It's been years since the great battle and relations are strained as prejudice and ignorance prevails. Can three kingdoms come together to fight against a greater foe set to destroy them or will it take the love of two unlikely people to conquer the darkness and save them all?
Welcome. I do hope you enjoy this story and please, leave me your comments. A writer can only get better when others provide feedback.
All credit for the wonderful world of Middle Earth belongs to Tolkien and all the characters envisioned in this story is the work of Peter Jackson and the fantastic actors who portrayed them.
Prologue
"Hold steady lads," bellowed the commander from his perch upon his steely ram. With a mighty throw, he let loose the heavy metal spear sending it high into the smoke-filled sky where it landed only inches away from the orc leader's foot. "May Mahal own you all," he cried evoking the same from the army of dwarves who stood behind him.
Commander Dwalin spurred his ram down the front line until he found his second in command waiting eagerly with the crown prince at his side.
"Kíli, are the archers prepared?"
"Aye, that they are Commander Dwalin."
"Fíli, is the other brigade ready to the north?"
"Yes, at your command."
"Then what are we waiting for lads?" he quips with a smirk before turning to face his legion.
With his ax raised high above his head, he let out a hoarse battle cry, "Baruk Khazâd! Khazâd ai-mênu!" prompting the entire battalion to race across the barren lands of Erebor and towards an uncertain fate.
Baruk Khazâd! Khazâd ai-mênu! - The axes of the dwarves! The dwarves are upon you!
Chapter One – For Love of Kingdom
It's been three years since the retaking of the lonely mountain and the battle of the five armies which saw to King Thorin sitting smugly upon his throne of bowenite and gold, confident his rightful home was now in order and the last of the reconstruction completed. But as his kingdom flourished from the depths of destruction and despair, his mind remained troubled. After Azog the Defiler was defeated and killed by his own hand, a new charge took his place, one who was stronger, more cunning and who hated the Dwarves of Erebor even more. And even though their numbers grew stronger every day from the arrival of kin far and wide, the constant raids by Gundabad orcs and goblin mercenaries had finally taken its toll. It wasn't safe for dwarf or man in the region and it was time to reach out to the newly crowned King of Dale.
"Send word to the King of Dale that I request a meeting. Tell him - that I cordially invite him to Erebor," he said indifferently before flicking his hand in dismissal.
"Yes my liege," said the keeper of the seal before turning on his boot heels and leaving the grand throne room.
King Thorin and the bargeman never saw eye to eye, not since the great battle when Bard tried to force his hand and make him concede. In Thorin's mind, he knew he was wrong and that the sickness impaired his judgment but he never forgave Bard for taking the Arkenstone as payment or for siding with that wretched Elvish King. When news came that the bargeman was to become a king himself, he scoffed at the thought and vowed he'd never step foot in Dale again - or let any man of Dale enter his mountain.
But that was then, and after much council he finally agreed to put aside his distrust and come up with a plan; a plan that would benefit both kingdoms.
-D-
"Da! A raven from Erebor just arrived. It's a letter bearing the gold seal of the king," cried Bain as he raced through the bustling kitchen towards his father's study.
Much of Dale had been rebuilt, thanks to a certain jewel and the wealth of a Gondor steward. The final undertaking was the rebuilding of the royal palace and King Bard was busy fussing over the master drawings and plans.
"What's that Bain?" he muttered in concentration while flipping through the chaotic mess on his desk.
"Da!" he pants, "Here!"
Bain handed over the folded parchment, the distinct raven emblem of Erebor embossed within the sealing wax. The king looked at it with suspicion before taking it from the boy's hand. Usually any correspondence from Erebor came from one of their officials but never Thorin, never him.
"What does that royal arse want?" he sneered before tearing open the seal and unfolding the page. Reading in silence, the king's rugged face quickly changed from irritation to one of concern.
"What is it Da?"
"It appears I've been summoned."
-D-
The soft sound of a young girl's giggle filled the sunlit chamber, the balcony doors swept open to bring in the early summer breeze and the warm yeasty smell of bread from the market stalls below.
"Tilda - quit fooling around and help me with the bedding," Sigrid gently scolded.
"But Siggy, you know I can't fold the corners like you do, besides, you know my bed won't stay that way," she replied with a mischievous grin.
Sigrid rolled her eyes in amusement as she shook out the crumpled bed sheet.
"That's very true, but at least we can try to have your room look somewhat decent for at least a few hours. Come on, these morning chores won't get done on their own."
"Fine," she huffed. "You know - all these chores are interfering with my childhood."
"Don't be such a drama queen."
"I'm not a queen, I'm a princess!" she cried, flinging herself at her sister in a big bear hug.
"Is that right little bird? Well, your highness, I have a lot to do today so you best get off to the kitchen where Gilda can fix you some breakfast."
"Aw, but I want to be with you today," she pouted crossing her arms defiantly.
"I would love to Tilly, really I would but we've talked about this," kneeling down to the girl's height as she tucked a stray wisp of hair behind her ear. "I have a lot of responsibilities now, more so than ever and I can't trust these servants to do them all for me."
"Okay. Just promise that you'll play quoits with me after supper."
"I promise little one."
Sigrid placed a sweet kiss on Tilda's forehead and sent her through the door, forever grateful that she still had a younger sister to look after.
She turned back to the task at hand, humming softly to herself as she fluffed the duck down pillows and smoothed out the patchwork quilt. As Sigrid busied herself in the small sandstone chamber, she noticed a pile of clothes thrown into a corner behind an old rocking chair hewed from trees of a bygone era. That girl, she thought with a laugh. Grabbing a willow basket from a nearby stool, she started to toss the soiled clothes in when she jumped back, startled at what laid before her. She had uncovered a small doll, partially burnt and discolored from age. The details of fine workmanship faded from its torn cloth dress and chipped wooden buttons. Sigrid bent down picking it up slowly, holding it carefully in her hands in fear that it would fall apart in a poof of ash. Tilda had found it amongst the ruins of their new home when they first arrived in Dale. She refused to throw it out saying that the spirit of the little girl who used to live there would be sad. Sigrid didn't have the heart to take it away from her, but it was a painful reminder of that day, the day that changed their lives forever and the moment her resentment for all things dwarven began.
-D-
"There you are Sigrid," said Bain as he entered the old and musty cold cellar. "I've been looking all over for you."
"I've been here all morning sorting out this mess," she snit sweeping away the loose golden brown curls from her eyes. "Who mixes the jam jars with the pickled preserves or shoves the potatoes and onions into one sack? Really Bain, those scullery maids have to go."
"That's not important right now. Da has been summoned to Erebor."
"What? Since when? The dwarves haven't bothered with us since the retaking of that bloody mountain."
"Well they want something now."
"Is that so," she mocked untying her apron at the neck and tossing it to the floor.
The Princess took off in a flurry, her dark blue skirt billowing behind her as Bain tried in vain to keep up. She was determined to speak with her father and let him know what she truly thought of this obscene demand.
"Sigrid, wait!" yelled Bain as he ran after her through the narrow hallway.
"How dare he summon Da like he's some page boy after all the times he tried to mend the fences to only have that sullen overlord cast us off," she spat over her shoulder.
The servants had seen that look on their lady mistress before and quickly got out of her way as she charged through the old palace ruins. Spotting the guard before the door to her father's council room, Sigrid snapped her wrist to the side motioning him to get out of her way as she pushed the heavy wooden doors open.
"Percy, we need to position more outposts between Dale and Lake Town. These attacks are starting to interrupt our…," spoke the king before a flash of bronze locks caught his attention.
Sigrid strutted to the middle of the council room taking command of all present.
"Father, is it true?" she declared. "Has that selfish mountain king summoned you after all these years?"
"Sigrid, can't you see I'm in the middle of a meeting with my advisors," intoned the new king as he gestured to the occupants around the square table.
"Well, is it?" she stomped ignoring his words.
King Bard knew he couldn't placate his daughter unless he gave her his full attention. With a defeated look and a visible sigh, he rose from his stately seat. "Yes, it is true but not in that context. I've been cordially invited to meet before King Thorin to discuss matters pertaining to the increased threat of orcs in the region."
"Are you going to go?"
"I would think that wise, wouldn't you?"
Sigrid grew increasingly flustered, "I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Every time you tried to hold an audience with him to discuss an alliance, all he did was look down upon you from his pile of gold. I say we do the same."
"To what end my dear daughter," said Bard as he walked around the table to meet her. "We can continue to play this game or we could be the better and submit to his request. It's obvious that the orc situation is bothering him too, so maybe now our majestic king is ready to work with us."
"I don't believe that Da. Everything that's happened to us, to our people was because of him and his selfish ways. He caused our sorrow, our pain, our loss and for what! So he can sit there inside that mountain counting his coin. He gave us nothing! He went back on his word after all we did for him and his friends. You had to take the Arkenstone so we had something to start…."
"Sigrid! I didn't steal that gem. It was given to me by Bilbo, the Hobbit, as his share of the treasure for helping to reclaim the mountain - to which we'll forever be grateful."
Bard walked up to his daughter with a soft smile and placed a loving hand upon her rosy cheek. "My sweet daughter, I know how much you dislike the dwarves, in fact, I think you downright hate them, but if you want to be a future Queen of Dale, you'll need to learn how to work with them."
Sigrid shook her head forcing her father to withdraw his hand. "I will never work with them - ever. He may want something from us now but mark my words Father; he will never reciprocate in kind."
"That may be, but before we throw stones shouldn't we risk it and see what he wants first?"
The council advisors sitting around the table all bobbed their heads in mutual agreement.
"I agree with your Father, Princess Sigrid," spoke an elderly man with snow white hair and steely blue eyes. "It's time we put the past into the past. King Thorin wouldn't call a meeting if it wasn't important to him - or to us."
"As you can see Sigrid, even the keeper of the coin is in agreement," Bard said with a light grin. "Please, let us continue with our meeting. I'm pretty confident that there's something that needs your utmost attention within the household."
Sigrid stood there, her arms at her side, her fists clenched into tiny balls. Grudgingly, she accepted her father's unconcerned dismissal by turning around in a huff and striding out of the room in a wounded wave of disappointment.
Before the guard closed the doors behind her she heard her father laugh and say "Now where were we…," fueling her already festering temper. How can he completely ignore what those awful dwarves did to us, to our people!
Bain was waiting in the hallway when Sigrid trotted past. "Hey, so what happened in there?" he said when he finally caught up to her.
"Nothing," she snapped. "Father is going to Erebor. What he doesn't know - is that I'm going with him.
Da - father