"What," Thorin said. The flat tone echoed from the gold and the stone.
"Fíli and I are married," Morwinyon said, though she did not think Fíli had been unclear. "I am Morwinyon."
"What," Thorin said again, though this time the tone was less flat.
"Thorin," Bofur began.
Thorin rounded on him. "I suppose if I cannot depend on you to make it to a boat on time I cannot depend on you to watch my nephew, but I thought Oin, at least, would know his duties!"
"You can't blame Bofur or Oin, Thorin. They have no choice in who I marry." Fíli clutched her hand hard, setting himself as if for an attack.
"Your people have been very kind," Morwinyon said. She stepped forward so she was slightly ahead of Fíli. She did not like that he looked nervous, and aside from that she refused to be left out of the conversation. If she let it happen now it would continue to happen; she did not think she could abide being ignored again. "I am glad to know them, and pleased to make your acquaintance, Your Majesty."
She bowed, just a little. Legolas only ever bowed to their father on the most formal of occasions, and Morwinyon had never had occasion to, so it was a little awkward. When she straightened, Thorin was glaring at her directly.
"You have no need to voice platitudes, elf," he said. "You have no need to voice anything in my halls."
Morwinyon blinked. She had never in her life been told to shut up in nearly so many words. She had not chosen to speak to people often, but when she had they had always listened.
The dwarves ho had accompanied her shifted slightly. When she glanced back at them they had their eyes on their feet, even Kíli. Fíli's mouth had set in a thin line, but he squeezed her hand once, reassuring.
"She has the right to speak, Uncle," her husband said, soft and a little hesitant but clear enough.
Morwinyon wanted to snap that she had every right – she had never cared for her royal privilege before, but she found herself resenting its absence now, when it was being ignored.
"Does she?" Thorin retorted.
Kíli jumped in before anyone else could. "They are married, Uncle. Doesn't your niece have the right to speak in your halls?"
Thorin snarled something in Khuzdul. Morwinyon did not know what it was exactly, but she had the feeling it was unpleasant. The silence that followed was so absolute Morwinyon thought she could hear distant clinks, as if gold piles shifted.
Kíli looked shocked to be spoken to that way by his uncle, and Thorin looked no less shocked to have spoken that way to his nephew.
Kíli had been friendly to her, and he was important to Tauriel. Morwinyon reached out hesitantly with her free hand to place it gently on his shoulder, trying to look concerned when he met her eyes. She must have succeeded because he reached up to pat her hand with his own.
"Just so," she said, turning back to Thorin, whose eyes had followed her hand when it went to Kíli's shoulder. Thorin's mouth was set the same way Fíli's was. "And as your niece, it can be agreed that I have some stake in the fate of-"
"You have no stake," Thorin spat. "You have no say, and no right. I cannot separate you from my nephew, but I refuse your standing, and whatever elvish wiles you used-"
"Wiles?" she demanded, stung out of attempted politeness. "What wiles-"
"Be silent."
If she had not been holding on to Fíli and Kíli, she might have leaped down and hit him. Maybe she could hit him tomorrow, she thought savagely, but for now she seethed.
"You insult my wife, Uncle," Fíli said.
"You married an elf, Nephew," Thorin retorted. "Get used to it."
"The elf is right here," Morwinyon said through gritted teeth, but Thorin ignored her.
"Get her out of my sight."
Morwinyon might have stayed and argued at him until he was forced to acknowledge her, however bad an idea that might have been, but Fíli and Kíli dragged her back into the hall. Bilbo followed them.
"You see?" Bilbo asked.
"How dare he," Morwinyon hissed. "I am a princess of Mirkwood, and I will not be treated as if-"
"Let's not give him that bit of information at the moment," Bofur said. Morwinyon looked back at him. He had followed them, and now looked nervously back himself, as if worried Thorin had heard them.
"I'll talk to him later," Kíli said.
Fíli wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her chest. "I'm sorry."
"Why would you need to apologize?" Morwinyon demanded, returning the embrace and lowering her head so she could bury her face in his hair. His head came up to slightly below her collarbone so it was a bit of an awkward stretch, but she did not care. She was also abruptly less angry – Fíli smelled sweaty, but so did she, and the smell was oddly comforting.
"Thorin isn't that bad," Fíli said. "Really. I don't know why…"
Bilbo, when Fíli trailed off, said, "He's been like this since we got here."
"He's not himself," a deeper voice said. Morwinyon looked up to see another dwarf looking at her and Fíli. His arms were crossed over his chest, displaying impressive muscles and making various bits of weaponry more obvious. "He doesn't like elves at the best of times – nor do I – but I've never seen him treat the lads like that."
Morwinyon tightened her arms around Fíli and glared at the speaker. She remembered him vaguely from Mirkwood; one of the dwarves who had looked up when she had seen them cross the bridge. He had been in the dungeon with the others, but she had not caught his name.
The briefest of smiles flickered in his eyes, but his stern expression stayed. "I'm Dwalin," he said. "You'd be the princess."
"Of Erebor," Morwinyon agreed sweetly.
Kíli barked a laugh, covering his mouth when Dwalin shot a look at him.
"She is," Fíli said, turning so he stood in front of her. She grabbed his hand and refused to let go.
"I'm not arguing, lad," Dwalin replied.
"Oh."
"This is Morwinyon," Kíli piped up. "She's hardly stuck up at all."
"Hardly at all?" Morwinyon repeated incredulously before she saw Kíli's smirk. "You – I am not-"
"Don't tease her too much, Kíli," Bofur advised. "She did blind a dragon."
"Oh sure, blind one dragon and suddenly you're too good for teasing, I see how it is."
"Kíli," Fíli sighed, but Morwinyon finally chuckled.
"No, I do not mind. I am only not used to it."
Kíli moved beside her, linking elbows. He was the same height as his brother, or nearly, so it was less difficult than it might have been even with Dwalin, who was slightly shorter. "You'll have to get used to it, I'm afraid. You're officially my elder sister and it is the job of younger brothers to tease."
"Is it?" Morwinyon asked as he towed her and Fíli down the hallway.
"Oh, definitely," Kíli said blithely.
If Morwinyon had been asked to predict what the inside of Erebor looked like, she would have said they must look like her father's halls. She would have been wrong.
Thranduil's halls were underground, with walls of dirt to go along with walls of stone, roots twined everywhere and everything clean and dimly glowing. The halls of Erebor were dark stone entirely, with no cheerful candlelight or polished roots for relief. The carvings would have been pretty she was sure, in better light and with less dust and mold. She could walk the halls comfortably, which was a relief, even if things like chairs and tables were scaled small.
"You have no idea where you are going," she accused Kíli after the third turn.
"I really don't," he agreed. "But look, I've kept turning left. Eventually we should hit the entry hall again."
"Why the entry hall?" Fíli asked.
"It is the only place I know how to find that doesn't currently contain Thorin. We'll drop off Morwinyon and go back and chat with our uncle."
"I don't want to drop off Morwinyon," Fíli protested.
"Morwinyon does not like not being appraised of plans," Morwinyon said, "nor people discussing her as if she is not here."
Kíli winced. "Sorry?"
Morwinyon shook her head. She was not angry with Kíli, after all. "It is a good plan, I suppose, even if I want to hit your uncle."
"That makes it a better plan," Kíli pointed out.
When they reached the entry, she kissed Fíli in parting and waited until the brothers were out of sight around a bend in the tunnel before starting off the opposite way. She refused to be cowed by Thorin Oakenshield, and, after all, Fíli did deserve something better than a leather tie.
