Chapter 8
"Morning laddie," Balin greeted Bilbo the next day when the hobbit left his rooms.
"Good morning, Balin," Bilbo said. "What's on the agenda for today?"
Balin smiled at him. "We will be readying you for your coronation tomorrow."
Bilbo stopped in his tracks and blinked. When Balin turned to find out what the matter was, he managed an uncertain, "Oh?"
"Of course. Didn't Thorin tell you?" Balin asked.
"He did mention something about a coronation yesterday. I didn't realize he meant we would actually be holding one any time soon." And suddenly, the extra warm greeting he'd received from his husband that morning made a great deal of sense. "Oh, he is going to pay," Bilbo muttered as he followed Balin down the corridors, headed to wear Dori had apparently been busy making clothes for the royal family for the occasion with whatever suitable materials he could find.
While Dori fussed and fitted the dwarrow style tunic and trousers to Bilbo's frame, he looked to Balin. "Is Fili going to be up for this?" he asked. "I know he still has trouble standing for long periods of time."
"I'll be fine," Fili groused from where he limped his way into the room, crutches tucked securely under his arms. "I'm injured, not made of glass, Bilbo."
Concern slithered its way into Bilbo's chest. Fili didn't normally snap. Looking closer, he saw the skin around the dwarf's eyes and mouth seemed tighter than usual. Pain, Bilbo decided. His leg. "I didn't mean you weren't strong," Bilbo said. "I'm just concerned for your well-being."
Fili sighed heavily next to him, some of the tension seeping from his shoulders. He shook his head, casting an apologetic look at the hobbit. "I'm just sick of being treated like I can't function without help."
"I know, Fili, but you must understand we worry. The last thing we want is for you to work yourself so hard you make matters worse."
Fili's mouth set in a familiar, stubborn line and for a moment, Bilbo saw a great deal of Thorin in the expression. It wasn't very often Fili's appearance reminded Bilbo of the king.
"Just take it easy. You promised to teach me how to throw axes and I don't think you'll be able to do so on crutches," he said quickly before Fili could launch into a stubborn, defensive tirade.
It worked. Fili relaxed, a chuckle escaping him. "I can still teach you," he said. "Even with these blasted things." He lifted a crutch.
"You're done, Your Highness," Dori said and motioned for Bilbo to step down from the stool he'd been standing on so Dori didn't have to crouch as low to reach the cuffs of his trousers.
"Remember what I said," Bilbo said, wrapping Fili into a quick hug. "Why don't you join me for tea some time," he suggested. "I feel like I haven't gotten to talk to you or your brother in ages."
Fili smiled and Bilbo felt all the better for his efforts in cheering the dwarf, even for just a moment. "I'll be sure to do that."
Bilbo patted Fili's shoulder and left Dori's temporary domain, Balin joining him as he exited. "Come on," Balin said. "We have a lot to teach you and very little time."
Bilbo stifled a groan.
Bilbo fiddled with the sleeves of his new tunic nervously as Thorin carefully braided bits of his growing hair. "So, what should I expect about today? Balin told me about the importance and duties of a consort yesterday, but he didn't really tell me much about the ceremony itself."
Thorin added a bead to another braid and let it fall. It brushed against Bilbo's ear, sending a strange thrill down his spine. Really, he needed to warn Thorin about the sensitivity there one of these days. Granted, he also feared the ramifications of his husband finding out about that little bit about hobbit anatomy.
"Honestly, there's not much participation from either of us. We will kneel on the steps by the throne, Balin will go through the ceremony, we will swear to serve Erebor and her people – he did teach you the proper responses, yes? Good – and then he will crown us. We will take our place on the thrones, Fili will be crowned as my heir, and Kili will be crowned as a prince of Erebor and heir behind Fili."
"That seems simple enough," Bilbo said. "Hardly worth the fuss Balin was making it out to be."
Thorin chuckled. "Yes, he likes his pomp and circumstance on occasion. It's rather longwinded. Time could be spent more productively, but it is a necessary thing we do today. It will help solidify your place at my side and my place in the eyes of the dwarrow from the Iron Hills." He dropped a kiss to Bilbo's head and sectioned out another lock of hair, this one near the top of his head.
They remained silent for a time as Bilbo hesitated, unsure if he should voice his worries. "Help me keep an eye on Fili?" he asked finally. "He seemed to be in a lot of pain when I ran into him yesterday."
"I will help," Thorin said, "but I doubt he will need us today."
Bilbo nodded absently and got a tug on his hair in response.
"Hold still," Thorin admonished as he continued working with Bilbo's curls.
"Being married to you means I'm no longer allowed to cut this mess, doesn't it?" Bilbo asked, fingering one of the curls hanging in his face.
Thorin snorted. "Absolutely not. Besides, it's much easier to grip when its long," he said and slid his fingers into the mass at the back of Bilbo's head, gripping a handful gently and tipping Bilbo's head back so he could kiss him thoroughly.
"Your argument has merit," Bilbo said a bit unsteadily when Thorin released him. Thorin smirked at him and went back to placing the final braids in his hair.
When he finished, he placed a quick kiss on Bilbo's neck before stepping away from the chair where Bilbo sat. "As much as I would enjoy staying here and showing you how much I appreciate you allowing me to properly braid your hair, we had best leave or we'll be late."
Bilbo nodded and stood up, heading toward the door. He glanced back at Thorin. Pale blue eyes darted up to meet Bilbo's innocently. Bilbo huffed and scowled. "Quit your ogling and let's go," he ordered. "You're the one that said we'll be late."
Thorin nodded once, a smile tugging at his lips before he adopted his usual glower, and he caught up to Bilbo, following him out of the room. Dwalin waited for them outside, ready to escort them out of the royal wing when more guards would join them to escort them to the throne room.
"You can hardly blame me," Thorin said softly. "Seeing you dressed like that is very attractive."
Bilbo rubbed the back of his neck and glanced at his husband. "You think so?" he asked. "I feel a little foolish."
Thorin slid his hand across Bilbo's lower back and let it rest on his hip, pulling him close. "Trust me, Ghivashel. The clothes are very becoming," he growled lowly in Bilbo's ear.
Bilbo cleared his throat noisily. "Yes, well," he managed to say but couldn't think of anything more.
"Would the two of you mind saving that until after the coronation and you get back to your rooms?" Dwalin asked from behind them. "I don't need your sickening displays of affection so early in the day."
"Is that a hint of jealousy I hear in your voice, Dwalin?" Thorin asked over his shoulder.
Dwalin spluttered something incomprehensible but didn't comment further.
For all the time and effort Thorin had spent to reclaim Erebor, the coronation was a bit of a waste of time in his view. The ceremony was one of the more boring as far as dwarrow traditions dictated. Nothing at all like weddings or coming of age ceremonies.
About halfway through the ceremony movement caught Thorin's eye toward the very back of the platform of the throne room where every dwarrow within the mountain was gathered except a chosen few that were left to keep guard at the gates.
Thorin watched a dwarf shift and move, carefully making his way through the crowd, as if trying to get a better look at the proceedings but somehow always moving further to the back of the masses. He wasn't the only one moving though. Nori slid easily through the crowds on a line that would intercept the other dwarf close to the doors to the throne room. Carefully keeping his expression neutral, Thorin turned to stand on the step below Balin and face his people. He started talking, words of devotion and honor for his people, of protection of their rights and of their lands. The khuzdul rumbled easily from him, the speech one he'd been taught as a dwarfling and forced to repeat often during his lessons, and then used as a litany to help calm himself in times of stress.
Nori pounced on the moving dwarf when they reached the edge of the crowd near the door at the walkway's edge. Nori wrapped an arm around the dwarf's neck and leaned back, away from the gaping chasm beneath the walkway. The dwarf started to fall but Nori planted his feet and started dragging the struggling dwarf out of the open doorway, his other hand over the dwarf's mouth. He almost made it out of the room when the dwarf suddenly went still, falling limp in the spymaster's grip.
Thorin finished his speech and Balin set the heavy Raven crown on his head. Thorin tried to not show his displeasure as he stepped up to the throne to take his place as Bilbo stood to take his position and swear himself as Thorin's consort before Balin set one of the lighter and smaller crowns from the treasury on his mass of braided curls.
Then it was Fili's turn. He climbed the steps carefully on his crutches and set both feet on the ground when Balin started the ritual that would name Thorin's nephew as Crown Prince Under the Mountain. Thorin watched intently. Fili's bad leg started to shake, his hands gripped the handles of his crutches in a white-knuckled grip, and sweat dripped down his face, now drawn and pale in agony.
Dwalin caught Thorin's eye and then glanced quickly at Fili, a question there. Thorin gave the smallest shake of his head even as he shifted the slightest bit in preparation to move. If Fili needed help, Thorin would give it himself. As it was, he wanted to give his nephew the opportunity to stand on his own as he was finally, officially crowned as Thorin's heir, and the Crown Prince Under the Mountain.
Thorin gripped the armrests of his throne, ready to launch himself towards his nephew when Fili started to sway slightly on his feet. Balin lowered the golden coronet Thorin had once worn onto Fili's head and finally, finally, Fili took his seat on Thorin's left.
As he passed, Bilbo lifted a hand just enough to touch Fili's wrist. The young dwarf looked at Bilbo with a strained twitch of his lips that would have passed as a smile if he weren't in so much pain. Thorin breathed a discreet sigh of relief once Fili had settled in the smaller throne at his side.
"Well done, Nephew," Thorin murmured in khuzdul. "You have shown strength, courage, and honor this day."
"Thank you, Uncle," Fili said, equally quiet. Something inside Thorin warmed. Rarely did Fili ever refer to him as such outside of anywhere that was truly private. Thorin nodded once and turned his attention to where Balin was just starting the much shorter speech to crown Kili as a lesser prince.
Finally, Balin finished his speech and Thorin stepped forward with Bilbo and his nephews to be presented to the assembled dwarrow.
"Behold the Line of Durin, Rulers Under the Mountain."
A rousing cheer erupted when Balin stepped aside. Dwarrow chanted war cries and various versions of "All Hail the King." When the din finally died down, Thorin led Bilbo, Fili, and Kili from the throne room.
And everyone returned to work.
There would be no feast, not with their food stores limited in case of a long winter. The would truly celebrate once the final caravans from Ered Luin arrived, bringing the last of his people home when another coronation would be held in honor of them and of Dis' return. The rest of the Company would be granted titles then as well.
Nori caught up to Thorin outside his personal office. The never dying beast known as paperwork awaited him in a large pile, even if he only had about an hour before his next council meeting. He welcomed the spymaster's intrusion.
"What happened?" Thorin asked once the door shut behind them. "Was it an assassination attempt?"
Nori sat on the armrest of a chair without asking, slouching slightly. "Doesn't seem like it," he said.
"Then what? Why did you subdue a dwarf?"
"He was carrying this," Nori said and pulled something out of his bag. Thorin took the cloth-wrapped package and frowned. He pushed the material aside and his eyebrows rose.
"This is," he murmured.
"Aye," Nori said. "It's a replica of Bilbo's crown. Nothing nefarious here that I can tell, other than an attempt to claim the hobbit not crowned as consort properly. Found him trying to switch it out a few hours before the ceremony. Stopped him and let him get away, see if he'd lead me to anyone else. Unfortunately, seems to be working alone."
"Sabotage." Thorin didn't know if he should feel relieved or upset. "At least no one was trying to kill him. Still, it is treason."
"I wouldn't go that far," Nori said with a smirk. "That reminds me. The Captain has a present in the guardhouse, all wrapped up nice and tight for him. Has he started using the cells yet? I didn't see anyone in there."
Thorin scowled. "Not as yet. Who's occupying them now?"
"Just a common crook that somehow made his way into the last group from the Iron Hills. Hired knife and not a very good one at that. Inexperienced. Was hired to make a swap but didn't succeed. Barely got in the front gate before I sniffed him out. The Captain can handle him just fine. If he needs my help with it, I'll find him." Nori stood from his perch and went towards the door. Just before opening it, he turned back to Thorin. "You might consider letting your council know about that," he said with a nod towards the fake crown. "We'll see if anything shakes loose from them. Just because our crook didn't rabbit directly to someone doesn't mean he isn't working with them. Had to have gotten that sorry excuse for a crown from somewhere."
Thorin nodded and Nori left.
He made an honest attempt to finish some of the paperwork but only managed to make it through a single page. He kept looking over at the false crown, irritation flaring at each glance. Finally, he gave up and went to the council meeting.
Bilbo wasn't there. Good. Thorin took his seat at the head of the table. Instead of waiting for yet another rehashing of the appropriateness of having Men in the mountain or the useless concerns for their food storage and so on, Thorin stood once the last dwarf took a seat.
He pulled the fake crown from the inner pocket of his surcoat where he'd hidden it. It rang loudly when it hit the scarred table. Every eye in the room turned to the crown and then shifted to him. "Someone tried to sabotage the coronation," Thorin said without preamble. "Someone tried to leave that in place of Bilbo's crown, hoping to claim he was not crowned properly. He was caught and is in custody."
No one spoke a word.
Thorin's scowl deepened and he braced himself on the table, knowing full well that the strength of his arms would be on full display. "There is a traitor in our midst," he continued through gritted teeth, "and when I find out who it is, they will be shaved, branded, and thrown out of the mountain. Am I understood?"
Protestations of innocence and accusations flew across the table wildly, sparing no one but Thorin himself, and Ori who sat off to the side, recording the meeting's events as quickly as he could. Someone even accused Dwalin of duplicity to which Thorin leveled a deadpan stare at Brugaat as if to ask if he'd lost his sanity.
"It must have been one of those Men who did it!" Streknuls cried, leaning across the table to stare at Thorin.
"How do you figure?" Dwalin demanded. "The dwarf was from the Iron Hills."
News to Thorin, but then, he hadn't been down in the guard house for the last hour grilling the accused dwarf for information.
"Impossible," Brugaat snapped. "No dwarf from the Iron Hills would dare defy their king!"
"And yet, you've been very vocal about His Majesties choice in consort and his decision to aid the Dalesmen," Dwalin drawled.
Brugaat closed his mouth, refusing to utter anything more on the matter as he stared down at the table.
"Bring forth the accused," Streknuls demanded. "Let us ask him ourselves why he would do such a thing."
The rest of the council agreed readily and Thorin nodded at Dwalin. He sent another guard outside of the room to fetch the dwarf Nori had caught. Arguing continued while they waited. When the guard returned with the bound dwarf, Thorin had retaken his seat and summarily ignored the council. He couldn't wait until dwarrow from Ered Luin started to arrive and he could include their number in the council and send some of the current fools back to Dain and the Iron Hills. Brugaat and Streknuls were at the top of the list.
Finally, the guard arrived with the accused dwarf bound at wrists and ankles. Dwalin stepped forward to take custody. The guard stepped back to take a position alongside the other guard already stationed in the room.
"Jubral?" Brugaat asked incredulously, once again jumping to his feet. He glared at Dwalin. "What's the meaning of this? He can't be your saboteur."
"I am, Cousin," the dwarf said. "I intended to keep the Halfling from being crowned as prince consort. No non-dwarf should rule Under the Mountain."
"And there's that word again," Thorin muttered to himself.
"Enough," Brugaat growled. "Don't say another word." His eyes flickered briefly toward Thorin and then to Dwalin before settling back on Jubral. "There must be a mistake. We'll find the true culprit."
"There is no one else," Jubral said and turned to look at Thorin. Immediately, he dropped his eyes and fell to his knees. "Your Majesty. I meant no disrespect to you or the Line of Durin. I only wish to keep our home free of those that would tarnish Durin's Folk."
Thorin glared at Jubral. "It is not your place to make such a decision," he snapped. "Jubral, you are forthwith banished from Erebor. Your beard and hair will be shorn and you will be branded a traitor for your treason against the line of Durin."
Dwarrow around the table lurched to their feet outraged in their protests.
"Silence!" Thorin roared over the din and all eyes turned to him. "He has knowingly committed treason. The punishment is clear. As he did not attempt to murder the Royal Consort, he will be given enough rations to last a week." He turned and nodded at Dwalin who motioned for the guard to return Jubral to the cells to wait for his sentence to be carried out.
"Your Majesty. Could we wait until the storm passes at the very least?" Brugaat asked.
Thorin's mouth set in a hard line. By law, he should throw the dwarf out immediately. But to start his reign in Erebor by basically sentencing a dwarf to death did not sit well with him. "The moment the storm abates, he will be cast out," Thorin said. He stood and left without another word, unwilling to listen to his council protest the matter further.
He wanted to be near Bilbo.
Thorin found Bilbo sitting in a chair in the Hall of Kings. A ring of human children sat at his feet, their parents milling around nearby, folding laundry, resting, mending, and generally completing tasks that didn't take a lot of concentration while the watched their children and listened to the tales being told. All listened attentively to the hobbit. Even the teenagers who tried to believe they were too old to be told stories hovered just too close to be truly disinterested to listen as Bilbo spoke.
Thorin watched, too far away to truly hear what Bilbo said, but could gather what it was from the gestures he made. The fight with Azog and the other wargs and orcs on the mountainside down from the goblin caves. He watched as Bilbo stuck one arm up in front of him and then tipped it backward in the similitude of a tree falling over. His audience gasped aloud, even some of the teenagers.
Thorin was about to silently leave when motion off to the side caught his eye. He turned and watched Fili sink to the ground, his bad leg stretched out in front of him as he listened to Bilbo spin the tale. Something shifted in his chest as he remembered a much younger version of his nephew sitting on the dirt floor of a forge many years ago, listening as Thorin told him of their histories, of the people they must honor, and the dwarf the little Fili should someday become. Would someday become.
Had become.
Had surpassed.
Thorin left the Hall, his mood greatly improved at the reminder of his nephew's courage and strength, of his determination to stand with Thorin as they defended Erebor.
He would remember to thank Bilbo later for telling stories to children. Endearing in and of itself, the action had also brought an amused smile to Fili's lips as he listened to the hobbit's version of their quest on a day where he'd had to banish one of his own from Erebor. That alone deserved some form of recognition.
