A/N - Okay you guys, I had to split this chapter into two parts to make it flow properly. Fair warning, the next chapter is going to get pretty steamy. I will update the tags appropriately and will update the second half on friday (4/25) so people don't get too confused about where they are in the story.
I know I have been really terrible with this story. I don't really have any reason for it and I'm sorry for that, I know that it can get really frustrating waiting on an Author that you just don;t even know if they are still writing or if they died out in the real world. Just know that my Husband has my passwords and if something ever happened to me in a permanent way, you would all get updated about it.
Chapter Four
Dwalin stepped through Thorin's guard force as Billa and Ori ran off to the dining hall together. "You're staring Thorin." Dwalin chimed in when the King's smile went from indulgent to sappy.
"As if others aren't." he growled back to his old friend, sending a glower to the other guards that had escorted them from their rooms; many who had been giving Billa more attention than their surroundings. Dwalin gave a hearty laugh as many of the guards shifted uncomfortably at having been caught.
"You can hardly expect them to keep their eyes to themselves when you flaunt her about as you do; ordering her new clothes and coats, don't think we haven't noticed that they aren't only dwarven in design." He made a crude gesture of bosoms spilling over his shirt collar.
"If my wife wants to wear shire dresses, who am I to stop her?" the king replied haughtily, though his red ears gave away his true intentions.
The two friends continued down through the hallways passing palace staff and workers greeting each with head nods as everyone made their way towards the dining hall.
"Have you heard anything from Nori lately?" The King had meeting with his spymaster, though they were never regular or even in regular places.
"He hasn't surfaced on my radar for a couple weeks now; last I heard he was tailing some leads in the mines. I could ask Bofur to scent him out if you have need."
"It's nothing worth pulling him for right now but I will need his expertise sooner than I thought. We will be having a delegation from the Grey Mountains this spring."
Dwalin's face went blank as he turned to his friend, "Kohim?" he asked.
"Kohim." Thorin nodded in return.
"Does Billa know?"
"I don't want to worry her yet. She has enough on her plate as it is." Thorin admitted softly.
Dwalin grunted in agreement as the two finally reached the dining hall. Thorin was right to be concerned; Kohim had been vehement in refusing assistance to any of Erebor's fleeing dwarves and had been even worse when Thorin announced his attention to retake the mountain. Nori needed to be informed as soon as possible, if he didn't know about it already that is.
"I already know." Nori materialized into Thorin's office from one of the darker corners. The first time Nori had done this Thorin jump so hard he knocked ink across all the paperwork on his desk. Now he calmly re sheathed the dagger strapped under his desk drawer.
"What do you think about it then?" he turned from his work, gesturing Nori to a side table with a decanter of liquor and several glasses. Nori smirked when he saw two glasses already filled and waiting. Thorin was getting better at anticipating him, a helpful skill when much of their communication was veiled or silent.
"I think that Kohim is dangerous, he always has been." The spy swirled the amber liquid in his glass, Thorin nodded his agreement.
"The big difference that now he isn't half a world away, he is in our back yard. He doesn't have enough power or resources us to challenge you directly, that would have been Dain's ploy, so anything that he does, any move made or word spoken will be cloaked in the shadows." Nori had spent months creating the dossiers on the other nobles and powerful families that Thorin would have to deal with after he captured the mountain and while it was true that many of them held more favorable information than he expected none of them were completely clean. There was no such thing as a true ally in the game of international politics and while their relations with surrounding kingdoms were growing stronger, it was still fragile. The men and elves would care little who ruled in Erebor as long as trade continued, which it would have to no matter the King and the only thing that stayed Dain's hand in the scramble for power and glory was a secure kingdom of his own and Thorin's generous coffers, and perhaps some misguided notion of Durin pride tosh though it was.
"I'd suggest getting an agent into his camp if they weren't so small already. Anyone who hasn't lived and served is sure to be obvious to everyone and I haven't had a contact on the correct side of their guard force in years." Nori surmised their options grimly, "We have little to do but wait until they arrive, once they are here we will be able to reevaluate and plan our next move based on the weakness of his party, but until then" he shrugged "that's all we can do except wait for the spring thaw."
Thorin threw his head back and swallowed the last mouthful in his glass, "If that's what you advise then that is what we shall do, but the moment they get within sight of this mountain I want them watched, carefully, discreetly but they must never be left alone."
Nori stood from the small table and clasped Thorin's shoulder as he strode toward the door into the hall.
"What you're not going to disappear in the shadows or a cloud of smoke?" Thorin joked to the ginger dwarf.
The ginger thief sighed dramatically, turning large doe eyes back towards the table, "Why use parlor tricks when you're not even impressed by them anymore? My skills are wasted on you."
Thorin winked and tipped his empty glass in a silent salute as Nori walked out of the room without alerting the guardsmen that he was leaving without having actually entered.
The storeroom was located just inside the gates of the Mountain; it had shelves up to the ceiling and barrels sat upon the floor in neat rows. In one of these rows was a Hobbit, a clipboard slung around her waist as she balanced her weight on a barrel, desperately searching for the label on the one behind it.
She had designed the system herself. Each crate, sack and barrel had been given a wax label that corresponded to its proper planting spot come spring. The most recent shipment that had entered the mountain came from the Shire and had yet to be sorted. She wiggled further onto the barrel to lie on her stomach and drape herself over the next to see behind it. Ignorant of the looks she was receiving from the dwarves assisting her, she twisted and turned and finally found it.
"Seamus!" she yelled, dismounting from her awkward position "These four rows all need to go with the other greens."
Her call brought a large dwarf with a fiery orange Mohawk, his beard sporting several symmetrical braids down his jawline, each capped with a steel bead. He did not have the tattoos of a seasoned warrior but he had quickly risen though Dwalin's training ranks. Seamus was a new favorite of Billa's, his temper matched his hair, and he wasn't afraid to go toe to toe with Dwalin and Thorin in regard to her protection needs. He was happy to tell the King when he was closing in on ridiculousness in his demands.
"She dunnae need a full contingent just to take a bleeding walk, Sire!"
So he was currently coopted into Billa's retinue and he wouldn't be leaving any time soon.
Seamus came over with three other dwarfs and they grabbed the barrels and began to cart them into their proper section.
She had one week to finish the sorting of this shipment and finalize the plans for the first planting before turning over the project to someone else. Gods how she hated that, putting in months of work only to give it to someone else; she wasn't being greedy but she wanted to be the one to sow these first seeds, to lovingly plant more trees in the fledgling orchard but instead she was expected to stay inside the mountain and "recuperate" from the festival. Apparently it would be unseemly if the Queen was able to assist in the planting, let alone walk, after being so wholly ravished. Which was utter tosh of course; Thorin wasn't the only one with a limp after their honeymoon.
So she sorted and annotated and silently stewed.
"That's all for today Seamus!" her shout rang to the furthest corners of the room, allowing the mohawked dwarf to come running back to her side.
"Are we due elsewhere Majesty?" He politely questioned the abrupt change in schedule.
"I feel the need to visit the training grounds. There is usually an arena or two free, this late at night." She eyed Seamus well-muscled torso with glittering eyes. "I'm certain I haven't gotten a chance to grapple with you yet. Allow me to run you through your paces."
"She's mad at you." Ori blurted across the desk to Thorin, Balin's head shot up where as Thorin calmly met Ori's flushed face.
"I know." He sighed and kneaded the muscles of his neck, sore from last night which he, again, spent on the settee by the fire instead of in his bed with his wife.
"What are you going to do about it?" Ori questioned. "Because you should really, really do something." The scribe pleaded.
Balin heaved an aggrieved sigh, "Clearly we won't be working on these anymore." and began packing away the scrolls scattered across the shared expanse of table.
"I know that Ori, but this is one of those things that cannot be helped, no matter how uncomfortable our living room furniture is."
Ori sighed at his Kings' idiocy, "I'm not saying that making Billa happy will mean going against centuries of tradition, but perhaps it may mean tweaking it just a tippy, tappy bit." He grinned, in a manner eerily reminiscent of his older brother, towards the King. "You know how Billa likes things to be fair, and maybe the King isn't the only one who can leave their spouse weak kneed and wearied."
Thorin picked his head up from the desk and allowed a smile to stretch beneath his beard. "Oh, that I know is the truth." Ori squeaked at the lascivious grin that broke through Thorin's beard.
