The rising of the sun the next morning had me opening my eyes to a sight that quickly had a hand clapped over my mouth so as not to giggle with joy. Bard lay beside me, stretched out on his back, an arm supporting his head as his chest rose and fell with deep, peaceful breaths. The blanket had inched its way down his body until it revealed the entirety of his chest, and his other arm was splayed out on the bed, though from the dull pressure that still remained at my lower back, I knew that I had spent the night being held.
I eased myself away from the bed and walked on my toes over to the door, then paused indulgently to cast an appraising eye over my husband to be. His mouth was slightly open, and with the absence of his usual half braid, his hair was spread over the pillow and his forehead. To wake up to such a view! My fingers itched to smooth it back, but the sheer delectability of his dishevelled state halted my hands, and I settled for leaning against the doorframe with a lick of my lips, the bareness of his chest distracting me from a single brown eye opening. Just as I leant forward on the balls of my feet to take another appreciative sniff of the scent of sea air and all around 'man' that seemed to cling to him, I froze when his other eye opened.
"I am not produce in a market. I thought you were the model of respectability, betrothed wife," Bard teased, his voice hoarse from sleep. I repeated the words in my mind, teasing them out slowly so I would always remember the first time he named me 'wife'.
"Even models of respectability have their weaknesses, betrothed husband," I shot back with a wink, thrilling to the word, and finally gave in to the urge to giggle, then turned on my heel and headed to my mother's room where I had moved my belongings into on my first evening back in Dorwinion.
After washing, I eased open the chest at the end of mother's bed and rifled through my old clothes, settling finally on an elbow length red blouse and long pleated grey skirt. The box perched on the bedside table produced my girlhood bracelets of silver, accumulated over the years with each visit to Rhûn. They were as wide as one of my fingers, and engraved with flowers. Childishly, I shook my hands, smiling at the familiar sound of the bracelets tinkling. Next came my hair, to be braided and tied as usual, and I slid Bard's silver comb of pomegranate flowers above the knot at the back of my neck. Once more I wished that Iohan had not taken Bard to task, and instead was accompanying me to the market instead, though knowing my uncle he would turn up anyway. He knew as well as I did that Bard's gift would be ready and waiting at the engraver's stall.
I left the house soon after and retrieved my cloak, now hanging dry after being blown in the crisp morning wind. Alvar was waiting on the steps of his home, though he tactfully chose to say nothing at my emerging from my home instead of his, and instead returned my morning salutations with a yawn. We pulled on our socks and light leather boots together, then stayed on the porch until Bard emerged in his usual dark trousers, white tunic and brown woollen vest.
At each new moon, the village would host a market. It was primarily made up of travelling traders that took the roads between Rhûn, Dorwinion and Dale, and the four week timeframe allowed many traders to frequent the market on their way to the larger cities. Three other villages further inland hosted the market on the other three weeks during the month, and any within a day's ride would come to see endless goods on offer. As befitting a village market, there was not just an array of womanly accessories - ribbons and the like - such as seemed to cover half of Dale's offerings, but also a wide variety of livestock; good, strong Eastern horses among them. It was the closest Bard would ever come to seeing the Eastlands for himself, for the tall, dark men that herded the horses into the village always brought a wagon full of Eastern sweets and snacks, and boxes of fabric and perfumes from the Southern lands that bordered Rhûn. Such items rarely reached Dale, as any woman with a dash of Eastern blood would snatch up any last remnant of the traditional oils and materials before they could be sent onwards towards the West, where, no doubt, the items would be far less prized.
We walked quietly, snacking on the bread I had bought the day before and jumping every now and again to pull an apple or orange from a tree. True to my uncle's words, when we reached the large oak tree at the halfway mark, I took a hold of Alvar's hand and dragged him around the trunk three times one way, then three times the other.
"Wish," I commanded him when we began to walk again, and laughed when he screwed his eyes shut and muttered under his breath.
"What did you wish for?" Bard asked curiously, glancing back at the tree.
"Now, see, it won't come true if I tell you," I replied slyly, though I linked our hands together with a sideways look at him from under my lashes, conveying wordlessly that I had been wishing for him. His eyes darkened and he smiled tenderly, while Alvar groaned good naturedly and quickened his pace.
We reached the market an hour later, having taken our time showing Bard over the lands, to find it already bustling and full of people. The stalls had been set up as usual, on a large grassy field just before the beginnings of the handful of stone houses with red tiled roofs that made up the village. Bard tucked my hand into the crook of his elbow and stepped easily into the tide of villagers, though I could not fail to notice Slecg, the Captain of his Guard, standing at least a head taller than most. The man nodded at Bard and soon enough we were unobtrusively guarded as he slowly walked behind us, flanked by more men behind him.
"You brought the entire Guard," I said dryly, staring back at the large, light brown haired man for a moment and blushing when he winked with an easy grin. The villagers parted for him, some turning in surprise to take in the large man in a mail shirt and thick leather vest, though I was willing to bet that almost all would have never seen Bard in person before and hence would not have deduced that we were guarded, and so I would hopefully not need to explain to the women who were already gawking at the handsome man who was walking with me that he was not, in fact, one of us at all.
"It was only good fortune that stopped them from setting up camp at your uncle's home," Bard said with a roll of his eyes. "Apparently a king cannot ride East at a moment's notice."
"I'm surprised they let you get this far at all," I admitted and Bard mumbled something under his breath, stopping to look at a table with an endless amount of silver bracelets in the style I was wearing.
"Hmm? What was that?"
"I said, they don't mind because I have an heir already," he answered awkwardly, his eyes trained on the silver. "D'you think Tilda would like one?"
I opened my mouth to reply, then blushed furiously when his words sunk in. I looked again at Slecg who was watching us with shining eyes, his shoulders shaking as if he had guessed exactly what Bard had just said. Bard cleared his throat and I turned to him again, to see a hopeful smile on his face.
"I think she would," I said finally, laughing when Bard blew out the breath he had been holding.
"I am sorry," he mumbled. "You and I haven't discussed…" Bard broke off with a grimace.
"It's all right." I shrugged and bent over the table. "But tell me one thing."
"Anything," he said honestly, our heads almost knocking as I turned to smile widely at him as we both examined the bracelets.
"Can Slecg hear us?"
Bard snorted and stood up straight, exchanging an amused look with his Captain which confirmed my suspicion that Slecg could either read lips, or he could indeed hear us. Ignoring their wordless communication, my fingers brushed over the silver until they settled on a set engraved with light blue swirling lines. Without a second thought, I raised my head to begin bargaining, and lost my tongue when I came face to face with Rustam, the trader that had escorted me to Dorwinion. He was watching us with a quiet, thoughtful look that changed to an amused smile when Bard turned back around and smiled in a friendly manner.
"My friend," Bard grinned. "It has been a long time."
"Aye, it has," Rustam answered with a smile and bent his head, acknowledging that he was conversing with a King.
The two men spoke for a short while, enough for me to understand that Rustam had been travelling along the road to Dale and back for almost as long as Dale's markets had been in existence, a mere few months after the death of the dragon. If Bard noticed that Rustam looked to me often, he did not mention it, though after we walked away with a red drawstring pouch filled with the bracelets, he made a point of resting a hand on the small of my back.
"Are there challengers, betrothed wife?" he said lowly into my ear, his breath tickling my neck as he chuckled.
"Oh, many," I said blandly, enjoying the way his hand daringly slid to hold onto my waist. The village women that passed us raised an eyebrow at me and pursed their lips, but the men clapped Bard on the shoulder – word had spread of how he had survived Iohan, and so I had no reservations about pausing to stand on my toes and whisper into his ear. "Sometimes I have to bat them away with a frypan."
"A frypan? My poor little fishwife," he returned, the hand at my waist growing warmer and heavier.
I danced away from his hold with a laugh, and grabbed his hand to catch up to Alvar, stopping every now and then to look at the wares on tables placed every few feet or so. There were people everywhere, and we weaved throughout them, often pausing to return a hailed greeting when someone recognised me. Without fail, Bard was greeted with a booming laugh by all of Iohan's friends, and they took to him immediately, until soon enough he was led away to a cluster of chairs at the side of the market and a tankard shoved into his hand. He looked back at me with an apologetic shrug but I waved him away with a laugh and continued to walk with Alvar, making a slow but steady way towards the far end of the market.
By the time we had reached the far end of the market, I had my arms full of gifts; the first few were paid by coins I had saved, but, embarrassingly, Slecg had followed with a small pouch thrown to him by Bard and the brooches, sweets, small clay works, hair clips, scented oils and ribbons for the children and friends in Dale were paid for with coins from the purse of Bard himself. Slecg stayed at a close distance as I selected each gift, though soon enough I bid him to walk with us, smiling awkwardly when he bowed and held his arm out to escort me.
"Best get used to it," he said with a grin. "That is, if Bard finally plucked up the courage to ask you?"
I spluttered in response, coughing over the little soft square of ground almond conserve that I had begun to eat moments before. "Plucked up the courage?"
"How now, fishwife," he said with a bellow of laughter, patting my hand when my cheeks coloured at the realisation that he did seem to have Elven ears. Or very large ones, at any rate.
"He's been harping on about it for months," Slecg confided, immediately handing over the pouch of coins as soon as I stopped and ran my hands over some Harad silk.
"Months?" I exclaimed with raised eyebrows, then decisively chose three different colours of silk: purple, blue and…
"Green?" Slecg put in with a waggle of his eyebrows, and I instantly dropped the material and childishly poked out my tongue, then selected a beautiful, shimmering gold instead.
"Much better," the Captain pronounced, and added the cloth bag of purchases to the ever growing pile in his arms.
"If you weren't being a perfectly good packhorse at this moment, Captain, I think I might shove you in the sea myself." My words were tempered with an exaggerated pursing of my lips. Slecg scrunched his mouth up.
"Does the fishwife not wish to know just how long the King's been mooning over her, then?"
I stopped in front of a stall with a wide hipped, smiling woman standing behind the table.
"Buy something from here, would you?" Slecg said loudly, winking at the black haired woman and in revenge, I emptied the entire pouch of coins onto the table and watched him wince as his arms were covered yet again in my packages of the woman's oils, dried flowers and, after a little thought, leather tags for Bain, engraved with the image of a horse and rider.
"Happy?" I asked gleefully, bursting into laughter when his knees buckled slightly, though he still managed to shoot a suggestive look to the woman behind the stall.
"Oh, very," he replied wolfishly, ignoring the roll of my eyes.
We strolled (or rather, I strolled, Alvar strode and Slecg stumbled) towards the end of the stalls, stopping in front of the small makeshift paddocks filled with livestock.
"I'm not holding onto a bloody chicken for you," Slecg muttered and immediately I paused in front of a box of little yellow chicks and then snorted with laughter when Slecg hailed Bard in relief.
"She's a worry, this woman of yours," he pronounced as soon as Bard caught up with us, a small linen bag looped over his arm. "Spent all of your money, she did."
Bard shrugged easily and reached for me. "No matter. All my riches for her smile, after all."
My cheeks coloured and I hastened to him, though I was quick to defend myself. "Only because your kind and honourable Captain wished me to spend it all purchasing favours at a stall run by the innkeeper's wife."
Slecg baulked and shook his head. "Warg's teeth - not that white haired man? He said he'd put a snake in my bed if I took one look at the pretty young thing he's got as a barmaid. How was I s'posed to know she was his daughter?"
Bard held a hand up with a snigger. "Steady now – you don't want me to tell all of this to Dagny, do you? Hilda's sister," he whispered by way of explanation in my ear and I clapped my hands.
"I've an idea," I announced, noticing Alvar leading a tall black stallion out of the corner of my eye, and placing my hands on my hips to stand wider to make sure he wasn't seen. "You-" I pointed at Slecg, who was grinning from ear to ear, "tell me how long Bard's been mooning over me or I'll tell Dagny."
Bard blanched white and swatted a hand at Slecg's trunk of an arm that came to rest over his shoulders.
"Now, now, fishwife," Slecg said peaceably, "Dagny'd serve my parts to Bain for target practice if she thought I was looking elsewhere," he began, tactfully ignoring the very unladylike hoot of laughter that shot out of my mouth, "but there's no woman, not even one as lovely as you, that compares to my lady of Laketown. And I would've told you about this lout here anyway!"
"Well, there's no need to now, is there?" Bard nodded his head firmly. "By royal decree," he added in an important voice, catching me around the waist and bending his head to speak as privately as he could manage with an Elven eared gutter mouth Captain at his side. "Are we about finished?"
"Not even started!" I crowed, then took his shoulders and turned him around, until he came face to face with a beaming Alvar and a stallion that taller than even my bear of an uncle. Sensing our surprise, the warhorse tossed his head and snorted, his eyes darting over the three of us. He nudged Alvar in the shoulder, almost sending him flying, and Slecg tensed at our side.
"Whassat?" the Captain managed finally, his eyes trained solely on the stallion.
"Ah," I said proudly and squeezed Bard's hand. "This is Arsta. He will be making the journey to Dale with us."
"Sauron's balls," Slecg breathed. "Why? He looks like he'll eat us in our sleep. Like a fecking oliphaunt."
"Have you seen an oliphaunt?" Alvar piped up curiously.
Slecg guffawed. "Lad, you think I haven't? They look just like that!"
I turned to look at the black stallion, his coat shining in the morning sun. He was still taking us in, though not once had he shifted from his tall, straight stance. He was almost completely black, except for one white sock. Utterly perfect.
"He's for Bain, isn't he," Bard said slowly and I nodded with a grin.
"He is! Isn't he just perfect?"
"Perfect is not the word that immediately comes to mind," Slecg muttered but Bard just shook his head with a dazed expression, then turned to face me fully. Slecg, recognising something in the bewildered face of his sovereign, swivelled until his back was to us, muttering something about oliphaunts and aphrodisiacs.
"You bought him?" Bard said plainly and I nodded, biting my lip to try and force back the catlike, beaming smile. "You bought an Eastern warhorse for my son?" he pressed, taking my arm. "You came all of this way, to buy a warg of a horse for my son to ride?"
"I did," I began firmly. "And he'll protect Bain more than any man or soldier c-" I started to say, though in the next second Bard's lips were crushed to mine and my breath was lost, swallowed up by his mouth moving ardently on mine, his tongue forcing its way into my mouth while his hands moulded me against his body.
Somewhere in the distance, the sound of whooping and whistling entered my ears, but it seemed all too far off as the warmth of him burned my eyelids, his scent overpowering that of the horses nearby, his hands pulling me against him so that I could feel every inch of his body-
"Anne!"
"Oho – you've done it now, bargeman!" Slecg grinned wickedly as we sprung guiltily apart at the sound of my uncle's booming voice carrying over the crowd.
"Damnation, Anne!" Iohan bellowed. "Damn-ruddy-nation!"
"Damnation? Goes quite well… Buggeration, shiteteration, wargeration, damnation," Slecg mumbled to himself, repeating the last oath over a few times to keep it in his memory for use later.
"What is bloody going on here?" My uncle glowered at us both, completely unfazed by the warhorse the size of a warg that had shifted on its feet, nudging Alvar's head until he was forced to give Arsta enough head to sidle over to us. Too late, Iohan turned with a scowl to the horse, catching a blow to the cheek as Arsta tossed his head indignantly.
"Ha!" I clapped again and cooed at the warhorse, then fished around in my pocket and offered Arsta an old carrot in reward. "See?" I nudged Bard. "He loves us already."
"Us?!" Iohan's hand twitched at his belt, as if he might just rip off the long piece of leather and whip into Bard's hide then and there.
"You-" Iohan pointed at Bard, who was scowling, "explain this whole thing! Why're you kissing my daughter in front of the whole ruddy village? Morgoth's mouldy arse, who do you think you are?"
"Oh," I hissed in exasperation, hoping to avoid another 'I'm the King of fecking Dale!' moment, and then slid out the comb from my hair. "He thinks he's my betrothed, uncle! See - silver!" I wagged it in front of his face, jerking my chin up as Iohan's eyes widened in surprise.
"Is that right?" He turned to Bard, who was now staring at the both of us, no doubt wondering if he could renegade on his proposal.
"Er, yes," my betrothed managed, and scratched his beard.
"'Er, yes'?!" Iohan quoted, unimpressed. "Are you or aren't you?"
Bard opened his mouth to speak, but my uncle held a hand up with a glower. "No, you're not!" he growled. "Where's your silver, bargeman?"
"My what?" Bard spread his hands in confusion.
"Anne!" Iohan hollered over his shoulder as he began to stride off towards the market, making a beeline for the engraver's stall. "Move your legs, girl!"
I stared at my uncle, who stopped and waited for me with his hands on his hips, then looked back at Bard. "Erm… just wait there a minute, would you?" I said meekly, blatantly ignoring how Slecg was doubled over with laughter, and smiled apologetically at Bard, who merely looked dazed. He nodded silently and shared a look with Arsta, man and horse bonding over the ridiculousness of Eastern women and their male guardians.
I scrambled after Iohan and finally managed to catch up with him a few stalls away from the engraver. "Uncle!" I huffed, out of breath. "Uncle!"
"Anne," he said finally, and stopped so suddenly that I ploughed into his back. "Sorry."
"For what?" I asked, holding my head at the discomfort of smacking into his shoulder blade.
"I should've told him. About the silver," Iohan supplied with a grimace. "I'm your guardian – your mam's not here, my brother's not here… I should've told him what I expected of him, but I didn't. And he's not so bad. Could be worse. You might be far older than most brides – oh, sorry again," he added when I narrowed my eyes and stomped my foot. "Anyway. Come on, let's get this over with."
Suddenly my throat felt thick and constricted with the knowledge that Iohan had finally, and verbally, supplied his approval of Bard. I had a fleeting thought that I wished that my mother and father were here to see this day, and yet I felt only peace.
"Uncle…" I laid a hand on his arm. "You know, I couldn't have asked for a better father. Not if I tried to create one myself."
Iohan's face was as hard as stone for a long moment, then it crumpled into an emotional grin. "Come on, now. Less nattering, more betrothing, hmm?"
He held out an arm and I went to him, letting him tuck me against his side. "And if that bargeman ever hurts you, I'll chop him up and serve him to that new pet warg of yours." I swatted him away but chortled all the same, shyly ducking my head as we approached the engraver and a small crowd began to gather. Despite Iohan's comment about my age, I was still a somewhat young, unmarried woman and somewhat young, unmarried women only approached an engraver's stall for one thing in the East. Women soon stood behind me, clapping and singing, and out of nowhere flowers were soon being woven into my braids, tiny dried flowers of purple that, from the familiar golden skin of the girls carrying them, came from Rhûn. I blushed and tried to hide my face, but the crowd grew ever larger. Shyness prevented me from turning to greet them, the women that had seen me birthed, but the roar of the crowd that erupted when the blue silk pouch of engraved coins was placed in my hand by the grinning engraver could not be ignored, and I turned with a grimace and bobbed an awkward curtsy, then clung onto Iohan's arm.
"This is why I wanted you to come to the market," I grumbled with a pointed jerk of my finger towards the crowd that would follow us all the way to Bard.
Iohan let out a loud laugh and clapped my shoulder. "I knew you'd try to listen to us last night, azizam. And I knew that you'd want to avoid all of this, but you shouldn't. It's what your mother would have wanted."
I mumbled a few unintelligible sounds and tried to plaster a smile on my features, though my lips were soon quivering and I gave up, nerves taking over when Bard spotted us returning. Slecg took in the crowd and my uncle's usual severe demeanour, and began to stand in front of Bard, though thankfully he waved Slecg off with a confused smile.
"What's all this?" Bard asked in surprise. "Have you got flowers in your hair?"
"Erm…" I began, then coughed. Iohan rolled his eyes beside me and took the little pouch of silk, then, loud enough for the crowd to hear, began to address Bard.
"Bard of Dale!" Iohan boomed. "Will you accept these coins, given to you by my daughter?"
Comprehension dawned on his face, and his mouth split into a shy grin. He reached for my hand, though Iohan swatted it away with a "not yet!" and Bard cleared his throat and gave a loud: "Aye."
Iohan then took the pouch and placed it into Bard's hand, pausing for a moment to slide out my hair comb again and display it to the crowd, and the men winced in unison when the women began to 'ooh' and 'aah' over the 'very Third Age' style of silver that Bard had chosen. Next, Iohan held up both of our hands, then placed Bard's on top of mine, and covered them with his own larger grasp. With a bellowing voice, he announced that we were now to be trothplighted, and with a sly wink to Bard, he declared that the new betrothed husband of his daughter would foot the cost for three barrels of ale to celebrate.
"Is that also a tradition?" Bard asked into my ear when he finally stood behind me and put his arms around my waist while we watched the men roll in the new barrels and hand out tankards, despite the morning hour.
"Not at all," I said with a grin, then tilted my head back until I could see him looking down at me. "Is it all right? Agreeable?"
"Being betrothed to you?" he confirmed, bending down to smell the flowers in my hair after I nodded. "I can't help but think that there can't be a man within three hundred leagues of us that has more good fortune than I."
"Only three hundred leagues?" I teased, turning to let him hold me to his chest.
"More," he answered easily with a kiss to my hair. "And what of you, my Eastern woman – my fishwife? Is this all right? Agreeable?"
"Quite agreeable," I said dreamily, though I soon laughed when he tilted my face towards him to continue what we had begun before we were so abruptly interrupted.
The road back to Dale seemed far longer than it had, even though we were making such good time that no doubt we would arrive within four days instead of five. While Bard's guard and Bard himself were in good spirits, spending much of the day singing drinking songs and tossing fruit around to each other, I spent most of the first day snivelling.
"Are you sure you want to come back?" Bard asked gingerly on the second dawn, when we were saddling the horses from our stop at an inn in readiness for another day on the road.
"Aye," I sniffed. "I do, I do."
"But you miss them?"
"Aye," I answered glumly, turning in to his embrace to bury my face in his chest.
The parting with Iohan and Alvar had been harder than any – perhaps because I knew that I would not return, not for some years. After all, it was no longer my decision alone; Iohan knew it, too, and between clasps of Bard's arm in farewell, he demanded that we return sooner, rather than later. The dawn that we left was nothing short of beautiful – a cool wind blew the sea air around us, and the sun rose quickly, its heat countering the breeze. I could smell the permeating scent of the orchard and herb garden, and loaded my saddlebags with pomegranates and sprigs of mint, tearfully promising to Iohan and Alvar that we would meet again soon. There was the unspoken agreement that since we were now betrothed, we would meet next at my wedding, a word that was still taking some getting used to, but neither Bard nor I had any idea when that may be.
"Why don't you make the journey to Dale?" Bard asked politely. "We have many guest quarters, you'll be welcomed well."
Iohan rolled his eyes. "Enough of that, bargeman. You're as good as a son to me now, and we both know your home's no bigger than mine. But we might come. One day, anyway."
Not even the sight of twelve mounted men was enough to convince Iohan that Bard was, in fact, who he said he was, and the first day of riding was spent with Slecg conjuring up various scenarios upon which Iohan's realisation would finally come about. If I hadn't been crying, I would have wailed with laughter when bets were made and coins promised, but as it was I was far too sullen to enjoy the good cheer.
Arsta was the only reprieve on that first day – he was a cantankerous horse, and suffered none of the Guard to ride him, though I managed to bribe him with an apple and jump up, holding on for dear life when he bucked once.
"Gods!" Slecg shook his head. "You really think Bain will be able to handle him?"
"Of course!" I shot back. "He's a better rider than you, after all."
The laughter of Bard's guard rang out through the woods, and Slecg shook his head. "Can't we leave this one back with her bear of an uncle?"
Bard turned from where he had been riding at the front of our small formation and grinned. "Sorry, Slecg," he called, "I've only just found her, she's not going anywhere."
The days passed quickly once my heart settled down, and soon enough we were only a few short hours away from Dale. The land had morphed from the rolling, vineyard covered hills of Dorwinion, back to the flat, green fields of the farmlands that surrounded the city. They were covered in spring wheat, and now and then we were hailed by farmers acknowledging their returning king. I tried not to take notice when Bard sat up straighter in the saddle, though I did make a face when he spurred his horse forwards so he was riding at the head of the group, and away from me. He shot me an apologetic smile and I shrugged in response, knowing that our return to Dale would mark the end of our carefree days of riding, where I was free to nestle into his side at the inns on the way, or even in Dorwinion where I had slept beside him each night.
"Not to worry lass," Slecg said slyly from his place beside me. "Soon enough you'll be locked in his chambers and only let out when your belly is round and full of more than just that wine you love so much."
My face flushed scarlet. "Slecg!"
Bard turned around at my exclamation of surprise, one handsome eyebrow raised, but Slecg waved him off and he looked back towards the mountain looming ever closer.
"What?" the Captain said innocently, one hand held up. "You know what they say – only buy a heifer in calf!"
"For Valar's sake, Slecg!"
"What?" he said again. "He's my own man, lovely Anne, I know him better than anyone."
"No, he's not," I hurled back with a smirk. "He's very much mine."
"Ah, there's the fishwife," Slecg drawled, and I huffed in response.
"She's always under the surface if you prod too much. Don't you dare say it!" I said sternly, wagging a finger at the Captain's mouth that opened in no doubt yet another vulgar comment. "Enough of you. I'd sew your mouth up if you were my husband."
"Oh, no you wouldn't," he grinned wolfishly. "Too much talent to put to wa-"
"SLECG!" Bard roared from the front of the line, and I threw my head back and cried with laughter, wiping my eyes on my sleeve.
With relief, our small group soon looked on Dale, perched at the top of the mountain, the golden roofs glistening in the sun. Bard could not hide his smile when we saw three small figures waiting at the top of the mountain, waving madly, though too far away for their words to be discernable in the warm spring winds. We approached the great gates at a leisurely pace now, the guards laughing and joking together, and Bard grinning so charmingly that I was half of a mind to demand a wedding the very next day.
"Happy now?" My betrothed asked, and I smiled.
"Aye," I said shyly, ducking my head with a blush when he held out a hand and squeezed my fingers. Our small moment was cut short, however, for before we had even approached the gates, a group of dwarves rounded the corner near the walls and hailed the King of Dale.
"Mighty eager, ain't he," Slecg said from beside me when we made out the figure of a younger, red haired dwarf striding purposefully towards us with a folded letter tucked under his arm.
"Weren't you eager to marry your sweetheart?" I countered.
"Me? Oho, I did it at knifepoint. Couldn't hide her belly from her Da, and I was the culprit," the Captain said with a booming laugh, and I shook my head, dazed.
"You men of Laketown are something else," I managed finally, and dismounted along with the rest of the Guard when the dwarf reached us.
"Hail, King Bard of Dale," the dwarf said clearly and bowed low from the waist, then turned to me and held his arm out and bowed again, the way I had seen younger dwarves bow to the Lady Dís. I shifted uncomfortably on my feet, and stepped back instinctively, though Bard's low chuckle in my ear and hand at my back kept me rooted to the spot.
"Gimli, isn't it?" Bard said politely and the red haired dwarf nodded with a grin half disguised by his beard. It was at that point that I realised that I would never make a very good royal wife, for I gave a loud "Oh!" in surprise.
"Gimli!" I said his name very, very slowly, and the dwarf shot me a wink. "I am glad to finally make your acquaintance."
"Aye, and I yours, lady Anne," Gimli said cheerfully. "My apologies for being so out of sorts when we last should have met."
"Nothing to it now, is there?" I said with a pointed look at the letter, and Gimli shook his head with a joyful smile, before he bowed again and extended the letter towards Bard, who took it dubiously.
"A request for an audience, King Bard," Gimli explained. "From the Crown Prince and King of Erebor."
"Ah, of course," Bard said dryly. "And when do they propose this audience to be held?"
"At your earliest convenience, of course, King Bard," Gimli said immediately, the courtly politeness making Bard snort with laughter.
"Aye, aye, all right, then," Bard nodded, long resigned to the idea, for I had heard him going back and forth about the inevitable meeting with Slecg during our ride to Dale.
"In the morning, shall we say?" Gimli confirmed, and beamed when Bard nodded again. Remembering himself, Bard bowed his head shortly to the young dwarf, and turned on his heel to walk up the hill.
"I beg your pardon, master Gimli," I said under my breath as I walked past, "but you haven't been waiting here all this time, have you?"
"For a week? Mahal's beard, no." Gimli shuddered. "Only since the morning."
I looked up at the sun, noted that we were already well into the afternoon, and snorted with unsurprised laughter. "Job well done, then," I congratulated him and grinned when he kissed my knuckles in a kind farewell.
When Bard called my name, I curtsied quickly and hurried to walk with him. I led Edelind and Arsta's reins were tethered to hers, and the horses tossed their heads at my impatience to be beside my betrothed, though to my delight Bard only gestured for me again.
"Sounds interesting," I said, taking care to create a very innocent tone to my voice.
"I can see through you now, betrothed wife," Bard said with a smirk and let his hand fall so he held onto my waist. "You wish to attend tomorrow morning?"
"Oh," I cast my head down demurely, grinning at the ground. "Only if my betrothed husband wishes."
Bard looked to the skies, as if marvelling at the nature of women, then fixed me with a knowing smile. "Your place is by my side," he said gently, and squeezed my waist, bending to catch my mouth that had opened in surprise. His hand brushed my cheek, the touch carrying a shock of heat, and when he released my mouth I leaned against the warm column of his neck.
Only then did I remember what I wished to ask him when I had taken note of the small company of dwarves.
"Bard? Why were the dwarves dressed for battle if they were only coming from Erebor to Dale?"
Bard's face darkened and he rubbed his forehead. "We shall discuss it tomorrow at the meeting, another reason why you should be there. But for this night, I should like to be with my family," he concluded with a kiss to my forehead. "I believe we have gifts to distribute, do we not?"
I tilted my head with a smile and nodded, outwardly happy though inwardly worried at his seriousness regarding the armoured dwarves. Though, if he wished to spend the evening in joy, then I could not reproach him for it.
"Ready?" Bard asked and I looked up at the gates, and at his arm that was now politely held out to guide me formally inside the city. The guards spread out around us, and two occupied the space behind our horses. There would be no turning back after this moment – the moment that I walked into Dale with its King by my side, guarded by his guards, escorted on his arm. I swallowed nervously, searched my soul for courage and placed my hand on his arm.
.
.
.
A/N
"All my riches for her smile" – a Jeff Buckley lyric.
I'm not sure if any Aussies are reading this, but I based Anne's outfit on the one worn by Sal in 'The Secret River'. I can only find one photo in google, though, and not the best, but for international readers - feel free to search for that and you'll see one pic among many in the results.
Kaia – thank you!
VirgCoup – oh, thank you. Me too. Though it is becoming a problem as I have begun writing another Bard/OC story for when this finishes, but I'm so attached to this pairing that it will take me a while to get my head into it another.
Eryndil – none of their own making, anyway. We're on the home stretch now. And thank you! I agree re the canonical points. I don't often see (perhaps I never have?) that point about Bard's coronation.
IntotheMoon – my intention was accomplished, then!
ColorGuardianoftheGalaxy – he is, isn't he. Sigh.
XtaticBlueSoul – Isn't he just! The first two paragraphs are for you, then ;)
Minna – thank you! Mine, too.
RedStalkingDeath – just to hear that you enjoyed it is always enough!