Time continued in the stop-and-go motions that it typically did. At times I found myself wondering if it had truly been twenty, twenty-five, thirty years since the dragon came, and at others I marveled that I was not yet resting in my grave. Thorin and I became more run down as the years progressed – we had been young when we took on the responsibilities of the king and queen – and so it felt that we were aging much faster than we normally would. However, the age of one's body versus the age of the soul do not coincide, fortunately for me, and it was 37 years from when the dragon took our home that I became pregnant once again.

I was hesitant – the fact that I had conceived after so many years of trying initially made me believe that I would miscarry once more. When I went to see Oin, after he validated that I was pregnant, he told me that it was possible that my body had finally healed enough to carry a child once more.

"Should I devote myself to resting?" I asked him.

"Eh? Aye, you should," Oin was speaking louder than normal, and I had to thank him several times as I was leaving before he heard me properly.

…

It was nearly midnight when Thorin returned to our rooms from where he had been inspecting the new style of weapons the blacksmiths were preparing. He was perpetually weary – we had not slept more than a few hours every night for years – and the light from the fire threw the bagginess under his eyes into sharp relief. He sunk into his chair, rubbing his temple.

"Where were you today? I was hoping for your input during the hearing for the memorial plans for Azanulbizar."

"I was visiting Oin," I said.

"What for?"

I took his hands from his face, and Thorin looked up at me. "My darling – I am with child."

His hands tightened on mine. "Are you sure?" I nodded, unable to stop the spread of the smile across my face. Thorin's expression mirrored mine, and he began laughing aloud. "You had better not be teasing!" he shouted, leaping to his feet and pulling me to mine, picking me up and spinning around.

"I am not!" I giggled. "I would not dare tease of such a thing." I was set gently down – Thorin had apparently remembered the delicacy of pregnant women. I smoothed my skirts as my husband sat down again as well, jittery and excited. "Oin confirmed it," I said. "So it must be true."

Thorin leaned back in his chair, still smiling, and closed his eyes. Soon tears began rolling down his cheeks, and he was unable to contain himself. He buried his face in his hands once more. I moved over to sit on his lap, resting his head against my bosom.

"Are you happy?" I whispered.

"I have not been so happy in years," he replied. "I had given up hope."

"As had I," I said. "This is a most welcome surprise."

"You must give up your duties," Thorin said sternly. "We mustn't take any risks with this child," he rested his hand on my belly, which looked merely as if I had had a massive dinner. "Are you feeling ill yet?"

"No," I replied. "Although I expect to laid up soon, and for a very long time."

"I will miss you," Thorin said, kissing the nape of my neck. "I do not wish to miss this time with you."

"Fret not," I said lightly. "I will be available for pampering anytime you are free."

"I had a concern I wished to discuss with you," Thorin said, changing the subject abruptly.

"Hmmm," I murmured, burying my face on his shoulder.

"I have been considering that we move to Norgod."

I looked up, irritated. "Again? Truly? You promised that you would not do this."

"No," Thorin corrected. "I swore that I would not lead our people into desperate excursions. This is different."

"No – it is not! Must you insist that we uproot ourselves once more? You need to accept that our home was lost and that you cannot get it back! We have to make do with where we are! And frankly," I had stood and was now pacing angrily in front of my agitated husband. "This is a wonderful place to live – as was Dunland. There is no use in chasing dreams!"

"I do not chase after dreams!" Thorin barked, standing to tower over me. "I seek merely to secure the happiness and fate of our people!"

"And why doesn't Belegost fulfill those expectations?" I yelled back.

"Because I want the best for our people!"

"That is the exact lie that your grandfather fed the warriors before marching off to Moria! Learn from his mistakes! Do not do this," I pleaded.

"It is not a lie," Thorin growled. "It is a hope."

I lifted my chin. "And so you have succumbed to the pride that has been the downfall of your line since the dragon."

As I turned from him, I heard him sigh. "Aurvang, please. I did not wish to sour this night – especially now because of our child." He moved towards me and placed his hand on my belly.

"Very well," I snapped. There was no more fighting, but the silence as we prepared for bed was not a pleasant one.

…

Thorin's stuffiness did not evaporate over the coming months. He would not relent his desire to move once more, and when he arrived home in the evening, while I was bent over the chamber pot, he would tell me of his growing desire to take back Erebor.

"Your grandfather and father wanted that," I wheezed, tired and feeling horrible. "Look where it got them."

Thrain had not been heard of since he left. This was obviously a sore point with Thorin, who growled back, "I will be prepared. I will take every precaution I possibly can. I will not go alone!"

I grunted, not impressed.

"I need to reclaim our home!" he said passionately, kneeling by me and taking my hands. "I do not wish for our child to grow in the knowledge that our home was taken from us! I need to do this – for our family."

"I still think you are delusional," I said.

"And you do not understand why I need to do this! That foul worm took our daughter! I cannot let him live on our gold while we are refugees."

"So it is for the gold," I said in epiphany.

"No! It is for the legacy of our people."

I could not help rolling my eyes. Thorin was being completely unreasonable, and it would take more than mere doubts to convince him to stay with me and forget the blasted idea.