A/N: Okay, a longer one this time. The long awaited council meeting... ;) Some Alana/Dis family moments in there too, for those of you who like them. Anywho, onwards! :)

Big thanks to the following people for following/favouriting: the-asian-fidget, Catherine. alice, Kuyen and LumosNox116. Thanks, guys! :)

Review Response(s):

Faron Oakenshield: Hmm, hopefully this one lives up to expectation, then... :D

StarAvengerWho: Haha, that's a good thing, right? ;)

ro781727: ... I'm pretty sure they don't... From what I can remember, no one really knows what happens to men when they die - they go to Valinor only briefly, and then leave 'The World', but what that means isn't entirely clear. As for dwarves, again, it's not 100% written in concrete, but I think the general consensus is that they have their own place within the halls solely for their race (like with all the others). And no, Alana didn't know about Bilbo's plan with the trolls. She worked it out only a few seconds before Thorin, when she was grabbed by the troll.

Tristana379: I hope the translating isn't too difficult for you. I can imagine it's quite time-consuming. And, don't worry, you don't have to be too scared about the meeting. Most of them are nice :D

Guest: I tend to leave that note up there just so people know that the new story is posted, but I guess it wouldn't hurt to move that onto the end of the last chapter...


'A river cuts through rock, not because of its power, but because of its persistence.' ~ Jim Watkins


Chapter 8:

"You must be mad to think I'm letting you go in there alone!" Dís protested heartily, a stern frown on her face.

Alana chuckled, sitting in front of a mirror and allowing Dís to tidy up her hair for the council. "I'll hardly be alone," she countered. "Thorin will be there, of course, and don't forget Balin is also part of the council. They're more than enough."

Dís huffed. "You don't know those Lords like I do, Alana," she said more seriously. "Some of them could have been vultures in another life; or wolves."

Alana chuckled. "I've probably faced worse," she pointed out.

Shaking her head, Dís' fingers paused, and she stepped around Alana to face her properly. "I cannot stress enough how important this meeting is," the Princess stated, and Alana's face dropped upon hearing the genuine fear and worry in Dís' voice. "I know as well as you that Thorin's decisions are final, and he won't let the council stop the two of you from getting married. But the council still have power - they are very high up in society, and a lot of them would do anything to remain there. Anything."

Alana blinked. "Okay... But why would that affect this meeting?"

Dís sighed. "Because some of them have family members that they had hoped to marry off to someone of higher social standing. For some, that means marrying directly into the royal bloodline. They see you as an obstacle in their route to power. There are two in particular who you must be wary of - Lords Venrik and Boitu. Both have dwarrowdams in their family within fifty years of Thorin's age, and both have been trying to draw his eyes their way for longer than I can recall. My brother never showed any particular interest in either of the dams, but your arrival has meant that the Lords' chances to marry them off have all but disappeared. So be wary of them - they are easily insulted, easily angered, and I have no doubt that they may fall upon less-than-honourable means to further their own ends."

With a cocked eyebrow, Alana asked, "You mean you think they'll try to kill me?"

Dís slowly shook her head. "I find that very unlikely. They are not kind, by any means, but I don't think they would dare to make an attempt on your life. No, but they may try to threaten you, or scare you off, or even kidnap you and trick Thorin into believing you have left him of your own choice."

Alana was quiet for a moment, mulling over Dís' words, but then her face hardened, and she turned her eyes back to the mirror. "Let them try," she stated coldly, and with a sigh Dís let the matter drop, returning to her place behind Alana and making the last few adjustments to the Ranger's hair. Then a new thought stuck her mind, and Alana cautiously asked, "Dís, how did you cope after your husband died?"

Dís froze in place, caught off guard by the question. Then she sighed. "It wasn't easy," she admitted. "There were many moments when I thought it would be impossible for me to go on living without him. The early days were the worst - I kept turning to speak to him, and sometimes I sat for hours in front of the fire waiting for him to come home, only to remember that he was never coming back." She placed her hands on Alana's shoulders, meeting the woman's eyes in the mirror. "Fili and Kili kept me going," she admitted at last. "They needed me, and their father's death hurt them just as much as it did me. It was my determination to be there for them that helped me to cope." Her eyes lowered. "But one thing you must understand is that the pain of loss never goes away completely. I still miss him dearly, despite not having seen him for more than seventy years. And it still hurts to think he's gone from this world."

Alana averted her gaze to the ground, fiddling with her fingers. "Thorin will die one day," she whispered. "And I will have to go on without him." She met Dís' gaze again, eyes tearful. "When that day comes, will you help me? I don't think I'll be able to get through it alone."

"You'll never be alone, namad," Dís murmured soothingly. "And I will help as much as I can. I cannot promise I will be able to take the pain away, though. I know you have lost your father, but I must warn you that losing your other half... It's a different kind of agony, a special kind of torture. When he dies, you will bear the hole in your heart that he leaves behind for the rest of your life."

Alana smiled sadly, nodding her head. It was a harsh subject to talk about, but she appreciated Dís' honesty on the matter. Inhaling sharply, Alana glanced over her appearance in the mirror and then stood up. "I ought to go, before I'm late," she said, smiling at Dís with as much sincerity as she could muster. "Thank you, muinthel, for all your help."

Dís nodded. "Just be sure to come and find me if you get any trouble from those gamil kakhuf (old turds)."

Alana laughed at Dís' words, but offered an agreeing nod nonetheless, and with a parting grin Alana headed for the council room.

It wasn't far from the royal suites, and Alana was beaten there only by Thorin, who offered a smile from his place a few feet from the table when he looked her way.

"Sasakhabiya abnâmul, (You look beautiful,)" he told her.

Alana rolled her eyes. "Oh yes, because Dís redoing my hair made all the difference in the world," she murmured sarcastically, before planting a playful peck on his lips. "But thank you, anyway."

Thorin chuckled at her behaviour, taking her hands in his and looking up at her, his eyes becoming serious. "How do you feel?"

"I'm feeling okay, actually," she said, smiling. "Your sister and I spoke while she was helping me and... it helped me to get rid of my nerves, oddly enough. It wasn't the sort of conversation that would normally do that, but-"

"You're far from a normal woman," he finished with a cheeky wink. Alana laughed, not denying it, and not ashamed of it either.

"Such a charmer you are, Master Oakenshield," she teased.

Thorin's answering grin was wide and borderline mischievous, before they were interrupted by the sound of the door opening. Three of the twelve dwarves in the council entered, offering polite inclinations of their heads to Thorin and Alana, before taking their seats. Thorin tilted his head back to Alana. "Still feeling alright?" he checked.

Alana rolled her eyes. "I'm fine, Thorin. You know you can't afford to check on me every five seconds once the council has begun - just take my word for it, okay?"

Thorin chuckled. "As you wish, my Lady."

The two paused when a train of seven more Lords came in, followed at last by Balin, who closed the door behind him. With the whole council now present, Alana and Thorin moved to take their seats at the table. Thorin sat at the head of the table, of course, and Alana sat on the chair to his immediate right.

"As you were all present at this morning's meeting, you know why we are here." Thorin met the eyes of every member of the council as he spoke, his gaze hard and stern. "You have been given several weeks to think on this - whether you have been directed to or not, it cannot be denied that you all have your thoughts about my betrothal to the Lady Alana. I would ask now that each of you share your opinions. Do not be afraid to speak honestly, but I would ask that you remain open-minded for whatever we may wish to say to you in return."

No one said anything at first, none of them wanting to be the first to speak, before Balin shifted in his chair. All eyes were instantly on him. The white haired dwarf gave a wry smile. "I'm sure it's no secret that I have known the lass the longest of all but the King," he began, shooting Alana a covert wink. "And I like to think I am a good judge of character. We travelled together for many months last year, and I personally spoke to her many times during the journey about what was blooming between her and our esteemed King." Alana let out a quiet snort at that, much to the surprise of many near her, but she couldn't help but smile in remembrance of those talks. Balin also had a hint of a smile on his face as he continued. "Lady Alana has multiple times shown her ability to be a just and fair leader - she has been the leader of her own kind since she was just seventeen. And what happened to her in Goblin Town speaks for itself; her loyalty is unwavering. I have said this before, and I shall say it a thousand more times if it proves necessary: I can think of no one better to take up the throne by our King's side."

"For those of us who are unaware," an elderly dwarf with deep wrinkles and paling hair piped up, his beard neatly tied into a single braid down his front, "might I inquire as to exactly what happened in the goblin tunnels? It is difficult to tell what is true and what is false when all one hears is rumour and speculation."

Thorin glanced at Alana, who just shrugged noncommittally. He turned back to face the suddenly very curious council. "When our company was incarcerated by the goblins in the mountains," he began, "the goblin King threatened to torture young Master Ori to get the information he wanted about where we were heading. Lady Alana stepped in to stop it, and in doing so was... harmed... in his place."

"Did she tell him?" a younger dwarf asked, his beard and hair thick, and a dull bronze in colour. His eyes were almost black, and there was a coldness to them that immediately put Alana on edge.

Thorin quirked an eyebrow. "No," he answered firmly. "She did not. Despite their best efforts, the destination of our journey remained something they did not find out - regardless of the fact the torture nearly killed her."

Alana quirked an eyebrow at him. "That was more having my foot torn to shreds by a warg, I would say," she interjected, smiling when Thorin turned to her.

He shook his head. "You did not see what I did," he countered. "Your foot injury might have been severe, but it was the wounds on your back that caused Oin to fear for your life."

"Aye, lass," Balin cut in. "'Tis true. That was a long night if ever there was one. For all of us."

Alana blinked, slightly startled to learn that, but before she could speak the dark eyed dwarf spoke up again. "Is it also true that she shares the blood of the old Kings of Arnor?"

Thorin didn't so much as bat an eyelid, though Alana stiffened almost imperceptibly. "She does," Thorin said. "She is, in fact, one of the few that are known to be connected to that line."

"Royal blood?" a new voice piped up, this coming from a grey haired dwarf with a beard long enough that he could tuck it into his belt. He settled back further into his chair. "Well then," he stated at length, "there is little left to say on my behalf. Only this; if she is truly of a King's blood, then you have my support as well."

Thorin titled his head to the side. "Thank you, Lord Avar."

"When was it that she was gifted with her dwarfish braids, my Lord?" another older dwarf questioned. He was the shortest in the group, with thick eyebrows and a stern face, though his eyes seemed kind. "That is not a gesture to be so lightly overlooked."

Thorin hummed thoughtfully. "If my memory serves me, Alana received her braids in the latter half of August. Just before we arrived at the edge of Mirkwood, and just after we left the house of the skin changer, Beorn."

"And there were no protests against it?"

"None at all," Balin cut in, his word being better to rely on, since Thorin did not take part in the original conversation to plan giving Alana her braids. "It was not a matter of 'if', but simply 'when'."

The dwarf Lord nodded. "To have such vehement support from not just one, but thirteen dwarves is a great achievement, my Lady," he said, bowing his head to the side. "And I have heard word that Lord Dain of the Iron Hills also supports your union to his cousin. As such, I give my support as well."

"I myself am undecided," another dwarf piped up, a contemplative frown on his face. "It cannot be denied that you are woman of great honour and skill, not to mention kind and compassionate, as any Queen should be. Already you have selflessly wandered into dangerous grounds to save the lives of a few miners." Alana's eyes flashed at that, not liking the way he spoke of the miners as if their lives were worth less than his, but a subtle glance from Thorin stopped her from speaking out. The dwarf Lord continued on, oblivious. "But the fact remains that you are not a dwarrowdam. The blood of the royal line would no longer be pure should you birth any children."

"That is true," yet another new voice piped up, this time coming from a dwarf with a beard almost as short as Thorin's, his eyes deep-set and weary. "But this, like many of the royal unions of our past, will improve our ties to other kingdoms. If the Lady Alana is a blood relative of the Kings of Arnor, then she will be a relative of the King of Gondor, if and when he returns. Gondor is a powerful kingdom, and a strong ally to have."

"The Gondorian line has ended," the black-eyed dwarf cut in sharply. "None but a direct descendent of the old Kings could reclaim the throne, and no such man exists. A marriage to someone who is only distantly connected to that line would offer no benefits."

Thorin and Alana exchanged looks, Thorin questioning, Alana troubled. She knew that informing these dwarves of the truth of her lineage would be a huge aid to their case, but Aragorn was neither old enough to defend himself, nor ready to learn of his place in the world. And if they said anything, there might be a chance that he found out before his time. Knowing Thorin would leave this entirely up to her, she instead turned to Balin, silently asking for his opinion. He paused, eyes drifting to his left, at some of the council members, before inhaling and offering a nod.

"Would you care to include us in your silent conversation, Lady Alana?" the cold dwarf asked, his voice clearly disapproving.

Alana met his eyes, her own firm and hard. "The Gondorian line remains intact," she told him sharply, causing something of a stir amongst the others. "The throne remains unclaimed, yes, but there are those alive who have the right to take it back." She paused, thinking through her words very carefully. "There is one who lived in my village before it was destroyed, whose name is Aragorn. He is the direct heir of Elendil, and the rightful King of Gondor."

"Then why has he not reclaimed the throne?" a silver haired dwarf asked curiously, his eyes the colour of deep amber.

Alana tilted her head to the side. "The time is not right," she stated calmly, then decided to add on a little more. "The dúnedain have their duties in the west. At the present time, those duties cannot be abandoned; the halflings of the Shire have no desire to see battle, and with the growing darkness, the presence of the dúnedain Rangers is more necessary now than it has been for a long time."

"Would you tell us about your people, Lady Alana?" the dwarf Lord asked, and Alana blinked in response, before acquiescing.

"The dúnedain are not so different than the men of Rohan and Gondor. Their lives stretch longer, and any one of them may live to see 200 winters if they are lucky, though those of the King's line tend to live longer." She paused, frowning. "By and large, they are peaceful, hardworking folk - farmers and the like. Most men are taught how to handle a blade, and some women also learn to defend themselves, though it is not the norm for them to do so. Some of our kind became Rangers, like myself. Rangers are trained to track and hunt, and are the greatest warriors of our kind. As I said, some have taken up position around the Shire, protecting those folk from the dark beings that wander there from time to time. Others simply wander the northern lands, living in solitude, though their main focus is also the defeat of any enemies they find." She let out a thoughtful hum. "Though the Rangers are scattered, they are still under the command of the Chieftain. On the rare occasion that they are needed, it is in him that their allegiances lie, as he is the heir of Elendil; to be protected above all others."

"And are there many women amongst the ranks of the Rangers, Lady Alana?" the dark eyed dwarf asked, his gaze probing.

Alana met his gaze evenly, though there was a hint of warning there. She sensed something off about this Lord, and guessed he was probably one of the ones Dís had warned her about. In that single look, she informed him that she would not be letting her guard down around him, and he responded in turn with a condescending smirk. All this happened in less than a second, and no one seemed to notice the exchange. "Not many, no." Her answer was a little more curt now, though she focused on smoothing out her voice when she realised how it sounded. "Most women choose a simpler life, and they are encouraged to do so. Those that choose to become a Ranger are, however, supported as much as the men, and many of the Rangers' greatest warriors over time have been women."

The silver haired dwarf hummed thoughtfully. "There are certain benefits to having a Queen who can fend for herself and protect others," he mused. "Your actions in the Battle of the Five Armies are well known to those in the mountain now."

Alana smiled sadly. "I'm sure a lot of what is said about it is untrue. I fought in that battle, yes, but so did hundreds of others - some of whom did not come out of that battle alive."

"And some of those that did owe it to you," he countered, and Alana glanced at him, perplexed. The old dwarf smiled. "Did you know that my nephew was part of Dain's army before we moved here? He has said many times that his life was saved by you during the battle - that you intercepted a blade meant to take him out." She was stunned, unable to think of anything to say. She knew she had probably saved a few lives that day, just as many others would likely have saved her without her knowing, but it was odd to think that someone remembered her as the one to save him. The old dwarf smiled. "Perhaps that makes me biased," he continued, "but anyone who can put their life on the line to save someone else deserves, if nothing else, the utmost respect. You have gained that in many of the people, and to have won the heart of the King is no small feat." He winked over at Thorin, who rolled his eyes fondly at the dwarf, and Alana realised then that he had probably known an awful lot of these dwarves for most of his life. They were more than just the King's council - many of these dwarves were likely also his personal friends. "For that reason, and many others, I shall say that I would be proud to have you as our Queen."


Alana was rather surprised to walk out of the council hall feeling so heartened. Six of the council had given their support for the marriage, three were undecided, and only two had declared that they were against it. Thorin told her later that these two were indeed Lords Boitu and Venrik, and that they would always have been their greatest opponents. Lord Boitu was the younger dwarf, with the dark eyes - though he was still nearing his 160th birthday, apparently. Lord Venrik had been silent for the entirety of the meeting, and she wouldn't have known he was there at all had he not decided to speak his opinion, being one of the last to do so. He was quiet and calm, with a demeanour that was the antithesis of aggressive, but Thorin told her that he was as sly and cunning as a fox, and would be the greater threat. Boitu was hard-headed and generally hot-tempered, but he was mostly just bark and no bite.

Venrik was loyal to the Durin line - he had proved that many times - but it was clear that loyalty came at a price. His daughter had been a possible suitor for Thorin since he was just a hundred, the girl being around forty years younger, and Thorin admitted that he might have considered marrying her once upon a time. She was beautiful and generally a kind woman, but she had a sinister dark side that she had shown to him once - one that had been born of her short temper, and which consequently destroyed all chance she ever had of becoming his wife. Neither she nor Lord Venrik knew that, so they continued to hope in vain.

Boitu's sister, Bergni, was every bit a proper dam, with a much calmer temperament than her brother. But she was the epitome of the term 'weak-willed'. She blindly did as her brother asked, no matter how uncomfortable it made her. Thorin pitied her for the situation she had been forced into, having worked out that she had no desire to be there, but she lacked the courage to break herself out of it. Upon being told this, Alana pitied her too, and mentally began making plans to meet and talk to this poor dwarrowdam.

"That was rather successful, I would say," Thorin noted, drawing her from her thoughts.

Alana glanced down at him and smiled. "I agree. I had no idea there were so many rumours floating around about me. Although I must say, my favourite is the one about me being some kind of enchantress. I had to work very hard not to laugh out loud at that one."

Thorin smirked up at her. "I almost believe it," he said off-handedly, and Alana gaped at him. His face broke into a grin. "Oh, do not look so surprised. Lord Findur was quite right when he said winning my heart was no small feat - many have attempted such a thing over the years, and failed. You achieved it without trying. If nothing else, you are enchanting to me."

Alana shook her head, smiling in faint amusement. "You are such a charmer," she grumbled.

Thorin laughed. "Only with you, atamanel. Though I'm glad to hear my efforts are not in vain."

Alana scoffed. "You could be the least charming person to have ever walked through Middle Earth and it wouldn't matter - I'd still love you. Believe me, your charm, though appreciated, gets you practically nowhere."

Chuckling again, Thorin tilted his head to the side. "Noted." He paused in the middle of the hallway, causing her to do the same, turning to him with a curious expression on her face. "Please don't worry yourself over Lord Boitu and Lord Venrik. Their opposition may delay things slightly, but I stand by my promise."

"Thorin, I know that," she said, smiling down at him. "I trust you, and I know you will keep your word. Believe me, those Lords only make me more determined to prove myself worthy of you."

Thorin shook his head. "You have nothing to prove, melhekhinhul."

Alana chuckled. "I appreciate the sentiment, my Lord, but I think you may be slightly biased in your opinion."

"That may be so, but that doesn't make it any less true." He smiled up at her, grasping her hands in his. "One day," he murmured, "you will learn to see yourself as I see you. Until then, I will spend every day reminding you, if that's what it takes." One of his hands moved to rest on her cheek, his eyes molten. "Gi melin."

Alana blinked, surprised by the whisper of elvish flowing from him lips, before she beamed down at him and slammed her lips down on his, murmuring her words of love against them. They parted every few seconds to draw breath, before their lips melded once more, and they became completely oblivious to the world around them.

The countdown to the day of their wedding had officially begun. And neither of them believed it could possibly come fast enough.