my dear, in due time,” He said. I sighed in frustration, retracting her hands and placing them in my lap. Gandalf chuckled. “Now, to the true topic I wanted to discus with you both,” he said, causing Thorin and I to give him our attention. “When I met with Thrain, I urged him to march upon Erebor, to rally the seven armies of the dwarves. To destroy the dragon and take back the Lonely Mountain, and I would say the same to you both. Take back your homeland.”

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//So, here’s the Prologue. I hope you all like it. I wanted to let you all know who your different love interests are going to be for the story:

First, there’s Thorin,

Then there is the Oldest Brother, Fili,

Then there’s Kili,

There’s Bofur.

I feel like he doesn’t get enough love, so if you don’t like Bofur, well sorry Charlie.

There’s sweet Bilbo. 

And then there’s the handsome, ladies man, the Prince of the Woodland Realm himself, Legolas.

If you would like me to add anyone, let me know down in the comments please. Always remember that reblogs are much appreciated. Feel free to comment on any of my content.//

[legolasbadass]

Heart of Gold, Chapter 16

Characters: Thorin, Dis, Thrain, Dwalin, Balin, Original Characters

Relationship: Thorin x OC

Setting: Post Azanulbizar, Pre Quest of Erebor

Notes: Hi everyone! I hope you are all well and staying safe! These notes are becoming redundant, but I will still apologize for the long wait I have imposed on you (again)! I had a crazy finals season, and then I had barely any inspiration or motivation to finish/edit this chapter! I have spent the last week and a half editing, so I would really appreciate any feedback on this chapter. I also promise (I know, big word, but I really promise!) that you won't have to wait as long for the next chapter. Some exciting things are happening in the story, and I could not be more eager to share them with you! Without any further ado, here is the long-awaited 16th chapter. I hope you enjoy it! 💙

This is the 16th chapter to my Thorin Oakenshield fan fiction, Heart of Gold, which can be read in full on ao3. Go check it out there to read from the start! Please consider liking or reblogging if you enjoyed this chapter or if you are enjoying the story so far! 

Word Count: 6893

Thorin could not for the life of him concentrate on the council meeting. It felt as though they had been at it for hours. Glancing up at the clock, he saw that it was now four o'clock in the afternoon, only to realize he had no idea when the meeting had started. All he knew was that it was probably too long ago. 

Four o'clock. That meant Dania would be sitting with his mother and sister for tea time. Despite all his best intentions, he could not help but think of her at the most inappropriate times. 

Being the heir was his duty. 

But she was his heart. 

His One. 

Why did his father have to recount their whole eventless journey to Lord Yngvi? It was as though he was inciting Thorin's mind to wander; like he was inviting him to drift down deep, secluded dreams where he and Dania were together, and they faced neither enmity nor aversion. 

In this fanciful world, he held her proudly, boldly, and loved her frankly and openly. That was what she deserved. Nothing less. The image of her being his — wearing his clasp in her braid, his colours on her gown, and his hand on her arm — was driving him mad. That image almost made him stand up on his feet at that very moment and profess his undying love for her in front of all these council members — their opinions be damned. 

But he knew he could not. He must not because he knew what their reaction would be. He knew the frown that would cover their faces and the scandalized revulsion that would flicker in their eyes. And he knew their opinion did matter, regardless of how much he wished it did not.

Dania deserved nothing less than his undivided devotion and to be adored and respected like the jewel she was. That was why he could not forgo their support and condemn her to a life of shame and shunning because she was not the one their kin approved of. Even though he knew there was no one better for him than her, that there was no one better than her to stand by his side and support him through his life. He had to keep it inside. 

He could not stand the fact that she had to suffer because of their closed minds. The sight of her tear-stricken cheeks as she told him of the venture she was forced to undertake to keep their union secret haunted him. He despised all the people in this room because of it. 

But he had to keep it inside. Sulking, he pressed his fists into his thighs to stop himself from screaming in rage at the injustice of it all. 

A hand on his arm pulled him back to reality. Vili was looking at him; concern etched onto his face. Thorin nodded to let him know he was alright and forced himself to concentrate on the conversation unfolding before him. 

"With all due respect, My Lord, we are still recovering from Azanulbizar. At this time of the year especially, our supplies are lower than they have ever been, " one of the council members was saying. He was young, perhaps even younger than Thorin, but already he stood right next to Lord Ynvgi; a sign of the trust his lord had in him, a sign of his influence in this room. 

Most of the council members were young, yet already they occupied the most influential positions and already led their families. 

We are still recovering from Azanulbizar. 

How long would that battle haunt them? 

So many people — too many — had perished, had suffered, or had been forced to grow up too fast just as he had, many years ago, on the other side of the world when that wretched worm had attacked his homeland. 

"I agree with Master Agnar," one of the eldest members said as he stood up. "However, Lord Thrain, like his ancestors before him, is an ally to the Firebeards*." Thorin looked around at those words, assessing where people's loyalties lay. "He has chosen our Halls for his only daughter's wedding — a most joyous occasion — is it not our duty to lend him our hand?" 

Lord Ynvgi gave a slight nod, though whether this was a gesture of agreement or dissent, Thorin did not know. 

"Master Mundi is right," said a younger Dwarf whom Thorin recognized as Master Airi, the one who had warned them of the orcs' numbers before the battle. "Besides, a wedding would be a welcomed distraction from the hard winter we have suffered." 

Several side glances were shared in response. His words rang true, though perhaps they did not form the most persuasive argument. 

At the other end of the table, a tall Dwarrow stood and looked to Lord Yngvi.

"Yes, Lady Ragnhildr," Lord Yngvi nodded. 

"Perhaps a bargain may be struck, My Lords," she began in a silvery voice. "I believe it is safe to say that I am not the only one who would be honoured for the wedding to take place here in Lord Yngvi's Hall. We may even lend Lord Thrain a hand as he ventures further South and finds a place to settle permanently — "

"Lay Ragnhildr, I usually applaud your council, but this is preposterous. We do not run a charity," the Dwarf right next to Lord Ynvgi interjected. 

Thorin heard his father sigh as Lady Ragnhildr smiled scornfully. "Perhaps if you would let me finish speaking my mind, there would be no need to insult my intelligence and hurt your own in the process."

A few, including Vili, had to stifle their snorts. 

"As I was saying," she went on with a side glance to the one who had interrupted her, "Perhaps we may strike a deal. The wedding takes place here, and we offer help as you find a place to settle. In exchange, as soon as your forges are up and running, you must give us a third of the weapons produced within the year, and we have your word that if any orcs, or even Men, come to attack us, we can count on your support." 

She and Lord Yngvi were staring at each other as she spoke, and he was nodding in approval as she went. 

"This is not charity," she said, scanning the table until her eyes landed on Thrain. "Nor is this a favour. This is business. As many of my colleagues have pointed out: times are hard. We will only survive if we can count on one another." 

Thorin found himself nodding in approval. Of course, fulfilling such a deal would be a strain on them, but what other choice did they have? They needed their help. And his father, who was intent on Dis being married as soon as possible —  "for the good of the line of Durin," as he put it — would find even more cause to agree to this plan. 

Thorin had to admire Lady Ragnhildr's negotiation skills. He only had to place himself in her shoes to see that,  given the circumstances, this was the best offer she could make and that it was actually an advantage to both parties. 

Fortunately, Thrain agreed with his son's unspoken opinions. It only took one glance between them, and the king was nodding. "Very well, Lord Yngvi." 

"I am honoured to host your daughter's wedding, Lord Thrain," Lord Yngvi said formerly, but there was something in his tone that hinted at old friends coming together rather than two lords signing an agreement. "Especially since, long ago, I was very close to Lord Viljar, Lord Vili's father," he added for the benefit of the younger council members. "This wedding shall be a celebration of my friendship with him as well as my friendship with you, Lord Thrain.

"There is much planning to get through before that joyous day is upon us," he went on. "But I think this is progress enough for today. I, for one, would like a very large ale." As soon as he said so, the boy sitting next to him stood to fulfill his request. "This meeting is adjourned, for now."

Finally, Thorin thought with a quiet sigh. He was satisfied with how the negotiations had concluded, but all he wanted now was to rest. He still would not get that. There was to be a feast tonight, and then there would be more negotiations tomorrow, and then soon enough, they would be back on the road. 

"Are you alright, brother?"

Thorin turned to face Vili and froze. Images of warm Spring days filled with honeycakes and laughter flashed in his mind, juxtaposed with blood and screams. Brother. Frerin always called him that. Not Thorin. Brother. 

"Thorin?" 

"I am fine," Thorin said firmly, then, more gently, "I am fine. Thank you."

His father, along with Mimir, Dania's father, and Nar, was still conversing with Lord Yngvi, so Thorin made his way out of the council room. He was halfway down the hallway when he realized Vili was walking next to him. 

"So," Vili said tentatively. "How are you, truly?" 

"I told you: I am fine." 

"I am sorry, I did not mean to offend you by calling you brother, I just thought — "

"You did not offend me," Thorin said as he looked at him. "Really. You did not."

"Alright," Vili said with a tilt of his head. "Then, do you want to talk about it?" 

"About what?" Thorin sighed. 

"About what is making you so irritable — so . . . distracted," he said. 

Thorin frowned, his jaw set. "I am not — "

"Come now, Thorin," Vili chuckled. "I practically had to push you so that you'd listen in there. And your jaw was clenched so tight I was worried you would break your teeth."

How insolent, Thorin thought. He hadn't realized it was Vili's place to study him like he was some sick animal. He had half a mind to tell him off, but then his anger might be interpreted as a sign that there was some truth to Vili's observations. There was truth to it, Thorin did not deny that, but he would not admit it aloud either. 

"Is this about Dania?" 

Thorin could not hold back his outburst this time. 

"What does she have to do with any of this?" he demanded, looking down at him. 

His need to protect her — and their secret — mingled with the fear of being discovered, and what that would bring about fogged his mind. He could not let anyone take her away from him. He would not. 

"I — I do not know," Vili stammered. "I just thought — "

Looking around, Vili took a deep breath, then looked back to Thorin with softness and determination in his eyes. "Listen, Thorin, I spoke with Dis and from the things she said — I gathered there might be something between you two."

Thorin eyed him intently for a moment. "You mean Dis told you?" 

Vili sighed. "Yes, she told me," he admitted as he scratched his pale beard. At least he had the decency to sound embarrassed. 

Exasperation stretched Thorin's already overloaded mind. Leaning toward Vili to avoid behind overhead, he groaned, "you cannot tell anyone." He did not even wait for an answer before moving away, though he heard Vili trailing after him. 

***

Staring at the soaked leaves at the bottom of her cup, Dania sighed inwardly. The afternoon was passing away slowly, and with each minute, the respite it had promised was diluted like the taste of honey she chased in her tea. 

Dania was sick of tea. And most of all, she was sick of the idle chat. Dis didn't seem to mind too much. After all, she was being bombarded with questions about her upcoming wedding, which kept her mind occupied and her cheeks warm and red. Dania, on the other hand, felt out of place. 

Sitting on a luxurious, currant red sofa, Dania found herself more easily invested in her surroundings than in the conversation. After all, it went on as it usually did. Ester gossiped, Nal laughed, and Illiana scolded them when they went too far, though a smirk always tugged at her lips. Beside Dania, Lady Adis was silent, while Ester's mother, Lady Inger, and Lady Vigga, Lord Yngvi's wife, participated in the conversation enthusiastically. 

Lady Vigga was also quite the gossiper, though everything else about her was still a mystery. The many beads and jewels in her hair and beard marked her as a lady of high standing. She had a handsome face, though her thin lips and her wide-set eyes made her appear stern. The dark red of her dress did nothing to counter that impression. 

She obviously had expensive taste, if this room was anything to go by. A stone table stood between the sofa Dania and the queen sat on and the other on which Dis, Illiana, and Nal were sitting.  Ester, her mother and Lady Vigga occupied three of the four other chairs, made of some dark wood of which Dania should have remembered the name, and upholstered in faded golden damask. Covering the stone floor was a thick rug, its colours similar to those on the tapestries on the walls. One depicted a large figure with a long beard adorned with dozens of intricate, coloured beads. Dania recognized him as Mahal, their maker. In front of him were seven Dwarves looking up, cowering before him as he raised his hammer.* 

Lady Yngvi had offered this sitting room, along with its adjacent chambers, to Lady Adis and Lord Thrain as long as they remained in his Hall. Lord Thrain, however, had insisted on them remaining in their encampment just outside the gates. Whether this was because of pride or simply because he did not wish to abuse their hospitality, Dania was not sure, but she was grateful for it. 

When they had first entered the sitting room, Lady Vigga warmly welcomed them, but her eyes soon halted on Dania. 

"You must be Dania," Lady Vigga had said with a wry smile. "I have heard a lot about you."

Dania had no idea how to respond to such a greeting. Of course, she was used to people giving her odd looks and whispering behind her back, but that did not make it pleasant. And while she was used to it, it was clear that Lady Adis was not, and somehow she seemed to have taken personally the looks Dania had received. 

"Yes, Dania is quite the accomplished young lady," Lady Adis had responded in the same tone as she placed an arm around Dania's shoulders. 

Lady Adis and Lady Vigga had glared at one another for a moment as the hand on Dania's shoulder tightened its grip. It was a protective gesture, Dania had realized with embarrassment.

Lady Adis had been quiet since then, and Dania felt terribly guilty. Always, her presence seemed to be asking people to pick a side, as it had now. Dania hated it. Yet, at the same time, she could hardly believe Lady Adis had taken her defence. Did she feel obligated to do so? Or did she actually care? Dania knew her enough to know that the answer probably resided in the latter, but she still could not believe someone would go so far as to ruin their afternoon to defend her. Once again, she was immeasurably indebted to Lady Adis, but even more than this, she was profoundly touched.

As though sensing her inner turmoil, Lady Adis squeezed Dania's hand, a gesture that made her feel like a child, but not in a bad way. It told her that it was alright for her to be upset, that she was not weak for feeling so, and that she was allowed to seek comfort — comfort which Lady Adis wanted to give her. 

Promise me that you will tell me if you are feeling scared or lonely ever again. I am here for you, she had said the night the soldiers had returned from Azanulbizar. 

Her touch was a reminder of that conversation they'd had, and Dania was so grateful for it.  

It was the mention of Thorin's name that brought Dania's attention back to the Dwarrows before her. 

"I almost did not recognize him when I saw him yesterday," Lady Vigga said. "He has grown into a very fine young Dwarf. And he looks so much like you, Lady Adis."

"Yes, he does," Lady Adis replied with a small smile. 

"I imagine it must be odd for him to see his younger sister married before him," Lady Vigga said. 

So they had come to it that quickly. Ester shifted in her seat at those words; that alone was enough to provoke the monster inside Dania. 

"Not at all," Lady Adis replied. "I see no reason to rush him into an unwanted marriage. When he finds the right person, he will be ready." 

From the corner of her eye, Dania saw Dis glance at her quickly. Dania left her face a blank canvas, yet she could feel moisture forming in her hands, and the ever-present ache she'd fought so hard to bury bloomed again in her stomach. 

Whatever Lady Adis said, Lord Thrain did appear to be in a hurry to marry his daughter. Dis, like Dania, was only forty-five years old, and that thought did nothing to ease Dania's worries. Of course, they could not force Thorin to marry, but they could very well place him in a position where he had little choice but to consent to it. Dania hoped it would not come to this because she would have no right to get in the way if it did. 

She would not let him sacrifice everything for her. 

"Who said anything about 'unwanted'?" Lady Inger said with a chuckle, sounding as though she was attempting to lighten the mood, yet her eyes spoke a different language entirely. She wanted something. "So many young Dwarrows must have their eyes set on him."

Dania hated the way they talked about Thorin. She hated how they talked about him as though he was a piece of meat; a pawn in their grand game of chess. 

"I do not think my brother would be overjoyed to learn you were using his personal life as tea time entertainment," Dis said dispassionately. Dania wanted to kiss her in thanks for voicing her thoughts.

"Oh, my dear," Lady Vigga said with a laugh, "this has nothing to do with his personal life."

"You are talking about his marriage prospects — that has everything to do with his personal life!" Dis retorted. 

"Not if you are the heir to the throne of Erebor," Lady Vigga said. "Whomever he marries will be a queen one day. This is politics; not love."

"Perhaps these two concepts are not mutually exclusive," Illiana said. "Dis and Vili's upcoming marriage is a political one, but they do love each other." 

Smiling softly, Dania and Illiana exchanged a glance. Dis' cheeks had turned a bright red. 

"If the prince has his sister's sense then, yes; he will learn to love the one who will make the right queen," Lady Vigga said with a wave of her hand as though they were discussing whether one should wear red or blue to a feast. 

"Ah, and the prince is so devoted to his duties. He will make the right choice," Lady Inger said as she shared a look with her daughter. The monster inside Dania coiled its tail and roared. 

Nevertheless, Dania could not help but notice that Lady Adis was silent. Everything — or, almost everything — Laddy Vigga had said was true, and yet the queen's silence appeared to Dania as a small beacon of hope. Perhaps it was foolish. It probably was. Yet Dania clung to it like it was a ray of sun, and she was a flower that had bloomed too early in the Spring and found itself in a dark and barren world. 

"It is getting late," Lady Adis said as she rose from her seat, "and we must get ready for the feast tonight."

"Yes, and what an event that will be," Lady Vigga replied with a too-wide smile. "I look forward to seeing you there." 

Lady Adis nodded, then turned to Dania. "Are you coming, dear?" 

Dania smiled shyly at the term of endearment and stood. She gave a quick curtsy to Lady Vigga then gladly followed Lady Adis and Dis out of the sitting room. A long sigh escaped her lips when the door closed behind her. 

"Yes, I quite agree with that sentiment," Lady Adis said in response. 

Dania blushed, having hoped her most improper display of irritation would go unnoticed, but the queen did not seem to mind. 

"I hope you girls will excuse my behaviour," Lady Adis said as they walked down the curved hallway. "It is not like me to lose my temper in this way. But, then again, I have always despised Lady Vigga, and she was particularly bothersome today."

"You mean to say she was an absolute wretch," Dis said with a grimace, causing Dania to snicker. 

"Dis!" Lady Adis hissed in reproach, but there was an amused gleam in her eyes. Then a dry cough escaped her lips, causing Dis and Dania to stare at her in concern. "I'm alright — the air was just — quite stuffy in there." When her breathing recovered, she went on, "Dania, I do hope you will not let that viper's words get to you."

"It's alright," Dania said with a shrug. "I'm used to it."

"That does not mean you should accept it," Lady Adis replied.

They had made it back to the crowded entrance hall. Beyond the large stone gate, the sun was beginning to set so that the whole room basked in its warmth. 

"Vili!" Dis suddenly called out and walked ahead to where her betrothed had appeared. He smiled widely when he saw her, and the two exchanged a warm embrace, without a care for the stares they were attracting from the crowd of people around them.

"Listen to me carefully, Dania," Lady Adis' voice called her attention away from the couple. "You are a wonderful girl; smart, brave, and above all, you have a kindness that can warm even the coldest of hearts. Many people in this world are close-minded and will seek to tear you down because they refuse to challenge their beliefs. You must not let their words reach your heart."

Dania stared at her with wide eyes, silent as she let the motherly care in Lady Adis' eyes wash over her, feeding her the courage to speak. 

"My Lady," she said hesitantly. "What is it that they say?" Lady Adis frowned. Taking this as a sign of misunderstanding, Dania went on. "Lady Vigga said she had heard a lot about me. . . ."

Closing her eyes for an instant, Lady Adis took a deep breath. "Some — like Lady Vigga — believe that you are not one of us; that you are — "

"An outlander," Dania said flatly, looking down at the ground. She only looked up when she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. 

"We are all outlanders in this part of the world," Lady Adis said. "And you are one of us. Never let anyone tell you otherwise. Besides, in what world is it acceptable to scorn someone based on where they come from — something that is out of your control?"

Dania nodded slowly. Lady Adis' words seemed contradictory to her. She was one of them, but she could not be proud of the blood that flowed through her. The blood of their enemies. 

As though she heard these thoughts, Lady Adis' grip on her shoulder tightened. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, my dear. You must know that we cannot judge an entire race based on the actions of a single individual. Whatever words you might have heard thrown around behind your back, know that your mother — she did not bewitch your father or do anything ridiculous of the sort; they loved each other, and you carry their love within you every day.

"Lady Vigga was wrong about many things, but about this in particular: not everything is about politics; and in times such as these where grief has its claws on us all, it is more important than ever to cling to love." 

Tears stung Dania's eyes, and she knew Lady Adis would have understood — perhaps even more than she did herself — but they were in a crowded space; the last thing Dania wanted was to give these people more cause to stare at her. 

"Are you alright, Dania?" spoke the deep voice she knew so well and loved dearly. 

She curtsied before nodding, but he could read her eyes better than anyone. Concern marked his features as his mother spoke, but neither of them was really listening. All Dania could think of was the conspiring looks Ester and Lady Inger had shared earlier. Don't let them take you from me, she begged him wordlessly. 

"Thorin, love, are you listening to me?" Lady Adis said, causing both Dania and Thorin to blush. 

"Sorry, amad, I have a lot on my mind," Thorin said as he tore his gaze away from Dania. "What did you say?" 

Lady Adis stared at him for a moment before speaking. "I asked you if all was well? I have not seen your father anywhere." 

"Yes, all is well. There are still many things to discuss, but, so far, we have struck a good deal with Lord Yngvi. Father is still with Nar and Master Mimir; I imagine they were finalizing some arrangements with Lord Yngvi." 

Dis and Vili reappeared at that moment. Dania frowned as Dis looked at her brother for a moment, then at her, a guilty expression on her face.

"Are you coming to the feast tonight, Dania?" Thorin asked her. She could not read his mind, but it seemed to her as though he was deliberately avoiding his sister's eyes. 

"Yes, I am, Lord Thorin," she replied. 

"Speaking of which," Dis interjected, "we should go and get ready, don't you think?" she asked her. 

"Yes, I suppose," Dania said hesitantly. She barely had time to curtsy to Thorin and the queen and give Vili a small smile before Dis dragged her away from the crowd. 

They scurried along the path just outside the gates, passed by the guards, and cut across the encampment until they entered their tent. 

"Mahal, what's your hurry?" Dania said breathlessly as Dis started pacing in the small space between the two makeshift beds. 

"Oh, Dania I'm sorry — so sorry — I didn't think — I thought it would not matter — but of course it does; you told me it was a secret — "

The world froze around Dania. "What?" 

"Thorin already chastised me for it so," — she waved her hands in the air in defence — "there's no need to do it again. It is only that — well, we are going to be married, I should not keep secrets from him. But then Thorin went on and on about how it was not my secret but yours and — "

"You told Vili," Dania said with a relieved sigh. 

"Yes and — "

"Well, start with that next time! You had me worried!"

It was Dis' turn to freeze. "You mean — you mean you are not mad?" 

Dania did not know what she was feeling. How had Vili reacted? He certainly had not taken the first opportunity to divulge the secret to King Thrain — and she doubted he ever would — yet instead of being relieved — if not outright happy — that someone else knew of their love for each other and was not repulsed by it, Dania felt even more dejected. 

Judging by the bits and pieces of information she had gathered, Thorin did not seem overjoyed that Vili knew their secret. She knew how important it was for them to take their time before they could try and convince their kin of the viability of their union and the strength of their bond, but this was Vili, not the whole council chamber. Yet letting even one person know, someone they knew well, and that would soon be part of his family, appeared to Thorin as one stroke too many on the battered barrier that protected their shared heart.  That only reminded Dania of how little they could trust anyone with their secret, and by extension, just how fanciful was the idea of their parents blessing their union.

But Dania was not mad. Despite her befuddled thoughts, despite how much she wanted to scream at Mahal for placing the other half of her soul so close to her yet so beyond her reach, that foolish and naive part of her mind was glad that Vili knew. He was her friend, and he would soon be her best friend's husband. It felt . . . right for him to know. 

Shaking her head, Dania frowned. "No it's — it's Vili. I trust him. You trust him." 

"Thank Mahal," Dis exclaimed, relief flooding her every word. Dania wished she could feel the same relief. 

Dania let herself fall onto her makeshift bed. They were silent for a while before Dis sat down beside her, their knees touching, and she gently grabbed her hand. 

"Amad was right, Dania," she said. "Don't listen to what Lady Vigga says." 

Bitting her lips as a cascade of emotions climbed up her throat, Dania shrugged. "But Dis — she was right. Whoever Thorin marries one day, she'll be a queen — "

"You mean you will be — "

"Dis — " Dania said breathlessly, shaking her head. She opened her mouth to speak but then resigned herself to the fact that she knew not how to translate her feelings into words. "I don't want to talk about this for now, alright? Let's just get ready for the feast."

***

The dining room was even more imposing than the sitting room they had visited earlier. Columns and complex geometric patterns were carved directly into the stone walls and had been polished so skilfully that they shone like marble. Most remarkable were the blue streaks of colour that gave these mountains their name gleaming in the candlelight, rippling through the stones like the waves Dania had once admired on the Long Lake.

Dozens of early Spring flowers and candles decorated the long stone table; an effort made to make the guests feel welcomed, but all it did was make them feel slightly out of place. Dania knew this was not just her own impression. Dis had not let go of her arm since they had walked inside, except to let Dania curtsy.

When the doors opened to reveal Lady Vigga, holding onto Lord Yngvi's arm, all Dania wanted to do was shrink up and disappear, but she was already at the back of the room, and no one paid her any mind. Lady Vigga looked even more imposing than she had a few hours before. She wore purple this time, and the cuffs and neckline of her gown were adorned with golden embroidery that matched the ornamental belt at her waist, attached with a large clasp bearing the sigil of the Firebeards.

Despite having had the chance to discard her travel-worn dress and don her only other gown, which Lady Adis had a seamstress restore to a suitable state, the other Dwarrows' fine attire intimidated Dania. She should have known better than to feel this way. With everything that had befallen them in the past year, fabrics and accoutrements should have been the least of her worries, but they became one of the many things that reminded her that she simply did not belong to this life. Her gown was a dull ash grey where the Dwarrows around her wore bright fabrics, embroidered and bejewelled, and her braids were plain compared to the precious beads that adorned their hair and beards. Even Dis was not so richly dressed, for they could not afford it, but then again, the princess did not require such embellishments to appear more elegant and regal than all the people in this room. Something in her countenance spoke more about her status than any jewel ever could.  

"There you are!" 

Dania and Dis turned around to see Ester, Nal, and Illiana walking towards them. They all wore their prettiest gowns, but only Ester looked like she belonged with the Firebeard ladies. Dania wondered how Ester could wear such expensive fabrics and so many jewels and not feel guilty when most of them had barely had anything to eat during their journey from Dunland. 

"Oh, Dis, you look beautiful!" Ester said. Then, without giving anyone else the chance to speak, she asked, "is your brother here?" 

Dis' hold on Dania's arm tightened. "Er — well, if he is not, he should be here any minute," the princess said. 

"Ester has been talking about him our whole way here," Nal said teasingly. "I do not think I could stand another minute of it!" Me neither, Dania thought. 

"Look, there's Dwalin!" Dis said in an attempt to change the topic. Something flickered in Ester's eyes, but she looked away, perhaps to appear uninterested or perhaps because she truly was indifferent to the warrior's presence. Dania was having more and more trouble understanding her motives. But then she remembered the look in Lady Inger's eyes, and she realized that it was possible that a union with Thorin was not something Ester wanted but that her parents wanted for her. Dania did not know which of these two scenarios bothered her more. 

Illiana was talking about Lady Vigga's offer to give them a tour of the Hall the next day when Dania's attention was stolen by a group of people entering the room, or rather, by one Dwarf in particular. Thorin was standing next to his father and mother, along with Balin, Nar, and Mimir, looking as handsome as ever. His hair appeared to have been freshly washed and braided, and he was dressed in the deep blue tunic he usually wore to such occasions. The colours were more faded than Dania remembered, but nothing could affect the majesty of his presence. 

As she slowly made her way toward her father, Thorin's eyes met her own, conjuring a deep blush from her cheeks. When she was finally close enough to the group, she curtsied, then grabbed the arm her father was extending toward her, but all she could think of was escaping this room to be alone with Thorin and feel his soft lips scorching her skin. As though he could hear her most improper thoughts, the corner of his lips curled up in a smile. That only made the heat inside Dania grow. Damn that Dwarf!

She was glad when they finally took their seats, if only because it might be easier for her to control herself while they sat at different tables. Mimir led her to a table near the main one where the king and his family were sitting with Lord Ygnvi and his wife, so Dania could still see Thorin quite clearly, but she forced herself not to look, or at least, not look as often as she wished to. Her father sat on her right and immediately began conversing with one of Lord Yngvi's advisors while she turned to another young Dwarf who had just pulled up her chair. 

"Oh, thank you," Dania said, startled by his kindness. 

"Not at all," he said with a warm smile before sitting down. "My name is Airi." 

Dania bowed her head in reverence. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Master Airi. I am Dania."

"Airi will do; not Master Airi," he said with a chuckle. "And the pleasure is all mine, Lady Dania."

It was Dania's turn to chuckle. "I am no Lady."

"Really? Well, you have the countenance of one," Airi replied.

Blushing, Dania looked away, only to find Thorin staring at her through the many people separating them. He looked at her questioningly, but she could do nothing but give a short, almost imperceptible nod and tear her gaze away from him. 

Dania had not thought she could be more confounded by her surroundings until the food was served. There was chicken, roast beef, and sausages, too many kinds of cheese to choose from, freshly baked bread, roasted potatoes, and enough wine to drown in. She had not seen this much food in years. 

"Have you been enjoying your stay in the Blue Mountains so far?" Airi asked her as she delved into the dishes. One taste of the potatoes was enough to convince her to fill her entire plate with them. 

Dania thought of her afternoon with Lady Vigga, but the delicious taste of the wine made her nod in response. "Yes, it is lovely here."

"Have you had a chance to take a tour of the Hall?" Airi asked. 

"No yet, I am afraid," Dania said. 

"It would be my honour to accompany you around the place."

"I would be honoured, whenever that may be," Dania replied as she took another mouthful of sausages. 

"Well, there should be plenty of time for that, given that you will be staying here for a while, I gather," Airi said. "I am certain there are many things that would interest you. The ballroom for one — "

"Is there a library?" Dania asked before she could stop and think twice about interrupting him. She needed to look for other plants to help with her . . . problem, and a library was the place she would find information.

"Yes, of course there is. I could show you, if you would like," he said with a smile. 

"I would like that very much," Dania replied in the same tone. 

"What would you like?" Dania's father asked as he leaned in toward her. 

"I was just telling your daughter that I would be more than happy to accompany her to the library, Master Mimir," Airi explained. 

"You know my father?" Dania asked. 

"I was at the council meeting today," Airi said, nodding. 

Dania turned to her father. "Yes, about that — How did it go?" 

"Quite well, I would say, given the king's fixed ambition." He spoke using courtly equivocations to avoid being misunderstood by overeager ears, but Dania knew he was talking of Lord Thrain's hurry to marry Dis to Vili. "Besides, the important thing is that Lord Ygnvi will lend us a hand when we are ready to make our way further South along the mountains. And he has extended his hospitality so that those who are not fit to travel may stay behind in the meantime."

Dania knew that "those not fit to travel" probably included Dwarrows, meaning she would have to stay behind while Thorin left with his father's chosen companions, for Mahal knows how long. The thought left a bittersweet taste in her mouth. 

"You will have plenty of things to do while we are gone," Mimir said as he noted the slight frown on her face. "There is also much to look forward to before that moment is upon us. Do not fret, gehyith."

Dania gave her father a small smile to ease his worries, but she stopped listening to what her table companions were saying. Glancing up toward Thorin, she saw that he was now conversing with Ester and a Dwarf Dania recognized as her father. They were standing next to the seat Thorin had just vacated to greet them, and she was smiling and laughing at every little thing he said. Somehow, Ester looked even prettier than she usually did. Grinding her teeth, Dania tried to look away, but it was as though an invisible hand was holding her head in place, forcing her to watch as her heart was slowly being ripped away from her. Don't let them take you from me. 

When the desserts were served, she regained some of her spirits — that was the power of a perfect trifle — but her mind was still preoccupied with Thorin and the dismay the thought of their separation was causing her. Mimir noticed his daughter's change of mood, and as soon as the first opportunity presented itself, he excused them and led her toward the exit. Dania was both thankful for and annoyed by this gesture, for now, she would not even be able to steal a glance at Thorin, who would undoubtedly be stuck at the feast for at least another hour. 

Before stepping out of the room, Dania daringly glanced back to the main table, and she noticed Thorin staring back at her, evidently not listening to a word Ester was saying. Even from this distance, she recognized the fiery look he was giving her, full of promises for their next secret meeting. Perhaps her father was right; she did have much to look forward to. 

[thepartingglassofthorin]

Of Death

His breath was gone, his heart had stilled; he was dead. Thorin Oakenshield, King of Durin's folk, Reclaimer of Erebor, was dead. He wished it wasn't so, there was so much he still wished to do, even more he wished to do over. Although he was dead, he felt a tear trickle into his beard, he could hear something in the distance, it sounded like yelling. The voice became louder as it came closer to his body, Thorin recognized it instantly, it was his Brother in Arms, and the tone in his voice said everything. Dwalin and the others were there, witnessing the last of Durin's line demise. Thorin's sobs joined the others as they cried for their friend, brother and King.

Thorin waded through the darkness, unconsciously plowing towards a tiny spec in the distance. He had to move, to be rid of the darkness that surrounded him. Voices too, surrounded the warrior, some kind, others harsh, all filling his thoughts and giving him the sense of no escape. Escape, what a wonderful thought! He would do just about anything to be rid of the dark void he wandered through and the voices that taunted him. "Look at him," a gruff male voice said, almost sneering. "The great Khuzdul King, running from his fears." "Give him a rest," a kind female voice quipped, reprimanding the first. "It can't be easy to be murdered." The first snorted and moved on, while the second made a sympathetic mumble before moving away. More voices came and went, more taunting then the first, and less sympathetic then the second.  The spec in the distance took form as an open doorway, the other side radiating with a feeling of home and comfort. Ease settled into Thorin's heart as he felt the light touch he face, wading though the dark became easier and the voices faded. He reached for the white void, but something nagged at him. He would be reunited with his fallen family and friends, and await the arrival of those still living. He was sure Fili and Kili were waiting for him to enter and enjoy the afterlife with him, and he couldn't wait to see them, full of their childish laughter that they lacked on the quest.  Despite all of the things that awaited him in the Halls, he still hesitated. "What is it child," a voice asked, gruff but kind and clear, more defined then the other voices. Thorin turned towards the voice and saw an older looking man. He held ancient knowledge in his eyes that burned with fire. His beard was long and grey, as was the hair on his head, both braided spectacularly. His hands were rough with worked age, he had obviously held a smithy's hammer most of his life, if not all of his life. "Ye do not wish to enter me Halls," he asked, clasping his hands under his round belly. Thorin felt his face flush as he realized who he was facing. "Is there somethin' that troubles ye?" "No, I wish to enter your Halls, My Lord," Thorin said quickly, lowering his gaze to Aule's feet. Instead of boots, the tops of his feet were covered in a thick fur, rather like a hobbit's. "Then why wait," he said, gesturing to the doorway. "Yer afterlife is waiting, and yer nephews are eager to meet again." Thorin winced as he was reminded that they were dead, he lowered his gaze further to his own feet. It had been a family joke that Thorin would outlive the two because of an adventure they would traipse after. A bitter taste was left on his tongue as he was again reminded he brought them on their death bound adventure. Thorin felt Aule's heavy hand grasp his shoulder, a firm but gentle touch that gave reassurance, a smile on the Valar's aged face as Thorin gazed up at him. "Yer not th' first ta stop at me door because of regret," he informed Thorin, rubbing his thumb against his shoulder. He felt relieved that he wouldn't need to explain what feeling dwelt in his heart, it wasn't something a dwarf normally did. Auel chuckled, clapping Thorin's shoulder, slightly worrying the Dead King. "I made ye out o' stone fer a reason lad," he chortled as he lead Thorin towards the beconing doorway. "But in there, ye need not be made o' stone, ye don't need ta weather any storms in there," he explained as he walked through. Auel's grasp slipped from Thorin's shoulder to his hands, Thorin felt like a pebble again, being lead along by his father. Thorin's heart panged again, realizing that his father may be in there. But even as Auel stepped through, Thorin hesitated again. Auel stopped, still gripping Thorin's hand, a fatherly look of worry on his face. "What is it lad?" He asked, stepping back into the dark. "Is there a reason ye shouldn't enter-" "No!" Thorin shouted, snapping out of his thoughts. His voice echoed in the dark, stirring up the restless spirits that lingered there. "No, I feel qualified, but...." Thorin paused, trying to find his words. Auel watched him, no longer being able to read his thoughts as he had before. Or, it seemed that way to Thorin. "Isn't there another way," he asked, stepping away from the door, pulling his hand from Auel's. "A way where we all live- I don't even care if I die," Thorin added when Auel gave him a queer look. "Fili and Kili are practically children- And Dis! Ohh, Dis... Please, don't make her loose her lads," Thorin begged, tears falling off his beard and landing near his feet. Auel stated at Thorin with his queer look, the kind look had vanished as Thorin had made his plea. Thorin waited patiently for his answer, his heart plummeting as Auel stifled a snort. As his snort became guffawing, Thorin knew it was impossible, he felt his soul crush. "Oh lad, can't ye see where ye are," Auel asked, wiping a joyous tear from his eye. Thorin frowned as the darkness disappeared, and the feeling of a prison left. Thorin and Auel were now standing on a green hill, with flowers of every color blooming around them. In the distance, he saw hobbits sitting, laughing, being hobbits, while dwarves made themselves merry nearby, but the most unusual thing was that they were mingling, hobbits taking drink of the dwarves strong ale, and the dwarves learning how to garden with the smaller hobbits. Three, no four heads, Thorin recognized in the hobbit's group, five! Fili had dirt in his hair, making it harder to recognize, while he had though Kii was a lady hobbit with that flower crown in his hair, and the one he was struggling to make in his hands. Vili, their father, was sampling the hobbit cuisine, starting with the greens he was eating as if they were poisoned, now wolfing them down, finding they were actually tasty! Thrain was over under a tree with a little table, teaching a few of the hobbits about metal weaving. One hobbit yelped as a piece of coal split in two, showering Thrain's leather apron in sparks, but it didn't effect the old king. The hobbit's laughed at the one, Thrain chuckled a small bit before resuming the class, chiding the hobbits for laughing. Fundin, who was playing checkers with an elderly hobbit couple, while smoking a pipe, waved with a happy smile. Thorin waved, hesitantly, back, then turned with a questioning look at Auel. The King of the Halls smiled, his fiery eyes on the brink of tears. "Look through lad," he said, stepping away from the open door, sniffing back the emotions to keep them at bay. "I don't understand," Thorin said, folding his arms, still quite confused. "I thought that was the door that lead-" "To th' Halls? Nay lad, th' second ye hit th' light, ye were in th' Halls. Come, look through th' door! See what lay beyond!" Thorin stepped forward, leaning on one side of the doorway. He was still confused, but the gentle peace that settled over him pushed those to the back of his mind.

The white dissolved into an aerial view of Bree. The human settlement's streets were packed, even as it rained. Although it rained, Thorin could smell the food items from the market vendors, an apple crisp becoming quite distinguished through the many smells. The view scanned the streets as if it were from a bird's eye, watching the various people waiting in vending lines. The view finally settled on a shorter person, one with a familiar blue cloak and silver tassel. "This is a one time chance lad," Auel said in a hushed voice, Thorin had first thought he was speaking to himself. The dead king balked for a moment, realizing what the Valar meant. Joy flooded through him for that same moment, only to be squashed as another thought bloomed. He cast a worrying glance at his dead friends and family. "What of them?"  Auel followed his gaze and grumbled, he hadn't really wanted to dwell on the matter much, seeing as he was breaking nearly every rule in his book.  He knew exactly who Thorin meant too, doing this probably looked like a death sentence to them. "I can not explain th’ details lad," Auel explained quickly. "Ye must trust me that they'll survive this time, it's up to ye whether ye will er not. Their souls will return with ye, but unlike ye, they won't remember a thing." Auel glanced worriedly at the doorway, then back at Thorin. "I need yer answer now, yes or no?!"

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@agirlunderarock @cassiabaggins @legolaslovely

[avaria-revallier]

Chapter 2: Thirteen dwarves and a wizard

“Very helpful, master dwarf.” Gandalf leans forward and looks down on the unconscious hobbit lass. A bit uncomfortable the dwarves gather around Bella. Dwalin is the first one to take action. He picks her gently up and carries her into the living room. Nori places a cup of tee on the table next to her and quietly leaves to sit with the others.

Thorin looks up to Gandalf as they all gathered around the empty table.

“How could you tell her about us?” Thorin is angry, furious even. So why does he keep his voice down to not disturb their resting host. He had to agree with Bofur. The small lass, fierce as she reacted, was kinda cute. Not that he would ever admit such a thing.

“Well, I have to admit, she acted quite strange today.” The wizard brushes his beard with one hand. “But I didn’t tell Belladonna that you all would come, nor did I mention your names.” A ring of smoke floats through the room, turning into a butterfly before vanishing.

“How was the meeting in Erid Luin? Did they all come?” Balin shifts the attention from the unconscious lass in the living room to the main topic, the reason of their gathering.

“Aye. They all came. Envoys from all seven kingdoms.”

Whispered conversations fill the heavy silence.

“What did the dwarves from the iron hills say? Is Daín with us?” Dwalin asks in a low growl.

All dwarves watch Thorin, hopeful, curious and tense. Their leader looks up from his plate, which is filled with all kinds of food. Bella saved quite a lot for him. She knew how much a dwarf could eat, let alone thirteen. Thorin takes another swig of the beer.

“They will not come.” A disappointed murmur fitting their defeated looks goes through the company. “They say this quest is ours and ours alone.”

Thorin takes up is fork again and continues eating. He was grateful for the food and the roof over their heads. Even so his mind was set on not liking whatever fourteens member Gandalf had in mind for them. It must have been a poor joke of the wizard to even consider this gentle and kind type of creature. Actually he had a lot of time to make his mind up on the way to Bag End. He lost his way, twice. But still he had time to observe the folk living around here. Nobody carried swords or axes, the knives were only used to prepare food and the halfling themselves seemed not really like fighters nor like burglars. They are even smaller than dwarves, corpulent and always, always friendly and happy.

Well, most of them. The lass -their host- seems to be a bit fierce. She even remembered him of Dís while yelling at him. Until she fainted that is.

His thoughts were interrupted when Gandalf stood up.

“Far to the east, over ridges and rivers, beyond woodlands and. Lies a single solitary peak.” As he speaks he unfolds an old peace of parchment. A map.

Ori appears besides him, holding a candle for a little bit more light.

The map showed the lonely mountain, a red dragon above it. Dale and Escaroth as well as the Woodland realm.

“The front gate is sealed. There is no way in.” Balin says with a sight. “And even if it wasn’t sealed. We only number thirteen. Even with an army from the iron hills this journey would be hard.”

Gandalf reaches into one of the many pockets in his grey coat. A key shows up in his hand. Dwarven made.

He points towards a mark on the side of the mountain.

“These runes speak about a hidden passage to the lower halls. This map and key were handed to me by your father, Thrain. He wanted you to have them.” The wizard ended, handing the key to Thorin.

Hope sparked in Thorin and as he looked to his friends and family, he could see the same spark in their eyes.

“If there is a key, there must be a door!” Fíli shouts into their conversations.

“And we have a wizard in our company. Gandalf must have killed hundreds of dragons!” deep admiration in his voice Kíli looks to Gandalf as if he expects the smoking man to present a dead dragon to him.

A fairly loud discussion took place, wether Gandalf had taken down hundreds of dragons or not.

Thorin, now finished with his meal, and unusually annoyed by the noisy gathering, suddenly stood up.

“Shazara!” in Khuzdul he calls them to order.

A glance into the living room reassured him, that the hobbit was still fine. He stops in his very motion.

‘Why would I bother if that lass is comfortable or not? Thought, she is not that bad at all.’ Shaking his head he banishes the strange thoughts from his mind.

“Don’t you think others might have read the signs too? Rumours have begun to spread. Smaug hasn’t been seen for sixty years. Eyes look east towards the mountain. Calculating. Are we going to leave our home, our ancestors treasure, unprotected? No, we are going to take back what is rightfully ours. We are going to take back our home!”

Agreeing cheers hum through the air as they all begin to dream of a brighter future.

In the meantime, Bella has woken up. With both hands she clutches the mug of hot tea. It was no dream. This is real. There are indeed thirteen dwarves in her hallway. Happily chattering about a glorious future once they reclaimed their mountain. Anxiously she takes a sip of tea . Her hands are shaking. Just like that one time she had to fight for the first time in her life. Her first time holding her sword. She misses the trusted weight on her hips.

Quietly she wanders towards the happy cheers and loud laughters. Bella stops in the round opening which leads into the hallway where the dwarves placed the table to fit everyone in. None of them notices her. She also has no intention on announcing her presence. Simply standing here, counting ‘her’ dwarves and watching them, calms her down. Her hands stop shaking, allowing her to take another sip of tea.

The dwarves continue to make plans when Ori seems to realise something.

“So this is why we need a burglar!”

“Yes, you are right, Ori. A dragon guards his plunder til his death. To get the Arkenstone, and the help of all those who swore their loyalty upon it, we need an expert burglar. If the dragon is still alive he must steal the Arkenstone.” Balin nods.

Dwalin looks down on the table. He seems deep in thoughts. And he is not the only one. Bofur as well as Kíli and Fíli were observing the halfling for the whole evening. She did act strange. Not upset, angry, annoyed or surprised. Rather friendly and understanding. With thirteen dwarves -she shouldn’t know- inviting themselves inside and pillaging her pantry Belladonna Baggins was still friendly and understanding. She simply smiled at the harsh jokes and rough manners of them. Always refilling the plates and mugs of her guests.

Bofur is the one speaking out what they all seem to brood over.

“Does one of you know this hobbit, besides Gandalf?”

It is a rather simple question. Still, it irritates half of the dwarves while the other half gets what is going on.

Gandalf leans back. He looks amused to Bella and as their eyes meet, she could swear he winked.

“I don’t know her.” Gloin denies.

Oin had to be asked twice until he also denied, as well as the rest of them. Dwalin rises to speak.

“When I arrived, she jumped at me . I first thought I was attacked. She was sobbing and muttering something of being relieved that I was alive. Then suddenly pulling away. She knew the lads names before they arrived.” The tattooed warrior looks a bit lost, as if he still couldn’t quite understand if that was real.

Fíli and Kíli are strongly nodding.

“She hugged us, uncle. Tears in her eyes.” Fíli says. “She looked a bit like mother when she said farewell to us…” Kíli adds.

Suddenly they all had something to say. Except Bombur. He was still eating. Without a care in the world or for this conversation. Bellas lips curled up to a shy smile. He was still the same as always. In fact they all where.

‘If I go with them this time, maybe I can change their fate. Now I am more capable than ever. I could save them.’ Deep in thoughts Bella starts chewing on her lip, not realising she had bitten too hard. Blood was coming out.

“Has she gone mad?”

Bellas head shoots up. Her eyes locking onto Dori.

In this exact moment she had to make a decision. Tell them about her ‘situation’ or not to tell them at all. She would go with them, if they want her to or not. That was for sure. Even if she would tell them, would they believe her? She surely wouldn’t. Gandalf, he may be of some help, well, maybe.

Lord Elrond, or to be precise, Lady Galadriel might know how to handle this kind of situation.

Yes. Better not tell them. She would figure out how to help them. She would change their fate. She would save their lives. Nothing, not even a dragon would ever hinder her. She wouldn’t let them die a second time. Determined what she had to do she takes a step into the light.

“Well, master Dori. Who wouldn’t? With thirteen dwarves in my home, pillaging my pantry, trailing mud through the halls, throwing my mothers finest dishes from one to another and into my kitchen. With a wizard, who only speaks in riddles and a king who can’t even properly introduce himself!” The grip around her mug tightens as she takes another step into the room.

“I also have to apologise. I haven’t introduce myself yet. Belladonna Baggins, at your service. You are very welcome to stay the night. I have plenty of vacant rooms, also plenty pillows so you could sleep all together in my living room. It is a pleasure to meet you all.”

Once again silence fills the hobbit hole. Bofur stopped eating and Oin looked around with a curious look.

“Give her the contract.” Thorin grunts in Balins direction.

The dwarf stands up and rummages through his pockets. His white beard swinging from one side to the other.

“Just the usual. Summary of all the pocket expanses. Time required. Funeral arrangements, so forth.”

Bella had read that contract before. She takes it from Balin before Thorin could shove it onto her again like last time. Briefly reading through she looks up again. They all observed her. Again she chews on her lip till the taste of iron fills her mouth.

“I am sorry… I can’t sign this.” Bella muttered more to herself than to the company.

Immediately an uproar of complains, disbelief and angry ‘I told you’ screams, hindered her to make her request.

Dwalin, hammering with his fist on the poor table while loudly arguing with Gloin. Bifur barking in Khuzdul and making different gestures with his hands towards Oin, who looked even more confused. Fíli and Kíli throwing bits of food across the table and yelling about that they wouldn’t need a burglar, because the dragon would long be dead. Thorin is surprisingly quiet.

Bella politely signs Balin to follow her into the living room. He follows, as does Gandalf. Thorin as well followed them, out of curiosity only of course and not because he was concerned what the halfling had to say.

“I can’t sign this…” she tries to start again.

“When did doilies and your mothers dishes become so important to you? I remember a young hobbit who was running of in search of elves in the woods. Who would stay out late, coming home trailing twigs and mud and fireflies. A young hobbit who would like any better than finding out what is beyond the borders of the shire. The world isn’t in your books and maps. It is out there.” The Istari points towards the window.

A long deep sight escaped Bellas mouth. She feels the burning look of Thorin on her back. Looking at Balin she tries for a third time.

“Master Balin. I am terrible sorry, but I can’t sign the contract.”

A despising grunt from behind her makes her close her mouth once again. She could ignore the stubborn and prejudice dwarven king, but where would be the fun in that? So she turns around.

Thorin had known from the very beginning that something was terribly wrong with this hobbit. She was different. In her presence it was hard to keep a neutral expression. She reminds him even a bit of his sister. When she was near he started to question all sort of things, even himself. And the worst, there didn’t seem to be a reasonable explanation for all of this.

Before he could stop himself a displeased grunting sound vibrates in his throat. The hobbit stops talking and slowly turns around to look him in the eyes. He takes a moment to examine her. Long and curly brown hair framing her lovely face. Sharp shining green-blue eyes and a mouth that always seems to smile gently. Her ears slightly showing between the thick curls are a little bit pointy. Her green dress with the yellow waistcoat beautifully complementing her figure and eyes.

‘How nice would it be to braid those amazing curls’

“Can I help you with something, master Thorin?” she asks him gently, yet with a sharp subtext.

Thorin straightens himself to his full height, like a young dwarf caught red-handed.

“Right, you…” before Thorin could think of any kind of convenient answer his nephews storm into the living room.

“Mistress Boggins!” Kíli shouts, “I think I set your kitchen on fire.” And then disappearing again.

Fíli watches as Bella slowly stands up and makes her way towards him. As she passes Balin she smiles apologising. Fíli looks at his uncle. Thorins whole attention was focused on the lass. His eyes following her every motion. To most others it might have looked like the dwarf was angrily eyeing her, but Fíli could read his uncle way better than most. This expression he had never seen before. With a last concerned look towards his uncle he follows Bella into the kitchen.

Thick black smoke filled the room. The shadows of two people running up and down in front of a small flame makes Bella lift one eyebrow. Kíli was trying to suffocate the flame with one of her doilies. Which obviously wouldn’t work. While Ori could only jump from one foot onto the other, a frightened look in his eyes.

“Oh no, oh no, oh no… What should we do? What if she yells at us?” Bella heard Ori mutter in a panic.

Bella opens one of the windows and allows the smoke to leave her home. Rolling up her sleeves she grabs Kíli on one ear and Ori by the arm.

“What where you trying to do? I do like you both, but I don’t trust your cooking skills. Please leave my kitchen.” She escorts them into the hallway where she releases both.

Bella turns towards the older brother. Fíli had been watching her from the side this whole time. She returns his puzzled look. Defeated she closes her eyes for a moment.

'What a mess. Those are really my dwarves!’

“Fíli, would you be so kind and get Bombur and Bofur for me? And please don’t look at me like that. Next time please just ask if you are still hungry. Tell this your brother as well. I am not angry at either of you, so please calm Ori down. I am certain Kíli must have dragged him along, like always. And if you are still in the mood for a little snack, down the hallway to the left, on the board there should still be some cookies and other pastries. Well, if Dwalin hasn’t eaten all of them.”

“It appears we have lost our burglar. Probably for the best. What are we? Merchants, minors, tinkers, toymakers. Hardly the stuff of legends.” Balin sits down once again. Defeated he looks up to his friend.

“There are a few warriors amongst us.” The king answers, his arms crossed. His voice nothing more than a low rumble.

“Old warriors.” Balin corrects him. His eyes wander towards the rest of the company.

“I would take all of these dwarves over an army of the iron hills. For when I called upon them they answered. Loyalty. Honour. A willing heart. I can ask no more than that.” Thorin steps nearer to the fireplace. His mind was still set on the halfling. Somehow he couldn’t free himself from the urge to follow her, to watch her whenever she is in sight. Absent minded he starts to hum.

“We are with you laddie. We will see it done.” Balin whispers before he also joins the low hum.

One by one the whole company of Thorin Oakenshield finds their way into the living room. The fire is burning brightly, sending small sparks into the dark night sky. Those who are old enough remember the raging fires of the day when the dragon came.

Far over the misty mountains cold

To dungeons deep and caverns old

We must away ere break of day

To find our long-forgotten gold

The pines were roaring on the height

The winds were moaning in the night

The fire was red, it flaming spread

The trees like torches blazed with light

Chapter 1

Masterpost

[iphonegreys]

The hobbit king under the mountain

Thrin I Thorin I abandoned the Kingdom for the Grey Mountains Thrr restored the Kingdom but lost it to Smaug Smaug - claimed title and kingdom after the Sack of Erebor. The King under the Mountain was also by right the King of Durin's Folk. Enjoy itMusic: Twelve Titans Music - Valhalla ht. This is where it gets even more complicated: their whole bloodline is descended from the kings of the greatest dwarf kingdom, Khazad-Dum, also known as Moria, which we see in The Fellowship of the Ring and which was lost to that ancient demon of the deep, the Balrog. The dwarves, for Tolkien, offer a cautionary moral tale: their insatiable greed and lust for the treasures of the earth serve only to bring evil upon them. The King under the Mountain, also called the King of Erebor, was the hereditary title of the Dwarven ruler who resides at the Lonely Mountain. Son of Thrain, the king under the mountain, The murder of Azog and the most brave Dwarf of the Middle Earth. Thror, grandfather of Thorin, King under the Mountain until it was conquered by Smaug. Thrain the Old, ancestor of Thorin and first King under the Mountain, finder of the Arkenstone. Radagast, a wizard mentioned as a 'cousin' of Gandalf. *Thorin I is six generations Thorin II’s elder he was King under the Lonely Mountain before choosing to abandon it to colonize another set of mountains (descendants would return). Dain, the new King under the Mountain, and the only one left of the royal bloodline after Thorin, Fili and Kili are all killed by the enemy, takes the throne and upholds the dwarven word with. Gandalf, the mastermind behind The Hobbits quest. He intones in the first chapter of Tolkien’s The Hobbit: “Far over the misty mountains grim/ To dungeons deep and caverns dim/ We must away ere break of day/ To win our harps and gold from him.” Thorin leads his dwarves to settle in the Blue Mountains northwest of the Shire, but never shakes the tug of his eastern birthright and his hatred for the dragon who stole it. His father, Thrain II, wanders off, half-crazy, and, as we learn in Tolkien’s appendices, is captured and tortured by the über-evil Sauron. The dwarves won that fight, but lost half their numbers, including their king Thror, Thorin’s grandfather. orc bloodbath at the gates of the greatest lost dwarf kingdom, Moria-where, amid the clash of blade and axe, he was forced to defend himself with a splintered oak trunk. Played by a frowning Richard Armitage, Thorin in The Hobbit draws immediate comparison to Viggo Mortensen’s Aragorn in the earlier LoTR movies- yet another scion of a glorious bloodline reduced to skulking in shadows. Thorin earned the sobriquet “Oakenshield” at the Battle of Anulbizar-an epic dwarf vs. “The years lengthened,” Tolkien writes, and “the embers in the heart of Thorin grew hot again, as he brooded on the wrongs of his House and of the vengeance upon the Dragon that was bequeathed to him.” In his Unfinished Tales, Tolkien describes Thorin as an “heir without hope,” hardened by both despair and rage. As you find out early in The Hobbit film, this gold-rich kingdom (also known as Erebor) was lost to the fearsome fire-drake Smaug. He’s the leader of the company that disrupts Bilbo’s pastoral idyll in the Shire en route to reclaiming his people’s home under the Lonely Mountain. Thorin Oakenshield-technically Thorin II*-is the one dwarf you won’t forget.

[weirddemiwood]

PART 1

Masterlist

It was a Sunday evening as Eirene was walking through Target, trying to figure out what she wanted to cook that day. As she passed a door with the writing, 'STAFF ONLY' on it, she noticed a purple light coming from underneath the door accompanied by the sound of rain.

Curious as she was, she looked around before opening the door. She was instantly engulfed by purple light which shined so bright, that she had to cover her eyes. Suddenly, the air around her smelled like dirt and it felt as if she was standing under a shower. Opening her eyes, she noticed that it was raining and that she was no longer in the Target but in a little village.

Confused, she started walking in no particular direction until she came across what seemed to be a pub called 'The Prancing Pony'. Realization dawned upon her. This must be some kind of prank from Elias. He must have found someone who was able to create powerful illusions and made them create an illusion of Middle Earth or whatever that world by Tolkien was called.

Deciding to go along with it, she stepped into the pub and out of the rain. Inside there was a lot of laughing and everything smelled of alcohol. She sat down on one of the stools by what seemed to be the bar and patted the black cat that sat on top of it.

"There you are," a voice next to her said. "I was looking for you."

Eirene looked to where the voice came from and had to laugh as she looked at a man who must be Gandalf. "Pretty sure you are confusing me with someone else."

"Are you not Eirene of the Spring court?"

Eirene laughed, thinking this was all part of the illusion, "Sure I am although nobody says court anymore."

"Ah, of course," Gandalf nodded, "Now come." he made a gesture for her to follow as he moved to a different part of the pub. Eirene followed as he sat down with a short man that seemed familiar to her. He must be a main character. "Mind if we join you?" Gandalf asked.

As a waitress passed the small group, Gandalf stopped and requested the same food that" the guy in front of them with the long hair had.

"I should introduce myself," Gandalf said, "My name is Gandalf and this is Eirene." he then explained. "Gandalf the Grey and Eirene of the Spring Division."

The guy looked at him, "I know who you are," then he looked at Eirene, "But you I do now know and I do not wish to be familiar with any elves."

"Elf?" Eirene asked, "Who are you calling an elf here, mister?"

"Eirene is a Fae," Gandalf explained. "Now what brings Thorin Oakenshield to Bree?" Oh yeah, that was who the guy was.

"I received word that my father...had been seen wandering... the wilds near Dunland. I went looking. I found no sign of him."

"Thorin, it's been a long time since anything but rumor was heard of Thrain."

"He still lives," Thorin, who Eirene knew to be a dwarf, insisted. "I am sure of it." After the waitress brought Gandalf and Eirene their food, Thorin continued, "My father came to see you before he went missing. What did you say to him?"

"I urged him to march upon Erebor. To rally the seven armies of the Dwarves to destroy the dragon and take back the Lonely Mountain. And I would say the same to you. Take back your homeland."

Wasn't that the plot of the Hobbit movies? Eirene had never watched them but Elias never shut up about the 'Tolkienverse'. Why the hell did he put her into this? Wouldn't he enjoy it much more to be in it himself?

Eirene then noticed that she had missed part of the conversation as Gandalf said, "The Lonely Mountain troubles me Thorin. That dragon has sat there long enough. Sooner or later darker minds will turn towards Erebor. I ran into some unsavory characters while traveling on the Greenway. They took me for a vagabond."

"I imagine they regretted that."

Gandalf took out a piece of leather. "One of them was carrying a message." he put the piece of leather forward, "It is Black Speech. A promise of payment."

"For what?"

"Your head. Someone wants you dead. Thorin, you can wait no longer. You are the heir to the throne of Durin. Unite the armies of the Dwarves. Together, you have the might and power to retake Erebor. Summon a meeting of the seven Dwarf families. Demand they stand by their oath."

Thorin eaned forward, "The seven armies swore that oath to the one who wields the King's Jewel. The Arkenstone. It is the only thing that will unite them, and in case you have forgotten...that jewel was stolen by Smaug."

"What if I were to help you reclaim it?" Gandalf asked.

"How? The Arkenstone lies half a world away. Buried beneath the feat of a fire-breathing dragon."

"Yes, it does. Which is why we're going to need a burglar."

"And she?" Thorin asked nodding in Eirene's direction, "Why is she here."

"You will see," Gandalf said and reminded Eirene very much of Dumbledore at that moment. "Now, I must take care of a few things but I shall meet you again soon."

He then stood up and left, making a hand motion for Eirene to follow him. She did so and as they left Gandalf gave her instructions to meet him again in nine months in Bag End. He then told her how to get there.

"Wait, what am I supposed to do till then?" she asked.

The Wizard turned around, "I think you will find that the time goes by faster than you think."

[xxbyimm]

30 days writing challenge - Day 7 - Thorin Oakenshield - A chance meeting

Day 7 from @deepestfirefun‘s challenge was a song  from the movie 'The Greatest Showman'. The song is called The Other Side and you can find it here.

Yeah so Thorin is exactly the muscial singing guy type, right? *laughs* No... I've woven some sentences from the scene into another that's quite familiar to y'all: Thorin's meeting with Gandalf in Bree. The lyrics from the song are obviously not mine, and also quite some lines are distracted from the hobbit. All those rights belong to the true owners. I'm just a mere writer with a weird mind.

A chance meeting

The rumors of his father wandering the wilds near Dunland turned out just to be that.

Rumors.

Thorin Oakenshield barged into the tavern, his mood fouler than usual. He’d better give it up anyway, and face the obvious truth. Thráin was dead. And still… Thorin grumbled, sitting down at one of the empty tables in the inn, the hearth warming his back. A pleasant shiver went through his spine. He urgently needed some food and a comfortable bed. He had been traveling for weeks, and he was sick of it. Dís had asked him numerous times to give up, to start believing their father was gone… But Thorin had told her in return that he couldn’t, because the moment he accepted his father’s death… it would mean that the ruins of a once great dwarven kingdom rested on their shoulders.His shoulders.Of course he had occupied the role of king for over decades now, and had grown used of guiding his people. But there were no fancy halls from which he ruled, no throne. He was a leader to his kin, but that was all there was. As any dwarf of Erebor, Thorin desired to return home above anything else, but at the same time this wish brought him great pains. He feared his ancestry. His grandfather had gone mad while yielding this power, succumbing to the dragon sickness. There were no guarantees that he wouldn’t fall for the same trick…

A fair servant girl with dark hair neared him and Thorin ordered some ale and bread. He eyed the room as he waited for his food. Bree was a traveler’s village, with quite some shady people in it. One should never lose its guard here. It was amusing though, to watch those humans getting drunk far too easily and as a result of that doing all kind of stupid things… He grinned when a scrawny man fell of his chair while his comrades were cracking up about it. Thorin got his pipe from his traveling bag, filling it with tobacco and lighting it up. He inhaled slowly and closed his eyes. He felt his body slowly relaxing. This was just what he needed.

‘There you are…’ The servant girl was smiling down on him, setting his food before him. ‘Ah, thank you.’ Thorin nodded and laid his pipe down on the table. He grabbed the given bread, eager to take a first bite. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been this hungry. Thorin watched a human lifting a child (Wait, was it a child? Did human children have these hairy feet?) on a barstool while enjoying his meal. But then he saw something dark luring in the corner of his eye and he turned his head. There was a large ugly human fellow in the corner, eyeing him curiously. The man was bald, partly blind, but his right eye was watching Thorin’s every move. Thorin quickly turned to the left, only to find another shady figure in the corner over there. He was being watched, and he didn’t like it one bit. Thorin slowly reached for his sword, ready to counter any attack when…

‘Mind if I join you?’

An old man sat down on the other side of the table and Thorin knew instantly who he was. A man with a grey cloak and a long beard, friendly blue eyes and a predilection to stick his nose in other people’s business... This had to be Gandalf the grey. ‘I should introduce myself.’ The wizard said. ‘My name is Gandalf. Gandalf the Grey.’ ‘I know who you are.’ Thorin replied. Gandalf beamed, he seemed to be happy about the fact that Thorin knew who he was. ‘Now, this is a fine chance!’ He began. ‘What brings you to Bree, Thorin Oakenshield?’ ‘I received word that my father had been seen wandering the wilds near Dunland.’ Thorin confided. ‘I went looking, but there was no sign of him.’ The wizard heaved a sigh. ‘Thorin, it's been a long time since anything but rumor was heard of Thrain…’ ‘He still lives!’ Thorin countered. ‘I am sure of it.’

Their conversation was disturbed by the maid, who brought Gandalf a plate with food. Thorin watched Gandalf, curious to find out why the wizard suddenly was concerned with him and his kin. This was no chance meeting, and he was going to find out why. ‘My father came to see you, before he went missing.’ Thorin said. ‘What did you tell him?’ Gandalf furrowed his brows together. ‘I urged him to march upon Erebor, to rally the seven armies of the Dwarves, to destroy the dragon and take back the Lonely Mountain. Take back your homeland.’ Thorin shook his head, taking a sip from his ale. ‘This is no chance meeting, isn’t it Gandalf?’ ‘Alas it’s not.’ ‘Well, tell me what you want.’ Thorin spoke, leaning back a little. ‘Right here, right now, I put the offer out.’ Gandalf admitted. ‘I don’t want to chase you down, I know you see it too.’ ‘See what?’ Thorin inquired. ‘Erebor! That dragon had sat there long enough…’ Gandalf pressed. ‘You have to take back the lonely mountain!’ ‘It’s impossible.’ Thorin groaned. ‘I can ride towards the iron hills, but Daín will never lend me his army.’ ‘Well, you can play it sensible, a king of the conventional… or you can risk it all and see!’ Gandalf encouraged. ‘Don't you want to get away from the same old part you got to play?’ ‘Me and my people are fine in the blue mountains.’ Thorin huffed. ‘We have a good life there.’ ‘Do you? Don’t you miss your home?’ the wizard questioned. ‘You can stay in that cage, or you'll finally take the key…’ ‘Well I hate to tell you, but it just won't happen.’ Thorin hissed. ‘Because we quite enjoy the life you say we’re trapped in! We ain’t in a cage, so I don’t need to take that (so-called) key.’ ‘Sooner or later dark minds will turn towards Erebor. I ran into some unsavory characters yesterday, they mistook me for a vagabond. One of them was carrying this…’ Gandalf told him, laying something on the table and gesturing Thorin to look at it. Thorin peered at the leather scrap, the scribblings on it unfamiliar to him. ‘What is it?’ ‘It’s a promise of payment.’ Gandalf said. ‘For your head. Someone wants you dead Thorin, and I don’t think you can wait any longer.’ ‘I know.’ Thorin growled, feeling a quite irritated by the fact that the old wizard in fact had the trait to know what was bothering someone. ‘You are the heir to the Throne of Durin!’ Gandalf exclaimed. ‘Please, unite the armies of the Dwarves. Together, you have the might and power needed to retake Erebor. You have to summon a meeting of the seven Dwarf families and demand they stand by their oath!’ ‘You forget that the seven armies swore that oath to the king that wields the Arkenstone!’ Thorin lashed out. ‘And that jewel was stolen by Smaug.’ ‘What if I were to help you reclaim it?’

The question took him by surprise, but Thorin was clever enough not to show. ‘Well it's intriguing, but to go would cost me greatly…’ he mused. ‘And would help me, like you said, what will you ask in return?’ ‘Nothing.’ Thorin narrowed his eyes, not sure if he should believe that. ‘So that’s settled then.’ Gandalf mused, putting the issues aside. ‘I will help you take back Erebor…’ He shifted on the bench. ‘Now… we have lot to discuss...’

[princecami]

Imagine Thranduil: Eurielle’s torment

Summary: Eurielle was the king’s best friend, and was surprised by her assaults, but now faces a great dilemma, who owns her heart?

Warnings: None.

I would like to thank the @moonofmorrigan

chapter 1   chapter 2   chapter 3 charpter 4   charpter 5  charpter 6   charpter 7  charpter 8 charpter 9   charpter 10 charpter 11charpter 12    charpter 13   charpter 14

Eurielle, a year ago, would have run into Thorin's arms. So she thought of Thranduil, what he had done for her last year, loved her intensely and cared for her wounds, thought of the first kiss she shared with him, the first time she made love to him. She never thought of Thorin again and her heart was healed. Then she realized that she truly loved him more truthfully and intensely, and no one would change her mind, because her heart belonged to him alone.

"No Thorin," she sighed, "I'm not here for you, I'm here for the people of the Lake!" I do not love you and I do not know you anymore, that attitude is shameful!”

" Get out! Go back to your kingdom! Fight alongside your king and get ready! If I see you during the battle I will not have compassion on you!"

Eurielle walked quietly through the snow, her thoughts wandering in her memories. There were none that Thranduil was not present. The lights of the camp grew closer and closer and the sounds of elven harps and sweet songs floated in the air, strong with the thoughts of war when Eurielle came near the camp. She stopped to watch her people from afar. She would have to leave and she would miss the way her people lived.

Thranduil came to her and stepped unnecessarily close, the girl's head touching his chest.

" Where were you?" Thranduil asked, his voice soft and low.

" With Thorin."

"What do you want with him?"

"I want him to stop being a fool."

" What did he say?" The king bent to sniff the girl's hair.

"He invited me to join him."

They were silent, while an elf passed near them.

"Why did not you stay?"

"Why did I not...? "

" You will stay with me?" He grabbed the girl's neck and turned her face lightly, his lips brushing hers. "Will you go back to the kingdom with me?"

"No," she said in a weak voice, knowing she could not give in, or could not say good-bye. As the king's hands tightened on her throat, she pulled back and pressed her back against a wall. She closed her eyes and felt a warm breath against her, then moved to escape. The king grabbed her and pressed her against the chest. Swiftly another hand grasped the back of her neck to prevent her from turning her face. She felt her lips pressed, the tongue of the king invaded her mouth without warning, exploring and claiming. Thranduil broke the kiss and examined the girl's face while she kept her eyes closed. Her face was red from intimate contact. She gasped in protest, one hand was still holding the back of her neck, and another grabbed her waist by pulling her to him. Her hands went upon the king's waist. He returned to kissing her, slowly and deeply devouring her mouth, showing all the love he felt, when it is what she was looking for.

"I can not let you go," said the king, "I can not let you do that."

Eurielle felt her heart pound.

"I'm afraid," she sighed. "I'm afraid of everything that's going on, I need some time to think.

Thranduil wrapped her in his arms, she buried her face in his chest and scent - calm and soft.

"I will not allow it "

**

Eurielle fell asleep. When she left the tent to face an opaque light from the winter sun, there were two guards next to her tent. She walked around the camp and the people, then realized that the guards followed her from afar, she stopped abruptly and said:

"What the hell are you doing?"

"These are the king's orders, madam," said one.

"King's orders?" Sensual lips curled in surprise and irritation. Thranduil who watched from a distance smiled, loved to tease her, Eurielle most of the time was very calm and romantic, but knew full well how to fight when provoked.

She bit her lower lip while his blue eyes followed the young woman who was walking toward him, she was smaller than Legolas and Tauriel, her long dark brown hair covered herback, her hands are reasonably small, her breasts seemed choked and tight against an elephant suit, she was visibly irritated, the king entered the tent accompanied by a guard.

"What is going on ?! What are you thinking ?!" she grunted grabbing the king for clothes, one of the guards ready to punish the girls, the king gave a hand accent so that he failed.

"You said you would run away," he said softly, "I can not allow it, you will not be expelled, but you will receive your due punishment."

"Please! Just let me go", she snorted, " I have nothing to do in your kingdom!"

"I'll give you proper punishment personally" his blue eyes concentrating on her exhaling causing and excitment in the king.

"I want to leave!" She tried.

"All your behavior, including the way you are if you control yourself now, you get punished for them" his deep voice had gained tons of irritation, "you will not have rest Eurielle."

The perception of heat and the spread of the body, and how the provocative words had an intense effect on her, she was impressed how her body reacted to that tone the king wore in an intense way as if he were devouring her.

"We'll negotiate with the dwarves and you'll stay here"

"I'm leaving, King Thranduil," she said firmly, "when you return I will not be here."

"So go!" grunted the King, taking her by the arm, "if I find you, I'll take you home, even if it is not your will."

**

- Hail, Thorin!" said Bard. "Are you still of the same opinion?"

"My opinion is not an answer to the likes of some of you," said Thorin. "Did you come here to ask useless questions? The elven troop has not yet departed, as I have commanded! Until that happens, it is in vain that you come here to negotiate with me."

"So there's nothing for you to give away some of your gold?"

"Nothing that you or your friends offer me."

"And what about the Arken Stone of Thrain?" he said, and at that moment the old man opened the safe and lifted the stone. The light burst from his hand, clear and white in the morning.

Thorin was dumbfounded with amazement and perplexity. No one spoke for a while. Thorin, at last, broke the silence and his voice was embashed with anger.

"This was my father's stone, and it's mine," he said. "Why should I buy what's mine?" with surprise he added, "But since you're holding the inheritance of my house, is it needed to ask thieves questions?"

"We are not thieves," said Bard. "We will give you what is yours in exchange for what is ours."

"How did you find it?" cried Thorin, in increasing fury.

"I gave it to them," Bilbo squealed, peering over a wall, terribly terrified.

"I'll give away a little gold," he said, but in exchange for the Arken stone and Eurielle."

"No, she is mine," Thranduil said in his proud, haughty voice.

" Yours?" The dwarf laughed, Bard turned his eyes to the king, as did Gandalf and Bilbo, the king's eyes darkened, and his voice was dark.

"Eurielle is my queen!" he did not shout but his voice echoed on the mountain like thunder "she is not a bargaining object, I would never give someone of my people in exchange for a handful of gold!"

It was still early when there was a shout in the camp. Scouts were about to announce that an army of dwarves had sprung up the eastern foothills of the Mountain, and now hastened toward Dale. Dain had arrived. Advanced at night so he met them earlier than expected. Each of his people wore a long chain of steel mesh that descaled to a height of his knees and had like legs covered in breeches of a thin and flexible metallic mesh, whose duration was a secret possessed by the people of Dain. The dwarfs are extremely strong for their height, but most of these were strong even for dwarfs. In battle they wielded double-edged logs, but each also wore a short, broad sword and a round shield hanging from his back. They had split beards and fastenings in their belts. Their helmets were of iron, of iron as well as their shoes, and their faces are fierce. Trumpets summoned men and elves to arms. Soon the dwarves could be seen climbing swiftly up the valley.

Eurielle watched the dwarves approach, and waited.

"Fools!" laughed Bard. " Come this way, under the arm of the Mountain! They do not understand war above ground, no matter what they know about battles in the mines. Many of their archers and launchers are now

hidden in the rocks on their left flank. The dwarven mesh may be good, but soon they will be in trouble. Let us now attack them from both sides, before they are completely rested!"

But the Elven King said:

"I will remain here long before this war for gold begins." Dwarves can not pass us by, they are not so desirable, nor do anything without note. Let's hope something happens that brings reconciliation. However, we can not reach a reasonable period of access to an unfortunate battle.

But he forgot to consider the dwarfs. An idea that the Arken Stone was in the power of the besiegers was boiling in their thoughts, they also guessed the hesitation of Bard and his friends and decided to attack while they debated.

Suddenly, without any signal, they advanced silently to the attack. Arcs whistled and arrows whistled, a battle was beginning. Eurielle ran up against the battle, with three orcs on top of one of the dwarves, the elves were the first to attack. Her hatred for orcs is cold and bitter. Their spears and swords shone in the dark with a flash of cold flame, so deadly was a wrath of their hands as they wielded. So the army of the enemy was crowded without a voucher, sent against a new navigating platform, and each in November, as if lit with needles of fire. Behind the arrows, a thousand of his spearmen descended and attacked.

Eurielle was without arrows, her twin swords glittered with ice, a falling snow covering the ground, an orc tried to attack her closely, but was shot down, another approached. she climbed on top of him, propped one foot on his knee and the other on the shoulder and engraved a blade without skull and body fell, she jumped and managed to hit another enemy, but an orc archer marked from afar and hit a poisoned arrow in her stomach. With strong feeling and a strong blow she seen an arrow buried within and the blood staining her green clothes. Her vision was clouded, and it began to darken, it is my death, she thought, and her eyes closed, and her

body slowly fell on the battlefield joining many others that covered almost all the ground.

[the-seas-song]

Kiliel Week Post Response

Hello. This is a follow-up post to my Kiliel Week Day 2 headcanons post. @milesofkeeffe asked for clarification and quotes regarding my statement that “contrary to popular fan opinion, according to Tolkien's texts Kiliel would have much more acceptance with elven culture than dwarven culture”.

A bit of necessary info about me is that I mainly write essays – what little fanfic I have written is not coming online! Unfortunately, my respective essays on elven and dwarven culture are not finished; so I apologize for the roughness of this post.

Something that I have noticed is that the majority of fans/fanworks that I've come across (especially for The Hobbit fandom) code dwarves=masculine=good and elves=feminine=bad. This makes logical sense on two counts – the dwarves are the protagonists of TH, and this is what the Patriarchy/sexism says.

However, Tolkien explicitly did the opposite. Yes, he coded the dwarves as being a fundamentally masculine race, and the elves as being a fundamentally feminine race. At the same time, he made dwarven culture the most sexist, and elven culture egalitarian. This wasn’t a coincidence - it’s part of his overarching and systematic takedown of sexism.

I'm going to start with the dwarves, because Tolkien wrote a lot less for them, so it's a lot easier to go over!

Dis was the daughter of Thrain II. She is the only dwarf-woman named in these histories. It was said by Gimli that there are few dwarf-women, probably no more than a third of the whole people. They seldom walk abroad except at great need. They are in voice and appearance, and in garb if they must go on a journey, so like to the dwarf-men that the eyes and ears of other peoples cannot tell them apart. This had given rise to the foolish opinion among Men that there are no dwarf-women, and that the Dwarves 'grew out of stone'.

It is because of the fewness of women among them that the kind of the Dwarves increases slowly, and is in peril when they have no secure dwellings. For Dwarves take only one wife or husband each in their lives, and are jealous, as in all matters of their rights. The number of dwarf-men that marry is actually less than one-third. For not all the women take husbands: some desire none; some desire one that they cannot get, and so will have no other. As for the men, very many also do not desire marriage, being engrossed in their crafts. - Lord of the Rings, Appendix A

Dwarf-women are not named on family trees. They do not go outside. Nor do they partake in dwarven crafts - Tolkien specifically states that is only a reason for the men. Dwarves only fall in love once, and both male and female dwarves are “jealous” of their spouses and spousal rights.

For the Naugrim have beards from the beginning of their lives, male and female alike; nor indeed can their womenkind be discerned by those of other race, be it in feature or in gait or in voice, nor in any wise save this: that they go not to war, and seldom save at direst need issue from their deep bowers and halls. - War of the Jewels, Concerning the Dwarves

Again, Tolkien says dwarf-women do not go outside. They also do not fight.

This is followed by the information attributed to Gimli concerning the Dwarf-women, which was  preserved in Appendix A (RK  p. 360). There is no difference in substance in the present text, except  for the statements that they are never forced to wed against their will (which 'would of course be impossible'), and that they have beards. This latter is said also in the 1951 revision of the Quenta Silmarillion  (XI.205, $5).

[cut]

Finally, there is a note on the absence of record concerning the women of the Dwarves:

They are seldom named in genealogies. They join their husbands' families. But if a son is seen to be 110 or so years younger than his father, this usually indicates an elder daughter. Thorin's sister Dis is named simply because of the gallant death of her sons Fili and Kili in defense of Thorin II. The sentiment of affection for sister's children was strong among all peoples of the Third Age, but less so among Dwarves than Men or Elves among whom it was strongest. - The Peoples of Middle-earth, Durin's Folk

Dwarf-women are not named on family trees. They join their husband's family. The “sentiment of affection for sister's children” is the least strong amongst dwarves. At least dwarf-women can't be forced into marriage.

According to Tolkien, Fili and Kili were never Thorin's heirs.

There fell also Fíli and Kíli, his sister-sons. But Dáin Ironfoot, his cousin, who came from the Iron Hills to his aid and was also his rightful heir, became then King Dáin II, and the Kingdom under the Mountain was restored, even as Gandalf had desired. - Lord of the Rings, Appendix A

Many fans feel this quote is ambiguous, because the part about Dain comes after saying Fili and Kili died. However, Tolkien (somewhat) clarified the matter.

First, though, in The Hobbit, A Warm Welcome it says:

“And who are these?” he asked, pointing to Fili and Kili and Bilbo.

“The sons of my father's daughter,” answered Thorin, “Fili and Kili of the race of Durin, and Mr. Baggins who has travelled with us out of the West.”

Thorin does not refer to Fili and Kili as his heirs. If they truly were, that would be a great slight to them, after Thorin had proclaimed his own title so proudly.

In The Peoples of Middle-earth, Durin's Folk Tolkien wrote:

Elsewhere is told of the wanderings of Thorin Oakenshield, last of the direct line of Durin,(3) in search of revenge and the restoration of his fortune; and how by the help of Gandalf the Grey he was indeed avenged at last,(4) and Smaug was slain, and after the Battle of Five Armies the kingship under the Mountain was restored. Yet Thorin Oakenshield, grandson of Thror, was slain in that battle, and the right line was broken, and the crown passed to Dain, a kinsman of Thorin.

3. Thorin Oakenshield was not the 'last of the direct line of Durin'; no doubt my father meant that he was the last in the unbroken descent of the kings from father to son (cf. 'the right line was broken' a few lines below).

This is pretty clear – there is nothing about Fili and Kili, only about Thorin and Dain. The “right line was broken” by Thorin's death, otherwise Fili and Kili would be mentioned. Note three is explicit about Tolkien's meaning of “last of the direct line of Durin”.

Going back to dwarven culture, it fits. Putting all of the facts together - Dwarf-women are not named on family trees. They join their husband's family. They do not go outside. They do not go to war, or partake in dwarven crafts. - shows a strong parallel between dwarven culture and some of our world's most sexist cultures.

A bower is “a lady's private apartment in a medieval hall or castle” (source). However, she does not live in it alone; she is merely constrained within it:

The idea of a more private refuge that we expect from the home was in many ways gendered female, not just ideologically but also architecturally (see Wood, Medieval House, and Lámperez y Romea, Arquitectura Civil). It was most associated in the Middle Ages with the residential upper-story solar block, the part of the home most associated with with women and such female domestic activities as sewing, reading, birthing, tending the sick, childcare, sexual activities, and laying out the dead (solars, chambers, and bowers were all names for women's rooms). Women were as closely associated with the chamber as men with the hall: “knights sat in the hall/Ladies in the chamber all” (Zupitza, quoted in Girouard, English Country House, 46). [cut] Modern architectural history, though generally treating the chamber as peripheral to the main interests of the family, offers structural evidence of its centrality: halls were not always defended, but the solar wing – often in the form of a residential tower – was (Faulkner, “Manor House Plans”; Wood, Medieval House, chap. 12). The separate spaces of women, however, were shared rather than truly private, refuges from external rather than internal threats. - Violence Against Women in Medieval Texts, by Anna Roberts

One young Chinese woman explains the mentality behind not being on the family tree:

In China, only the males are recorded in family trees. When my brother was born, a huge fuss was made because he was the son of an only son, and therefore, he was the one who would continue this branch of the family. Never mind that he had an older sister. His name will go in the family tree. My name will not. [cut] One’s paternal relatives are considered to be more closely related and more important. [cut] This shows a blatant preference for the paternal side of the family, once again stressing the masculine link as the more important familial link. Genetically speaking, one receives equal amounts of DNA from both parents, and yet the mother’s bloodline is considered to be of secondary importance. (source)

In Yemen, women cannot leave their house without their husband's permission. Dwarven women are not allowed outside of the Mountain unless something like Smaug happens, and then they must disguise themselves as men (the binary clothing structure is explicit).

It continues to fit even more when we look at the rest of the hypermasculine dwarven culture.

About parenting:

To these they are devoted, often rather fiercely: that is, they may treat them with apparent harshness (especially in the desire to ensure that they shall grow up tough, hardy, unyielding), but they defend them with all their power, and resent injuries to them even more than to themselves. The same is true of  the attitude of children to parents. For an injury to a father a Dwarf may spend a life-time in achieving revenge. Since the 'kings' or heads of lines are regarded as 'parents' of the whole group, it will be  understood how it was that the whole of Durin's Race gathered and marshalled itself to avenge Thror. - The Peoples of Middle-earth, Durin's Folk

Thorin, to Gandalf about Bilbo: “He is soft,” he snorted. “Soft as the mud of his Shire, and silly. His mother died too soon.” - Unfinished Tales, The Quest for Erebor

Thorin implies that it is mainly the mother's job to raise the children, and says soft is bad. Parents are “harsh” so children grow to be “tough, hardy, unyielding”. Vengeance is very important.

They are a tough, thrawn race for the most part, secretive, laborious, retentive of the memory of injuries (and of benefits), lovers of stone, of gems, of things that take shape under the hands of the craftsmen rather than things that live by their own life. But they are not evil by nature, and few ever served the Enemy of free will, whatever the tales of Men alleged. - Lord of the Rings, Appendix F

Therefore they are stone-hard, stubborn, fast in friendship and in enmity, and they suffer toil and hanger and hurt of body more hardily than all other speaking peoples; and they live long, far beyond the span of Men, yet not for ever. -  The Silmarillion, Of Aulë and Yavanna

A warlike race of old were all the Naugrim, and they would fight fiercely against whomsoever aggrieved them: servants of Melkor, or Eldar, or Avari, or wild beasts, or not seldom their own kin, Dwarves of other mansions and lordships. - The Silmarillion, Of the Sindar

Thus there grew up in those regions the economy, later characteristic of the dealings of Dwarves and Men (including Hobbits): Men became the chief providers of food, as herdsmen, shepherds, and landtillers, which the Dwarves exchanged for work as builders, roadmakers, miners, and the makers of things of craft, from useful tools to weapons and arms and many other things of great cost and skill. To the great profit of the Dwarves. Not only to be reckoned in hours of labour, though in early times the Dwarves must have obtained goods that were the product of greater and longer toil than the things or services that they gave in exchange  -  before Men became wiser and developed skills of their own. The chief advantage to them was their freedom to proceed unhindered with their own work and to refine their arts, especially in metallurgy, to the marvellous skill which these reached before the decline and dwindling of the Khazad.

[cut]

In the battles that followed the Dwarves were outnumbered, and though they were the most redoubtable warriors of all the Speaking Peoples they were glad to make alliance with Men. -  The Peoples of Middle-earth, Of Dwarves and Men

We see clearly that this dependency on others for food does not equate to perceived worthiness. In The Quest for Erebor, Unfinished Tales, we get a good look at dwarven prejudice against hobbits.

Gandalf narrates:

I soon understood that his heart was hot with brooding on his wrongs, and the loss of the treasure of his forefathers, and burdened too with the duty of revenge upon Smaug that he bad inherited. Dwarves take such duties very seriously.

[cut]

We actually passed through the Shire, though Thorin would not stop long enough for that to be useful. Indeed I think it was annoyance with his haughty disregard of the Hobbits that first put into my head the idea of entangling him with them. As far as he was concerned they were just food-growers who happened to work the fields on either side of the Dwarves' ancestral road to the Mountains.

[cut]

“What!” cried Glóin. “One of those simpletons down in the Shire? What use on earth, or under it, could he possibly be? Let him smell as he may, he would never dare to come within smelling distance of the nakedest dragonet new from the shell!”

“Now, now!” I said, “that is quite unfair. You do not know much about the Shire-folk, Glóin. I suppose you think them simple, because they are generous and do not haggle; and think them timid because you never sell them any weapons. You are mistaken. Anyway, there is one that I have my eye on as a companion for you, Thorin. He is neat-banded and clever, though shrewd, and far from rash. And I think he has courage. Great courage, I guess, according to the way of his people. They are, you might say, “brave at a pinch.” You have to put these Hobbits in a tight place before you find out what is in them.”

“The test cannot be made,” Thorin answered. “As far as I have observed, they do all that they can to avoid tight places.”

“Quite true,” I said. “They are a very sensible people. But this Hobbit is rather unusual. I think he could be persuaded to go into a tight place. I believe that in his heart he really desires to - to have, as he would put it, an adventure.”

“Not at my expense!” said Thorin, rising and striding about angrily. “This is not advice, it is foolery! I fail to see what any Hobbit good or bad, could do that would repay me for a day's keep, even if he could be persuaded to start.”

[cut]

Thorin's eyes glistened as the memories of lost treasures moved in his mind; but “A paid thief, you mean,” he said scornfully. “That might be considered, if the reward was not too high. But what has all this to do with one of those villagers? They drink out of clay, and they cannot tell a gem from a bead of glass.”

“I wish you would not always speak so confidently without knowledge,” I said sharply. “These villagers have lived in the Shire some fourteen hundred years, and they have learned many things in the time. They had dealings with the Elves, and with the Dwarves, a thousand years before Smaug came to Erebor. None of them are wealthy as your forefathers reckoned it, but you will find some of their dwellings have fairer things in them than you can boast here, Thorin. The Hobbit that I have in mind has ornaments of gold, and eats with silver tools, and drinks wine out of shapely crystal.”

“Ah! I see your drift at last,” said Balin. “He is a thief, then? That is why you recommend him?”

At that I fear I lost my temper and my caution. This Dwarvish conceit that no one can have or make anything 'of value' save themselves, and that all fine things in other hands must have been got, if not stolen, from the Dwarves at some time, was more than I could stand at that moment. “A thief?” I said, laughing. “Why yes, a professional thief, of course! How else would a Hobbit come by a silver spoon? I will put the thief's mark on his door, and then you will find it.”

[cut]

But you know how things went, at any rate as Bilbo saw them. The story would sound rather different, if I had written it. For one thing he did not realize at all how fatuous the Dwarves thought him, nor how angry they were with me. Thorin was much more indignant and contemptuous than he perceived. He was indeed contemptuous from the beginning, and thought then that I had planned the whole affair simply so as to make a mock of him. It was only the map and the key that saved the situation.

[cut]

So I had still to persuade Thorin to take him. There were many difficulties on the road afterwards, but for me this was the most difficult part of the whole affair. Though I argued with him far into the night after Bilbo had retired, it was not finally settled until early the next morning. Thorin was contemptuous and suspicious. “He is soft,” he snorted. “Soft as the mud of his Shire, and silly. His mother died too soon. You are playing some crooked game of your own, Master Gandalf. I am sure that you have other purposes than helping me.”

[cut]

“Do so then!” I said. “I can say no more - unless it is this: I do not give my love or trust lightly, Thorin; but I am fond of this Hobbit, and wish him well. Treat him well, and you shall have my friendship to the end of your days.”

I said that without hope of persuading him; but I could have said nothing better. Dwarves understand devotion to friends and gratitude to those who help them. “Very well,” Thorin said at last after a silence. “He shall set out with my company, if he dares (which I doubt). But if you insist on burdening me with him, you must come too and look after your darling.”

So we have an exceptionally hypermasculine culture that exalts fighting, vengeance, and crafts of stonework, mining and crafting, and weaponry; and also derides femininity. They are also the only culture that exalts secrecy and prejudice in it's theory (reality is a whole different matter, because there are prejudiced people of all races). Unfortunately, their treatment of females doesn't surprise me in the least.

Now, the elves!

First, the basics of elvish nature.

Whereas the Elves remain until the end of days, and their love of the Earth and all the world is more single and more poignant therefore, and as the years lengthen ever more sorrowful. For the Elves die not till the world dies, unless they are slain or waste in grief (and to both these seeming deaths they are subject); neither does age subdue their strength, unless one grow weary of ten thousand centuries; and dying they are gathered to the halls of Mandos in Valinor, whence they may in time return. But the sons of Men die indeed, and leave the world; wherefore they are called the Guests, or the Strangers. Death is their fate, the gift of Ilúvatar, which as Time wears even the Powers shall envy. - The Silmarillion, Of the Beginning of Days

Whereas their own fëar [souls], being designed to remain in Arda to its end, imposed long endurance on their bodies; for they were (as a fact of experience) in far greater control of them. (Author's Note 5, p. 341)

Note 5.

They were thus capable of far greater and longer physical exertions (in pursuit of some dominant purpose of their minds) without weariness; they were not subject to diseases; they healed rapidly and completely after injuries that would have proved fatal to Men; and they could endure great physical pain for long periods. Their bodies could not, however, survive vital injuries, or violent assaults upon their structure; nor replace missing members (such as a hand hewn off). On the reverse side: the Elves could die, and did die, by their will; as for example because of great grief or bereavement, or because of the frustration of their dominant desires and purposes. This willful death was not regarded as wicked, but it was a fault implying some defect or taint in the fëa, and those who came to Mandos by this means might be refused further incarnate life. - Morgoth's Ring, Athrabeth Finrod ah Andreth

The Elves had (as they said themselves) a 'great talent' for memory, but this tended to regret rather than to joy. - Morgoth's Ring, Athrabeth Finrod ah Andreth

“Nay!” said Legolas. “Alas for us all! And for all that walk the world in these after-days. For such is the way of it: to find and lose, as it seems to those whose boat is on the running stream. But I count you blessed, Gimli son of Glóin: for your loss you suffer of your own free will, and you might have chosen otherwise. But you have not forsaken your companions, and the least reward that you shall have is that the memory of Lothlórien shall remain ever clear and unstained in your heart, and shall neither fade nor grow stale.”

“Maybe,” said Gimli; “and I thank you for your words. True words doubtless; yet all such comfort is cold. Memory is not what the heart desires. That is only a mirror, be it clear as Kheled-zâram. Or so says the heart of Gimli the Dwarf. Elves may see things otherwise. Indeed I have heard that for them memory is more like to the waking world than to a dream. Not so for Dwarves.” - Lord of the Rings, Farewell to Lórien

The elves' souls are bound to the Unseen Plane (see here), and so their souls control their bodies – they can just lie down and reject bodily life if they decide to. But there is a great grief in this – their memories and emotions never fade the slightest bit, no matter how many millennia's pass. And if they do 'die' from grief, oblivion still isn't theirs, because their souls and memories still go on. They just become disembodied spirits in the Halls of Mandos, completely consumed by their memories and emotions.

Now, elven gender roles.

In all such things, not concerned with the bringing forth of children, the neri and nissi (12) (that is, the men and women) of the Eldar are equal - unless it be in this (as they themselves say) that for the nissi the making of things new is for the most part shown in the forming of their children, so that invention and change is otherwise mostly brought about by the neri. There are, however, no matters which among the Eldar only a ner can think or do, or others with which only a nis is concerned. There are indeed some differences between the natural inclinations of neri and nissi, and other differences that have been established by custom (varying in place and in time, and in the several races of the Eldar). For instance, the arts of healing, and all that touches on the care of the body, are among all the Eldar most practiced by the nissi; whereas it was the elven-men who bore arms at need. And the Eldar deemed that the dealing of death, even when lawful or under necessity, diminished the power of healing, and that the virtue of the nissi in this matter was due rather to their abstaining from hunting or war than to any special power that went with their womanhood. Indeed in dire straits or desperate defence, the nissi fought valiantly, and there was less difference in strength and speed between elven-men and elven-women that had not borne child than is seen among mortals. On the other hand many elven-men were great healers and skilled in the lore of living bodies, though such men abstained from hunting, and went not to war until the last need.

As for other matters, we may speak of the customs of the Noldor (of whom most is known in Middle-earth). Among the Noldor it may be seen that the making of bread is done mostly by women; and the making of the lembas is by ancient law reserved to them. Yet the cooking and preparing of other food is generally a task and pleasure of men. The nissi are more often skilled in the tending of fields and gardens, in playing upon instruments of music, and in the spinning, weaving, fashioning, and adornment of all threads and cloths; and in matters of lore they love most the histories of the Eldar and of the houses of the Noldor; and all matters of kinship and descent are held by them in memory. But the neri are more skilled as smiths and wrights, as carvers of wood and stone, and as jewelers. It is they for the most part who compose musics and make the instruments, or devise new ones; they are the chief poets and students of languages and inventors of words. Many of them delight in forestry and in the lore of the wild, seeking the friendship of all things that grow or live there in freedom. But all these things, and other matters of labour and play, or of deeper knowledge concerning being and the life of the World, may at different times be pursued by any among the Noldor, be they neri or nissi. - Morgoth's Ring, Laws and Customs Among the Eldar

A little bit of subconscious sexism comes through here on Tolkien's part, but he wrote this later in life and most of it fits. The bit about elven healing doesn't – it is contradicted by pretty much everyone (Glorfindel, Elrond, Elladan, Elrohir, Beleg, Mablung) (tinw has an excellent essay on healing here, which includes all cases of elven healing).

As for the sexism, Tolkien states several times in these two paragraphs that any elf can be and do anything they want. Looking at his elven women, we see a large variety in personalities:

While still in early youth Fëanor wedded Nerdanel, a maiden of the Noldor; at which many wondered, for she was not among the fairest of her people. But she was strong, and free of mind, and filled with the desire of knowledge. In her youth she loved to wander far from the dwellings of the Noldor, either beside the long shores of the Sea or in the hills; and thus she and Fëanor had met and were companions in many journeys. Her father, Mahtan, was a great smith, and among those of the Noldor most dear to the heart of Aulë. Of Mahtan Nerdanel learned much of crafts that women of the Noldor seldom used: the making of things of metal and stone. She made images, some of the Valar in their forms visible, and many others of men and women of the Eldar, and these were so like that their friends, if they knew not her art, would speak to them; but many things she wrought also of her own thought in shapes strong and strange but beautiful.

She also was firm of will, but she was slower and more patient than Fëanor, desiring to understand minds rather than to master them. When in company with others she would often sit still listening to their words, and watching their gestures and the movements of their faces. Her mood she bequeathed in part to some of her sons, but not to all. Seven sons she bore to Fëanor, and it is not recorded in the histories of old that any others of the Eldar had so many children. With her wisdom at first she restrained Fëanor when the fire of his heart burned too hot; but his later deeds grieved her and they became estranged. - Morgoth's Ring, Of Fëanor and the Unchaining of Melkor

Míriel was the name of his mother, who was called Serindë, because of her surpassing skill in weaving and needlework; for her hands were more skilled to fineness than any hands even among the Noldor. - The Silmarillion, Of Fëanor and the Unchaining of Melkor

and:

Silver was her hair and dark were her eyes, but her hands were more skilled to fineness than any hands even of the Noldor. By her was the craft of needles devised; and were but one fragment of the broideries of Míriel to be seen in Middle-earth it would be held dearer than a king's realm, for the richness of her devices and the fire of their colours were as manifold and as bright as the glory of leaf and flower and wing in the fields of Yavanna. - Morgoth's Ring, Of the Silmarils and the Darkening of Valinor

and:

She was a Noldorin Elda of slender and graceful form, and of gentle disposition, though as was later discovered in matters far more grave, she could show an ultimate obstinacy that counsel or command would only make more obdurate. She had a beautiful voice and a delicate and clear enunciation, though she spoke swiftly and took pride in this skill. Her chief talent, however, was a marvellous dexterity of hand. This she employed in embroidery, which though achieved in what even the Eldar thought a speed of haste was finer and more intricate than any that had before been seen. - The Peoples of Middle-Earth, The Shibboleth of Fëanor

Indis: She was not of the Noldor, but of the Vanyar, [of the kin >) sister of Ingwe; and she was golden-haired, and tall, and exceedingly swift of foot. She laboured not with her hands, but sang and made music, and there was ever light and mirth about her while the bliss of Aman endured. [cut] Therefore she remained unwedded, when her people departed to Valinor, and she walked often alone in the fields and friths of the Valar, [turning her thought to things that grow untended >] filling them with music. - Morgoth's Ring, Laws and Customs Among the Eldar

Aredhel: When she was grown to full stature and beauty she was tall and strong, and loved much to ride and hunt in the forests. There she was often in the company of the sons of Fëanor, her kin; but to none was her hearts love given. - The Silmarillion, Of Eldamar and the Princes of the Eldalië

Galadriel: Her mother-name was Nerwen ("man-maiden"),1 and she grew to be tall beyond the measure even of the women of the Noldor; she was strong of body, mind, and will, a match for both the loremasters and the athletes of the Eldar in the days of their youth. - Unfinished Tales, The History of Galadriel and Celeborn

I do not have any short quotes to give for Luthien, Idril, or Arwen; but the great deeds of Galadriel and Luthien are well-known (Luthien also wandered alone in the forests a lot in her youth). Idril is a remarkable politician; and though Arwen is often overlooked by fans, she has a great influence in LotR (for more on that, see my Arwen essay).

So while Tolkien's own subconscious sexism came through a little, it can be dismissed – the history of Middle-earth systematically shows the opposite of “invention and change is otherwise mostly brought about by the neri.”

Another relevant passage:

Aredhel Ar-Feiniel, the White Lady of the Noldor, daughter of Fingolfin, dwelt in Nevrast with Turgon her brother, and she went with him to the Hidden Kingdom. But she wearied of the guarded city of Gondolin, desiring ever the longer the more to ride again in the wide lands and to walk in the forests, as had been her wont in Valinor: and when two hundred years had passed since Gondolin was full-wrought, she spoke to Turgon and asked leave to depart. Turgon was loath to grant this, and long denied her; but at the last he yielded, saying: “Go then, if you will though it is against my wisdom, and I forebode that ill will come of it both to you and to me. But you shall go only to seek Fingon, our brother; and those that I send with you shall return hither to Gondolin as swiftly as they may.”

But Aredhel said: “I am your sister and not your servant, and beyond your bounds I will go as seems good to me. And if you begrudge me an escort, then I will go alone.”

Then Turgon answered: “I grudge you nothing that I have. Yet I desire that none shall dwell beyond my walls who know the way hither: and if I trust you, my sister, others I trust less to keep guard on their tongues.”

And Turgon appointed three lords of his household to ride with Aredhel, and he bade them lead her to Fingon in Hithlum, if they might prevail upon her. “And be wary,” he said; “for though Morgoth be yet hemmed in the North there are many perils in Middle-earth of which the Lady knows nothing.” Then Aredhel departed from Gondolin, and Turgon's heart was heavy at her going.

But when she came to the Ford of Brithiach in the River Sirion she said to her companions: “Turn now south and not north, for I will not ride to Hithlum; my heart desires rather to find the sons of Fëanor, my friends of old.” And since she could not be dissuaded they turned south as she commanded, and sought admittance into Doriath. - The Silmarillion, Of Maeglin

As Aredhel points out, the only power over her Turgon has is ordering her to keep the location of his kingdom a secret. And when she wouldn't change her mind, her escort had to do what she said. She had the power, and she knew it.

Another factor is how possessiveness is framed. Eöl and Maeglin are portrayed as villains corrupted by Morgoth, and they are very possessive. Likewise, Thingol's possessiveness of Luthien is damned and leads to catastrophic consequences.

Lúthien indeed was willing to wander in the wild without returning, forgetting house and people and all the glory of the Elf-kingdoms, and for a time Beren was content; but he could not for long forget his oath to return to Menegroth, nor would he withhold Lúthien from Thingol for ever. For he held by the law of Men, deeming it perilous to set at naught the will of the father, save at the last need; and is seemed also to him unfit that one so royal and fair as Lúthien should live always in the woods, as the rude hunters among Men, without home or honour or the fair things which are the delight of the queens of the Eldalië. Therefore after a while he persuaded her, and their footsteps forsook the houseless lands; and he passed into Doriath, leading Lúthien home. So their doom willed it. - The Silmarillion, Of Beren and Lúthien

It is “the law of Men” that believes “it perilous to set at naught the will of the father” - not elven belief.

Also, without getting into the whole controversy of Gil-galad's parentage, one of the main components of Maeglin's tale is that he lusts after the one person who stands between him and the power he craves: “Then the heart of Idril was turned to him, and his to her; and Maeglin’s secret hatred grew ever greater, for he desired above all things to possess her, the only heir of the King of Gondolin.” - The Silmarillion, Of Tuor and the Fall of Gondolin It is stated explicitly that Idril is Turgon's heir.

Also highly relevant is the elven attitude towards fighting. All elves are naturally peaceful, and only fight “at need.” A quote above said that dwarves often fought with each other; but there are only three cases of an elf killing another elf, and they are held as some of the most traumatic and devastating events in elven history (the kinslayings).

Regarding weapons:

While still in his early youth he wedded Nerdanel, the daughter of a great smith named Mahtan, among those of the Noldor most dear to Aulë; and of Mahtan he learned much of the making of things in metal and in stone.

[cut]

The Vanyar indeed held him in suspicion, for they dwelt in the light of the Trees and were content; and to the Teleri he gave small heed, thinking them of little worth, tools too weak for his designs. But the Noldor took delight in the hidden knowledge that he could reveal to them; and some hearkened to words that it would have been better for them never to have heard. Melkor indeed declared afterwards that Fëanor had learned much art from him in secret, and had been instructed by him in the greatest of all his works; but he lied in his lust and his envy, for none of the Eldalië ever hated Melkor more than Fëanor son of Finwë, who first named him Morgoth; and snared though he was in the webs of Melkor's malice against the Valar he held no converse with him and took no counsel from him. - The Silmarillion, Of Fëanor and the Unchaining of Melkor

And when Melkor saw that these lies were smouldering, and that pride and anger were awake among the Noldor, he spoke to them concerning weapons; and in that time the Noldor began the smithying of swords and axes and spears. Shields also they made displaying the tokens of many houses and kindreds that vied one with another; and these only they wore abroad, and of other weapons they did not speak, for each believed that he alone had received the warning. And Fëanor made a secret forge, of which not even Melkor was aware; and there he tempered fell swords for himself and for his sons, and made tall helms with plumes of red. Bitterly did Mahtan rue the day when he taught to the husband of Nerdanel all the lore of metalwork that he had learned of Aulë. - The Silmarillion, Of the Silmarils and the Unrest of the Noldor

But the Teleri withstood him, and cast many of the Noldor into the sea. Then swords were drawn, and a bitter fight was fought upon the ships, and about the lamplit quays and piers of the Haven, and even upon the great arch of its gate.

[cut]

Thus at last the Teleri were overcome, and a great part of their mariners that dwelt in Alqualondë were wickedly slain. For the Noldor were become fierce and desperate, and the Teleri had less strength, and were armed for the most part but with slender bows. - The Silmarillion, Of the Flight of the Noldor

Therefore Thingol took thought for arms, which before his people had not needed, and these at first the Naugrim smithied for him; for they were greatly skilled in such work, though none among them surpassed the craftsmen of Nogrod, of whom Telchar the smith was greatest in renown. A warlike race of old were all the Naugrim, and they would fight fiercely against whomsoever aggrieved them: servants of Melkor, or Eldar, or Avari, or wild beasts, or not seldom their own kin, Dwarves of other mansions and lordships. Their smithcraft indeed the Sindar soon learned of them; yet in the tempering of steel alone of all crafts the Dwarves were never outmatched even by the Noldor, and in the making of mail of linked rings, which was first contrived by the smiths of Belegost, their work had no rival.

At this time therefore the Sindar were well-armed, and they drove off any creatures of evil, and had peace again; but Thingol's armouries were stored with axes and with spears and swords, and tall helms, and long coats of bright mail; for the hauberks of the Dwarves were so fashioned that they rusted not but shone ever as if they were new-burnished. And that proved well for Thingol in the time that was to come. - The Silmarillion, Of the Sindar

Against the words 'Melkor spoke to the Eldar concerning weapons, which they had not before possessed or known' my father wrote on the typescript: 'No! They must have had weapons on the Great Journey.' Cf. the passage in QS on this subject (footnote to §49): 'The Elves had before possessed only weapons of the chase, spears and bows and arrows.' - Morgoth's Ring, Annals of Aman

Tolkien doesn't use gendered terms for the elven armies, and we are given specifics of Galadriel and Idril fighting with swords:

Galadriel: Even after the merciless assault upon the Teleri and the rape of their ships, though she fought fiercely against Fëanor in defence of her mother's kin, she did not turn back. - Unfinished Tales, The History of Galadriel and Celeborn

Now is the face of that chieftain [Tuor] grim and he looks not to live long - and there in his house upon the walls Idril arrays herself in mail, and seeks Eärendel.

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But his mother coming set about him a tiny coat of mail that she had let fashion in secret, and at that time he was glad and exceeding proud, and he shouted in pleasure. Yet Idril wept, for much had she cherished in her heart the fair city and her goodly house, and the love of Tuor and herself that had dwelt therein; but now she saw its destroying night at hand, and feared that her contriving would fail against this overwhelming might of the terror of the serpents.

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Now then Meglin had Idril by the hair and sought to drag her to the battlements out of cruelty of heart, that she might see the fall of Eärendel to the flames; but he was cumbered by that child, and she fought, alone as she was, like a tigress for all her beauty and slenderness.

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When Meglin saw this he would stab Eärendel with a short knife he had; but that child bit his left hand, that his teeth sank in, and he staggered, and stabbed weakly, and the mail of the small coat turned the blade aside; and thereupon Tuor was upon him and his wrath was terrible to see. He seized Meglin by that hand that held the knife and broke the arm with the wrench, and then taking him by the middle leapt with him upon the walls, and flung him far out.

[cut]

Then Tuor and his men must get them to the battle of the Gate, for the noise of it has grown very great, and Tuor has it still in his heart that the city may stand; yet with Idril he left there Voronwë against his will and some other swordsmen to be a guard for her till he returned or might send tidings from the fray.

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Coming now at length to a greater quiet Tuor asked Voronwë for tidings, in that Idril spake not and was well-nigh in a swoon; and Voronwë told him of how she and he had waited before the doors of the house while the noise of those battles grew and shook their hearts; and Idril wept for lack of tidings from Tuor. At length she had sped the most part of her guard down the secret way with Eärendel, constraining them to depart with imperious words, yet was her grief great at that sundering. She herself would bide, said she, nor seek to live after her lord; and then she fared about gathering womenfolk and wanderers and speeding them down the tunnel, and smiting marauders with her small band; nor might they dissuade her from bearing a sword. - The Book of Lost Tales, The Fall of Gondolin

Now, Tolkien wrote this in 1917, and Middle-earth didn't really exist yet; so the gendered pronouns of the warriors should be overlooked. However, he never really revisited the fall of Gondolin, so it's all we have. All I have to say is don't mess with Idril. She got her son out and then went to help her people, telling her guards to stick it.

The anti-fighting belief goes even further than not having weapons before evil came or not killing other elves:

Then Turin took up a drinking-vessel and cast it in Saeros' face, and he fell backward with great hurt; and Turin drew his sword and would have run at him, but Mablung restrained him. Then Saeros rising spat blood upon the board, and spoke as best he could with a broken mouth: “How long shall we harbour this woodwose? Who rules here tonight? The King's law is heavy upon those who hurt his lieges in the hall; and for those who draw blades there outlawry is the least doom. Outside the hall I could answer you, Woodwose!”

But when Turin saw the blood upon the table his mood became cold; and with a shrug he released himself from Mablung and left the hall without a word.

Then Mablung said to Saeros: “What ails you tonight? For this evil I hold you to blame; and maybe the King's law will judge a broken mouth a just return for your taunting.”

“If the cub has a grievance, let him bring it to the King's judgement,” answered Saeros. “But the drawing of swords here is not to be excused for any such cause. Outside the hall, if the woodwose draws on me, I shall kill him.”

“It might well go otherwise,” said Mablung. “But if either be slain it will be an evil deed, more fit for Angband than Doriath, and more evil will come of it. Indeed I feel that some shadow of the North has reached out to touch us tonight. Take heed, Saeros, lest you do the will of Morgoth in your pride, and remember that you are of the Eldar.”

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Mablung was in the forefront of these, and he was troubled in mind, for though the taunting had seemed evil to him, 'malice that wakes in the morning is the mirth of Morgoth ere night'; and it was held moreover a grievous thing to put any of the Elven-folk to shame, self-willed, without the matter being brought to judgement. - The Children of Hurin, Turin in Doriath

Taunting and shaming other elves is considered the work of evil, and not acceptable.

Now, relationships. Elves only fall in love once in their life (technically it is possible for them to fall in love a second time, but we are only given two cases in all of Tolkien's works, and both times there was a greater power at work).

They had few children, but these were very dear to them. Their families, or houses, were held together by love and a deep feeling for kinship in mind and body; and the children needed little governing or teaching.(3)

3. A: 'They had few children, but these were dear to them beyond all else that they possessed. (Though no Elf would speak of possessing children; he would say: "three children have been added unto me", or "are with me", or "are in my house"; for their families were held together...' (the brackets being closed at the words 'or teaching').

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But these ceremonies were not rites necessary to marriage; they were only a gracious mode by which the love of the parents was manifested,(8) and the union was recognized which would join not only the betrothed but their two houses together.

[cut]

In happy days and times of peace it was held ungracious and contemptuous of kin to forgo the ceremonies, but it was at all times lawful for any of the Eldar, both being unwed, to marry thus of free consent one to another without ceremony or witness (save blessings exchanged and the naming of the Name); and the union so joined was alike indissoluble. - Morgoth's Ring, Laws and Customs Among the Eldar

We also have the quote above that states that the “sentiment of affection for sister's children” is the strongest amongst elves.

So. The foundation of elven-kind is memory and emotion. Their souls control their bodies. Elvish memories remain crystal clear, no matter how many decades or centuries pass. They never fade, even the slightest bit. Connected to memory is emotion. Elves feel things in a clearer way. They are ruled by emotion. They can literally just lie down and kill themselves with their mind, if they wish. There is nothing more important to an elf than their relationships, of any kind. Their anti-possessiveness goes so far that they will not even say 'I have two children'. They are naturally peaceful, and consider even taunting as someone being touched by evil. All elves are equal, and nothing is restricted by gender.

This is the polar opposite of dwarven culture.

So, how do Tauriel and Kili fit into this? (for evidence of everything I'm about to say, see my Tauriel essay and my Kili essay)

Let's start with Kili. He is a complete cultural anomaly. Kili doesn't have that internal sense of dwarven pride. He is very open-minded, and exemplifies the saying, “A stranger is just a friend you haven't met yet.” He is genuinely curious and admiring of Bilbo and his house. Kili also defends him and shows faith in him by betting on him. Though raised on the evilness of elves, Kili doesn't have any prejudice or dislike for them. He sees Tauriel as a breathtaking and awe-inspiring being far above him while never showing the slightest hint of jealousy or possessiveness towards her, and has thought about the nature of nature; thus contradicting everything dwarven culture believes in. He follows his heart and morals no matter what. He is amazingly resilient and light-hearted; even though he does have a self-esteem issue. No one ever believes me when I say Kili has a slight self-esteem issue, but he does. He hides his negative emotions and has a very hard time holding grudges (which dwarven culture exalts).

Kili shows this several times – after being completely humiliated in front of the entire Company he just says “funny” and looks down (being hurt and vulnerable instead of getting angry and lashing out), and immediately joins in the food fight; he immediately lightens the conversation after telling Tauriel about his promise to his mother; he continues to play down his injury even after Thorin tells him he doesn't get to continue on the quest; he doesn't want Fili to defend him to Thorin but drop it and go with the others; and he makes his dazed speech about Tauriel.

Kili also never appears emotionally invested in fighting – he explores and complements Bilbo's house while Fili is lovingly taking out his weapons. In Mirkwood, Kili doesn't just ignore the disappearance of his weapons; he starts fancying Tauriel because of her impressive skill when she saved his life, and smiles softly after her retort. According to his culture, she has just emasculated him at least twice; and his reaction is not to get angry, but to fall in love with her. He is perfectly comfortable with being the more feminine one in their relationship.

We see in Rivendell just how quickly Kili's 'abnormality' is dealt with – Dwalin publicly humiliates Kili immediately when he catches Kili in awe of elven beauty.  

Overall, Kili's personality is much more elven than dwarven.

Now, Tauriel. She is Thranduil's foster daughter and Legolas’s best friend/honorary sister. We see over and over that the only people of higher rank are Thranduil and Legolas. However, we only see Legolas co-lead a patrol, give a few small and isolated orders, hold and interrogate the orc at Thranduil's cue, and convey Thranduil's orders to their people. It is Tauriel who has to give Thranduil the report on the spiders and is immediately given charge when the dwarves escape. She is the one who essentially is Thranduil's second hand; at least in matters of security (I'm sure he has a steward as well).  Legolas is more of a follower than a leader, and that explains why he does not seem to have any other role than that of Prince. Tauriel is a natural leader; and scared of her love for Kili, she hides behind her strong sense of duty. She also cannot turn away from Thranduil - Kili's life is in danger, and yet Tauriel doesn't go after him. She goes to confront Thranduil. Thranduil, for his part, realizes just how badly he's messed up when Tauriel and Legolas leave him heartbroken in Dale.

Even if the dwarves could get past her essentially being Thranduil's daughter, she would still never be accepted because the basis of her very being is not accepted – being a leader and a warrior. Kili himself is not wholly accepted by his people; he hides parts of himself to avoid being taunted and shamed.

I'm not saying that Thorin would turn his back on Kili – after the dragon sickness, I think it likely he would grudgingly accept Kiliel. But he is the King, and he is constrained by his people and culture.

While the elves don't like the dwarves any more than the dwarves like them, they would understand that Kili's it for Tauriel, and the grief mortality brings to the relationship. Tauriel fits perfectly in her culture, and seems well liked. Her people would likely care about her happiness. And personality wise, Kili would honestly fit better with the elves. They would most likely see that.

[garden-ghoul]

appendix blog, part 3

“working out... is.... good?”

Hey so I’m skipping Eorl, I already blogged him, or at least I read him. I don’t conceptually separate those processes any more, thanks fiends. I, uh, I meant to type friends there but let’s call it a Freudian typo.

Ah fuck yes after the list of Rohirrim kings it’s time for DURIN’S FOLK

So “Durin is the name that the Dwarves used for the eldest of the Seven Fathers of their race.” Are we ever going to hear about the other six fathers, or is it one of those things where dwarves are extremely close-mouthed about it and only Durin, who they cannot ever shut up about, is ever mentioned near other races?

Durin “slept alone” until the awakening of his people. Did all dwarves sleep alone? Is this a gem kindergarten situation? Please say yes. Please say there is a Durin-shaped hole somewhere that is only known to dwarves and they like, sometimes try to fit themselves into it. The one who is the same size and shape as the original Durin becomes Durin the N+1th. “This hole was made for me,” he declares, and fits himself into it. Everyone cheers, and then they fish him out with a hook before he can slide too far into the mountain. Anyway during the time of Durin VI the dwarves, who are in an absolutely defensible position but are too bored to stop mining, wake up a balrog and have to flee. Durin VI’s son Nain goes to Erebor and finds a very nice rock; most of the Khazad-dum dwarves go to the Grey Mountains in the north, because exploring is fun and profitable! Unfortunately north of the mountain everything is full of dragons. “At last Dáin I, together with Frór his second son, was slain at the door of his hall by a great cold-drake.” I really like the implication I just made up, that the north is full of dragons because they migrated from Angband.

BTW Dain’s other sons are Thror and Gror. Apparently there’s something absolutely essential about the fabric of Ea that makes all peoples independently name their kids dumb themed names. Someone during the Song of Songs or w/e they’re calling it these days accidentally kept repeating one of their trills and it became a line of code essential to the nature of life. Fuck this.

Thror goes to Erebor again, and he makes lots of friendly alliances with other dwarf clans and the humans who live near Erebor (’northmen’). UNFORTUNATELY you cannot have a great and extremely wealthy time around here without a dragon hearing about it, so Smaug the Golden comes to say hi. Thrain II and his dad Thror (original flavor) flee in secret, and then Thror goes into Khazad-dum (possibly it was a suggestion of his Ring). Thror’s bff creeps over to the doors of Khazad-dum and a bunch of orcs are hiding behind the doorframe with Thror’s corpse, presumably working his jaw like a puppet, and laughing their asses off. Written on Thror’s face is the word AZOG. He is king of Khazad-dum now. Thror’s bff tries to take his body for burial, but the orcs throw a sack of small change at his head. It sounds pretty funny to me, but for Nar it’s probably a horrifying parody of a weregild, and an insult. When he looks back, the orcs are hacking up Thror’s body to feed to the local crows. Omg I hope orcs and crows are friends.

Thrain and Nar muster a ton of dwarves to fight, because this will not be borne. They cut through most of the orc strongholds like butter BUT Azog has been saving his strength in Khazad-dum. “So began the Battle of Azanulbizar, at the memory of which the Orcs still shudder and the Dwarves weep.” I LOVE. The fact that absolutely everyone who was involved with this battle in any way has inherited trauma about it. War is no good for anyone at all! Azog has a jolly old time doing murders, until he realizes that HIS guys are actually getting more murdered! He kills Nain and laughs at him, but Nain’s son Dain unexpectedly kills him. It’s accounted extremely heroic, because Dain is like, 16 in dwarf years. It says that “long life and many battles lay before him, until old but unbowed he fell at last in the War of the Ring.” Wait um. Do you mean... the one that takes place in Lord of the Rings? Were dwarves fighting in that?? This is taking place WAY after the Last Alliance isn’t it?? No okay I looked at the end and found the answer, which is that the War of the Ring actually was like 100 years long but relatively low-intensity for most of it.

Anyway,

When at last the battle was won the Dwarves that were left gathered in Azanulbizar. They took the head of Azog and thrust into its mouth the purse of small money, and then they set it on a stake. But no feast nor song was there that night; for their dead were beyond the count of grief. Barely half of their number, it is said, could still stand or had hope of healing.  

Half of everyone is dead or dying, and the dwarf alliance still uses their last bit of energy to be petty. Iconic.

Thrain wants to claim Khazad-dum and live there, but everyone else flat-out refuses. Still a balrog in there, dude! I mean, it didn’t bother the orcs, though. I don’t think balrogs really discriminate between orcs and other sorts of dudes, so maybe they could sneak up and kill it in its sleep! But Dain says that the world must change and some other power come before Durin’s folk will live again in Moria. That was Gandalf, right? He did slay the balrog. I hope the dwarves can come back now in the fourth age!! It’s going to take so much fixing up but like... it still exists, mostly intact. A chance to reclaim their heritage.

Thrain and his son Thorin go into exile with the few people who will still follow him--almost everyone is pissed that he got their entire families killed and they can’t even go get treasure in Khazad-dum. So Thrain and co settle in the east of Ered Luin. There’s a bit here about how the Seven Rings turned out to be totally pointless for Sauron because you simply Cannot enslave dwarves.  “They were made from their beginning of a kind to resist most steadfastly any domination. Though they could be slain or broken, they could not be reduced to shadows enslaved to another will.” I love the implication that because dwarves were sculpted--note that we never hear AFAIK what elves or humans are made of!--they are more substantial and solid. Mmm I think they have a super solid connection to Arda, and just as even Arda Marred is still largely influenced by the Valar dwarves cannot be wholly corrupted. IDK it’s just the,,, shadow vs stone thing. Sauron enslaves people and it destroys their substance. Dwarves are too substantial? Someone help me out here.

Thrain is still influenced by the Ring, though, driven to go in search of Erebor and its treasure again.  

As soon as he was abroad with few companions he was hunted by the emissaries of Sauron. Wolves pursued him, Orcs waylaid him, evil birds shadowed his path, and the more he strove to go north the more misfortunes opposed him. There came a dark night when he and his companions were wandering in the land beyond Anduin, and they were driven by a black rain to take shelter under the eaves of Mirkwood. In the morning he was gone from the camp, and his companions called him in vain...

I love how fairy-tale-ish this passage is. Wolves pursued him! Evil birds shadowed his path! He vanished utterly into air! Sauron was the boojum all along! I’m jazzed about this. Less jazzed about the following explanation: he was kidnapped and tortured in Dol Guldur. Whatever, I guess.

Meanwhile Thorin, who is now king, hammers away on his anvil. It will keep his arm strong. Hella.

Thorin meets Gandalf by accident in an inn in Bree and is like “hey I have been having dreams about you, that’s pretty weird right?” “No no,” says Gandalf, “actually I have been dreaming about you too.” And THAT is how The Hobbit happened.

Wait omg it says here Fili and Kili are Thorin’s “sister-sons.” THIS IMPLIES THE EXISTENCE OF A SECOND DWARF GENDER... WTF... don’t fucking toy with my heart like this Johnald. AH--

Dís was the daughter of Thráin II. She is the only dwarf-woman named in these histories. It was said by Gimli that there are few dwarf-women, probably no more than a third of the whole people. They seldom walk abroad except at great need. They are in voice and appearance, and in garb if they must go on a journey, so like to the dwarf-men that the eyes and ears of other peoples cannot tell them apart. This has given rise to the foolish opinion among Men that there are no dwarf-women, and that the Dwarves 'grow out of stone'. 

 It is because of the fewness of women among them that the kind of the Dwarves increases slowly, and is in peril when they have no secure dwellings. For Dwarves take only one wife or husband each in their lives, and are jealous, as in all matters of their rights. The number of dwarf-men that marry is actually less than one-third. For not all the women take husbands: some desire none; some desire one that they cannot get, and so will have no other.

Why did they even mention Dis? She doesn’t do anything. I’m retconning, this, obviously. Dwarves just have a super low fertility rate, and woman gender is one of those things that like... doesn’t translate well. There’s no woman gender, because dwarves haven’t invented gender. There’s just dwarves who are currently capable of bearing children. I can’t remember if I got this from Pratchett or not, but it’s a good chance. I just really like the idea that dwarves kind of nod and smile uncertainly when asked to understand a culture that has genders. “Humans really do have an exceptionally high fertility rate,” murmurs one to another. “A lot of ‘women.’” “One just can’t keep track of them,” sighs the other. This is kind of incoherent because Tolkien is actively trying to ruin it, but whatever. Moving on.

After the fall of Sauron, Gimli brought south a part of the Dwarf-folk of Erebor, and he became Lord of the Glittering Caves. He and his people did great works in Gondor and Rohan. For Minas Tirith they forged gates of mithril and steel to replace those broken by the Witch-king. Legolas his friend also brought south Elves out of Greenwood, and they dwelt in Ithilien, and it became once again the fairest country in all the westlands.

Nice! Gay! Also holy shit, mithril gates. Where the hell did they get all that. Hey maybe Sauron had a huge stockpile of mithril and some people went to sift thru the wreckage of Mordor and reclaim it. Radical.

We have heard tell that Legolas took Gimli Glóin's son with him because of their great friendship, greater than any that has been between Elf and Dwarf. If this is true, then it is strange indeed: that a Dwarf should be willing to leave Middle-earth for any love, or that the Eldar should receive him, or that the Lords of the West should permit it.

Hey. Hey. That’s gay.

[ruthoakenshield]

Worthless Little Shadow (chapter 7)

Worthless Little Shadow (Chapter 6)

As they finish their conversation, a knock is heard at the door. Dis gets up and answers it. She closes the door and comes back to the table. "Thorin is ready for the council meeting. You boys had better get going." she tells them. "Balin, I will send the raven to go inquire and search for the two guards who helped Shadow escape." she tells him.

Balin nods. "You two ladies have a lovely day. We will see you both for lunch." Balin tells them as he gets up. He comes over to Shadow and gives her a wink. "Don't worry about how this will turn out, Lass. You are welcome here and we will not send you back to your father, nor will we send you out of the mountain. Spend the day with Dis and have her show you around the mountain until Dwalin or I have some free time. I'm afraid Thorin will keep these two lads busy for a while until we can get this all worked out and can prove to him your story is true." Balin tells her as he gives her a small hug.

She looks up at his face and gives him a small smile. "Thank you Master Balin for your help and your kindness." Shadow says quietly. "Any time, Lass. I am here if you ever want someone to talk with." he says and pats her cheek affectionately.

Balin heads for the door, "Come on Gents, lets get going." he says. Dwalin comes over and gives Shadow a smile. "It's good to finally hear ya talkin' Lass. I hope ye will sing for us again sometime." he says with a twinkle in his eye. Shadow blushes and says, "We shall see, Master Dwalin." he grins and gives her a wink and a pat on the shoulder, then heads over to his brother.

Kili gets up and comes over to Shadow. "Don't worry, Little Shadow, everything will work out. Just keep being you and give Uncle time to warm up to you." he says and gives her a hug. She smiles and hugs him back. "Thank you, Kee for finding me and helping me." she says quietly. He puts his head to hers and says, "You make my brother happier than I have ever seen him. I am glad he found his One and I can't wait to have you as a sister!" he grins.

Shadow chuckles and Kili heads for the door.

Fili stands up last and just looks at Shadow for a moment. He takes her hands and kisses each of them then holds them to his chest. "I wish I didn't have to go to these meetings today. I had wanted to show you around Erebor when we got back." he sighs. Shadow puts her forehead against his.

"You can show me your favourite haunts perhaps when you finish for the day. I am in no hurry, my love, I will wait for you however long I have to." she tells him.

Fili sighs and looks into her green eyes. "I love you SO much Ghishavel, thank you for not running when you realized who I was." he tells her quietly. She giggles.

"Well I couldn't exactly run when you had me in a tight grip on your pony." she replies.

Fili grins. "Stay with me always?" he asks her. "Yes, my Lion Prince, I will stay with you always." she tells him and kisses him so soundly that he is left speechless.

 They hear chuckling from behind them and Kili calls out, "Come on 'Lion Prince', get your rear in gear or Uncle will have your head for making us late for council." Dwalin and Balin chuckle and Fili gives Shadow a peck on the cheek and heads out to the meeting.

Dis chuckles as she watches the interaction between her oldest son and his love. It reminds her of her late husband. Fili looks a lot like him and she sees a lot of her in Shadow. She comes over to Shadow after the Dwarrow leave and she says, "Come, lets go for a walk and I will show you some of Erebor while we talk and get to know each other better." Shadow smiles and nods.

The two dwarrowdams head into the hallway and Dis introduces Shadow to the guards who were assigned to protect her room. They smile politely and welcome her to Erebor. Then Dis shows Shadow to the throne room and lets her look around. After that, she takes them to the market place and they have fun wandering the market and admiring all the wares. Dis takes Shadow over to her favourite corsetmaker and insists on getting several more corsets in various colors to go with the dresses the dwarves bought for her. "They don't understand some of the things we ladies need." she chuckles. Then they head over to the booth that sells undergarments and night clothes. Dis helps Shadow pick out more underclothes and some night gowns. Then they head to the food vendors and grab some fruit and cheese, honey cakes  and a bottle of mead and head out of the market.

Dis takes her to the library and grins when she sees Shadow's face light up a the mention of Erebor having a library. "Do you enjoy reading?" Dis asks. Shadow smiles a big smile and says, "Yes, I did a lot of reading when I was locked in my rooms." Dis introduces Shadow to Ori, who shows them around the library and explains how things are organized and what all he has done to restore the library. Shadow is amazed by it all and is quick to praise him for all his hard work and how lovely the library looks. 

Ori blushes at the praise and thanks her. He shows them to a table and lets them sit and talk and eat their mid morning snack. "Shadow, what are the names of the guards who helped you escape?" Dis asks as they eat. Shadow tells her and sighs. "I wonder if they are even alive any more. Father doesn't suffer those who betray him to live for very long. Father pretends to be kind and good natured on the outside, but once he lets you into his inner circle, he reveals how mean and cruel he truly is. I doubt he even bothered to search for me. He always told me I was worthless and good for nothing. He blamed mother for me being a girl and not a boy. As if she had any control over it." Shadow said sadly.

Dis sighed. "I am so sorry you were treated like that. When Thorin finds out what has happened to you, I'm sure he will not be happy and will understand why you ran. One thing he does not tolerate is a woman of any race being improperly treated and abused. You will be safe here, Sweetheart, if anyone ever raises a hand to you in anger he and my boys will see that they are punished severely. The dwarves of this community do not tolerate abuse of our women." Dis assures Shadow. 

"Were you close to your mother?" Dis asks. Shadow nods. "Yes, I miss her terribly. She would've loved my room. Amethysts were her favourite. They remind me of her." Shadow tells her. "She hated the name father chose for me." Shadow says. "Amad always told me I was NOT worthless and that I was NOT good for nothing. She always told me she wanted to name me, Davi, which means 'cherished'. She always called me that when Adad was not around. 

"Shadow, which name would you rather be called. It seems my boys' nickname is what Dwalin and the boys refer to you as, but that was because no one knew your real name. You won't be able to go by that though once you are introduced to Thorin, the council, and the mountain as Fili's intended. How would you like to be called? Raca or Davi?" Dis asks. 

"I can choose?" Shadow asks as she looks at Dis in wonder. Dis chuckles, "Yes, my dear, you can choose. If there is a different name you wish to be called in public, then let me know." Shadow thinks for a bit. She considers what Dis just told her about how dwarves here view their women. "Dis, do you think Fili would like it if I was called Davi?" She asks.

Dis gives her a warm smile, "He would love it, Sweetheart. Since he does obviously cherish you!" Dis replies. 

"Then I would like to be known as Davi." Shadow informs Dis. Dis nods, "What would you like as a surname?" Dis asks. "I don't know." Shadow replies. 

"What was your mother's name?" Dis asks. "Lenora Ironshield" Shadow replies. Dis' eyes get huge. "Your mother was Lenora Ironshield?!?" Shadow looks confused and nods.

Dis thinks a moment. Then she says, "Normally when a Dwarrow or Dwarrowdam is introduced formally, her first name, surname, and family lineage and titles are given. Thorin's is: Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, Son of Thror, King under the Mountain. But for you, I will make a case we use your mother's side since your father has behaved so poorly. If you wished to disown him, no one would bat an eye about it and you would still be considered a princess through your mother's lineage. I remember hearing about her once, before she met your adad.  She was a highly respected Dwarrowdam in her former community. I am surprised her father agreed to the marriage. Had he known what he was putting her into, he never would've agreed to the marriage." Dis tells Shadow.

"So let's have you introduced as: Davi, daughter of Lenora Ironshield, queen of the Rhun Mountains, granddaughter of Dolana Lavafist, queen of the Iron Mountain, and intended of Fili, son of Dis and nephew of Thorin, King under the Mountain." Dis suggests.

Shadow's face lights up and she nods. "I like that. We can figure out a surname for me later, I've done nothing noteworthy deserving one." she tells Dis. 

"Come, let's go send a raven to look for your guard friends." Dis says and they pack up their snack and thank Ori for showing them the library and Dis takes Shadow out to Raven Hill to send the bird to find her friends and see if they are alive.

Davi is amazed at the size of the birds. "I never realized how large the Ravens of Erebor are! They are such beautiful birds!" Davi exclaimed. A few of the ravens squawk and one hops onto Davi's shoulder and preens her hair adjusting one of the flower pins Dis had put into it. Davi freezes when the bird hops onto her shoulder and she looks at Dis a little frightened. Dis chuckles. "Loni said your hair pin was coming out and he decided to fix it for you." Dis explained. Loni rubs his head against Davi's face affectionately. Davi chuckles and says, "Thank you Loni. You are a nice raven." It squawks something to Dis and Dis chuckles. "Loni wants to know why you are so thin." she says. 

"Loni, my father rules the Rhun Mountains. He is a horribly cruel dwarf and abused both my mother and I. When my mother died, he locked me in my rooms and starved me. That is why I am so thin. Two guards, who were friends of mine, helped me to escape. That is why we sent the raven to search for them. If they are still alive, I want them to come here and be my guards as a reward for their help." Davi explains. 

Loni squawks again and rubs against Davi. Dis chuckles. "Loni wants to know if he can be your raven. He likes you and wants to stay with you if you will allow." Dis explains. Davi looks up at Dis confused. "Why? I can not understand what he is saying unless you translate for me. How did you learn what they say?" Davi asks.

Dis chuckles. "It is something those of the line of Durin are able to understand. Once you marry into the line of Durin, Mahal will bless you with the ability so you and Fili can communicate by sending messages to each other using the ravens if you are separated for a time. He will eventually have to do trade negotiations with other kingdoms and things like that and won't always be at your side. He will need you to run things with Kili's help while he is gone." Dis explains. 

"Oh." Davi says quietly. Loni rubs against her cheek and squawks quietly. Dis giggles. "He wants to know if you are going to marry Fili and be queen one day." Dis says. 

Davi giggles. "We will see, Loni. He only just asked to court me this morning." Davi explains. Loni flutters his wings and preens making Davi giggle. "What are you doing, Loni?" She asks. He squawks again and Dis translates. "He is preening so he looks nice for you." she chuckles. 

Davi blushes and asks, "May I pet you Loni?" He looks at her and bobs his head. Davi reaches up and gently touches his head. He closes his eyes and makes a funny little sound. Davi runs her fingers down his back and gently pets his wings. "Oooh! Your feathers are SO soft!!!" she says. Loni perks up his head and puffs his chest feathers out. Dis chuckles. "You just gave him a very high compliment." she tells Davi. 

Davi giggles. "Would you like to join us as we walk around Erebor, Loni?" she asks. Loni bobbs his head and stays perched on her shoulder as Dis leads them out of Raven Hill. They make their way back after telling the guard to send word to them immediately when the raven returns with news of the guards. He nods and they head back into Erebor. They talk with each other and Loni as Dis translates for Davi when Loni wants to tell Davi something. 

They walk around the halls and Dis shows Davi some of her favourite places. They stop in the grand ball room and the music hall. Loni asks if Davi can play any instruments or sing. She giggles and tells them she sings and plays the harp. Loni fluffs up and asks if she will play and sing them something. Davi nods and they walk into the music hall. Dis shows Davi one of the gold harps and Loni hops onto the top of it and watches as Davi sits and makes sure the harp is in tune. Then he flies down to her shoulder again and nestles into her neck. 

She sings the song she sang earlier. The one her mother sang to her as a babe. The music and her beautiful voice flowing out through the doorway and into the halls of Erebor. Everyone who hears it pauses and closes their eyes, mesmerized by the haunting voice and melody. Thorin hears it in the Council chambers and stands. He hollers for them to be silent so he can hear it clearly. Dwalin and Balin grin, knowing who's voice it is. Fili's jaw drops when he hears it and Kili smirks.  They are all surprised when Thorin gets up and walks out of the council chambers without another word. He follows the sound of the music and his nephews and Balin and Dwalin also join him in the hall. The music and voice stop however, before he can find out where it came from. 

Thorin looks around, frowning hoping the music starts up again, but it doesn't. He growls and heads back towards the council chambers. Kili and Fili, Balin and Dwalin all smirking behind him.

When Davi finishes the song and leans the harp back into it's position, Loni nuzzles his head against her neck and squawks quietly in almost a purr. Dis giggles and tells Davi, "Loni says you have a voice like a beautiful songbird. He says he has never heard anything so beautiful before and that he hopes you sing more often." Davi blushes and pets Loni again. 

"Thank you Loni. That song was one my mother sang to me when I was but a little dwarrow pebble." Davi explains. Loni makes another sound and Dis says, "He wants to know if you know any other songs." Davi nods and says yes, but I don't want to sing any more right now. Can we see some more of Erebor?" Davi asks. Dis nods. 

Dis leads them out of the music hall and down further. They can hear hollering and yelling and Thorin's booming voice coming from behind one of the doors. Davi looks at Dis with a frown. Dis chuckles, "That is the Council Chambers." she says. "You will find that is a common sound coming from there on a daily basis." she tells Davi. Davi huffs, "Not if I can help it." she mumbles. Dis chuckles. "When Fili is king, You and he will be in there and can handle them however you like." Dis says with a chuckle. 

She begins to walk again and Loni looks around as he perches on Davi's shoulder. They walk down some steps and Dis leads them to the royal Bath house. She shows Davi where to go to change and tells Loni to wait in the hallway. Loni does and once they have changed and wrapped in a towel, she calls him to enter. He perches on Davi's shoulder again, careful not to sink his claws into her bare shoulder. He flies onto one of the benches and turns to face away from them when they settle on a pool to enter and slide out of their towels and slip into the pool. 

Loni hops over to them and perches on the edge of the pool next to Davi. Dis and Loni and Davi talk for a while and enjoy each other's company. After a bit, their bellies begin to grumble. "Loni, will you go see if it is time for lunch? We will go change and meet you in the hallway outside the bathhouse." She tells him. He squawks and flies off. "What did he say?" Davi asked as they got out of the pool and wrapped up in towels. 

"He just said, 'as my ladies wish'." Dis said. "Come, let's see what Bombur made for lunch for us." They both giggled as their stomachs made funny noises as they dressed. 

They entered the hallway and Loni flew down onto Davi's shoulder. He squawked and then nestled down onto Davi's shoulder and leaned against her neck. She giggled. "I love your soft feathers, Loni." she said as she reached up and petted him. He made his funny purr sound. Dis chuckled. "He likes your soft hair and warm skin." she tells Davi. "Loni said that everyone is meeting in the Royal dining chambers for lunch. So we had better go meet them there." Dis informs Davi.

They head for the Dining hall and Davi stops at the door. "Dis, will Loni be allowed into the dining hall? I don't want to upset Thorin. He already seems to dislike me." Davi asked nervously. 

"Loni will be fine, Davi. Thorin will understand. His raven followed him all over Erebor for months until they got used to each other. That raven can find him in the deepest parts of the mountain faster than anyone." she tells them. Loni squawks and nestles Davi's hair making her giggle. "Will you sit on my shoulder while we're eating though?" she asks him. He squawks and shakes his head. "No, he says he will sit on the back of your chair so you don't upset anyone." Dis tells you. 

Dis, Loni, and Davi enter the dining hall and everyone looks up. Thorin is scowling and his eyes open wide when he sees a raven on Little Shadow's shoulder. Fili grins and comes walking over. 

"Well hello there my beauties!" he tells the three of you. Dis chuckles and gives him a hug. "We went to Raven Hill and sent the raven to find the two guards. Loni here decided to be Davi's raven." she tells her son. He looks confused. "Davi? Amad, I thought you said her name was Raca?" Fili asked. Davi giggled. "It is, Fili, but my father picked the name. My mother hated it because he chose the name to spite me. Mother always wanted my name to be Davi because she cherished me. She knew dwarrowdams were rare and that I was not worthless like my father thought. I decided I no longer want to be called Raca. I want to be known as Davi." Davi explained. 

Fili grinned, realizing the significance of the name change. He nods, "Davi it is then." he says and give you a peck on the cheek. He reaches out to give Loni a pet. "Hello Loni. Are you enjoying your new friend?" he asks the bird. It squawks and rubs against Davi and she giggles. Fili grins. "Well good. I'm glad you like her. You are welcome to be hers till the end of your days." he tells the bird. The bird bows and gives a quiet, short squawk. Then nuzzles against Davi. 

Fili chuckles and takes Davi's hand and leads her to the table. Thorin watches the whole exchange silently and looks at Dis with a raised eyebrow. She glares at him and silently tells him to keep his trap shut about it. He frowns and nods. He watches as Fili leads Davi to the table and motions for her to sit between him and Kili. Loni hops onto the back of the chair and Kili looks up and grins. He reaches up and pets Loni. "Heya Loni! You hungry?" he asks. The bird squawks quietly and Kili chuckles. "She doesn't know about that yet. We'll make sure to tell her though." he tells the bird. It squawks again quietly and Kili chuckles. 

Bombur and his crew bring out the food and everyone is served. Fili leans over to Davi and tells her, "You look stunning in that dress, my Love. Loni says it is the Raven's favourite color on you." Davi giggles and blushes. "He is so soft. I love feeling his feathers rub against my neck when he nuzzles me." she says quietly. Fili chuckles. "Don't forget to give him treats. That's how you keep them happily serving you for their whole life." he suggests. 

Davi looks surprised. "Fili, what do they like for treats?" she asks.

"They will eat almost anything. Bugs, worms, any kind of meat scraps, but sweet berries are a treat for them and will keep them especially happy." he says grinning. 

Davi nods. She picks a blueberry off her plate and hands it to Loni. "Here, Loni. Have a treat. You've been good company for me and Dis this morning." she says. Loni makes his purring sound and gently takes the berry and flies down to the floor to munch on it. 

Thorin rolls his eyes and looks at Dis. She glares at him and raises an eyebrow. He sighs and goes back to eating. The boys ask what all they did this morning and Dis shares what they saw and did. When she mentions the music room, Thorin's ears perk up. "What were you doing in the music room?" he asks. 

"Loni wanted to know if I played an instrument or sang, sir." Davi said shyly. "So I showed them what I could play. He asked me to sing for him and Dis, so I did while I played." she says. "I'm sorry if I wasn't supposed to be in there. I thought it was okay since Dis showed me it." she apologized quietly. 

Thorin's eyes got huge. He looked at Dis who was giving him a stern look. "It is fine. What do you play, if I might ask?" Thorin said, curious now. 

"The harp." Davi replies quietly. "Thorin looks over at Fili wide eyed. Fili just smirks. "And do you sing well?" Thorin asks. 

"I sing, Sir. Whether it is well or not, I do not know. Loni and Dis seemed to like it." Davi replied shyly. Loni flies over to Thorin and lands on the arm of his chair. He squawks quietly to the king for a moment and then Thorin's eyes get big. He nods and gives Loni a piece of meat from his plate and Loni flies off to the floor to eat it. 

"Your raven has said he wished to be your personal raven and that you have accepted him." Thorin says to Davi. She nods. "Is that ok, sir?" she asks. Thorin nods. "If Fili is in agreement, it is fine with me." he says. Your raven says you sing beautifully. Will you sing and play something for us when we finish eating?" Thorin asks. 

Davi looks panicked for a moment, but Dis, Fili, Balin, Dwalin and Kili all grin and nod. Davi looks back at Thorin and nods. "If that is your wish, I will sing and play you something." she says quietly. Thorin nods. 

There is a knock on the dining hall's door and Dwalin gets up to answer it. He returns with a large, old raven on his arm and he brings it over to Dis. The raven hops onto her arm and squawks quietly into her ear. Her eyes get huge and she looks at Dwalin and Davi. "What is it, Dis?" Davi asks. 

"The guards are still serving your father and have read the message from the raven. He says he sat on a tree nearby listening to the guards talking until he found the two we sent him to find. He said they are the only ones who read the message. They told him they would be happy to come serve at Erebor, but we will have to request their services before they could leave. 

Thorin looks confused. "Dwalin why was a raven sent to look for two guards? What is all this about?" he asks frowning. Dis looks up at Dwalin, who nods and she begins to tell Thorin what all they discovered this morning. Thorin is irate that anyone would treat one dwarrowdam that horribly, but two treated like that he was absolutely livid. Especially when he finds out who her mother is.

It took a stern look from Dis to finally silence him enough for her to finish her explanation of how these two guards are eye witnesses to what happened to Davi and her mother.  She explains that if Davi's father finds out these two guards are the ones who helped her escape, that they would be put to death instantly. 

Thorin frowned. "Davi, why would these guards risk their lives and the wrath of their king to help you escape an arranged marriage that would take you away from your father's abusiveness?" he asked. 

"Because they disliked what my father had done to my mother and I. They faithfully served my father only because of their concern for my mother and I. None of us knew anything about the prince I was arranged to marry. The guards knew my parent's marriage was an arranged one, they witnessed the abuse my mother and I both suffered at his hands. It angered them to see us treated the way we were, but there was little they could do to stop it. The guards did not wish that kind of an arranged marriage for me and knew I feared that kind of marriage more than anything. I asked them to help me escape and they did. Had I been allowed to converse with Fili ahead of time, I would not have ran and willingly married him and been happy to get away from my father, but I was not allowed to know anything about him or even who he was!" Davi explained. “My father will pass the kingship to my cousin since my father has no sons. My cousin hates how I and my mother were treated and I believe the soldiers who helped me escape must still be serving Adad because they hoped to hear how I fared or else they await the day my cousin assumes the throne and this rule from hell ends with my father's death. 

Thorin growled. "I see. And now you want me to request these two guards come serve here where they could help you escape again?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.  "Sir, I have no desire to run away from here. I have been treated with nothing but kindness by your family and the servants." Davi replied. "I promise you they will be your faithful and loyal servants. I just ask you treat them well. They have been through enough as have I." Davi pleads. 

Thorin nodded and rubbed his beard. "Dwalin what are your plans for these two guards should I agree to this?" Thorin asked. 

"They are to be Davi's and Fili's personal guards." Dwalin replied. "They are loyal to her and have already agreed to come should they be summoned." 

"I will think on the matter." Thorin replied. 

"I see you wear Fili's courting braids and beads. Have you agreed to the arranged marriage, then?" Thorin asks Davi.

She looks over at Fili, and he sees fear in her eyes. He quickly gives her hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze. She calms and he turns to his uncle. "We have decided to court, Uncle. I wish to marry her, but am leaving it up to her. She has been through enough abuse and mistrust, I want to give her time to get used to me and my family and Erebor. If at the end of the courting timeframe, she decides not to marry me, I will let her go. If she decides she wishes to marry me, then we will let you know." he tells his uncle. 

Thorin frowns. "Fili, we made an agreement with her father..." Thorin starts to say. "And her father broke that agreement, Uncle, and didn't have the decency to notify us until I was half way there! He released me from the agreement, let us keep the dowry and told me I was free to marry whom I wished." Fili reminded Thorin. 

Thorin growled. "And what am I supposed to tell the Council when they find out the missing princess is here? What am I supposed to tell her father?" Thorin asked. 

Davi's eyes got huge and she looked at Fili with such terror in her face he feared she would bolt. He calmly stood and took her hand. He pulled her into his embrace and held her trembling body. 

"Now is not the time for this Uncle." He said and calmly ushered Davi out of the room. Loni saw them head for the door and he flew over to them and rode on Fili's shoulder as they left. 

Once they were out of the room, Fili ushered Davi to a nearby balcony that over looked the western slope of Erebor. He sat with her and let her cry. He held her and told her he would handle this with Thorin. He asked her what she wanted them to do about her father. She told them not to tell him she was found until the two soldiers were safely in Erebor. She told him to have Thorin request their permanent presence here in the mountain to guard the Crown Prince and his One Immediately. She suggested they send the same raven back to her friends with a message that she is safe and happy in Erebor. That she is Prince Fili's One and she is requesting them to come guard her and her Prince immediately, but not to tell anyone but the two guards and that no one but the two guards see this message. 

Fili agrees to tell Thorin. Loni hops down onto Davi's lap and nuzzles her hand. He squawks quietly and Fili chuckles. Davi looks up at him and Fili tells her, "Loni hopes you still choose to stay here in Erebor and that he hopes you will give Dis time to make Thorin come around."

Davi giggles. Fili stands and tells Loni to stay here with Davi for a moment. He goes back into the Dining Hall and tells his mother what Davi said. She nods and starts railing on Thorin. He growls back at her and she gets fed up and grabs him by the ear and drags him out the door. He is growling at her and yelling at her to let go of him. She winks at Davi as they walk by. Davi looks confused. Fili comes back to Davi and everyone from the dining hall is following Dis, knowing what is coming and wanting to see it happen. Fili whispers to Davi and explains what happened after they left and what is going to happen. She giggles. 

They follow to the practice arena and Dis kicks everyone else out except those from the dining hall who followed them. Everyone sits in the royal box to watch the entertainment. Dis rails at Thorin telling him what an idiot he is being and so on. She presents her case to Thorin and requests he allow her son to court Davi. He grumbles about it and she goes at him with her Battle axes. He defends himself with his sword and they go round and round and round until Dis gets her way and Thorin yields to her demands after she drops him at the edge of her blades for the umteenth time. He is growling, but caves and she gets her way. Everyone cheers and she drags Thorin up and smacks the back of his head with the flat of her axe. He rubs his head and frowns and growls at her."Go tell them!" she orders. He growls and she threatens to beat him again if he didn't go tell them.

He grumbles and goes to tell Fili he has his blessing to court Davi. Fili and Davi beam at him and thank him. He grumbles a 'you're welcome.' and they all follow Dis to the music room. Thorin is confused for a moment. "You asked for music after lunch. Well lunch is over, so now you get your music." she states. 

With that she leads Davi over to the harp and helps her get settled. Loni perches on Davi's shoulder and nestles and squawks quietly into her ear. Davi giggles and looks at Dis. Dis tells her Loni just says he can't wait to hear your pretty voice again. "What should I sing for Thorin?" she asks Dis. 

Dis thinks for a moment, and asks if she knows The Misty Mountains song? Davi nods. "Sing that." She says, "then go right into the song you sang earlier." Davi swallows nervously and closes her eyes and begins to play the harp and sing.

Everyone's jaws drop at the sound of Davi's voice. Thorin especially is astounded. Her voice takes him back to the night they sat in Bilbo's hobbit hole and reminds him of all he succeeded in accomplishing and all who helped him do it. Then she begins to sing the song her mother sang to her and he is taken back to his mother singing it to him and to his siblings. When she finishes the song, there isn't a dry eye in the room.

Balin stands and comes over to her and takes her hand. He places a gentle kiss on the top of it and thanks her for the lovely music. He winks and then heads to his and Dwalin's suite.

One by one the dwarves thank Davi for her music and head to their suites until only Fili, Dis and Thorin are left.

Thorin stands and slowly walks up to Davi. He looks down at her and reaches out to grasp her hand. She hesitantly places it into his large hand and he gently pulls her over to him. He wraps her in a gentle hug and thanks her for the beautiful music. He apologizes for being such an ass to her and asks if they can start over. She looks up at him and nods, surprised by his about face in attitude. He smiles at her and kisses her hand and nods to Dis and Fili. Then he goes to his chambers and thinks how he is going to make this whole situation work for Davi so her and her guards stay safely out of reach of her horrible father.

@fizzyxcustard​ @queenofmankind​ @thorinthehottotty​ @deepestfirefun​@dumbassunderthemountain​ @thetherianthropydaily​ @demoniccheese83 @tschrist1​ @daisy-picking-lady​ @legolaslovely​ @lotr-hobbit-imagines​ @aspookybunny​ @ellavaneck @emrfangirl​ @midnight-reader-morning-sleeper​

[catbowserauthor]

Hobbit Story: In the Still of the Night 1

This follows my "Durin Line Endures" plot, an AU of the BOTFA and beyond. There is some reference to my AU of BOTFA which I haven't yet posted but nothing that should be difficult to follow. Also, I follow the Movie Verse that Balin is a few years older than Thorin as opposed to the Book Verse.

————

Night was peaceful.

It seemed an odd thing to be thankful for but the King Under the Mountain was deeply grateful for it. It wasn't that he minded the sounds of dwarves working; he had grown up to that sound and any dwarf worth his salt was never bothered by the song of Mahal's people engaging in their craft.

Now though, with it quiet, he could savor in the majesty of the rock and stone he had grown up knowing as well as he knew his own body. It was like greeting an old friend that one had not seen in years. He remembered their tone, their voice, their smile and it was enlightening to see them once more.

He still woke some nights or lay in the bed late in the morn, unable to believe that what had come to pass had come to pass. He had seen years go by where Erebor had all but faded from the thoughts of his people, save for a chosen few. He remembered distinctly, not long after Kili had been born, once the boys had been tucked in for the evening, his sister had come to him as he slaved away at the trade agreements to ensure his people would not starve through the winter.

He had thought that she was coming to shout at him for working late as she usually did but her reasoning had been something else and Thorin's heart still ached for it.

The opening of the door, letting the lanterns of the halls flood light into the room that was dimly lit with candles was not entirely unexpected. As much work as he had gotten done, Thorin was fairly certain his little sister watched him nearly as much as she watched her rambunctious boys. It could be frustrating and irritating but he knew she did it with good in her heart.

Looking up, he set his quill down, observing Dis' posture in the doorway. She shut the door behind her, which was an oddity. Usually, if she was coming to pry him away from his work, she would leave the door wide open and let any who happened to be wandering the halls hear her ranting at him. If she ranted long enough, Dwalin would always appear from down the corridor, beseeching him "to appease her for tonight, Thorin, Mahal's sake!"

Tonight, he was almost glad for her interruption though. The boys had been quite active this eve and he had to admit, he was tired. The means to provide for his people was small. He had responded to a plea from the Stiffbeards for aid for their ailing women and as such, he was working much longer and harder than before. He did not regret it. While they did not have much to be given, if it was for children or for their women, how could he refuse the request for help from the other families?

"Dis, I know the hour is late but-"

She walked over, sat down in the chair across from him. Her face, normally so full of spunk and spirit, was downcast. She was beautiful as ever, despite lacking the luxury she should have been given, as a Princess of Durin's line, but the light in her eyes was significantly dimmed. "I need a moment from you, Nadad."

The seriousness in her tone was enough that his work was forgotten. He pushed aside the papers that decorated his desk, stretched out his hands and gently clasped her own. "You have it, nan'ith."

After a moment's pause, she clutched his hands tight and said, "I should not be so disturbed by it, Nadad but I am. This night, Fili asked me as I was ushering them into the bath. He asked me if there were truly the baths of steam and salt within Erebor's belly and yes, I told him. There truly are."

When she looked up at her brother, while there were no tears in her eyes, there might as well have been with the depth of the pain that was there. "When Fili asked me to describe them, Nadad, I could not. I could not. I am forgetting. The images are fading."

Thorin's heart sank but his voice was firm. "You were young, Nan'ith. You have not let them forget their culture, their birthright."

Dis nodded. "I have tried not to. But, I am starting to send them to you, or to Dwalin or Balin, Nadad. Not because I do not long to speak of it. Not because I do not treasure the memories but because they are fading. I cannot speak of Erebor's glory because my mind can no longer see it!" There was desperation in her voice. "I do not want you to think that I am unhappy here, Nadad. I am not. You build a strong life for us and my boys grow with food in their bellies and warmth in the winter. I can ask no more than that. The stone here though—"

"It does not answer you." Thorin supplied simply. "It does not answer you because Durin's Folk respond to Erebor or Khazad-dûm." He reached out, stroked the braids in her beard and his eyes softened, "The time will come, Nan'ith when we will go home and the blood in you will feel at peace, once more."

Much as she dreaded the thought of her brother challenging that dragon, she could not deny that she longed for the older ways, not as much as her brother but she still longed for it. This place, the Blue Mountains, had given her the one who had stolen her heart and given her the two wonderful boys who slept in the next room but it was not home. "Nadad, my home is where family is. Where you are. Where my boys are." She pushed back her chair and stood.

Thorin followed. "Nan'ith, the time will come. The time will come when we will take back what was stolen from us. I promise you, Erebor will be ours once more." He added, "Your heart and blood will be replenished and your mind's memories will follow."

Dis, only daughter of Thrain, turned around and after a moment, she left the door and sat by the small fire burning in the corner. "I remember. A fireplace, like this one but grander. Bigger…Father used to tell us stories by the fire."

"As we still do for your little ones. For my ruydayûd."

She smiled warmly at the affectionate name and said, "Nadad, I know you are tired but I ask you. Help me remember."

Sitting down next to her, he took her braids in his left hand, gently stroking it. "Always, Nan'ith."

Thorin greatly anticipated when his sister could finally arrive from the Blue Mountains with the coming of spring. He had taken care to locate her old room and had it repaired as best it could be to how it had been before. He had made her a promise, a vow, to help her remember and now, he could finally welcome her back home and not only restore the old but build new memories here.

Provided the next few days went as well as he hoped.

Slipping outside amid the balconies, the Dwarf King walked, occasionally taking a puff of his pipe amid the frigid air. The city of Dale lay peacefully in the distance, coated by a light layer of snow.

Dale…

Bard had sent word to him that late that evening the six fathers of the Dwarves were seen approaching. They would not bunk in Dale though Bard would have certainly welcomed them. They did not have any reason to trust Men. They were on a specific mission, one that they had been called to as soon as word passed that the Dragon was slain and Thorin and his kin were back in Erebor.

Tomorrow, he would welcome them into Erebor with joy and celebration. They would trade small talk for as long as was necessary to be socially polite and then they would come to the true meaning of their visit:

The King Select.

Heir though he was to Durin and son of Thrain, son of Thror, Thorin still had to win the favor of the Dwarf families to claim his crown, to be deemed worthy to rule Erebor. While the Line of Durin might have authority over the other Dwarf Fathers, that was only after a coronation occurred and the other six Fathers could also deem a son of Durin unfit.

The Gold Sickness wavered on his mind.

"A bit late to be brooding, isn't it, laddie?"

Without even turning and instead focusing on his pipe as though it contained all the secrets of the universe, Thorin remarked, "I could ask the same of you, Balin."

White hair pulled back in his sleeping braids, the old advisor smiled and slid into position next to Thorin, resting his forearms on the lookout. "I seem to have a knack for knowing when you're brooding. Comes with knowing you as long as I have, I suppose." Warmth poured out of his eyes and he lay a hand gently on his king's arm. "You're worried about tomorrow."

"How can I not, Balin?" Thorin's response was spoken in softness. "You know as well as I that they did not support my quest to begin with, claiming that they would only follow the one who possessed the King's Jewel and that to risk such to reclaim it was folly." He turned, smirked without any jollity. "Oh, what a sight it will be when I tell them that not only do I not have it but that I smashed it myself."

Nodding at the reminder, Balin inquired without judgement, "Do you regret destroying it?"

"Only that it took the near-death of Fili by my own blindness to drive me to do it." Thorin said firmly. "Only that it was not cast away when Juldon presented it to Grandfather. I took great pleasure in shattering it and I will not hesitate to tell them that." He meant that. The fact that it was Fili's cries that had finally pierced that shadow of madness was both reassuring and frightening. The fact that he had nearly killed Bilbo, the Hobbit who had been ever loyal to them without any cause to be, the fact he had threatened Dwalin, the dwarf who was his brother in everything but blood—his Akrâgnadad, for Mahal's sake!—the fact he had been willing to sacrifice his men to the mercy of a Dragon…

No. It did no good to linger on it now. "I will tell them with pleasure that I smashed it myself." He repeated again, eyes still on the horizon and the small swirls of smoke that drifted up from his pipe.

Raising a brow, Balin tapped his beard knowingly. "You worry about when they ask you why."

"I'm sure they know." Thorin said simply. No point in avoiding the question nor the real problem at hand. "Word travels quickly when there is no poison. I'm sure the venomous talk of my Gold Madness has reached their ears."

"…aye, it will have." Balin remarked with a sad nod. "I will not lie to you, laddie."

"Good." Thorin stood up right, "Tell me this then, my old friend. How do I prove myself to a group of old stuff beards who did not even think my Quest worthwhile after I know they have heard of me falling as Grandfather did?" He clenched his fists. "The one thing I swore I would never do…I…" He trailed off. Nothing else needed to be said.

The older dwarf went quiet for a moment, his eyes drifting out where the remains of a dwarf camp could be seen around the remains of Laketown. "You pulled yourself out of it, Thorin. That is something of note."

"Only after so much damage was done…"

"Damage, yes but it opened your eyes to how dangerous the Arkenstone was. It also let you know how strong YOU are." Balin's words left no room for argument and his last statement, said with fire and lightning, made Thorin turn to face him.

Eyes serious, the elder dwarf intoned."You are of flesh and blood, Thorin." Balin reminded him simply. "No King has ever reigned who did not make errors. Your Grandfather, wise as he once was, made numerous ones. He may have recognized them, in his own way, but he never addressed them. He moved on, tried to push them aside, to pretend they never happened." Balin took hold of Thorin's shoulder firmly, turning him to look at him straight in the face. "It is a rare one that admits it and seeks to make amends for it. That HAS made amends for it." He tightened his grip, "You know we support you, laddie. So does Dain and every dwarf that you have given shelter to here. All who learn what you have done are with you."

"I treasure your confidence, Balin." Thorin smiled. "You know politics was always a struggle for me."

"Yet you learned well." The white bearded dwarf smiled with a chuckle, "The flourishment of Ered Luin is proof of that. I don't doubt that ol' Firebeard will be the worst of the bunch but when they see you for who you are, there will not be any doubt, just like there is none for me, Uzabad."

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The Gathering of the Clouds

Now we will return to Bilbo and the dwarves. All night one of them had watched, but when morning came they had not heard or seen any sign of danger. But ever more thickly the birds were gathering. Their companies came flying from the South; and the crows that still lived about the Mountain were wheeling and crying unceasingly above. "Something strange is happening," said Thorin. "The time has gone for the autumn wanderings; and these are birds that dwell always in the land; there are starlings and flocks of finches; and far off there are many carrion birds as if a battle were afoot!" Suddenly Bilbo pointed: "There is that old thrush again!" he cried. "He seems to have escaped, when Smaug smashed the mountain-side, but I don't suppose the snails have!" Sure enough the old thrush was there, and as Bilbo pointed, he flew towards them and perched on a stone near by. Then he fluttered his wings and sang; then he cocked his head on one side, as if to listen; and again he sang, and again he listened. "I believe he is trying to tell us something," said Balin; "but I cannot follow the speech of such birds, it is very quick and difficult. Can you make it out Baggins?" "Not very well," said Bilbo (as a matter of fact, he could make nothing of it at all); "but the old fellow seems.very excited." "I only wish he was a raven!" said Balin. "I thought you did not like them! You seemed very shy of them, when we came this way before." "Those were crows! And nasty suspicious-looking creatures at that, and rude as well. You must have heard the ugly names they were calling after us. But the ravens are different. There used to be great friendship between them and the people of Thror; and they often brought us secret news, and were rewarded with such bright things as they coveted to hide in their dwellings. "They live many a year, and their memories are long, and they hand on their wisdom to their children. I knew many among the ravens of the rocks when I was a dwarf -  lad. This very height was once named Ravenhill, because there was a wise and famous pair, old Care and his wife, that lived here above the guard-chamber. But I don't suppose that any of that ancient breed linger here now." No sooner had he finished speaking than the old thrush gave a loud call, and immediately flew away. "We may not understand him, but that old bird understands us, I am sure," said Balin. "Keep watch now, and see what happens!" Before long there was a fluttering of wings, and back came the thrush; and with him came a most decrepit old bird. He was getting blind, he could hardly fly, and the top of his head was bald. He was an aged raven of great size. He alighted stiffly on the ground before them, slowly flapped his wings, and bobbed towards Thorin. "O Thorin son of Thrain, and Balin son of Fundin," he croaked (and Bilbo could understand what he said, for he used ordinary language and not bird-speech). "I am Rac son of Carc. Carc is dead, but he was well known to you once. It is a hundred years and three and fifty since I came out of the egg, but I do not forget what my father told me. Now I am the chief of the great ravens of the Mountain. We are few, but we remember still the king that was of old. Most of my people are abroad, for there are great tidings in the South - some are tidings of joy to you, and some you will not think so good. "Behold! the birds are gathering back again to the Mountain and to Dale from South and East and West, for word has gone out that Smaug is dead!" "Dead! Dead?" shouted the dwarves. "Dead! Then we have been in needless fear-and the treasure is ours!" They all sprang up and began to caper about for joy. "Yes, dead," said Rac. "The thrush, may his feathers never fall, saw him die, and we may trust his words. He saw him fall in battle with the men of Esgaroth the third night back from now at the rising of the moon." It was some time before Thorin could bring the dwarves to be silent and listen to the raven's news. At length when he had told all the tale of the battle he went on: "So much for joy, Thorin Oakenshield. You may go back to your halls in safety; all the treasure is yours-for the moment. But many are gathering hither beside the birds. The news of the death of the guardian has already gone far and wide, and the legend of the wealth of Thror has not lost in the telling during many years; many are eager for a share of the spoil. Already a host of the elves is on the way, and carrion birds are with them hoping for battle and slaughter. By the lake men murmur that their sorrows are due to the dwarves; for they are homeless and many have died, and Smaug has destroyed their town. They too think to find amends from your treasure, whether you are alive or dead. "Your own wisdom must decide your course, but thirteen is small remnant of the great folk of Durin that once dwelt here, and now are scattered far. If you will listen to my counsel, you will not trust the Master of the Lake-men, but rather him that shot the dragon with his bow. Bard is he, of the race of Dale, of the line of Girion; he is a grim man but true. We would see peace once more among dwarves and men and elves after the long desolation; but it may cost you dear in gold. I have spoken." Then Thorin burst forth in anger: "Our thanks, Rac Carc's son. You and your people shall not be forgotten. But none of our gold shall thieves take or the violent carry off while we are alive. If you would earn our thanks still more, bring us news of any that draw near. Also I would beg of you, if any of you are still young and strong of wing, that you would send messengers to our kin in the mountains of the North, both west from here and east, and tell them of our plight. But go specially to my cousin Dain in the Iron Hills, for he has many people well-armed, and dwells nearest to this place. Bid him hasten!" "I will not say if this counsel be good or bad," croaked Rac; "but I will do what can be done." Then off he slowly flew. "Back now to the Mountain!" cried Thorin. "We have little time to lose." "And little food to use!" cried Bilbo, always practical on such points. In any case he felt that the adventure was, properly speaking, over.with the death of the dragon-in which he was much mistaken-and he would have given most of his share of the profits for the peaceful winding up of these affairs. "Back to the Mountain!" cried the dwarves as if they had not heard him, so back he had to go with them. As you have heard some of the events already, you will see that the dwarves still had some days before them. They explored the caverns once more, and found, as they expected, that only the Front Gate remained open; all the other gates (except, of course, the small secret door) had long ago been broken and blocked by Smaug, and no sign of them remained. So now they began to labour hard in fortifying the main entrance, and in remaking the road that led from it. Tools were to be found in plenty that the miners and quarriers and builders of old had used; and at such work the dwarves were still very skilled. As they worked the ravens brought them constant tidings. In this way they learned that the Elvenking had turned aside to the Lake, and they still had a breathing space. Better still, they heard that three of their ponies had escaped and were wandering wild far down the banks of the Running River, not far from where the rest of their stores had been left. So while the others went on with their work, Fili and Kili were sent, guided by a raven, to find the ponies and bring back all they could. They were four days gone, and by that time they knew that the joined armies of the Lake-men and the Elves were hurrying towards the Mountain. But now their hopes were higher; for they had food for some weeks with care-chiefly cram, of course, and they were very tired of it; but cram is much better than nothing-and already the gate was blocked with a wall of squared stones laid dry, but very thick and high across the opening. There were holes in the wall through which they could see (or shoot) but no entrance. They climbed in or out with ladders, and hauled stuff up with ropes. For the issuing of the stream they had contrived a small low arch under the new wall; but near the entrance they had so altered the narrow bed that a wide pool stretched from the mountain-wall to the head of the fall over which the stream went towards Dale. Approach to the Gate was now only possible, without swimming, along a narrow ledge of the cliff, to the right as one looked outwards from the wall. The ponies they had brought only to the head of the steps above the old bridge, and unloading them there had bidden them return to their masters and sent them back riderless to the South. There came a night when suddenly there were many lights as of fires and torches away south in Dale before them. "They have come!" called Balin. "And their camp is very great. They must have come into the valley under the cover of dusk along both banks of the river." That night the dwarves slept little. The morning was still pale when they saw a company approaching. From behind their wall they watched them come up to the valley's head and climb slowly up. Before long they could see that both men of the lake armed as if for war and elvish bowmen were among them. At length the foremost of these climbed the tumbled rocks and appeared at the top of the falls; and very great was their surprise to see the pool before them and the Gate blocked with a wall of new-hewn stone. As they stood pointing and speaking to one another Thorin hailed them: "Who are you," he called in a very loud voice, "that come as if in war to the gates of Thorin son of Thrain, King under the Mountain, and what do you desire?" But they answered nothing. Some turned swiftly back, and the others after gazing for a while at the Gate and its defences soon followed them. That day the camp was moved and was brought right between the arms of the Mountain. The rocks echoed then with voices and with song, as they had not done for many a day. There was the sound, too, of elven-harps and of sweet music; and as it echoed up towards them it seemed that the chill of the air was warmed, and they caught faintly the fragrance of woodland flowers blossoming in spring. Then Bilbo longed to escape from the dark fortress and to go down and join in the mirth and feasting by the fires. Some of the younger dwarves were moved in their hearts, too, and they muttered that they wished things had fallen out otherwise and that they might welcome such folk as friends; but Thorin scowled. Then the dwarves themselves brought forth harps and instruments regained from the hoard, and made music to soften his mood; but their song was not as elvish song, and was much like the song they had sung long before in Bilbo's little hobbit-hole. "Under the Mountain dark and tall The King has come unto his hall! His foe is dead, the Worm of Dread, And ever so his foes shall fall. The sword is sharp, the spear is long, The arrow swift, the Gate is strong; The heart is bold that looks on gold; The dwarves no more shall suffer wrong. The dwarves of yore made mighty spells, While hammers fell like ringing bells In places deep, where dark things sleep, In hollow halls beneath the fells. On silver necklaces they strung The light of stars, on crowns they hung The dragon-fire, from twisted wire The melody of harps they wrung. The mountain throne once more is freed! O! wandering folk, the summons heed! Come haste! Come haste! across the waste! The king of friend and kin has need. Now call we over mountains cold, 'Come hack unto the caverns old'! Here at the Gates the king awaits, His hands are rich with gems and gold. The king is come unto his hall Under the Mountain dark and tall. The Worm of Dread is slain and dead, And ever so our foes shall fall!" This song appeared to please Thorin, and he smiled again and grew merry; and he began reckoning the distance to the Iron Hills and how long it would be before Dain could reach the Lonely Mountain, if he had set out as soon as the message reached him. But Bilbo's heart fell, both at the song and the talk: they sounded much too warlike. The next morning early a company of spearmen was seen crossing the river, and marching up the valley. They bore with them the green banner of the Elvenking and the blue banner of the Lake, and they advanced until they stood right before the wall at the Gate. Again Thorin hailed them in a loud voice: "Who are you that come armed for war to the gates of Thorin son of Thrain, King under the Mountain?" This time he was answered. A tall man stood forward, dark of hair and grim of face, and he cried: "Hail Thorin! Why do you fence yourself like a robber in his hold? We are not yet foes, and we rejoice that you are alive beyond our hope. We came expecting to find none living here; yet now that we are met there is matter for a parley and a council." "Who are you, and of what would you parley?" "I am Bard, and by my hand was the dragon slain and your treasure delivered. Is that not a matter that concerns you? Moreover I am by right descent the heir of Girion of Dale, and in your hoard is mingled much of the wealth of his halls and town, which of old Smaug stole. Is not that a matter of which we may speak? Further in his last battle Smaug destroyed the dwellings of the men of Esgaroth, and I am yet the servant of their Master. I would speak for him and ask whether you have no thought for the sorrow and misery of his people. They aided you in your distress, and in recompense you have thus far brought ruin only, though doubtless undesigned." Now these were fair words and true, if proudly and grimly spoken; and Bilbo thought that Thorin would at once admit what justice was in them. He did not, of course, expect that any one would remember that it was he who discovered all by himself the dragon's weak spot; and that was just as well, for no one ever did. But also he did not reckon with the power that gold has upon which a dragon has long brooded, nor with dwarvish hearts. Long hours in the past days Thorin had spent in the treasury, and the lust of it was heavy on him. Though he had hunted chiefly for the Arkenstone, yet he had an eye for many another wonderful thing that was lying there, about which were wound old memories of the labours and the sorrows of his race. "You put your worst cause last and in the chief place," Thorin answered. "To the treasure of my people no man has a claim, because Smaug who stole it from us also robbed him of life or home. The treasure was not his that his evil deeds should be amended with a share of it. The price of the goods and the assistance that we received of the Lake-men we will fairly pay-in due time. But nothing will we give, not even a loaf's worth, under threat of force. While an armed host lies before our doors, we look on you as foes and thieves. "It is in my mind to ask what share of their inheritance you would have paid to our kindred, had you found the hoard unguarded and us slain." "A just question," replied Bard. "But you are not dead, and we are not robbers. Moreover the wealthy may have pity beyond right on the needy that befriended them when they were in want. And still my other claims remain unanswered." "I will not parley, as I have said, with armed men at my gate. Nor at all with the people of the Elvenking, whom I remember with small kindness. In this debate they have no place. Begone now ere our arrows fly! And if you would speak with me again, first dismiss the elvish host to the woods where it belongs, and then return, laying down your arms before you approach the threshold." "The Elvenking is my friend, and he has succoured the people of the Lake in their need, though they had no claim but friendship on him," answered Bard. "We will give you time to repent your words. Gather your wisdom ere we return!" Then he departed and went back to the camp. Ere many hours were past, the banner-bearers returned, and trumpeters stood forth and blew a blast: "In the name of Esgaroth and the Forest," one cried, "we speak unto Thorin Thrain's son Oakenshield, calling himself the King under the Mountain, and we bid him consider well the claims that have been urged, or be declared our foe. At the least he shall deliver one twelfth portion of the treasure unto Bard, as the dragon-slayer, and as the heir of Girion. From that portion Bard will himself contribute to the aid of Esgaroth; but if Thorin would have the friendship and honour of the lands about, as his sires had of old, then he will give also somewhat of his own for the comfort of the men of the Lake." Then Thorin seized a bow of horn and shot an arrow at the speaker. It smote into his shield and stuck there quivering. '"Since such is your answer," he called in return, "I declare the Mountain besieged. You shall not depart from it, until you call on your side for a truce and a parley. We will bear no weapons against you, but we leave you to your gold. You may eat that, if you will!" With that the messengers departed swiftly, and the dwarves were left to consider their case. So grim had Thorin become, that even if they had wished, the others would not have dared to find fault with him; but indeed most of them seemed to share his mind-except perhaps old fat Bombur and Fili and Kili. Bilbo, of course, disapproved of the whole turn of affairs. He had by now had more than enough of the Mountain, and being besieged inside it was not at all to his taste. "The whole place still stinks of dragon," he grumbled to himself, "and it makes me sick. And cram is beginning simply to stick in my throat."