Today was the day. Her hair was tied up with gold ribbons. She had met him once, and chatted with him for only an hour. She wasn't too impressed with her parents' choice in a husband. She was raised to marry a prince of Erebor. She had no say in the matter though, she was to be married in 20 minutes.
He had told her she was beautiful. Her heart thumped in her chest as her father led her down the aisle. This was it, she was to be given off like cattle between farmers. Her freedom had been long gone, but now it felt as if her cage was getting smaller. Soon she would suffocate.
"In my halls you will find a house, in your heart I will find a home." His chocolate eyes said to her. She couldn't help but notice how they reflected warmth in the light.
"In your halls I will find a house, in my heart you will find a home." Her voice dead and meaningless, however that didn't matter in a marriage ceremony. They were now married.
She was his wife. No matter how much she hated it, she was his. The feasts had been grand, every night a different luxury. His brother was always kind to her, he understood what it was like to be raised for something you didn't want. She slept with her back to him the first night, he assured her it would take some getting used to, but he took to sleeping on the sofa.
She liked the way he talked. His voice ran over her like molasses when he spoke. But she had to shake herself out of it, their marriage was a treaty, not anything more.
He got really drunk, and told her that he was the luckiest dwarf alive because he was married to her. She had taken his boots off and sent him to bed, ignoring the fact he smelled like a dirty tavern. The cushions on the sofa were lumpy and hard, but she managed to go to sleep, not before blushing from his drunken rant.
Her mother sent a letter, asking if there was to be a child. She hid the letter from him, hoping he wouldn't get the idea in his head. It had only been 2 months since they first met.
He held her hand as she cried today. His hands were strong and calloused, but for some reason had made her feel better. Her mother sent another letter, her brother had been murdered by orcs. They had never gone so close to their borders before. His camp had been set up, waiting for the perfect hunt. There were too many orcs, and too few guards. Her brother was her best friend, and she never got to say goodbye.
She drank too much. Every night she would have her maid bring up two bottles of wine and in the morning the maid would leave with three empty bottles. He asked her why this is, she told him it was the only way she could go to sleep. He didn't question her again.
They kissed today. She had another panic attack. Her knees wobbled and shook as he held her up. His lips were strong against hers, she had forgotten their marriage was a treaty, and nothing more. He smiled as he pulled away, she had felt a little more alive.
They often took walks. She needed the fresh air for her pounding head in the morning, and he didn't want to be any where near the crusty old counselors who could barely see anything. This morning he held her hand again, she had passed out the night before. He cautioned her that she should probably stop drinking so much, she asked why he cared. He told her that they were still husband and wife, even if they didn't like each other that much, he told her that he was worried for her health. She stormed off grumbling about how she can take care of herself.
She asked if he would stay with her tonight, with the blankets covering up to her chin. His exposed chest glistened in the dim firelight. He had wholeheartedly complied. Wrapping his arms around her, she felt safe. This was the first time she had felt loved since her brother had left.
Her mother sent another letter begging for an heir. She rolled her eyes and tossed it in the fire. He noticed but didn't say anything. He had taken to not questioning her.
She taught him about literature, while he taught her to use a bow. He had been surprisingly knowledgeable, while her arrows often went in the opposite directions. Laughing to themselves, they silently agreed to not tell anyone about that.
He kissed her with passion, with his body pressed against hers. The warmth of his breath on her as he explored her for the first time. The light was dim on his features, making him look dark. She loved the way he pressed against her, how he felt next to her. She loved the feeling of safety and security in his arms. Maybe her mother would get an heir after all.
There was to be a quest, to reclaim their home. He was required to go, it was his duty. She didn't reply, but sat in silence as he told her about it. She wasn't too fond of the idea of a dragon. She loved him. He loved her. Neither of them wanted to be apart, but it was his duty as a prince.
He told her he'd be back for her. After they won the mountain, they would return to their home. She argued that it wasn't their home, they had never been there, how could it be home? It is the Kingdom of Durin's folk he replied. It will be our home. He left the next morning, she waved him off with no emotions in her eyes. She knew what would happen.
Months passed. The heir she had produced died in the first trimester of her pregnancy. How she wished she had his arms around her.
She stopped drinking. She knew how much he hated it when she drank.
She finished the blanket she was making for her child, for her dead child. She had stopped crying weeks ago. His mother had taken the liberty to sit with her, and found her presence equally as sad. They would do nothing but sit in silence and wait for them to return.
News had spread about a war. They had made it to the mountain. Now it was up to them to protect it. She hoped he could protect himself.
Her mother stopped writing her letters after he had left, there was no reason to talk if there was no possibility of an heir.
A letter came. The royal seal on the front. She knew what it had meant. He promised to come back to her. She didn't open the letter until she was one bottle in.
"He died fighting."
She traveled to the mountain for his funeral. Still drunk from the night before, she collapsed on his grave. No one tried to pull her off.
She hadn't been sober in days. Her bloodshot eyes rested on the ceiling as she took swigs of whiskey from the bottle. She gave up wine. She knew how much he hated it when she drank.