Chapter 2: An Awkward Reunion
Three weeks later...
The company now approached Erebor, having made a last push to reach it several hours after the sun had set. It was alight and aglow, and very large. Malin was exhausted, and she could only remember some servants taking the "Missus Fundin" to her quarters. Balin and Dwalin were not there, and she wouldn't even know them if they had been. She collapsed in bed.
The next day, she stayed in her room until a servant came and told her to dress, for she was summoned to court that morning.
"Lady Malin", the guards announced to the court, "Daughter of Fundin."
She entered, dressed a lot better than she was in the journey, a veil draped around her neck (but not over her head and face) in the old ways of the Iron Mountain, her face bleak and dark and her eyes hazy.
"Lady Malin daughter of Fundin, at your service." she bowed before the court and the King.
Balin approached her,
"Sister."
What a reunion, Malin thought ironically. In front of the whole court.
She bowed before him, and addressed him respectfully as "Lord Balin, my lord."
He was her guardian, her authority, and she took care for be respectful, even if she was resentfully distant.
He stepped forward embraced kindly and gave her a hug, which surprised her and made her stiffen.
"We have a lot to catch up on after you recover from your travel " he said wistfully and a little regretfully. He paused, and said, "Life will be prosperous here and we can live as family like we could not before."
She smiled back tentatively and said "Yes, my lord."
Dwalin folded his arms and stalked up to her, right behind Balin. He frowned and bowed.
Everything was ceremonial between them, but he was sizing her up, curious to know what a sister of his would look like, for he scarcely remembered the little child from... was it eighty years before?
She was shorter than Balin, but her hair was a clear, greyless and dirty shade of brown like Dwalin's. Her beard was thick and full, her hair long and unbraided, just like Balin's except with a half of it up in a knot at the back. She was stern in visage, and two daggers hung from her belt. Other than that, she was completely unadorned and plain, a deliberate choice she had made to show her indifference to the wealth of gold and gems in Erebor as opposed to the very useful namesake of the Iron Hills.
Malin was wearing a very plain and loosely cut dark crimson gown in the same shade of Balin's. It was warm and thick, but matronly and not very flattering. A large maroon geometric pattern was woven into the cloth, making it resemble curtain fabric. Malin was nearing "middle age", and certainly looked every day of it.
No, his sister was not a beauty, Dwalin concluded, but at least she wore no tattoos, at least not any visible ones. She had Balin's eyes and nose and muscles, but Dwalin's hair. Her hair was long and thick and very neat.
Malin thought Balin looked similar to her memories of him, except a lot older and whiter. Dwalin, she noticed smugly, had lost his ridiculous shock of upstanding hair over the years, and was covered in tattoos. She tried to get a better look at them, to read them, but as the eyes of the court were on her, well, she didn't want to stare so obviously at her brother.
She looked around and took her surroundings in. Malin decided that she didn't think much of Erebor, or of the court. The King dismissed her with a passing glance and the princes were slightly in awe of her personage - they didn't even know Dwalin had a sister, and shuddered at the thought of it. The words "Dwalin" and "sister" didn't quite go.
Balin was only thinking of how much she resembled their mother, the mother she had never met.
As for Dis, who sat beside the throne, she briefly appraised this dwarrowdamwho looked old as herself. How boring. Dis nodded indifferently at Malin, and Malin inclined her head in a sort of bow.
I remember the frightened little girl, thought Dis. My, she could really howl. She cried louder than I did after the Battle. What happened to her all this time?
We are not to be friends, then. Malin thought grumpily. Dis was the only woman in Erebor so far, but they didn't really get much of a connection. Some of the other dwarves though, looked more likable. Malin was abhorrent to the idea that Dis should take Dlysi's place in her friendship. Malin was unconsciously determined to dislike everything about Erebor.
Gloin saw her across the courtroom and noticed that she looked glum, and in a rare fit of sympathetic awareness, realized she probably didn't like being Erebor.
She's so much like our aunt, he whispered to Oin, who didn't catch a word, You can see the family resemblance.
Malin stood by the side and ignored most of the proceedings around her. Behind her, a Blue Mountain dwarf with elaborately styled hair was trying to sneak past behind her to Dwalin, and she had keen senses and noticed it.
What a stealth! He would make a good burglar.
She continued her silent observations of various characters in the courtroom (Malin was very good at deductions) and amused herself quietly until the midday meal was announced, and Balin took her by the arm to the dining hall.
Balin and Dwalin were trying to make small talk as she sat with them at the table, but Malin was content to stare at her food and reply them softly and briefly.
Gloin noticed the awkwardness between the three and sat down opposite Malin, and smiling widely, asked what she thought of Erebor and how easy was it to settle down, as a woman. His wife was due to arrive very soon, he said.
Malin had looked in surprise when he had introduced himself as "Gloin, son of Groin". So a cousin then, like her cousin Lord Dain. She decided that she could identify some family, and they had a rather pleasant conversation. Oin was next to Gloin, and he couldn't pick up everything that was being said, but well, they were very friendly and kind and told her what she most wanted to know about Erebor. Malin tried hard to remember them, and did manage to conjure up a picture of two stout cousins, one brown-haired and one with very red hair.
Gloin was eager for Malin to meet his wife Ghiza who was on her way to Erebor, and told most interesting things about trade in the Blue Mountains. Malin didn't say much, but the conversation flowed a lot more easily becaused she realized Gloin had a sharp and quick mind for business, like herself.
Balin and Dwalin felt relieved that they could quietly eat whilst Malin listened to Gloin launch into garrulous description of his son Gimli, having been reminded of life in the Blue Mountains.
What a loving father, Malin thought of Gloin. His son is Mahal-blessed.
After the meal, Balin got up,
"Dwalin's free today, I believe" he said to Malin, "But I have to sit in the King's council. I was thinking of taking you around Erebor..."
He looked expectantly at Dwalin, so Dwalin swallowed, not looking up from his plate, and said,
"T'would be m'pleasure."
So he left his meal, took Malin by the arm and they trotted around Erebor together. The routes Dwalin took were quite quiet. He said nothing much, but did ask after her needs when he returned her to her quarters.
"Thank you, " she replied, "But I have no needs. Clothes I have, and food is provided, so I shall just take a few weeks to accustomed myself to living in this mountain before trying to find an occupation."
"That is good, sister," said Dwalin, and with that he was gone.
She shut the door and decided to take a nap.
Author's Note: Thanks to all of you guys for your favs and follows. And BoryBorys for the review! Lemme know if you guys have feedback or suggestions. I think Malin has a lot of underlying issues, which make her so grumpy and emotionally reserved most of the time, as you can read in this chapter. The Fundinuls have a long life span (Dwalin lives up to 340 years, I believe) so Malin, though not very young, definitely has not actually become an old maid, though in this chapter, she behaves and dresses like she's long past the prime of her life*. On the whole, I'm going to write her as quite heavily invested in and contented with female bromances, just like most characters in Tolkien's world.