A/N: Hello again! A bit late once more, and sorry for that, but I was busy yesterday planning my summer...! Train trip around Europe, it's gonna be awesome. Anywho, hope you like this chapter!

Big thanks to the following people for following/favouriting: iluvdarts and MeliaAlexander :)

Review Response(s):

CrystalVixen93: Thanks, and here ya go!

Faron Oakenshield: 'Soon' enough, yes. Still got a few chapters to go. ;)

'Do not go where the path may lead. Go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.' - Ralph Waldo Emerson

Chapter 21:

The next morning, as had been declared by the King, Lord Boitu was brought before the eyes of the kingdom to be executed. Alana had been genuinely shocked to see so many people turn up to witness his death, and had been even more horrified to learn that they were required by law to do so, unless they were below 60 - the age at which they were considered adults of dwarfkind. When Alana asked why they would force people to watch someone having their head cut off, Balin simply explained that it was for further security - it acted as a deterrent for those who might previously have considered committing the same crime. In her head, she admitted that it would have worked for her, but she still thought that forcing people to witness such a gruesome scene was perhaps a little extreme.

In order to avoid the chance of him being harmed or threatened by those who were fond of Lord Boitu, the executioner's face and hair were hidden away. Anything that could be used to put a name to him was covered. Alana knew who he was, of course, and so did Thorin. But they were the only two in the entire kingdom who knew of his identity (except, perhaps, his wife, if he had dared to tell her). Alana almost pitied him for being picked for this job, but he had stated calmly that it was his duty, and that the nature of the job would not make him turn down a request from the King himself. She had complimented him for his loyalty, and later convinced Thorin to give him a little more than his share of gold as a reward for that. She knew she couldn't make such exceptions for everyone, but she hoped that this would be the only occasion where she thought such things were necessary.

Dwalin had been chosen - much to his obvious delight - to be the one to disgrace the Lord. To the dwarven race, nothing held more value than their hair and beards. Even Alana felt a shudder run down her spine as Dwalin quickly and carelessly cut off the braids Boitu wore that marked him not only as a Lord, but also as a member of the Firebeard tribe. Next came his beard, being cut until his face was almost completely smooth. His hair was the last to go, the locks falling at the disgraced Lord's feet. Strangely, though he was not gagged, Boitu said nothing the whole time.

He had met Alana's eyes the moment he stepped foot in the room and glared heatedly at her. She had returned the glare for a few seconds, before a mask of aloofness swept over her, and she then ignored his probing gaze for the remainder of this... event. He was no longer of any consequence to her.

Beside her stood Lady Bergni. Since she felt little to no ill will towards the meek dwarrowdam, Alana had no qualms against allowing the woman to stand beside her, and even endeavoured to offer a supporting hand if the dam looked like she needed it. But there was no sign of such a thing being required - Bergni was silent and ashen in the face, but her eyes were hard, not sorrowful. Perhaps the sorrow would come later, but for now, Bergni did not mourn the loss of her brother.

When the axe fell, the vast majority of those present turned their heads reflexively. Alana forced herself to watch. It wasn't pleasant, by any means, but her accusations were what had put Lord Boitu in this position. She would not shy away from the consequences of her actions.

Even so, when the crowd began to disperse, Alana closed her eyes and bowed her head, murmuring an elven prayer under her breath.

"Hiro hon hîdh ab 'wanath."

May he find peace after death.

As expected, the week that followed was pure chaos. And yet, despite that, Alana loved every minute of it. She was being pulled left and right, back and forth, jumping between tailors and jewellers and blacksmiths, and yet with none of the pressures of decision-making. She quite liked this arrangement.

There were moments, however, when she thought they'd taken things a little too far.

When she was being fitted for her wedding dress, Alana had been forced to wear a blindfold over her eyes (as she had rather jokingly predicted), so that she couldn't see her dress. Despite the fact this particular visit was just for certain colours and fabrics to be picked, and her measurements to be taken, both Dís and the seamstress from Dale - a charming middle-aged woman called Lynda - had insisted that the reveal of the dress on her wedding day was to be a complete surprise. Which meant no sneak previews.

Still, that didn't mean she was devoid of things to do - she and Thorin were still in charge of the guest list, though due to the short-notice nature of their wedding, they had to be pragmatic about who they could and could not invite.

Lady Galadriel and Lord Elrond were both invited, though the Lady sent back word that she was unable to make it, as she had been absent from the Golden Wood too long now. Elrond and his family were happy to stay an extra week, and accepted graciously. Dain and his men were invited, of course, and they had replied back by saying - in more brusque terms - that it was stupid to believe for even a moment that they wouldn't be there.

The worst had been Thranduil. Thorin had been adamant that the elven King stay as far away from the kingdom as possible, especially since he had 'just managed to get rid of the bastard'. Alana glared at him for saying that, before arguing that trade and good relations with the elven kingdom were paramount for a successful and bountiful rule. Even Thror had bowed to this wisdom in his time, creating an amiable (if not tense) relationship with Thranduil that benefited both kingdoms. It took time to wear him down, but, in the end, Thorin agreed - somewhat reluctantly - to send an invitation to the Woodland Realm as well.

Everyone continued to keep a very close eye on Alana as the day of the wedding drew steadily closer, though they were thankfully not overbearing about it. They ensured she was eating enough, and Dwalin dragged her into the training ground at least once a day to make sure she could build back up any muscular strength she had lost. She was quite touched by their efforts, all things considered, and she enjoyed having the chance to spar with someone a little closer to her skill (that wasn't to say that she didn't enjoy training with Aragorn, but he still had a long way to go, and there wasn't much of a challenge in having him as an opponent).

As the days drew nearer and nearer to the big day, Alana began to grow nervous. She wasn't by any means regretting her choice, but she became quite suddenly aware that this marriage would be forever. It would be final. She would be tying herself over to Thorin, and his family, and his kingdom, and she could never go back and change her mind.

Her nerves all but dissipated when she had wandered into the royal quarters that very same evening, and had witnessed a cheerful dinner between the reunited company members (and all their families, so it was a big group). She saw Thorin sat there with a relaxed spine and a crooked grin on his face, which widened noticeably when he realised she had appeared. Dropping down beside him, Alana planted a quick but fervent kiss onto his lips, her previous concerns a distant memory.

With planning going on on either side - with Thorin still organising their day out, and Dís and the boys busy with the wedding preparations - Alana was left with little else to do but keep up her training. She had begun to help Dwalin in the training area, teaching the upcoming and eager warriors of the next generation. Makaylen was amongst that group and, so far, had proven herself to be one of the best. She had her faults, and these would never fail to be pointed out to her, but she had a very steep learning curve. Sometimes it would take as little as an hour to smooth out some of the wrinkles in her technique.

After her conversation with Dís, Alana also made a note to secretly watch Kili and Makaylen whenever they interacted. The two seemed to get on extraordinarily well, as Dís had mentioned, though Alana thought that the dwarrowdam was perhaps getting a little ahead of herself with the assumption that Makaylen was looking for something more than friendship with the brunette Prince.

Two days before the wedding, after Alana had been to test the size and shape of her now completed wedding dress (blindfolded again), she wandered into her room to find Thorin already there, sitting comfortably in one of the armchairs she had moved closer to the hearth. The fire was lit and burning away, letting out the occasional crackle and pop.

Thorin didn't seem to notice her come in, too lost in thought. As she drew nearer, Alana allowed her eyes to roam over his figure. As was often the case at this time of night, Thorin had discarded his thick, heavy coat and fancy clothing, leaving just a plain pair of breeches and a thin tunic. Alana was particularly fond of this look, not only because it meant he was comfortable enough around her to allow her to see him with so little on, but also because the gaping neckline of said tunic provided her with a generous view of his chest.

With a coy smile tugging at her lips, Alana paused behind the chair and placed her hands gently on his shoulders. Thorin jerked, surprised, before he tilted his head up and offered her a heart-melting smile. Alana moved onto her knees, wrapping her arms more firmly around his torso and then resting her chin on his shoulder so that they ended up cheek to cheek.

"Thîn vaer, meleth nín, (Good evening, my love,)" she murmured against his ear, pressing a whisper of a kiss to the skin beneath it. "I think you might have the wrong room."

Thorin chuckled, and Alana was delighted to feel the sensation spread from his body and into hers. It made it feel more genuine, somehow. He glanced over at her, his eyes warm and ablaze under the light from the fire. "I am so sorry you think so, my Lady," he replied lowly. "But I think you'll find I am exactly where I want to be."

Alana hummed, pressing her lips to his skin a second time, though this time on the side of his neck. Thorin shuddered almost imperceptibly, but Alana caught it. A smirk danced across her face, and could be seen even in her eyes. "And what is it that has brought you here tonight?"

With a small smile, Thorin unwound Alana's arms from around his shoulders, silently asking her to stand up. When she did, he was quick to pull her closer to him, tugging her hips down so that she settled comfortably in his lap. Alana leant her head against his shoulder, slowly breathing in the scent of his hair, while his arms wrapped themselves securely around her waist. Her hand came to rest on his torso, where there was a gap in his tunic, so her fingers could tangle and play with the hairs on his chest.

It was a few more seconds before Thorin answered her question, and Alana wondered idly whether her actions had caused him to forget for a moment that she'd even asked him anything at all. "Do you have any plans for the day before our wedding?" he asked her, a huskiness to his voice that hadn't been present before.

"No. Why?"

"Because that is when we are leaving the mountain for our day away from all this."

Alana beamed up at him, and he mirrored her expression - though with more restraint. "I didn't think they would allow us to leave so soon," she admitted.

"Nor I," he murmured, brushing his lips gently against the crown of her head. "But your mother and my sister were quite insistent that it be that specific day."

Chuckling, Alana nodded. "I'd imagine they want to kick us out of the mountain for a while, so they can set things up without us seeing. Seems like a bit of an extreme way to do it, but, I suppose, if it works..."

Humming in agreement, Thorin pressed a firm kiss to her forehead. "I'm not complaining - it means we don't have to wait weeks for our chance to relax."

"Blimey, Thorin Oakenshield is talking about relaxing! You must be tired."

Alana's teasing did not go without repercussions - with a cocked eyebrow, Thorin smirked smugly at her and then poked her sides with his fingers. Alana let out a high-pitched squeak, remembering with dread that he had discovered exactly how ticklish she was back in Laketown, and with that feeling starting to spread over her entire body, she slowly met Thorin's gaze. She had a second to mentally prepare herself, but it wasn't enough. Thorin's fingers dove back towards her sides, and Alana let out another squeak of a laugh as he began to mercilessly tickle her to within an inch of her life.

Alana laughed so hard that her stomach muscles began to ache, but even with her breathless pleading for him to stop, Thorin was relentless. And, just like last time, the only reason he finally gave in to her demands was because she had managed to wriggle herself into falling off the chair.

Releasing an exasperated sigh, Alana grumbled, "Amin delotha lle. (I hate you.)"

Thorin, without even a second of pause, replied with his usual, "No, you don't."

"If you keep this up, I might."

"No, you won't."

Alana stared at him for a moment with narrowed eyes, while he just smirked smugly in return. At length, she groaned. "Okay, fine!" Then she lifted an arm into the air, waving her hand in his vague direction. "Now help me get back up on the chair."

Thorin chuckled. "I'm not entirely convinced you need the help."

Alana pointed an accusing finger at him. "The only reason I am down here in the first place is because you decided to tickle me, mister. The least you could do is rectify it."

With a fond roll of his eyes, Thorin grasped hold of Alana's hand and hauled her back onto the chair with enough force to make her squeak. He caught her easily enough as she tumbled into him, wrapping his arm around her entire body again. Alana released a soft sigh and curled up against him, burying her face into the base of his neck.

"Thorin?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

Thorin smiled softly, though Alana didn't see it from her position in his lap. "I love you too, Alana."

"Mahal, woman! We are leaving for one day! You're acting as if we're moving to the other side of the world!"

"Kili, that is no way to talk to your mother!" Dís threw a tunic at him, which hit him square in the face.

Kili glared balefully at her. "You're going insane! What could we possibly need so much stuff for?!"

"In case of an emergency! You and your brother are magnets for trouble, and I don't want you going out there unprepared!"

"Amad, I really don't think we need a lecture on how to look after ourselves." Kili stormed forward and snatched his coat from his mother's hand. "And I don't need you to pack anything. We're going to be gone for a mere few hours. Not days. Not weeks. Not months. Hours!"

Dís huffed, planting her hands firmly on her hips. "Now, you listen here-"

Before the frustrated dam could continue that sentence, Alana - who had been standing in the doorway, unnoticed, for a good few minutes now - cleared her throat. Dís whirled around, looking for all intents and purposes ready to pop a blood vessel for being interrupted. She deflated somewhat when she saw Alana, who was looking simultaneously amused and sympathetic.

Alana moved from her position in the doorway and entered the room. "I hate to say it, but Kili's right, mellon nín. We are unlikely to come across any danger out there, and even if we do, we will be numerous enough to handle it with no trouble, I'm sure. You need to worry so."

Dís released a heavy exhale. "Perhaps you're right." She glanced at Kili and narrowed her eyes, before shoving a finger into his chest. "But that does not excuse your tone, gehyith."

Kili flushed beet red at the moniker, while Alana tried very hard to hide her snickers. "Amad, you haven't called me that since I was a dwarfling!"

"True, and yet, I think, since you are acting like one, it is an apt name for you now." Dís smirked at her son, who grumbled under his breath, chucked his coat on his bed, and then stomped out of the room. He refused to meet Alana's eyes on the way out.

The moment he was out of earshot, Alana's face split into a huge grin as she questioned, "Little dove?"

Dís chuckled, nodding. "Oh, yes. Kili was a rather... interesting shape when he was a baby. Like a dove, he was short and round, with a head a little too small for its body. His favourite noise before he learned how to speak was also a cooing noise, so... the name stuck. If you'll believe it, Thorin was the one to first suggest it, though he himself hasn't used it since Kili was about... seven years old, I think."

Grinning, Alana's eyes took on a fond, warm glimmer. "You wouldn't think Thorin to be the sort of dwarf to do that sort of thing."

"Oh, he's got a tough exterior - damn-near impenetrable! - but on the inside, he's as soft as a pillow after a hard day's work." Dís smirked. "And he would kill me to hear me say that."

"Perhaps not," a familiar voice said from behind them, and Alana smiled at him affectionately as Thorin also entered the room, "but he would be very tempted by the idea."

Dís just stuck her tongue out at him, shot Alana a wink, and then breezed past them and out of the doorway. Alana turned to Thorin. "Are you alright?"

Thorin nodded, smiling. "I merely came to see how you were doing. Dwalin said you got quite tired during training this morning."

Alana shrugged. "Probably because he dragged me out without checking to see if I'd had breakfast - which I hadn't, by the way. I was just hungry." She placed a peck on the creased between his brows. "I'm fine, arahervenn. Though I appreciate you checking in on me."

Returning her smile a second time, Thorin offered her his arm, and she happily slid her arm through his. "Are you ready for tomorrow?" he asked.

Alana shrugged. "There's not much to get ready, as I pointed out to Dís. I'll be able to grab everything in the morning."

Thorin nodded thoughtfully. "I suppose you are right. I just automatically think about things in such a way - preparation has always been a vital part of my life."

"I understand," Alana murmured, giving his arm a brief squeeze. "But for tomorrow, you don't need to think like that. Tomorrow is just for our enjoyment."

"And I am sure we will make the most of it," Thorin agreed with a smile.