Thanks to all who add, and to my reviewers: Skywolf42, Wynni, Vanafindiel, and FeeKilico!
This was a bit rushed. Any spelling mistakes or other errors will be seen to. Thank you.
Chapter 7 – Unexpected Taxation
Hemery ran down the stairs to the great hall, but stopped in front of the smaller door next to the throne room. Catching her breath, she saw Balin waiting for her.
"Miss Skinner," he said formally, but his eyes betrayed him with an amused twinkle.
"I hear no screamin' yet," she said, bypassing pleasantries. "I take it they have not tried to kill each other?" She motioned to the people beyond the door.
"Don't be so sure," Balin replied. "Bain wants to lower the trade tax, hoping to get his way because of Esgaroth and Erebor's special relationship."
"Thorin hates mixing business with sentimentality. And he hates Bain," Hemery specified. "The man would have a better chance getting' lower taxes by comin' out and simply threatening to cut off our trade route through the lake."
Balin shook his head, unbothered. "He wouldn't dare."
"They're stubborn as goats, both of them. Who knows?"
"Erebor could establish new routes within a year or two. Esgaroth, on the other hand, would dry up—so to speak," he explained, smiling at his pun.
"Thorin feels too much responsibility towards Lake Town to let that happen."
"So much for his disdain of sentimentality," Balin said dryly.
"The dragon will never stop hauntin' you people." Hemery sighed.
Kíli opened the door to the assembly.
"They're just about to resume after lunch," he said.
"Good," Hemery said. "The last thing we need is a hungry—angrier than usual—king."
Kíli opened the door wider, allowing them inside. A big table of polished, black marble—Thorin and four other dwarves on one side, three men on the other. Several people stood along the walls, men as well as dwarves, guards and advisors.
One of the men at the table rose from his seat. The chair made a grating sound against the stone floor when it was pushed back.
"Lady Hemery," Bain exclaimed cheerfully, though the atmosphere in the room was quiet and tense. He was a man of five and forty, clean-shaven and tall, with a handsome posture. His hair was pushed back, gathered with a cord at the nape where grey mingled with brown locks.
Hemery had encountered him several times in formal settings during the last few months, finding him to be a pleasant man, but often carried a forced smile. Not that he was in any way false, but she thought that perhaps he was not as happy as he attempted to appear.
She smiled brilliantly at him and offered her hands when he approached her. Men did not shake women's hands in the same manner dwarves did. Instead, he took both her hands in his and held them while they exchanged greetings, thumbs moving in a light caress on her knuckles.
"I have not the honour of such a title, Lord Bain," Hemery said.
"And yet, I will bestow the honour upon you as often as I can," he replied merrily before he released her.
"I'd rather you bestowed honour on your agreements, m'lord," she said, tilting her head in question, inviting him to explain himself.
Bain had the decency to adopt a regretful face at that.
"Times change, my lady. Currency changes. What seemed reasonable yesterday does not seem so today," he said mournfully. "And His Majesty King Thorin does not see favourably on compromises," he added, addressing both her and the council.
Bain's melody sounded similar to the usual lilt of men who would rather be paid by Erebor than to pay Erebor. However, Bain was rarely anything but frank. And if he used the same kind of affected regret to gain sympathy, something was clearly wrong.
Hemery did not reply right away, neither did Balin or Kíli who had moved to stand next to Thorin's chair. No one sat at the king's table unless asked, and he had not uttered a word. He merely leaned back in his seat, hands leisurely on the armrests, and followed the conversation with a certain annoyed disinterest.
Hemery let the silence stretch as she moved to a sideboard where servants had readied tea. She added milk and sipped her cup before speaking again.
"Erebor has conducted trade here since before either of us were born," Hemery said, keeping her voice clear and even, but soft, in order to neither confirm nor dismiss his argument. "If anyone knows time, it's these noble dwarves."
She swept her hand toward the table of council members.
"You and I both admire their wisdom which they have gained through that time. The kind of time we could never dream of experiencin'." She talked of her and Bain as if they were the same, to indicate a familiarity and her understanding of his perspective.
"Where is the reason we cannot find an agreement?" Hemery smiled politely so he could find no offense in her words.
"The terms are agreeable," Bain said, as if this had been his opinion the whole time. "But conditions demand we build a new house of healing. I didn't want to burden you with my problems, but . . ." He sounded genuinely concerned. "There was a tragedy at the old house, a devastating fire that spread quickly. It was impossible to save. That's why we need this exemption, you see. Expenses have unexpectedly risen."
Hemery kept her face blank, but glanced at the king and the others. Thorin made no attempt to interfere. He merely stroked his bearded chin as if in contemplation or boredom—she could never tell which. Hem focused on Bain once more.
"That's truly a tragedy. Except—" Hemery's eyebrows knitted in thought. "As I understand it, that house was condemned. Was it not supposed to be torn down?"
"It was good for a few more years," Bain defended.
"Yet, the house was empty when the fire started. It was soon contained, and no one was hurt. That's hardly a tragedy."
"That fire destroyed two thousand square feet of my city's foundation—"
"The tragedy is that you use this convenient accident as leverage in your bargain," Hemery maintained, "despite the fact that your office has not paid their taxes in full for years. The money saved there should surely be enough to build ten new houses of healing—even on water. I suggest you find the missin' funds so you can start reconstruction."
Bain's eyes revealed the feverish activity in his mind, trying to come up with some way to sway her. She knew Bain did not have it easy as lord of Lake Town, but she also knew Erebor could not keep making exceptions for him without being forced to do the same for others. He had to find a way to solve his financial issues. It was his duty.
"You would hold old mistakes against us in time of need?" he asked.
His voice was bordering on accusation, and Hem felt a flare of stress in her chest. Thorin would not stand for much more of this. She had to wrap it up.
"Apples," she exclaimed. "You may have lower tax on apples."
Bain almost snorted. "That's absurd."
"Why, because they rot when hoarded in vaults? Yes, that would be absurd, but don't say the king never compromises." Hemery smiled tightly.
Bain looked at the king, probably to protest, but whatever he saw there made his jaw clench in resignation. She was prepared for a different opinion from the council, but there was nothing. She feared they found Bain's wish even more inappropriate than she did.
Hem's gaze remained on Bain. He smiled without mirth as he approached her.
"I understand. I thank His Majesty King Thorin for his time. And I apologize for wasting yours."
She smiled her brilliant smile again, trying to diffuse the last of the tension.
"I truly believe Erebor and Esgaroth will continue to thrive side by side." Hemery refrained from saying together, making it clear the respective cities would be kept separate and that he was on his own.
"Of course, my lady."
"I'll see you out," she said, holding out a hand as a request for him to escort her from the room.
They walked through the great corridor, Bain's men and Bror behind them. Hemery wondered who of Bain's advisors had found it a wise idea to bring this request to Thorin. Despite her answer in the assembly, she sincerely hoped Bain would manage to regain control of his city.
"Will this be brought to rest, m'lord?" she asked as they moved away from the meeting room.
Bain looked at her, a friendly softness in his eyes once more.
"You look well, Lady Hemery," he said, changing the subject. "The south seemed to agree with you."
Hemery had loved her time in Minas Tirith, but the fulfilment of learning was a temporary satisfaction. She had longed to return to the Lonely Mountain where she could put her knowledge to use together with her family. At the time, she had no idea just how much she would have use of her knowledge of the cultures of dwarves and men.
"The north agrees with me better," she stated with a content smile.
"Your talents are wasted on these fossils," he said.
Hemery glanced around her, furtively making sure no one heard him. She knew Bain paid her a compliment, a conspiratorial jest between the two of them, but this was an aspect of men she did not miss from her time in Tirith. She could never forgive men's natural instinct to look down on dwarves—no pun intended. Dwarves were stubborn, suspicious, and hot-tempered, but never did they mock other races as easily as men did.
She smiled patiently. "My talents are my own, m'lord, to use as I see fit."
"Curious how you should choose to . . . forfeit your life to serve a dwarven king," Bain mused.
"Forfeit?" she echoed in disbelief.
"Does he not demand your presence whenever he chooses? At all hours of the day?"
Sure, sometime it was early morning or late night, but she would rather he called her when he needed to than to delay important business. Of course, it was Thorin's business, not hers. And she still did not know why he placed this responsibility on her when he had others in his employ that could just as well do what she did.
"Not all hours of the day. It's a great honour to aid the council. Balin is an old friend, and Kíli is like a brother to me," she stated, facing forward with her chin up.
Hemery could make up excuses to Bain or anyone else who asked, but she knew why she did not refuse Thorin. When he summoned her and when she spoke before the council, she felt good. She felt like she did something worthwhile, even if it was just slapping the wrist of some tavern manager for using the wrong waste disposal tunnels. She felt like she helped the people of Erebor—that she was a part of Erebor. And if she happened to please Thorin in the process, she would gladly attend court every day.
"And what of Thorin?" Bain asked. "What is he to you?"
Guileless as Hemery was, distanced from the formal setting of the meeting room, she immediately over-thought the question. Thorin was the uncle of her brother-in-law, but also not. Fíli and Hanah were not married. Thorin was the great uncle to her niece. Yes, that was true. But it did not answer why she attended court on his request. Were they friends? She had asked herself this many times, but found all answers unsatisfactory. He was not her friend like Balin, Kíli, or Dwalin. No one was like Thorin. And Thorin did not have friends.
"He's—" Surprise at his forwardness made her stutter. "He's my king." It was the most honest and simple answer to a very difficult question.
Bain nodded, thinking about her response. "Take care, Lady Hemery. I would hate for you to lose yourself in these tunnels."
His concern was real, but she did not quite understand what he meant. Did he not think it proper for her, as mankind, to attend to a dwarven court? Not wishing to extend this line of conversation any longer, she smiled nonchalantly.
"Thank you for your consideration, m'lord, but rock walls can't hold me."
"If you change your mind, you can always come work for me," he said.
She pursed her lips, as if considering his proposal. "Get yourself some new accountants, and we'll talk," she jested.
He chuckled, squeezing her hand one last time.
Hemery left Lord Bain at the end of the corridor before returning to the meeting hall. As she neared the closed doors, she could hear heated voices on the other side. She entered swiftly, fearing the council disapproved of the result of the day's discussion. But most of them had dispersed, only Thorin, Kíli, and Balin remained.
"Next time, I shall cut off his greedy hands," Thorin growled to Balin before he noticed Hem's presence and fell quiet.
Hemery hurried to close the door behind her.
"Please," she hissed forcefully. "Keep it down. He's barely out the door."
Thorin turned away, clearly still agitated. Balin and Kíli averted their eyes as well, as if they had been discussing something too sensitive for her ears.
Was there some part of Bain's problems Hemery was unaware of? She thought she had done rather well; the council did not want to agree to Bain's wishes, and she managed to send him home without too much resistance.
"What's the matter?"
No one spoke.
"I hope you're not unhappy with my performance," she said, uncertain now.
Balin approached her then, smiling tensely, and motioned for her to join him outside. He was careful not to touch her.
"Gratitude, Miss Hemery. Yer assistance is invaluable, as always."
He obviously used the compliment to get rid of her so the dwarves could speak privately.
"Fine," she settled, taking a calming breath. She had realised long ago that people would always infuriate her, and it was always in her best interest to not show it.
"If anyone needs me," she said, "I'll be in Hanah's workshop—not to be disturbed."
Hemery turned on her heel and left them to their secrets.
Admittedly, she was not a member of the king's council, he did not even pay her for her time, but she would feel much more secure in her tasks if they allowed her insight to every aspect of the problem. She felt like she was treading water when they shut her out like that.
The next few days were quiet. Hemery spent the mornings with Dis and the schoolmasters, going through the details of the new education system. The afternoons she spent working with Hanah.
"There's smoke comin' from the ridge," Hanah said one day as they sat down in her shop.
Hemery froze, staring at her sister. Hanah had a needle in her hand and a thimble on her fingertip, pushing through thick leather without pause when she returned the look.
"What kind of smoke?" Hem asked stupidly.
"Fire smoke from Blackwater," Hanah clarified. "Sigrid saw it from her yard this mornin'. A big fire, she reckoned."
"Is the town destroyed?" Hemery did not know how she felt about that. Gleeful with a tint of shame, or concerned?
"Most of the houses are stone, but the landlord's is not." Hanah pursed her lips in thought.
Hem's thumbnail dug distractedly into the bread bun in her hand. "Is there any news? Any way to know for sure?"
"No, but Thorin is plannin' to find out what's happened," Hanah frowned. "He and Kíli are leavin' in two days."
"They're actually goin' to Blackwater?" Hemery felt a trickle of ice along her spine.
"Will you go with them?"
Hanah's question baffled Hem. She shook her head. "No, they haven't asked me. I didn't even know about it until you told me."
Hanah smiled crookedly. "I meant that I want you to go with them."
"Why?"
"He's takin' a small company, only fifty dwarves on horseback. It's personal for Thorin, otherwise he'd send Fíli, and I would go with him."
Hemery's mind reeled. So few. If Thorin angered the landlords, which he would, the fifty dwarves would be too few to defend themselves.
Hanah caught her gaze, looking at her with wide, expressive eyes.
"They must not come into conflict. You know Thorin, he has a temper—they all do," Hanah said, rolling her eyes. "Will you go with them? He listens to you."
Hemery snorted and rubbed her eyes. She had not even been able to persuade Thorin to give a blanket to a freezing man from Blackwater, much less stop him from antagonising people who already hated him.
"He does," Hanah insisted. "I don't want you to go back there. I really don't. But I know the landlady is as deranged as she is vile. You can navigate them through a confrontation. You can make sure those dwarves come back alive and that this doesn't escalate into violence between the cities."
Hemery sighed, looking back at Hanah.
This was not her job. Thorin had not asked her to come. And she definitely did not want to go. If she did, Hemery feared she would be the one to bring violence on the Brages.
But she would do anything Hanah asked her to. And if her influence could spare even one life, of course she would go.
She sat up straight in her chair, stroking her hair and following the strands to the tight knot at the back. Taking a deep breath, she nodded in determination.
"Sure," Hemery said.
At dinner, Thorin was nowhere to be seen.
Kíli sat next to Hemery, regarding her with a worried frown. "So will you come?"
Hem glanced at Hanah accusingly. Had Kíli put her up to this? Surely not. Hemery was convinced Hanah meant every word she had said.
"Don't worry, Kíli," Hanah said, smiling innocently. "Hem will protect you."
His appetite seemed to return with a vengeance at hearing this news, loading his plate with food.
"Praise Mahal. For a while there, I feared I was setting out towards my doom."
"I haven't done anythin' yet," Hemery said. She had not had time to properly grasp the idea that she was going back to that cursed place after ten years.
"Your presence will be a comfort in itself," Dis said, complacent. "I, for one, will sleep soundly knowing you're all there together. It's a great service you are rendering us all."
"Now, there's only one more thing to do," Fíli said conclusively.
"What's that?" Hemery asked.
"Tell Uncle, of course," Fíli smirked.
Hemery's stomach flipped. He did not know? Was this all Hanah's and Fíli's idea?
Fortunately, Fíli and Kíli would do the telling and she would do the accompanying. This time, it suited her fine.
"Where are you going?" Híli asked from across the table, looking curiously at the adults around the table.
"Ehm—" Hemery began uncertainly. "You remember that snake demon I told you about—?"
"Hem," Hanah loudly interrupted Hemery's attempt at an explanation. "Híli, I'll explain later, love."
