A/N: Here we go again, now with a bit of Dale and more of Erebor. Mess tends to happen simultaneously in these parts of Middle-earth, it seems. Enjoy and review if you like it!
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It was the fourth day since Sigrid and the Rohirrim arrived and also the fourth day of loud Rohirrim feasting. Tilda had left the feasting hall to walk in the gardens, tired of the loud talking and clattering of mugs of the guests. All right, she knew all free peoples should unite against orcs and goblins and stuff, but did the Rohirim have to be noisy like dwarves? Her head ached, and she asked her leave. Her head was just stopping from throbbing when she noticed she was close to her father's studio, and its window showed light inside. Curious as a cat, she got close to know what was happening.
"Did you see your sister?"
Bard asked Bain, after a warm clap of hands on his shoulder as a greeting.
"I just left her and the baby. He looks like Tilda when she was tiny, only with lighter hair."
The bowman smiled at the description of his grandson, Sigwine.
"That he is, Bain! But I was asking about Tilda herself. I've kept the news from her too long, now. Albeit it is a happy occasion, she must know about her marriage at least a fortnight before it happens."
"Only a fortnight? I can't believe you didn't tell her yet, Da! She should have time to prepare, you know."
Bard dismissed his worry with a gesture.
"Everything is prepared, Bain. Her new home will lack nothing, be it here or on her fiancé's land. I mustn't mention how rich he is, of course."
Bain rolled his eyes.
"It is not about this, Da; Tilda should have time to prepare herself, her heart and mind, for such a step. It is not like going for a picnic, it is going to live the rest of her life with someone she barely knows!"
Bard pursed his lips and frowned, while taking a bottle of wine and a pair of goblets.
"Aye, I know. But I wished to wait until he reached this land, and it didn't happen until this morning. Actually, I wasn't sure he would make it."
Bain agreed, knowing how dangerous the mountain passes could be. Then something occurred to him.
"How old is he by now? It's been years since I've seen him last time."
"Eighty-eight, for all I know."
The young man gave half a smile at the number. You could never know with dwarves. Fíli was older than Kíli by five years, yet one could mistake him for someone Bain's own age.
"Most men are dead or widowers by the age he's taking his first wife. What if Tilda doesn't agree to this marriage? You know it can happen."
"I don't think so. I'm sure she will be surprised, but Tilda is a smart lassie. She'll see it is the wisest choice."
Said smart lassie fled from the garden as silently as she could, considering her urge to cry, so she was unable to hear when her father and brother lifted their cups and toasted her upcoming wedding, and lost the information that could change all her actions from then on.
"To Kíli and Tilda!"
"To Tilda and Kíli!"
It would be several days until she knew the name of her husband-to-be.
-xxx-
Meanwhile, in Erebor…
The brothers beheld the uncovered crown with awe. Fíli suspected it was coming, Thorin mentioned he was about to give Kíli a solid sign of his authority over the Blue Mountains but he hadn't been allowed to see it before, so the surprise was real. He couldn't believe so a fair craftmanship could also show so much strength, and for a moment he almost envied his brother.
Kíli, on his part, was speechless. The piece of art Thorin named Wolf Crown was made of some sort of steel, an unusual choice for a crown, but in this case it fit. The stylized shape of a wolf's head could be noticed in the grooves, strong fangs, piercing look, watchful ears, and paws that would come down to its wearer's cheeks like the claws of the raven did in the traditional crown of Erebor. The metal had a bluish sheen, polished enough to be used as a mirror, weren't it curved, with indentations that now detailed the wolf's design and then revealed the traditional knots of Durin's line. The lack of gold, unimaginable in something of dwarven make with such a meaning, was more than compensated by the wisps of mithril that painted it with a richness of detail that no gold filigree would achieve. It shone like starlight.
"I always thought it is a cold light, remote and far away."
Kili could hear his own words uttered in the first night of his captivity in Thranduil's dungeons. But the voice that answered him that night sounded so real in his ears that Kíli almost looked around in the hope of seeing her one more time.
"It is memory, precious and pure. Like your promise."
It had been the first time their hands touched without the strain of captive and capturer on them. He would never forget it. It was a memory precious and pure like the light of the stars, too.
She would have liked it, or at least acknowledge its beauty for what it was. And it had a pure beauty, like that of the stars.
"It is beautiful…"
Kíli's hand reached for the crown before his brain commanded it; he was not the only one.
"Mithril cast on blue steel…" Fíli's dreamy voice passed beside Kíli, and reached out his hand too. "Strength and beauty shown in the head of a wolf, the most loyal of all beasts of prey." He turned his eyes to Kíli, worried. "The wolf leader doesn't hesitate to sacrifice himself for the safety and wellbeing of the pack. This sounds too much like you, little brother. This crown is meant for none but you, I swear."
Kíli diverged his eyes from the new crown only to stop at Fíli's back, where he knew an ugly scar and lots of pain kept the memory of the Battle of the Five Armies alive in his brother's life as in his.
"None in this studio can brag about being less willing to sacrifice for our folk, big brother. You and Uncle are aware of your duties only too well for me, or anyone who cares about you, to sleep well when you're out on patrol or whatever."
Fíli dismissed Kíli's praise with a smiling shake of his head and Thorin eyed him softly.
"To do less would be in my blood, Kíli?"
A smile of agreement and understanding crossed the space between them.
"No, Uncle. Nor would it be in mine."
The affectionate hug and touching of foreheads was broken by Thorin, who held Kíli's arms and looked piercingly into the youngster's eyes.
"That is the crown of a king. The dwelling of the Long Beards in the Blue Mountains has grown and prospered in the last ten years more than it did in fifty. I expect you to know why."
"Because Erebor was retaken, and this allowed us to trade in better terms with our neighbours." Kíli frowned. "The bettering in the general economy made people more willing to grow their businesses and their families. The burst in births demanded new services and more products, affecting the economy positively, because the families having more children already had the resources for it, unlike it uses to happen in human settlements. A sound economy allows to keep a better guard, and so our patrols are able to protect both the settlement and the surrounding area from raids of any kind, lessening losses and…"
"Shh… Kíli, I just made a rhetoric question." Thorin shortened the endless answer. Kíli looked down at his toes, as if he were a dwarfling that had done something wrong and waited for a scolding. "I know you know exactly why everything is as it is in the Blue Mountains. And not because your mother told me so." If Kíli were still a child, Thorin would have cupped his face to make the lad to look up again. As it was, a deep sigh was all it took. "The Blue Mountains' dwellings are ready to be independent from Erebor. They only need a king. I count on you."
Kíli couldn't help but to cover his mouth with a hand. It was too much, it was…
"But… But Fíli… Erebor and the Blue Mountains… All Longbeards… It cannot be separated!"
"And it won't." Assured Thorin.
"Now I'm understanding even less."
"History of other peoples should have the same attention you give to economics, lad."
"It's been done before… by Men…" Murmured Fíli when he got the idea.
"And not far from our home in the Blue Mountains, by the way." Completed Thorin.
"Of course!" Kíli finally understood. "Like the realms of Arnor close to us and Gondor in the south. Though far apart, and ruled by two kings, they worked together as one wide realm!"
"And their first kings when the ruling was divided…"
"Were two brothers!"
"Actually, Isildur and his brother Anarion ruled together but Isildur was counted as High King of Arnor and Gondor." Clarified Thorin, a smile in his eyes for having his heirs quite literate in foreign affairs. "Like the King of Erebor is king over all the Seven Clans, and will also be over the King of the Blue Mountains."
"But it will be different with us." Kíli granted, with a smile.
"Of course it will, your imp. Because we're brothers."
"And because you're both Longbeards, heirs of Durin. Never forget this." Advised Thorin. "I never left Dáin forget it, by the way."
"Nah, you and Dáin are only cousins."
"Don't underestimate a cousin, Fíli. Cousins are the brothers Mahal gives you at a safe distance so one doesn't kill the other whilst growing up."
Fíli and Kíli looked at each other, grinning like fools. Thorin planned everything to be perfect.
"You both have done everything together since Kíli was able to crawl. I remember Balin saying you were twins separated by five years, and I must agree with him. You grew up together, learnt things together, pestered me together… almost died in battle together… now it's time to rule together, to be crowned together. What do you say, Kíli son of Dís? Do you accept my offer?"
Kíli blinked hard and his voice almost trembled.
"This is the most unexpected gift I ever imagined, Uncle, but aye, I accept it. With you and Fíli and Amad to support me, I believe I'll be able to do it, Mahal allow it and Durin guide me!"
Thorin held Kíli's shoulder affectionately, then put his card on the table.
"So, then, it is settled. The day of Fíli's wedding will be the day of his coronation, and the day of your coronation too, and of your wedding."