Well, we get to the actual proposals this week in all their awful and painful glory. Honestly, there should be manuals written about How To…. in Erebor. The author would make a fortune, LOL!

Chp II

A Whole Raft of Proposals!

"And speaking of marriage…." said Young Thorin. Brangwyn looked up at him and wondered what he was about to say, thinking that he was looking more pompously arrogant than usual. For a fleeting moment, she imagined his childhood in the Iron Hills with his rough, unaffectionate father. Is that what had made him feel that he needed to flaunt his position as the heir of Durin? Those feelings of helplessness and inadequacy seeping through from his former life? And, as usual, she wanted to give him a hug.

"As you must know," the prince continued after a slight pause, "as the heir of Durin," and Brangwyn smiled inwardly, "I am the most important person in all the dwarven kingdoms after Thorin." He looked at her to see what response his words had elicited but she just politely nodded. "Whoever I marry will one day be queen of the wealthiest, if not the greatest, kingdom in the whole of Middle-earth." He glanced down at her again, but she still sat there with the faintest smile playing on her lips. Young Thorin upped his game.

"I come from a great and glorious line. In contrast, your father is a mere blacksmith. And yet…."

"Thorin was a blacksmith for years in Ered Luin," she interrupted quietly.

"And yet," he continued, "your lineage does not deter me from offering myself in marriage."

Brangwyn was stunned. That was the last thing she had expected him to say. One half of her heart was doing little leaps of joy. Was not this what she had desired secretly, in the quiet watches of the night: to be married to the heir of Durin? This beautiful youth whom she could mould and shape into a fine husband and an excellent king. Yes! She had always known she could do it, and now here was her chance. Perhaps he wanted to marry her for the wrong reason – that overwhelming desire to take her to his bed – but she knew, she just knew that this was a mere starting point and that she could take his feelings for her and make them into something more.

But, the other half of her heart felt cold and angry. How dare he speak so arrogantly of his power and his wealth as if they were the only things that would tempt her! How dare he make odious comparisons between her lineage and his own, when she knew her father was one of the finest dwarves she had ever known, someone who was worth ten of Dain!

And not one word of love or even affection.

She nodded her head graciously and tried to keep calm. "I thank you for this offer," she said coolly, "as any woman would who had just been offered a crown. I shall consider it this evening and give you my answer tomorrow." Then she stood and gestured with her hand as if an audience with her had come to an end.

Young Thorin gave her a disbelieving gape but her aloof manner was such that he could only make her a curt bow and back from the room.

.o00o.

Half an hour later and Brangwyn was still wondering what her answer should be. Did the prince just want her for his plaything and was marriage the only route to his desires? Could she live within such a marriage? And she remembered how she had first come to Erebor, willing to tie herself into a loveless marriage with Thorin. But, her perceptions had changed. She had seen the love that existed between Thorin and Thranduil and now she wanted some of that for herself. The prince made her heart turn little somersaults when she saw him and she couldn't bear to marry him if there was no love but only sexual desire in return.

And then there came another knock at her door.

Dain had been brooding about her all day and had finally decided that he would not wait any longer either. And he strode into Brangwyn's apartment with all the confidence of one who was used to getting his own way. He kissed her hand and then led her to a chair and bowed her into it.

The dwarf woman wondered what he wanted - and then her heart sank. No! Surely he hadn't come to propose as well? Thorin's visit to Thranduil had definitely triggered something here. And it was something she neither sought nor desired.

Dain stood in what he assumed was a majestic posture, one hand tucked behind his back, the other stroking his great beard.

"Dearest Brangwyn," he began, as if reading out a speech he had memorised to her, "be not afraid of the greatness that is about to fall at your unsuspecting feet. My wife of many years, who sadly died when my son was little more than a baby, was ever aware of the honour that I had bestowed upon her when I asked for her hand; for, with such a contract, comes privilege, position and great esteem." Brangwyn sat not uttering a word. Did neither of them think to speak about love?

Dain, confident that she was suitably stunned into silence by what he was implying, pressed on. "Neither be afraid that I am too old to perform the duties of a husband, for you will find that I am as virile as in my younger days and I expect to father many more children." This was, in fact, the duty that he was most looking forward to and the one that filled Brangwyn with the most distaste.

"And so, I offer you my hand and my kingdom," he said, bowing low before her, "and I give you this ring as a sign of our betrothal." At this, he thrust under her nose an open box in which sat a very large and rather ugly gold ring. Well, at least I'm getting a ring from this one, Brangwyn thought in dazed amusement.

"You accept, of course," said Dain sharply when she made no move to take the ring but continued to sit there as if turned to stone. The ring was important. Once she accepted this, she was also accepting him in her bed.

"You do me great honour," she said slowly; and Dain smiled smugly. "But, one of my tender years must have time to think or else be considered unmaidenly." The king felt a measure of frustration because he had bathed this morning in readiness for the pleasures of her flesh that night. But he nodded in agreement at her seemly answer. This one knew how to behave and would make him an appropriate queen.

"I shall have your answer tomorrow then?" he asked. And she nodded in relief that he had accepted her response without any fuss.

.o00o.

Back in Mirkwood, Thranduil sat expressionless as Thorin declared himself.

"What I am about to propose to you, I have, of course, already discussed with Balin."

How dare he pore over our private concerns with his counsellor!

"And we understand that the dignity of dwarves may be compromised if we set my plan into action."

And what of the dignity of elves? And, for goodness' sake, what are you talking about Thorin?

"Sometimes all personal desires must be set aside if they offend too deeply a proud race."

What, Thorin, what?

"And yet, although the dwarves have despised the elves for many years, I have thought about it, struggled to do the right thing and have decided that I cannot let you go, even though Balin counsels against this scheme. In spite of all my fears, I cannot resist any longer and must declare my love officially for you…."

Officially?! Did that mean he was going to trumpet the details of their private life through the streets?

"…..and, with it, an offer of marriage." There, thought Thorin with relief, it was out. And he knelt before the elven king and produced the silver box, opening it with a flourish. "I lay before you the wealth of Erebor," he said. "Though you have little, I would give you much. Here is a token of my love which I would set upon your finger."

An icy silence descended. And Thorin, who had been gazing humbly at the floor, waiting to be clasped joyfully in Thranduil's arms, finally looked up and saw the grim set of his lover's features. What had he said?

"So," said Thranduil softly, "you expect me to be flattered that you have loved me all this time against your will; that you wish to marry me despite the damage to your dwarven pride and the inferiority of my race. And," he said his voice rising, "to cast the final aspersion, not only do you emphasise the poverty of my kingdom and the wealth of your own – as if you can buy me – but you lay before me a ring that is part of the great treasure of white stones stolen from me and my people centuries ago! What insult is this?" he cried and he rose from his chair in a fury.

Thorin was stunned and the words refused to come. "I love you and I have come here with an offer of marriage," was all he could stutter out.

"I want you to leave my kingdom forthwith," snarled Thranduil. "And when I return to my chambers, I expect you to be gone." Then he gathered his robes about him and swept out of the room.

.o00o.

Thorin got back to Erebor late that evening to find Brangwyn waiting for him. He stumbled to a chair and said in a cracked whisper, "I said it all wrong and he has rejected me. He never wants to see me again."

Then Brangwyn told him about the two proposals that she herself had received. "And the one I want doesn't love me," she wailed, "whilst the other will take huge offence if I turn him down."

And then they wept on each other's shoulders at the thought of losing the one whom they held most dear. Finally, Brangwyn blew her nose and sniffed: "Come on, Thorin. Let's get some sleep. Tomorrow morning, we must formulate a plan before Dain and your heir come knocking at my door and before Thranduil goes looking for comfort in the arms of another."

But sleep refused to come and they tossed and turned all night wondering what they would do once the new day dawned.

.o00o.

Next and Final Chapter: Happily Ever After? Three proposals, all absolutely dreadful! And Thorin's especially has been the worst one since Mr Darcy's in Pride and Prejudice. Is there anything that can be done to rectify the situation? I hope you will join me next week when I reach the end of this particular story.

This is story number 9 out of 12. If you haven't done so already, I hope you try the rest, beginning with King of the Antlered Throne.