Chapter Two
The trek from the Grey Mountains to Erebor passed uneventfully. At least, no orcs or goblins attached the caravan carrying Lady Eda and her three eldest to the Lonely Mountain. Though unaccustomed to sleeping on the ground with a canvas tent as the only shelter available, Elin quickly adjusted as best she could to the less than hospitable conditions. Olin, who had been on many hunting trips with his father, was quite used to sleeping under the stars and cooking over an open fire. However, Lady Eda was another story entirely.
Lady Eda never missed an opportunity to bemoan her wilderness circumstances. Every night, her two personal maids had to massage her weary, aching muscles from riding in a cushioned wagon all day. She wanted to bathe every night and every morning, but her sensible maids squashed that idea quickly, though it only gave their lady something else to complain about.
"Oh, how I ache!" she cried one night as they neared their destination. "I hope you children understand what a sacrifice it is for me to take you to Erebor and what a generous mother I am for allowing you to make this journey."
Jora's eyebrows shot up. It was her impression that they had basically been ordered by their parents to make the trek half-way across Middle Earth to Erebor. She shared a look with Elin and Olin, who seemed to be thinking the same thing. Elin shrugged and dutifully gave her mother the answer she wanted to hear, Jora and Olin nodding in agreement.
A week later, they were within sight of the Lonely Mountain. It's craggy, grey peak proudly standing out against the blue sky took Jora's breath away with its rugged, ancient beauty. They camped near the outskirts of Dale so they could reach the mountain by mid-morning the next day. Lady Eda spent an hour that evening planning what she, Elin, and Olin would wear in the morning for their entrance into Erebor, then another hour and a half choosing what they would wear for their first audience with King Thorin, which would be later in the afternoon.
"Mother, can't this wait till tomorrow?" Elin yawned. "We will have plenty of time to coordinate outfits before we pay our respect to King Thorin. We're all exhausted, and I'm sure the maids don't want to unpack all the trunks tonight."
"Elin!" her mother cried. "You of all people should be most concerned with this! Your first impression on Their Majesties will mean everything! If you don't catch one of the princes' eye right away, you might never get the chance to truly vie for their attention!"
"Mother! First impressions can be very misleading," Elin countered. "Remember Siri, Lord Evik's daughter? I absolutely hated her at first because I thought she was snobbish. I thought she would hardly talk to me because she thought highly of herself, but it turned out she was just really shy! Now, we're great friends, and I hope to see her here."
"Don't say things like that, Elin! The fewer rivals you have the better, and she has always been counted as quite the beauty with her green eyes," Lady Eda replied. "Personally, I never saw much beauty in her; she has common brown hair and a rather unremarkable figure."
"But she is one of the sweetest little gems you'll ever meet, Mother!" Elin said. "She'd give you her favorite gown sash or the last of her favorite treat, if she thought you wanted it, and never bat an eye or show any regret over it. She always knows how cheer you up; always knows the perfect thing to say. The only person more sweet and thoughtful in the world is our own Jora."
"Now, see here!" Lady Eda replied. "We don't need you going around singing your rivals' praises! They are your rivals, right now, Elin. Not your friends."
"But Mother! I'm certainly not going to ignore my friends simply because we have a common goal! Besides, most of my friends are from the Grey Mountains. It doesn't matter which one of us gets a prince, the Grey Mountains will still get the trade agreement."
"How could you say it does not matter?" Lady Eda gasped, clutching her chest in astonishment. Olin shook his head, and Jora rolled her eyes at her mother's theatrics. "Of course it matters!" their mother continued. "The prestige of a personal connection with the line of Durin for our family is of great importance, Elin! Not to mention the wealth it will bring, for even princes like Fili and Kili are not exempt from paying a bride price."
Elin glanced at Jora, then cocked her head, eying her mother suspiciously. "I thought this was about a good trade agreement with Erebor, since clearly you do not intend to let me wed for love. I still wish to find my One."
"When will you put such nonsense out of your head, lass?" her mother sighed. "We are of high noble birth; you do what is good for your family and your people. Not what suits you."
Jora's eyes widened. It was nigh on blasphemy to deny the One Mahal had created especially for each dwarrow! Marrying someone else was like telling the Great Maker that his plan for you was wrong. Mahal's will was never wrong; when he created each dwarrow's other half, it was always perfect! How could it be anything else?
Elin was clearly as surprised and taken back as Jora was. "But Mother!" she sputtered, but her mother cut her protest off.
"Elin, it's late; I will not discuss this any further tonight." Elin could tell when a subject was closed, so she quietly rose and disappeared into the tent. Jora quickly followed her, finding her curled up on her bedroll, quietly crying. Jora sat near her and gently pulled her head into her lap. She began combing her fingers through her sister's golden tresses until Elin fell asleep.
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Fili and Kili wearily tumbled into bed that night. Besides their normal duties, they had been dealing the increasing hoard of young dwarrowdams (and a few not so young) trailing after them all over the mountain for the last month. They could only get away from them if they were council meetings, helping to clear out the old mine shafts, or out hunting.
"If I have be polite to one more fawning, scheming dam, I think I'm going to lose it," Kili huffed dramatically from his bed.
"Lose what, Brother?" Fili asked, looking over at Kili.
"My sanity!" the younger dwarrow cried.
"Kee, I'm pretty sure you lost that years ago," Fili teased. He was rewarded with a pillow thrown across the room and into his face. "You know what, I take that back."
"Good."
"Were you ever sane?"
"Hey!" Kili shot up and threw another pillow at Fili, beginning a short-lived pillow fight that ended when Fili trapped Kili in a strangle hold. "Seriously, Fee?"
"Seriously," he answered. "Truce?"
"Truce," Kili nodded and Fili released him. "We Durins have to have to stick together against the common enemy."
Thoughts?
Aranel Mereneth: Thank you so much for your review! I hope you continue to enjoy my story.
In your service, Ezzie
