"Are you daft?"
"Am I what, ma'am?"
"Daft! That color is all wrong!"
A flurry of skirts spun the stout dwarven matron on her pedestal round to face her seamstress, the intricately braided and beaded gold red hair clipping the younger woman in the nose.
"I told you; dark mauve with a dash of peppered silver! What is this!? It's light mauve with a bloody barrel full of peppered silver! It's disgraceful!"
The seamstress eyes watered, but she stood and bowed low to the furious dwarf before her.
"My lady, I apologize for -"
"For what? The absolutely ridiculous amount of gold I've spent to get this dress? It's absurd! I can barely keep my children fed as it is, and -"
She continued on in this manner for many minutes, the seamstress's assistant shivering and desperately trying to hold back the tears. Her master was out for lunch, leaving her here by herself to take care of the "easiest woman he had ever had the honor of tailoring for."
Easy my arse, this woman is worse than Smaug! She was going to start breathing fire soon and burn down the whole shop, probably after she spears me and eats me like shish! Good riddance to it, all of these fancy golden dresses, they're all ugly. I only took this pissy job to make grandmother happy, and she's so hopped up on herbs now Madgi is better conversation. That' s it, as soon as Master Fildan comes back I'm leaving and never looking back! I'll bake cakes and pies like I've always wanted and Urtread and I can move to the farms and start that family he's always talking about, with lots of pigs to keep Madgi company, and we can go to Erebor's farmer's market and never have to worry about my batty grandmother -
Jangling and intricate stitchery startled her out of her thoughts. She looked up at the man now standing to her left, his beard and armbands streaked with silver and his blue eyes questioning the girl. He looked to be just 200, if not a little older, perfectly middle aged for a dwarf. He was noble, intimidating, she was getting a little tingly just looking at him, like he knew what she was thinking and feeling deep down in her -
*ahem*
...
What was I - Oh! Yes!
-and he was almost exactly like the King, a carbon copy if she was honest, the perfect likeness to ...
"MY LORD! Your highness I! I'm deeply sorry for this, I-I-I-"
"Don't bother, lady seamstress. My wife is just being difficult."
This revelation startled her yet again, and her bow brought her lower to the floor. The matron laughed and stepped down from her pedestal, arching a dainty hand out to the king, and he took it, bringing it to his lips and pecking a chaste kiss upon her ringless hand.
"My lady Ruain, you are frightening the poor girl."
"Oh, but my lord Thorin, it's such fun to frighten off Fildan's apprentices! Remember the time I sent that little braided one screaming for her mother! Ah... good times."
"That was yesterday, Ruain. And it was not funny."
She harrumphed. '
"Thili found it funny."
"Thili is a babe in swaddling, Ruain. Try to take that into consideration when you claim he's one of the better judges of humour."
She smirked at her love, blue eyes twinkling with delight, despite the age that was trying to dull them. The younger seamstress was all but forgotten, scooching ever closer to the back door, proffered purse in her hand. Just as her hand was on the handle to escape, Master Fildan, royal dressmaker for the queen and her elder brother, made a quiet appearance. His arms blocked his fleeing apprentice and herded her to the front where the Dragon Tamer King of Erebor and his Tamed Dragon Queen were still bantering.
"... but that can't stop you, Dragon Tamer, now can it?"
In any other circumstance, Thorin would have pinked and glared at Ruain. In fact, in every circumstance before, that's exactly what happened. But his wife was being particularly feisty today, and he was feeling the heat. His cheeks visibly reddened, his teeth clenched, and his knees knocked together. Only the fact that he had his "stealth cloak" on (Ruain's words, not his) kept the bright red and shaking knees from the gaze of any but his wife.
Fildan coughed and drew their attention from each other to the pouting girl beside him. The apprentice was startled to find two of the most powerful dwarves in reclaimed Erebor now watching her quizzically. If she wasn't red before, she certainly was now. The silence lengthened, and she realized Master Fildan was waiting for her to act.
"Uh.. my liege - lieges? Um, my lord and - your highnesses, I -"
Thorin waved his hand for her to stop and looked to Fildan.
"Fildan, if you're waiting for her to return the purse, don't bother. She can have all that is within."
Fildan nodded and looked to the apprentice once again. Another silence from Fildan and finally Yima had enough.
"Master Fildan, What?!"
Ruain grinned and looked to her brother. He didn't anger easily, but never disappointed in his retorts. Fildan gestured to the scissors stuck sideways in her bun, still tight thanks to durable dwarven braids. Yima reddened yet again (In fact, Ruain couldn't remember what color she really was) and yanked the scissors out of her hair, handing them to Fildan. He accepted it graciously and she bowed, sprinting out the door at his nod. He looked after her, waiting until she was nearly at the back door before calling,"Bright and early tomorrow Yima!"
The glare she sent back at him merely made him sigh.
Ruain giggled and patted her brother's back. "Ah, brother, you really must get some more reliable apprentices. The refugees are coming in by the wagonload now, you should find some!" Now, Fildan really glared. "If you didn't scare them all off, I would have a bit more then one left!" She laughed and nodded. "Oh, yes brother. But you must expect it of the the Tamed Dragon, mustn't you?" He rolled his eyes and looked to Thorin. "It seems you didn't tame the dragon much, did you?" Thorin nodded and held out his hand for Ruain. "No, but I must be happy with what I have made of her." She smiled and reciprocated. "Even If I bite a little?"
"Even so."
Fildan shook his head as they walked out together, realizing too late she still hadn't paid for his dress.
King and Queen walked arm in arm down the bustling Erebor market street. While most of the permanent shop fronts were completely and utterly destroyed by Smaug, for all the gold that was within, that didn't stop the returning dwarves using the district. Most prefered to set up stalls and booths in the wide roads and in the square, since dragon fire was hard to fix and the years of dust was making everyone sneeze. However, the streets were soon cramped and crowded, even for dwarves, and everyone had little room to move very quickly. Not that most minded. Many hadn't seen each other for years, and everyone was happy to walk slow and to chat with each other amicably, reminiscing and mourning those lost in the dragon attack. But what could always be heard after a tale of Old Feham Golberd and his magic lute or Lady Rith's yellow dress was how proud they were of Thorin, bless the Reclaimer, khazad-dum!*
Ruain smiled to hear it. For too long she heard of how the Prince did naught to reclaim what was lost, how he should be trying to find the lost Thrain or at least build another home for them all! Now however, most could only be thankful the dragon was dead and they had a home again, even if it was a dusty and razed home. Ruain spotted many young faces, and even more pregnant dwarven ladies then she expected. It seemed the prospect of a new, practically free home had excited many.
She grinned and glanced at Thorin. She remembered how scared she was of him leaving, to finally kill the dragon that had their home in his clutches, and how .. excited she had become. She was glad, as a homesick dwarf, but terrified as his wife, for he might never come back, even more so with the discovery of her pregnancy. She remembered how beautiful Erebor was, but also remembered the corruption and the greed that invaded her people and even herself when all that glittered was their gold. She didn't know Thorin as a dwarven lady, but she knew he would never have loved her if he had.
Her morbid thoughts drew her smile from her aging face, and Thorin caught her. "Ruain, what troubles you?"
She glanced at him again, trying her best to hide the frown, but knew he saw through it.
"I'm ... I'm remembering, Thorin. What we were before. When gold was our only thought. Soon, it will be like that again."
He nodded. "I know. If not for you, my love, I would be the same as my grandfather. It will happen, maybe not while I'm alive, but soon. We will have to wait and see."
"But I don't want to see it Thorin! Thelan shouldn't have to see it! We should give him a better Erebor then that."
Thorin's eyes grew steely, and she knew he was dangerously close to anger. He had done much to give his son a better kingdom then what he had, and any shortening of his dedication angered him. As it should, for he had sacrificed nearly his whole life for his children, but, still...
"*sigh* ... never you mind me Thorin. Just a mother's worry. You are doing all you can, and you can not control our people's minds any more then you can their precious gold. Forget I mentioned it, Thorin."
He glared at her for a few more seconds, but when she did not meet his gaze, he knew the argument ended.
They roamed the streets for another hour, mostly in silence, for fear of starting another argument and simply wanting to enjoy each other's company. A few of the older dwarves recognized them, especially Thorin and his braiding, bowing out of respect, but most were too busy cleaning and chatting to notice much of the pair.
They soon came to the market square, booths and stalls spaced out a little more evenly to give the customers some room, and spent another hour browsing the toys, trinkets, weapons, and stone cake stalls scattered about. Thorin practically dragged Ruain to the scroll and book vendor, an older woman with her grandsons who had reclaimed her untouched store, with most of the books intact. They spent another fair hour wandering and reading the old books, before handing another laden bag of gold to the old woman, who practically wept with joy at her King's kindness. She insisted that they leave with as many books as they could carry, since the palace library was buried under rubble, but when they could barely walk with the weight, she sent her grandsons with the bags of books to the palace instead, Thorin writing a short note to let them pass for the guards.
Ruain had to drag Thorin out, resuming their walk about. They could never cover the whole market in a day, even with the few amount of refugees returning, but they certainly tried. Finally, after a tiring day and four bags of gold distributed (to Yima, the book vendor, and then an ailing old guard and a homeless young woman), they started to walk back to the palace, tired, but feeling better for having helped some.
They were only part of the way there, however, when a commotion at the gates below them drew their attention. A caravan had arrived, humans from Dale it looked like, with a few dwarves accompanying. The guards, little pinpricks against the mosaic tiles, had cornered off a pair, what looked like a human and a dwarf, from the rest, shouting and yelling. They couldn't hear what was being said, for they were too far away, but it peaked their interest enough to want to find out what had angered the guards so much. They jogged the rest of the way, as much as Ruain could in her dress, to the palace gates, the guards recognizing them as soon as they approached.
"Call for mounts, Guned, three. Urtread, accompany me." They bowed and did as their king commanded. Another guard, in lighter armor than the others and panting, approached the king from the double doors leading to the throne room. He waved and ran to the king, stopping and panting for a moment before speaking.
"My lord, your presence is needed at the gates."
Thorin nodded, guessing correctly that the matter was important enough for their attentnio and gestured to Guned, who was pulling three plain saddled goats from the stable.
"Thank you, courier. We saw. Take an hour to rest and then return to work."
The courier nodded. "Thank you my lord."
He turned for the barracks and the King, Queen, and escort mounted and turned their attention to the awaiting gates.
*Apologies! I don't know dwarven blessings, so that's just what I made up. It's supposed to mean Blessed be, but IDK what it should be. SORRY!
A/N HELLO AGAIN! It's been ages hasn't It! Sorry about that, but life can get in the way sometimes. Just for a recap, I am still tryin to work out Have A Heart, but it's a little difficult, since I'm out of inspiration for it. BUT, I have a new peace offering for you all! Enjoy this unexpected little tidbit I've been sitting on. There will be more (fingers crossed!) probably in the near future, but I just hope you like it! Just for clarification, Kili is still alive, Thorin is obviously still alive, Fili died, Ruain only has a brother, Ruain WAS KIDDING ( but being a b****), and Thorin and Ruain have four kids, which I will introduce as this goes along. You know two, Thelan and Thili, and you will meet them before long, along with the other two. Again, thank you for reading this kind of short First Chapter, but please review and Keelah Selai!
P.S. Don't worry! You'll now everyone's fate before long. Thank you!