"King Dain. Sir." The tall, slender elf bowed most graciously. Sympathy writ in every move of his body. "The heart no longer beats."
The new King Under the Mountain scowled, not with anger, but with abject grief.
The great elven healer of the Mirkwood waited for the dwarrow to process the words, giving him space and time.
Finally Dain coughed, clearing his throat unnecessarily. "My queen?"
Andulin of Mirkwood nodded sadly. "With the child no longer …viable, it was deemed safer for the mother to give her something to quiet her nerves. We will have to induce her body to remove the …well, that will be later. For now she does not sleep, but she is resting. You may see her if you would like."
King Dain made a face, looking around the room. For his great grief, he could have wished for more privacy. But the Mirkwood king and his son seemed to be sympathetic at the least. Still, it was hard to admit anything to them. "Queen Lukvin may not wish to see me at the present."
The healer paused, then gave a small frown. "I take it this is not the first child of your union?"
"Fourth." Dain admitted rawly.
Andulin murmured something sadly, knowing that the dwarven king and his wife had no living children. It was rare among the Elves and the Dwarves, but sometimes there were just couples who could not bear children.
King Thranduil stirred quietly, twitching two fingers very slightly. A guard turned and slipped away. Legolas looked up in a questioning manner, but did not ask.
"Is there aught that the elves have in their healing lore that might be of use?" King Dain asked next. "If we should want to try again." He didn't, but his Lukvin had always wanted to bring him a family.
Thranduil shifted forward in his throne, and then nodded regally at his healer.
Anduluin pursed his lips, and then mutely shrugged. "From what we can determine the queen's body attacks each child as they grow, not recognizing them as something good and healthy. We do not have the power to change this."
Dain's hopes fell, though he'd expected nothing else. The healers of the Dwarves said much the same. Still, they'd gotten closer this time, nearly seven months out of the necessary ten.
The elven guard who'd left at his king's silent command returned. Holding a bundle tightly swaddled.
Legolas started horribly, his eyes widening and flying to the face of his father. "Please do not." His words were a plea.
Dain, lost in his internal grief, only barely registered the guard. But the raw emotion in Prince Legolas' voice did pierce through some of the fog surrounding his mind. He blinked and really looked.
The bundle was the size of a child. Shock had him catching his breath, then he shook his head. No. Not even Thranduil was so cruel as to taunt him.
"Now is not the time." Legolas pleaded. "And he can stay here. With us." With me, he added in an unspoken appeal.
Thranduil made a graceful gesture, telling his son and prince to shut up. Legolas's teeth clenched shut, but his eyes were a glare of pure anger.
Dain's attention was caught, and he looked at the small bundle, then the prince, and finally to King Thranduil.
"It may be cruel to ask you about this now." The Elven King said slowly. "My son thinks so. But you will no doubt be grieving for a while, and despite your words, I would think to find you at your wife's bedside soon."
Dain dipped his regal head infinitesimally to show that Thranduil's estimations were correct.
"How do you feel about the end of Durin's Line, with the premature deaths of Thorin and his two heirs?"
Dain hissed suddenly, his face turning to a blank mask. Disbelief and raw anger coursed through him. How dare this tall elf king? Of all the questions in the world, that would have been the last he'd have expected.
"What would you give to know it wasn't so?"
A rough bark of a cough escaped the dwarrow king and his breathing stilled. His eyes moved instantly back to the wrapped bundle in the guard's arms. He took in the brittle stillness of the elvish prince, who would not meet his eyes.
"What would I give?" Dain asked hoarsely. "What are you asking? What price would YOU place on such a thing?" He continued bitterly. Hope warred with disgust that the king would dangle such a thing before him and talk about putting a value on it.
"A promise. A simple promise."
Dain's temper moved from broiling hot to a relatively safer simmer. "What kind of promise?" He asked very cautiously.
"Father …." Legolas tried one more time.
"A promise of safety, a promise of a place within your mountain. One of your choosing, of course. But not too low. A promise of training, a promise of family connections as you see fit." Thanduil paused, clearly waiting.
Dain's mind was in a whirl. There was only one possibility that seemed even faintly plausible. Before the Battle of Five Armies there had been a red-haired captain in Thranduil's army. One that had shared longing glances with young Prince Kili. Perhaps they had shared more than a few glances?
"Could it be?"
That voice wasn't his. Deeply startled, everyone turned. Dain paled and nearly swayed on his feet. "My darling, please …"
Queen Lukvin was the picture of tragedy, her body still carrying the weight of her seven months pregnancy that would soon need to be removed from her body in order to save her life. Long raven-black braids hung down her back, curly side-burns contrasted with her creamy skin. Her eyes were filled with hope of all things.
"Could it really be?"
Thranduil made a sound of protest and sorrow. "I did not mean to have this conversation before you Lady Dwarf." His voice dripped with self-loathing. The loss of a child bit deeply to all, but to elves it was a tragedy beyond bearing.
"You bring me a gift beyond all measure and think to apologize?" The queen asked with a tender smile, gesturing for the elven guard to bring her the child. "I do not condemn you, but thank you. What is there better than new life?"
The elven guard hesitated. He looked to his king. Thranduil hesitated, he glanced at the closed off expression of his son and then over to the King Under the Mountain. But Dain's eyes were solely upon his wife. Finally the Elven King made a small gesture and the guard brought the child to the queen.
Dark eyes blinked open as new arms held him. A tiny rosebud mouth moved uncertainly. Queen Lukvin cooed and sniffled to keep back her tears, but her smile was of the utmost gentleness. "He?"
"He." King Thranduil admitted with some reluctance. "I was looking for a place for him within your husband's kingdom. But did not mean to parade the child before you in such a manner as this."
"The mother?" Dain whispered.
Legolas moaned.
"Has faded." Thranduil's face cracked for a moment, letting the truly observant to see his sorrow, then he returned to his usual arrogant look. "Unlike dwarves, when an elf is expecting, the mother chooses how much of her light she infuses the child with. A sharing of their very selves. I do not know if it was a mother's love or a grief over the loss of a husband, but Tauriel shared everything she had within her. There is nothing left to sustain her within this realm of the living."
Queen Lukvin made a sound of protest.
Dain silently was thankful that the same type of pregnancy wasn't among the dwarves. His beautiful wife that he loved so much would have traded her life for any one of the children that they'd lost over the years.
"Husband?" The queen asked in a hopeful tone of voice.
Legolas could no longer keep silent. "They shared an Elvin marriage." Though he did not explain further.
Dain grunted, nodding in acceptance. "It will stand." He avowed, and as king he could make it be so.
"It will not be easy for a child of both races to find their way in this world." Legolas said cautiously. "There will be some that do not wish to have such in their kingdom." He studiously avoided his father's irritated look.
"A dwarfling belongs under the mountain." Thranduil's voice held weariness, as if this argument was of long standing. "Tauriel herself wished him born among stone, not in the forest as is proper."
Dain walked over to his wife, peering down at the child blinking up at him. The boy was definitely dwarven looking, and had Kili's dark melting eyes already. "Dwalin or Gloin perhaps?" He suggested.
"You." The queen shook her head, then smiled. "Me."
Startled, Dain stared at her. "Impossible. No one will stand for a half-elven heir."
"Would you?" Queen Lukvin tightened her hold on the baby and Dain was suddenly unsure if she had any thought of ever relinquishing the child. "I came here to have a baby, and by some miracle I am holding one. When we return with a dwarlfing, who would know otherwise?"
Thranduil sucked in a harsh breath, while Dain stared at his wife. Slowly he grinned. "Returning Durin's Line to the rightful place?"
"He's mine." Lukvin avowed. She looked over at King Thranduil. "He has a name?"
Legolas stepped forward. "Tauriel named him Thorin." He told the royal couple, then held his breath. "She demanded that he be born in a room of stone, to honor his father. Rather than wood. The last thing she spoke, was his name." His grief was almost palatable.
Dain bowed his head in acknowledgement of the elven prince's grief, but he couldn't stop his grin of approval. His hand went to his wife's back as she cradled the newborn.
"Her fading breath brings new life and new hope to the Lonely Mountain." Dain sighed deeply, and took a cleansing breath. "And Erebor has an heir."
"All hail Prince Thorin of Erebor."
"Thorin Stonehelm." Dain amended. "To honor his mother's wish that he be born of stone as a dwarf ought."
"I sorrow for your loss, prince." The dwarven queen sent a sad look at the tall blond warrior.
He hesitated, then bowed respectfully to her. "I sorrow for yours."
The queen smiled, lighting up her entire face. "You have an invitation to visit as often as you like. We have a tradition among the dwarves, it's an old one."
Dain startled, then nodded thoughtfully. "You are thinking of the Shield-Warrior?"
"It is typically someone close to the family. One who can be counted on to step in for protection if anything should happen to the parents while a child is too young to care for themselves."
Legolas did not look at his father before he bowed even deeper than before. "It would be my pleasure and my honor."
Thranduil sighed, but did not protest. He'd gotten what he wanted, Tauriel's little princling in a safe and loving home. It was the last thing he could offer her.
And it was fitting somehow. It was fitting.
o.o.o.o.o
A/N: I usually write survival stories, breaking canon. This morning I wanted to update one of those more hopeful and upbeat stories. But all I could think of was BoFA and how sad it was making me. This is the result. Hopefully the angst and tears are out of my system now.