Last of the Line of Durin

Chapter Two: Queen of Dwarves and Lady of Erebor

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters except for Eliriel, and she does what she wants anyway. Some of you have stated the opinion that Eliriel seems like a Mary Sue and I promise she was not/will not be one. The dwarves see her through the prism of the past for she has been dead for eighty years or so. They are a people who love heroic ballads and as such have made her into one. As always, please review and tell me what you think!

The crowning of the new dwarf-king, Dain Ironfoot, was scheduled for two months after the end of what came to be known as the Battle of the Five Armies. This was an extremely quick layover period from the death of one king to the crowning of the other, especially given the work that had to be done in preparation of the coronation and in clean-up of the battle. Legolas suspected that the dwarves wanted an official seal on all actions undertaken at the mountain, for the kingship of the House of Durin – oldest, proudest and last of the royal Dwarf lines – was of paramount importance and interest to all of the Dwarf clans.

Thranduil had returned to the Forest Realm, but he had left a large contingent of Elves behind to help with the cleanup of Dale and the rebuilding of parts of Erebor. He had placed his son in charge in what Legolas knew to be a sign of respect to Thorin Oakenshield. It was also a way for Thranduil to help Legolas deal with his grief at Tauriel's passing.

The Elf-Captain had been buried next to her prince, and Legolas had no wish, for the moment, to leave her tomb. Decorated with mithril in the shape of stars and emblazoned only with her name, rank, and her relation to the dwarf prince she lay beside, Tauriel had gone to rest with all honors. It had been Legolas who convinced his father to allow this, and Gandalf the Grey who had interceded with Thranduil on Legolas' behalf. When Lord Elrond seconded Gandalf's request, Legolas knew that his father would acquiesce.

Legolas also knew that his extended grief only furthered Thranduil's belief that his son had been in love with the red-haired warrior. Elves mated once, and for eternity, yet even then grief could arise due to unequal pairings and unrequited love. Maeglin of Gondolin had been in love with his first cousin, the Princess Idril, yet she had loved and wedded the mortal Tuor – the Lord Elrond's grandparents. The musician Daeron had loved the incomparable Luthien Tinuviel, but her heart was unmoved by him. The same was true of Nellas – the Doriathrin who had loved the great warrior Turin Turambar, who had had the Doom of Morgoth laid upon him. Finduilas had loved Turin as well, and mayhap he had loved her, but he had married the golden-haired maid of his own people, Niniel, who turned out to be his never-before-seen little sister; the grief of which drove them both to their deaths.

But that had not been Legolas' feelings for Tauriel. He had loved the younger elf-woman like a sister. She had been his closest friend, the one person who could keep up with him, challenge him and even surpass him. She had a wisdom so different from his own, and one which could continually surprise him. She saw the world from a perspective that he found as perplexing as it was fascinating and refreshing. She was so young that her hope and faith in the light had not been dimmed…..and now never would be.

Legolas did not know how to say good-bye to that. Death was unnatural to Elves, and when they were faced with it, they tended to handle it badly. Thranduil had still not moved on from his grief at his wife's death, over a millennia ago now.

Legolas moodily kicked a pebble off the side of the mountain and watched it bounce and ricochet off the stone, from gulley to cliff-face until it tumbled out of sight. The wind rustled disconsolately and rustled the elven prince's hair. Distant voices drifted up on air currents from the work of dwarves, men and elves as they hammered and chiseled and swore at sudden avalanches and the bitter breeze. Legolas could not feel the cold, but he had seen the red faces and bundled forms of men and dwarves and knew that today was the type of weather that led to sickness for them – the first chill of autumn and the precursor of the winter to come.

He was sitting, with his legs dangling over the edge, next to the secret door through which thirteen dwarves and a hobbit had first entered the mountainous lair of the dragon Smaug. It was quiet up here; not even Balin had discovered him up here, and the old dwarf was the wiliest of beings. Legolas had witnessed the venerable dwarf's abilities many times over the past months as he bargained with both Dale and MIrkwood on behalf of his new king, Dain Ironfoot.

Of the dwarf-king himself, Legolas was unsure. Gruff and stocky, with none of Thorin's majesty and innate charisma, the venerated warrior appeared as a poor second to the king the dwarves had lost. Whatever beauty and power Eru had granted to the line of Durin, it was sorely lacking, or had been long lost by the time it arrived at Dain Ironfoot. Nor did the new king make up for his lack of physical presence with stunning displays of wit or cunning. He was obvious and impatient and rude. There was no subtlety in Dain Ironfoot; he barked orders at Elves and Men just as he did dwarves. Obviously used to commanding, he had not gone through fire and blood like Thorin Oakenshield, and thus did not have his strength of character, the rock-stubborn determination of his cousin. Nor did Dain possess the humility and ability for empathy that the princes Fili and Kili had, for he had not come from nothing and earned his right to be counted among warriors due to his own skill; he had been treated a king his whole life and it showed.

Legolas was unsure of the Woodland Realm's continued relations with Erebor since Dain was now the king. And that was something that even he was aware approached the heights of irony, since under Thorin Oakenshield, the Elves and Men had narrowly avoided a war with the Mountain, only due to the machinations of a Dark Lord.

He vaguely wondered what Sauron would say about this if anyone ever told him that he had repaired relations between the species instead of crushing them like he had intended.

He wondered who would be brave enough to tell him.

There was a polite clearing of a throat behind him. Legolas froze, carefully controlling his face, before turning around and showing the visitor – undoubtedly an elf given his or her stealthy approach – the perfect façade of a prince of the Elves.

But it was not an elf at all who stood behind him, but a hobbit. Bilbo Baggins of the Shire hovered shamefacedly in the dwarven doorway, as though unsure whether to great Legolas or to run back the way he had come.

"Er…..Good Morning," the hobbit said at last. He scratched awkwardly behind an ear and shuffled his feet. His clothes were ill-fitting due to having once belonged to men, but they were of good quality and obviously not the ones he had brought with him from the Shire.

"Is it?" Legolas asked skeptically, and Bilbo smiled.

"I rather think so. The birds are singing. No one is dying…" he trailed off, not knowing how to continue that sentence without stepping upon Legolas' own personal grief. Enough people had died already, and their memory was still too raw and near for lighthearted jokes. "Anyway…..I was just sent up here to ask you to come down for a welcoming ceremony. Apparently Lord Elrond's sons have arrived and are waiting to be presented to Dain and Bard. And to you."

"Thank you for the message, Master Hobbit," Legolas said, formally. "Please inform them that I will be down momentarily." He waited until the slight whisper of hobbit feet had disappeared before he quietly departed to his rooms via the other way. He managed to make it to his rooms, slightly freshen up his appearance and place the official circlet of his royal status around his head, and make it to the throne room before Bilbo Baggins had returned to relay Legolas' message. It might have been childish, but the millennia old elven prince felt the urge to smirk at the hobbit as he did a double-take when he saw the silver-haired elf.

Bilbo shook his head and vaguely smiled, not at all offended, and took his place next to Gandalf the Grey and Lord Elrond. Dain Ironfoot sat upon a hastily erected throne. To his right stood his top lieutenants. To his left were the ten dwarves who had followed Thorin from the Blue Mountains and had survived the Battle of the Five Armies.

Bard and his three children, dressed in elegant clothes to show the newly acquired wealth of Dale, stood to Legolas' right.

The Great Hall was in an ongoing state of construction. Although the rubble from Thorin's battle with Smaug had been cleared up, the hole towards the top of the cavern had yet to be repaired. Scaffolding had been erected up there, and around all of the great pillars as the dwarfs tested for structural integrity, and tools were strewn about, for work went on in this room only at night. During the day it was in use for the conduct of the king's business.

The room really was a magnificent feat of dwarven engineering. Carved out of the very mountain itself, it was – like the rest of Erebor – a very dark green color, so that it look slightly underwater, slightly as though it was located deep in the heart of a primeval forest. Ornate symbols covered the pillars, and new banners, showing the symbol of the House of Durin, as well as Dain Ironfoot's own personal coat of arms, were being hung from high up along stone rafters. When the new lighting was installed – on schedule for Dain's coronation – and the elven lights strewn about – which were a gift from King Thranduil – Legolas knew that the room would be truly magnificent.

The far door was opened by the guards, and three figures walked through. Although they wore travelling cloaks and tunics, the garments were of extremely fine make. All three, male, were young looking, with dark-hair and – as they walked the length of the room closer to the king – grey eyes. Their faces were elven fair, and their features were so alike that it was obvious they were of the kin of Elrond. Two of them, with matching long hair, were close enough to be twins.

"Lords Elladan and Elrohir," Balin intoned, waving at the twins, and then he waved towards the youngest, the one with the shoulder-length dark hair and the…..rounded ears. "And Lord Estel. Sons of Lord Elrond of Rivendell."

The third son of Elrond was a mortal man.

Legolas stood still while Dain and Bard proffered their greetings. No one said anything. Did they even notice? Was this somehow not a big deal, that one of the greatest Elves in all of Middle Earth had a son counted among the race of men? That he was Elrond's actual son, Legolas did not questions for a moment. The resemblance was too uncanny for anything else. But that meant that Elrond had had a son with a human woman…..and he had not married her. Lord Elrond's wife, the elven Lady Celebrian, had sailed West many centuries ago. The Elf-Lord was still bound to her though, and could not marry again. For an Elf to have a child out of wedlock, even an Elf of mixed ancestry like Lord Elrond, well…

"I see you are confused," Bard whispered, as the young Elf-Lords bowed at last to their father, and then were swept up in a hug.

"It is a matter within the Elven community," Legolas responded, brusquely, "you would not understand."

"The youngest is not Elrond's biological son," Bard continued anyway.

"What? No, that's impossible. Of course he's Lord Elrond's son…..otherwise…."

Bard shrugged. "The Wizard told me that Elrond adopted the boy, and loves him as though he were his own, but they are only distantly related."

Legolas did not answer, and so Bard turned away and went forward to discuss something with Balin. Legolas was left standing next to Sigrid. Bard's two other children had darted forward to be introduced, but Sigrid stayed regally in her place. The eldest child of the new King of Dale was a born queen, and Legolas privately thought that it was a pity the crown – although not yet smelted – would go to her younger brother. Sigrid was compassionate and dutiful, but she was strong-willed and possessed the ability to command. Already she had taken over most of the architectural aspects of rebuilding Dale; foremost among her concerns were proper sanitation. Lady Sigrid had not approved of Lake Town's lack in this regard.

Legolas had hear that Dwalin – Thorin's former right-hand dwarf – thoroughly agreed with her.

Lady Sigrid had taken the loses from the Battle of the Five Armies almost as hard as Legolas himself, and the prince mildly suspected her of harboring feelings for the eldest of the dwarf princes – the one who should have been king after Thorin – Fili.

He only vaguely remembered Kili's brother, taken up as he was by Tauriel's inappropriate romance with the younger prince, but from what he did know, the heir apparent had been dutiful, intelligent, and much less hot-headed than either his brother or his uncle. Legolas suspected he would have made a good king.

Dain Ironfoot burped loudly and slouched in the throne chair. He did not stand up even now to shake the hands of Elrond's sons.

He would have made a much better king than the one the dwarves have now, Legolas thought rebelliously, and from Dwalin's face and Gloin's wrinkled nose, and even Bilbo's raised eyebrow, he knew that Thorin's, Fili's and Kili's companions agreed.

Lady Sigrid bent closer to him. "Are you alright, Prince Legolas?" she asked, kindly.

Legolas nodded. He was as well as could be, given the circumstances.

Sigrid eyed him for a moment, before placidly observing, "Elrond's three sons are a handsome bunch. I've heard that he has a daughter of extraordinary beauty."

Legolas nodded again.

"I especially like the youngest one. The man. He has an…..innocence, but also a strong-willed gaze. It is quite appealing."

Legolas' attention was drawn once more to Elrond's youngest. He still was not convinced that the young man was not Elrond's by blood, and his distaste for this theory must have shown in his face for Sigrid laughed shortly.

"Fili told me that the Elves have strange customs. Stranger than the dwarves." She patted him on the arm. "My father told me that the youngest, Estel, is of the kin of Elrond through both his birth-mother's and his birth-father's side, for he is of the Men of West. He is long-lived, like them, and his ancestors came from over the sea many, many centuries ago. Young Estel will one day be a king of his people, like you will be a king of yours." There was a pause. "And my brother will be king of ourse."

Legolas shot the young woman a quick, interrogative glance. "And you will never be queen."

Sigrid shrugged. "Several weeks ago it would not have caused me the slightest pause, because that was how things were done. That is how they have always been done. The eldest son is heir to his father, and power comes from the father…I would not have fought either, for fighting is the province of men. But then Tauriel, your friend, came in. And she saved us. As did you. And I started thinking. And then Fili told me about his mother…and now things that were once so clear and certain, no longer seem so…."

"Set in stone?" Legolas asked, slightly joking. Sigrid smiled and nodded, and someone off to Legolas' left chuckled.

The elven prince and human princess turned to find Elrond's youngest, the mysterious Estel, standing there, next to his father. Lord Elrond smiled at Legolas and Sigrid. "May I present my son, Estel, whose birth name is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, of the House of my brother, Elros."

Sigrid curtseyed and Legolas nodded. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Estel," Sigrid said, and then fluidly stepped forward and took Elrond's arm. "My Lord Elrond, I've been meaning to speak with you regarding certain architectural features of your home, Imladris. I've been trying to improve the streets of Dale and I was wondering if you could explain to me, in depth, about…." And with that she walked off and their conversation was lost, and Legolas was left staring at Estel.

The man – very young, still a boy really – had a bright, mischievous sparkle in his eyes, and his gaze was friendly. He was exceedingly handsome, and clearly had been trained to fight, for his body was toned and agile. He wore the royal blue that was the hallmark of the House of Elrond, and he carried his weapons about his person with ease. "You are distant kin as well!" the boy said, jovially, "For we are both of the House of Elu." The Sindarin Royal House had produced many heroes and kings among both men and elves, and none more so than the descendants of Luthien; of which Aragorn was clearly one.

Legolas nodded. "My great-grandmother, Eliriel, was Elu Thingol's younger sister."

Aragorn Estel clasped Legolas' hand, and looked like he would have hugged the silver-haired prince if Legolas hadn't taken a hasty step back. The prince felt the childish urge to say, 'no touching,' but restrained himself. He hurriedly dropped the young human's hand.

It was then that Lord Elrond returned, trailed by the wandering wizard, Gandalf the Grey. Legolas had had quite a bit of dealings with the crotchety old man by now, and found him taciturn, quick to anger and very certain of his own abilities, but had found, much to his own surprise, that he was beginning to respect the powerful eternal traveler. The prince had met Radaghast numerous times, but had never found him to be more than an eccentric hermit with a strange fixation on animals.

Legolas felt a brief pang of sadness at the knowledge that the strange, brown-clothed man had been lost in a battle against the Dark Lord. Much that had seemed eternal to him was now changed, and lost forever. And looking back, Legolas wondered how much he had missed in Radaghast's demeanor that might have clued him in to the little, old man's true personality, and deep power. He wondered how much his own arrogance and certainty in his own superiority – and in his father's superiority – had blinded him.

He wondered if Tauriel had seen something more in Radaghast. Something that he had missed.

He was almost certain that she had.

Gandalf wacked the elven prince with the back of his staff. Legolas jumped. "Pay attention, young elf," he snapped. Legolas could feel Estel's smugness from all the way over here and sullenly – and discreetly – rubbed his behind where the wood had struck it.

"Pay attention to what?"

"Gandalf and I have a proposition to put to both you and my son," Lord Elrond said, raising an eyebrow at Gandalf's antics. He waved at his old friend to explain farther.

The Grey Wizard had just opened his mouth to do just that when he was interrupted by the blaring of trumpets. They came from outside with a bright, commanding sound that caused many dwarves in the room to suddenly stand to attention. Even Dain Ironfoot was now on his feet.

"Who is it?" the dwarf king commanded.

A guard came in at a run, but before he could do more than whisper in the king's ear there was a sudden pounding on the doors to the Great Hall itself, before they were swung open and a huge party of dwarves filled the entryway.

They were richly dressed in black and silver, their weapons were polished and prominent on their backs and at their sides, and there faces were both stern and friendly. Banners which also proclaimed the House of Durin were carried by two young male dwarfs at the front, and at their entrance the dwarves of Thorin Oakenshield's company set up a murmuring.

But it was the leader of these dwarves who drew all attention. She was tall, for a dwarf. And she was undoubtedly female. She didn't even possess a beard like most dwarven women. Her features were harsh and beautiful, her hair very dark, and her eyes were as dark as her son's had been. She walked forwards into the Hall and Legolas, beholding her, knew that she could be none other than Dis, sister of Thorin, daughter of Thrain.

Last of the House of Durin.

She had the bearing of a queen. Even Dain Ironfoot was silent as she slowly paced forwards, until, with a mild oath, Dwalin detached himself from the other dwarves clustered around the throne, crossed the Great Hall and seamlessly took his place behind the lady's right side. And as though his movement released some sort of spell, the other dwarves of Thorin's company immediately followed suit. Bilbo the hobbit went with them.

Gandalf had stepped back and was watching the proceedings with a strange gleam in his eye, and Dain started shouting.

Lady Dis ignored the dwarf king's ranting. She ignored the guards that came to halt her progress, but were obviously too much in awe to actually touch her, and she walked steadily, implacably forwards until she came to the dais, directly beneath the throne where her brother should have sat.

Everyone else was silent. Dain's yelling for her to halt, to show him the respect due to him as king of dwarves, and for his guards to throw her out, echoed around the Great Hall.

Dis walked up the steps until she towered over the much shorter Dain. She then stared at him, in complete silence, until eventually even his ranting was ceased, and he subsided sullenly back onto his throne. At last she spoke.

"Greetings, Dain, son of Nain. Blessings be upon your House and your Line." Her tone implied that if he didn't tread very carefully, that blessings weren't the only things she could call down upon his House and his Line.

Legolas saw Gandalf give a quick grin, and saw Bilbo's sudden eye widening. She was undoubtedly Thorin Oakenshield's sister.

The dwarf queen's hand rested casually upon an elegant sword hilt. As she moved that hand and extended it towards Dain for him to kiss, all eyes were drawn to the fact that her party was so very numerous, and extremely well-armed. This was a power play, pure and simple, and Legolas held his breath as he waited to see what move Dis and Dain would each make.

"It is a shame that the dwarves of the Blue Mountains did not receive an invitation to the crowning of the king of Erebor," Dis continued now, her tone light and deceptively polite. "Especially odd considering that the last heir of the House of Durin was living there." She raised her hand higher, until it was directly under Dain's nose.

Dain Ironfoot looked from the hand and then up into the face of the stern and terrifying dwarf queen. Then he took her hand gently in his, and raised it to his lips. He stood up from his throne and bowed to her. "A most grievous oversight, I am sure, Lady Dis. We welcome you most humbly to the Mountain, and I will have a suite of rooms prepared for you, and accommodation found for your dwarves immediately. We are honored that you could join us for the coronation."

And Legolas knew that war had been declared. Dain would not concede his power without a fight.

Dis raised an eyebrow, but her eyes glinted, and she knew exactly what Dain had decided. Her next words though, reminded all and sundry that she was not just a rival to the throne, she was a woman who had suffered more than anyone should. "First," she said, her tone completely serious, her eyes still. "I would see the tombs of my sons. And the final resting place of my brother."

Dain's eyes widened, and guilt flashed across his face. He had obviously momentarily forgotten this as well. To Legolas' surprise the fat, grisly dwarf king shot to his feet, extended a hand for Dis, and led her gently from the Hall. "Right this way, my lady." And he sounded like he meant it.

&…&…&…&…&…&

Note: So, what did you think? Do you like Dis so far? And Aragorn? Sigrid was a surprise to me, because I had no intention of including her in the story, but she was just begging to be put in, and she'll have her own subplot not really related to the main bulk of the story. And I've seen a bunch of people wondering about Sigrid and Fili, and so I put them as an almost-thing as well.