Gosh, this chapter took a lot of work, for some reason! xD

This story has already reached over 1,000 views! Thanks to everyone who's been reading and reviewing, you all are wonderful and I appreciate your support! :)

Enjoy! :)

.

Thorin had an idea of what to show Lancaeriel next on their tour, and luckily it wasn't too far from the library. He led her once again through a series of corridors and up a couple flights of stairs until they came a smaller, empty hallway that was lit by a few torches along the walls. What could be seen on the walls were the square-shaped outlines of portraits.

"Here is something I thought you'd like to see."

He pulled her down the hall a little ways and then stopped her to face a large painting on the wall. It was of a great Dwarf, regal and incredible in appearance, who stood proud with a large, fierce battle axe resting on his shoulder. He was garbed in gold armor from head to toe with a great helmet upon his head and above it were seven stars. He stood upon a hill, looking bold and heroic.

"Amazing!" Lancaeriel quietly exclaimed as she looked up at the painting. The inscription at the bottom was, naturally, in runes and she still couldn't quite read it. She looked over to Thorin timidly, the look on her face telling him that she didn't know who it was.

"This is Durin the Deathless," Thorin told her. "Our forefather; a great ancestor to all of Dwarf-kind."

"Ah, I see," Lancaeriel replied as she glanced back at the portrait. "I have heard of him."

"What do you know about him?"

Lancaeriel thought about it for a moment and answered, "Not very much…only that he is revered by all Dwarves, he is the founder of Durin's Folk and that there is a day called Durin's Day in his honor."

Thorin gave a comprehensive nod. "Well, then, would you like for me to give you a little historical lesson about him?"

"By all means," said Lancaeriel welcomingly.

He stole a quick glance at the portrait and began, "Durin the Deathless was the eldest of the Seven Fathers who were created by Mahal in the beginning of time and put under a deep slumber until the arising of the Elves took place. Each of them were the founders of the great houses or clans of the Dwarves: the Longbeards, which Durin was the founder of, the Broadbeams, Firebeards, Ironfists, Stiffbeards, Blacklocks and Stonefoots.

"Durin, when he awoke from his slumber, travelled the world until he came upon Mirromere, or 'Kheled-zâram', as it is known by amongst our race, which is a lake that lies in a vale just east of Moria. It is said that when Durin looked at his reflection in the water, he saw seven stars shining above his head forming a crown. He reached into the water and pulled them out and they formed a great helmet; the one he is wearing in this painting. Thus, those stars that are hovering above his head became part of his sigil.

"This pleased him and he decided he wanted to establish his kingdom in the land nearest the lake in the Misty Mountains. He built his kingdom and named it Khazad-dûm, which would become known as Moria later on in time. It became one of the greatest Dwarf kingdoms in all the history of Middle-Earth."

Lancaeriel was completely enthralled by Thorin's story. She could feel her natural thirst for knowledge growing and rising inside her as she listened to him. She loved to learn; she loved to learn about the different cultures in the world and of the history of Middle-Earth. Hearing the story of Durin was exciting for her and she enjoyed listening to it.

"That is fascinating!" she cried out, grinning widely. Then her expression changed to a little more serious. "But I do have a couple questions: why is he called Durin the Deathless and what exactly is Durin's Day?"

"Excellent questions," said Thorin. "He was called 'Deathless' because it was believed that Durin could not die, but simply fall asleep and reincarnate his own line. He did live longer than any Dwarf, but eventually he actually did die. The day he passed from this world is Durin's Day, which is the start of our new year; when the last moon of autumn and the first sun of winter appear in the sky together. The reason that is, is because he died at the beginning of winter and his death was witnessed by both the sun and the moon."

Not only was the Princess still fascinated by the history that the Prince was telling her, but she was also very impressed with his undeniable understanding and knowledge of it. He relayed the story flawlessly, as if he'd memorized every piece of information. Clearly, he was quite intelligent, had been well-educated and cared much for the history of his people. That was evident from the conviction she could hear in his deep voice as he spoke of his ancestor. She wanted to hear him continue speaking like that.

Her gaze drifted to the other paintings that were next to the one of Durin and she observed that there were three of them. They were all dressed in royal robes and furs and their heads were adorned with crowns.

Seeing her looking at the other portraits, Thorin told her, "These are all the Kings Under the Mountain up until the present day. There were only two Kings before my grandfather."

Lancaeriel looked back to him. "What can you tell me about them?" she inquired.

He raised his eyebrows and smirked. "You just want me to keep talking, don't you?" he asked, snickering at her.

She laughed. "Yes!" she exclaimed. "I am quite enthralled by this lesson you seem to be giving. I simply wish for you to continue teaching me."

"As you wish," he said in reply, glancing up at the first painting, ready to tell her about the former Kings.

"The very first King of Erebor was Thrain I. His father, Nain I, had been the last ruler of Khazad-dûm and was killed by the Balrog that slumbered deep in the darkness there. After his death, Thrain and the remainder of Durin's Folk fled the Misty Mountains and made their way across the land until they found the Lonely Mountain and the kingdom was established under his rule. Thrain was King for one-hundred and ninety-one years."

"It sounds like he was a good King for leading his people all that way."

"Indeed." Thorin then gestured to the second portrait. "After his reign was over, his son, Thorin I; my namesake, succeeded him. He only ruled the mountain for twenty years."

"Why did he have such a short reign?"

"He decided to abandon Erebor in search of greater riches in the Grey Mountains. He remained King of Durin's Folk, but this kingdom was left empty and kingless for three-hundred and eighty years. In that span of time, four generations of Durin's line passed, leading as Kings of Durin's Folk in the Grey Mountains until the death of Dain I, my great-grandfather."

He moved down to the last portrait and a he glanced at it with admiration. "Then, following my great-grandfather's death, Thror, my grandfather, became King. He returned here and refounded Erebor. He has ruled for nearly two-hundred years and the kingdom has been prosperous ever since."

"How incredible!" Lancaeriel gasped in awe.

"And someday there will be a portrait of my father placed up here when he is King."

"Then, one day, there shall be one of you that will follow next to his."

"Yes, but I still have many years until that happens." Thorin sighed proudly. "I only hope that someday I can be as great a King as my grandfather."

She laid a hand on his shoulder lightly. When he turned to look at her, he met her soft, pleasant gaze. "You will be," she said to him confidently.

"How can you be so sure?" he asked.

She simply smiled. "I just have a good, strong feeling that you will be a great King when the time comes."

Then she let her hand gently slide down his arm until she reached his hand and she gave it a quick, friendly squeeze and then let go.

"Thank you, Thorin," she said graciously, "for that history lesson of your lineage. I enjoyed it immensely."

"It was my pleasure," he replied, bowing his head. "I am glad you enjoyed it."

Lancaeriel stole one more look at the painting of Durin and said, "I believe Durin would be very proud to see how far his line has come…and how far it will go in the future."

She smiled kindly at him and he did the same to her.

Thorin noticed that, in the light of the torches, the streaks of gold in Lancaeriel's hair glimmered brightly, standing out amongst the red. To him, it was a pretty sight that only added to her overall radiance.

Lancaeriel thought that his deep, sapphire blue eyes gleamed even more in the firelight. While the color in his eyes was already bright, they shone even more now than ever.

The two young people just stood there and stared at each other, neither of them saying a word. They couldn't figure out what was happening…only that they were just lost in each other's gaze for a moment.

It was brief, however, until Lancaeriel lowered her gaze timidly and broke their silence by asking, "So, what are you going to show me next?"

Thorin's senses returned and he thought about it for a moment and answered, "There's someone else I'd like you to meet and I believe he should be in the sparring room right now. Shall we go there?"

"Yes, let's," she answered.

The sparring room was a simple one: there was a large, square-shaped dueling ring on an elevated platform that took up most of the space and then stone benches on three sides of the ring. On the fourth side was a small throne for the days when the King wanted to present for a duel or a challenge. Straight across from the main entrance on the opposite wall was an open doorway that led into the room next door which was the armory.

When Thorin and Lancaeriel arrived, they found a few pairs of younger-looking Dwarves in the ring practicing their combat skills with each other. Some were using battle axes, some wielded swords and the rest were using large hammers. Their battle cries and grunts as they charged at their partners or sidestepped an attack were loud and the sound of clashing metal bounced off the walls around them.

On the outside of the ring was a larger Dwarf leaning on a large battle axe that came up to his chest standing upright. He was tall, brawny and muscular, had a large, full black beard and his hair was different than most: his head was shaved except for one single section of black hair down the middle that stood long and tall on his head.

He stood there bellowing out orders and comments to some of the fighters, "Dogan, widen your stance, you'll have better balance when you swing! Quicker, Remlak, on parrying Gilnir's advances! You make a move like that in battle, Andref, and you'll find your head on a pike!"

A few minutes later, his head turned and he noticed the Dwarf Prince had entered the room and was waiting patiently. He turned back towards the ring. "All right, lads, I think we've done enough training for today. Return your weapons to the armory and then you are dismissed."

The younger Dwarves all obeyed their teacher: they walked out the ring, returned their weapons to the armory and then filed out of the room, bowing their heads respectively to Thorin and Lancaeriel as they went.

"There was no need to conclude your session on our account," said Thorin once they were all out of the room.

"Ah, no worries, we were just about finished anyway," his friend said after closing the doors. Then he let out a hearty laugh as he and the Prince gladly embraced each other.

"There's someone here I'd like you to meet, my friend," said Thorin, gesturing to the now smiling Princess.

"By my beard…!" The larger Dwarf's eyes were growing wider with awe at the sight of her. Then he bowed low respectively and introduced himself, "Dwalin, son of Fundin, at your service, my lady."

"Princess Lancaeriel of Mirkwood, at yours, my good sir," the Princess replied, curtsying to him.

"Dwalin is my best friend and closest companion. He is also Balin's younger brother," said Thorin.

Dwalin rolled his eyes. "How many times do I have to tell you, Thorin, to stop telling others that I'm related to that old sod?" he cried out sarcastically, giving Thorin a light and playful punch in the shoulder.

Rubbing his arm, Thorin chuckled and replied, "I simply ignore that request, Dwalin, because I know you love your brother and would have no idea where you'd be without him."

"Well, I suppose that's true!" said Dwalin before chuckling himself. Then he looked down at Lancaeriel and gave her a bright, cheery smile that amazingly could be seen underneath his fluffy beard.

"Now what is a lovely lass like you doing with a sorry lad like him?" he asked her, pointing to Thorin next to him with his thumb.

She couldn't help but giggle as Thorin took his chance to punch Dwalin in the arm and cried, "Who are you calling a 'sorry lad'?"

After ceasing her laughing, Lancaeriel answered, "Thorin found me wandering about outside of the mountain and he has been kind enough to show me around and introduce me to some people. I met your brother not too long ago."

"I'm sure Balin really liked you."

"It seemed like it. He was very kind."

"Are you enjoying your tour?"

"I am; very much, indeed! Just out of curiosity, what were you doing with those younger Dwarves when we arrived?"

"Combat training. The lads were just sparring and practicing what I've taught them when you two showed up."

"Do you mind if I try my hand at it with you, Master Dwarf?"

Both Dwalin and Thorin looked at her quizzically, taken aback at her request.

"You want to spar with Dwalin?" Thorin asked, making sure he heard her right.

Lancaeriel nodded innocently. "I assure you, I know how to fight in combat. There's nothing to be worried about," she said to calm the two concerned-looking Dwarves that were staring at her. "Just one short sparring session, that's all I ask."

"Well…I suppose," Dwalin answered nervously. "Let's get in the ring, then. Thorin, could you fetch the lady a weapon?"

He nodded and then asked the Princess, "Axe or sword? What's your weapon of choice?"

"I would prefer a sword, if you don't mind."

Thorin went into the armory and came out about a minute later with a dark, lightweight Dwarven sword that he thought would suit her.

After he handed it to her, Lancaeriel fumbled around with it a little to get a feel for it. "It's different than what I am used to, but it will suffice," she stated with a smile.

"Good," said Dwalin. "And don't you worry, I'll go easy on you."

"No!" the Princess cried out abruptly, her face turning serious. Both Dwalin and Thorin's heads jerked back, startled. She continued in a stern voice, with even a small hint of sass, "There shall be none of that, Master Dwalin. I may be a lady, but in combat, I am your equal, even in training, and I insist to be treated as such." Then she smirked deviously at the larger Dwarf, feeling rather witty.

Bemused, Dwalin lifted his hands into the air and said in reply, "Very well, if you insist, Princess."

"You may dispense with the pleasantries, my good Dwarf," Lancaeriel said politely. "Thorin and Balin have done so, so you can, as well." With that being said, she gave a light flip of her hair with her head as she turned around and walked up towards the ring.

Dwalin glanced back at Thorin, who just shrugged his shoulders, both of them a bit perplexed at her clever behavior. Then he picked up his battle axe, along with an identical one that was set against the wall, and followed after her into the ring while the Prince sat on one of the benches on the side.

Thorin, honestly, was a little nervous as he sat down. While he didn't know of Lancaeriel's combat skills, he knew about Dwalin's; he was an intimidating, rough and tough fighter and, now that his friend wasn't going to go easy on her, the Prince was worried about what would happen if Dwalin showed no restraint against her.

"Ladies first," said Dwalin as they took their stances and readied their weapons.

Without hesitating, Lancaeriel lunged forward and thrust her sword towards Dwalin's abdomen. Just as quickly, Dwalin swerved his axe in front of him and parried her move. His arm followed over his head after his block and took a swing down at her and she swung downward, diverting the path of his weapon. But he was quick and raised both axes for a strike. When he thrust his axes down, she jumped backwards and did a backhand spring away from him, landing perfectly on her feet with her sword still in hand.

With a growl, Dwalin swung both of his axes across his chest towards her head, but Lancaeriel swiftly ducked down as they whooshed over her. She took that chance to diagonally swing her weapon upwards at him, but he was quick to sidestep away and shuffle around her. She spun around to face him so he wouldn't get any surprise attacks on her. When he took yet another swing at her, she jumped up into the air and did a flawless front flip, soaring straight over his head and landing behind him.

"You're good, lass," Dwalin pointed out, getting slightly short of breath.

"As are you," Lancaeriel replied, twirling her sword.

Then, in one fluid motion, she leapt up into the air again, spinning her entire body around speedily, and raised her weapon above her head as she descended down to strike a fatal blow.

But he was ready for her attack and raised his battle axes over his head in an "X" shape, parrying her blow and catching her blade in between the heads. With a mighty shove, he thrust his axes out and pushed her away. As she stumbled back, he got a little carried away and took the opportunity, while her front was exposed and defenseless, to butt her hard in the stomach with the head of his axe.

The breath was knocked right out of her as the head made contact with her abdomen and she dropped her sword, cried out in pain and doubled over, clutching her stomach. Then she fell to the floor, groaning and gasping for air.

"Lancaeriel!" Thorin cried out worriedly as he got up from the bench and rushed to the edge of the ring as he saw her double over to the ground. He knew this would happen: Dwalin would get too caught up in the fight and would hurt Lancaeriel in some way. He hoped she hadn't been seriously injured.

Dwalin realized immediately what he had done as the Elf Princess collapsed and instantly regretted it. He dropped his axes and knelt by her side.

"Lancaeriel, are you all right?" he asked, his voice full of concern.

Just then, all of a sudden, Lancaeriel quickly rolled away from him and grasped her sword off of the ground and jumped back up to her feet. Clearly, she wasn't seriously hurt, if she was even hurt at all. Then, before Dwalin could react, she landed a rough kick into his shoulder, knocked him flat on his back and made him groan loudly. She walked over, moved his axes away with her foot and then pointed the tip of her sword at his neck, a mischievous and triumphant smirk etched across her face as he gaped up at her with wide, stunned eyes.

Thorin, off to the side, was looking at her the same way. He had never seen such fluid, graceful style, not to mention the quick movement from the ground to her sword and back up in just a matter of seconds. He was beyond astonished.

"Not as helpless as I appear to be, am I?" she asked Dwalin cunningly.

"Indeed…although I never thought you were," he replied, still surprised and trying to catch his breath.

She chuckled.

"When you said you wanted a short sparring session, you weren't joking!" he added, a grin slowly inching across his face as he started to laugh himself.

"Do you yield, Master Dwalin?" she asked with pride.

He gave an exaggerated nod. "Yes, I yield to you, Princ—" The tip of her sword lifted and lightly tapped his chin. "Lancaeriel," he quickly corrected.

Once Lancaeriel moved her sword away, Thorin jumped up onto the platform and helped Dwalin back up to his feet.

"Well, this is a historic moment!" Thorin exclaimed. "For the first time in possibly your entire life, someone has bested you in combat, Dwalin."

"And a worthy opponent, at that," Dwalin added, reaching out to Lancaeriel to shake her hand.

Courteously, she took his hand and shook it. "You were not too bad yourself," she said, grinning.

He placed a large hand on her shoulder and said, "Well, Lancaeriel, thank you for the sparring. It was quite invigorating. I am afraid that I have some other business to attend to elsewhere now, but it was a pleasure to meet you!"

"The pleasure was all mine!"

Dwalin turned to Thorin and pointed a finger at him. "And you, my friend," he stated, "better take good care of the lass while you're spending time with her. I don't want to hear anything about her feeling unhappy here because of something you did."

Thorin chuckled. "Not to worry, my friend. I intend to make sure her stay here is enjoyable." He turned and smiled kindly at Lancaeriel and she blushed.

"No need to worry at all…!" Dwalin thought, grinning inwardly. "You two have a good time and I will see you both at the banquet tonight!" he called to them as he took his axes and made his way to the door, giving them a wave before walking out.

Lancaeriel turned to face Thorin, beaming. "You have wonderful friends, Thorin," she told him. "Balin and Dwalin both seem like good, respectable Dwarves. You should be honored to have them as your companions."

"I am; I am very honored. Balin is a wise councilor who gives me advice when I do or do not need it for my royal duties and Dwalin has practically become my protector; my right-hand man. I do not think I will ever find two greater friends whom I can trust wholeheartedly with my life."

"It sounds like they do most of your work for you."

Thorin looked taken aback. "I beg your pardon?"

Lancaeriel shrugged her shoulders. "Well, Balin helps with your royal duties, which means you surely cannot handle them yourself. As for Dwalin, he is your protector, which surely must mean you cannot defend yourself!" Then she smirked slyly at him.

The Dwarf Prince's mouth dropped open and he stared at her, dumbfounded. Not only was he surprised at her comment, but he couldn't help but think, "Where is this good-humored wit coming from? Not too long ago, she was behaving shy around me!" While this still amazed him, he found her teasing—which, to him, seemed more like flirting—rather amusing.

He decided he would play along. He put a hand over his heart and gave an overdramatic gasp. "Ah, curses, you have seen through my ruse!" he cried out. "I am not the noble Prince I appear to be…I am a sham!"

"Now, the truth is revealed! I shall expose your deception to the kingdom!" With a devious cackle, she flipped around and began to run to the other side of the ring.

"Oh, no, you will not!"

Thorin rushed right after her, both of them laughing playfully. Lancaeriel, instead of jumping off the platform, jumped off to the side when Thorin tried to grab her. However, he was swift and caught her around the waist before she could get away.

"Thorin! Put me down!" Lancaeriel shouted in surprise as his arms tightened around her and he lifted her off her feet.

Then, just to tease her even more, he started spinning her in circles, laughing at her shouts as she twisted around and tried to free herself from his grasp. Though, as he began to speed up, his foot got caught on the hem of his fur jacket, tripping him, and he and the Princess went tumbling down to the ground.

He landed flat on his back and she landed right on top of him, her hands on his chest to brace her fall so as to not hurt him. The two of them started laughing so hard to the point where neither of them could breathe. While they were regaining their breath, they both just stared at each other, grinning widely.

Thorin couldn't deny that he didn't mind Lancaeriel's weight on top of him, even though he knew he shouldn't think such things. Even though he had discovered it when he picked her up, he realized just how light she was. Her hands were placed right on his chest and her touch was sending waves of warmth through his entire body. The way that she was gazing down at him with her bright hazel eyes made him feel like she was looking straight into his soul.

Then they realized the position they were in and they both snickered and blushed, feeling a tad bit embarrassed. However, despite how awkward the situation was, neither seemed to want to move away first.

"Well…aren't we in quite the predicament?" Lancaeriel stated.

Thorin chuckled, making his chest rumble beneath Lancaeriel's fingertips. "What is going on with you?" he asked curiously. "You were acting shy not even an hour ago and now you've suddenly become a playful tease!"

She smirked. "I am a mystery…!" she answered in a mischievous whisper, running her hands along his chest up to his shoulders and she felt him quiver a little at that.

"A mystery, indeed!" Thorin thought to himself.

Lancaeriel added, "Besides, Dwalin, to me, seemed like the kind of person who could handle that kind of teasing…and I thought that about you, too."

He raised his eyebrows at her. "Was that just simple teasing or was it…something different?"

Her weight pressed down on him as she leaned closer to him, their faces just inches away. He could feel her breath hit his lips and neck and it was sending shivers down his spine.

She said to him softly, "That is for me to know…and for you to figure out." Then she surprised him yet again by tapping him on the nose before rolling off of him and helping him back up.

"Now…," she said once they both were back on their feet, "I believe we have a story to read together!"

Thorin dusted himself off, regained his thoughts, and then replied, "Indeed, we do…and I know a good place we can go for some privacy."

After retrieving the library book, Thorin took Lancaeriel up to one of the higher levels of Erebor; up to a balcony that overlooked the city of Dale below as well as the entire valley. A few feet away from the balcony was a chaise crafted from gold with soft black cushions and a few jewels inlaid in the backrest.

Once they both were seated, the two of them agreed that, when reading The Tale of Beren and Lúthien, they would each read a page of the story and would alternate each time.

They had been reading for a little while when it came back to Lancaeriel. She read out loud:

"…it is told in the Lay of Leithian that Beren came stumbling into Doriath grey and bowed as with many years of woe, so great had been the torment of the road. But wandering in the summer in the woods of Neldoreth he came upon Lúthien, daughter of Thingol and Melian, at a time of evening under moonrise, as she danced upon the unfading grass in the glades Esgalduin."

She smiled at Thorin as she handed him the book for his turn. Then he read:

"Then all memory of his pain departed from him, and he fell into an enchantment; for Lúthien was the most beautiful of all the Children of Ilúvatar…."

He then started to read the depiction of Lúthien's beauty and, as he did so, he couldn't help but think of Lancaeriel. He replaced some of the descriptive words used in the story and replaced them in the back of his mind to fit the description of the Princess, such as "grey eyes" with "hazel eyes" and "dark hair" with "red and gold hair". Everything else, he thought, worked perfectly to describe her.

He continued, "…As the light upon the leaves of trees, as the voice of clear waters, as the stars above the mists of the world, such was her glory and her loveliness; and in her face was a shining light.

"There came a time near dawn on the eve of spring, and Luthien danced upon a green hill; and suddenly she began to sing. Keen, heart-piercing was her song as the song of the lark that rises from the gates of night and pours its voice among the dying stars, seeing the sun behind the walls of the world…."

Thorin stopped reading and was silent for a moment, remembering when earlier that day he had heard Lancaeriel singing and the feelings he had felt in hearing her. He was unable to find the right words to describe her lovely voice, but the passage he had just read, he realized, was perfect; it was exactly how he would've described what he heard. "Heart-piercing" was the more excellent choice of words, in his opinion, because that was precisely what her song and voice had done to him: pierced his heart.

"Thorin, are you all right?"

Her voice broke his daydreaming and he realized he had been so deep in thought. "Yes, yes, I'm all right," he quickly responded. "I was just thinking."

"What were you thinking about?"

Naturally, he didn't want to admit that he had been thinking about her, so the answer he gave was, "I was just thinking of how I've never done anything like this: reading with someone, especially a woman."

"Are you uncomfortable doing this?" she asked hesitantly.

"No, no! I am not uncomfortable at all. In fact, I rather like doing this. It's something new and I am enjoying the company I'm in."

"I am enjoying the company, as well, and I'm glad you think all of that. It's nice to try something new for a change."

"Exactly. I'm very glad you suggested this idea."

"As am I."

Thorin's mouth started to curve into a smile, but then it dropped and his eyebrows furrowed as he looked past her head with a curious look on his face.

Lancaeriel, wondering what was making him look like that, turned around to see what was behind her, but there was nothing there.

"What are you looking at?" she asked him.

"I thought I saw movement; a shadow…but I suppose I'm just seeing things."

She nodded, understanding.

"Shall we continue?"

"Yes, please!"

Lancaeriel shifted closer to Thorin so she was right up against his shoulder as he continued reading:

"…and the song of Luthien released the bonds of winter, and the frozen waters spoke, and flowers sprang from the cold earth where her feet had passed…."

While the story-reading went on for about the next half hour, the Dwarf Prince and the Elven Princess were both thinking sweet things about each other deep in their minds, both of their thoughts unbeknownst to the other.

.

Hope you liked this chapter! :) Don't forget to leave a review or send me a PM!

Now to "cite my sources" like you do for a paper or essay (blech!) I know I don't need to, but it's just in case anyone wants to know:

All of the information about Durin and the Kings Under the Mountain are from the Lord of the Rings Wiki, which is super awesome! I'd list all the pages I used, but there were a few, so I'll spare you all of that. If anyone wants to know what pages I used, just let me know and I'll tell you!

Also a few details about Durin was from a note called "A story about Durin" on the "Oin, son of Groin" Facebook page!

And then, of course, everything about Beren and Lúthien is from "The Silmarillion" :)

Next chapter will be the royal banquet and you will find out something interesting about Lancaeriel...and I can guarantee that none of you will be able to guess what it is! xD

So be sure to stay tuned, my lovelies! ;D