Chapter 34: Reckoning

Authors Note: Such a freaking fantastic response to last chapter! 14 reviews! *takes deep breath* A major thankyou to CrazyFanGirl18, Dalonega Noquisi, PurpleFairy11, luvgirl101, Whitwhit1893, mk72, Katie Loom, bloodyrose1294, Guest annie, MaxRideandPercyJackson4ever, Prost, KeepingThemAtBay, Anju R and Katherine Sparrow!

Anyway, I know I said I probably wasn't going to post until I'd so BOTFA so...

Yup, I still haven't seen it. Got dragged down south by my brother the exact day that I was going to go see it… *weeps* And I live in the middle of freaking nowhere so I can't just catch a bus or wander down to the cinema. So that's why I haven't updated. But hey, in recompense you guys get another long chapter! Woohoo!

annie: That would be so cool, but I seriously couldn't think of anything :( Thanks for the suggestion though!

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"What did you do?" Thorin barked, striding into the forge and looking every bit the king that he was. He paused for a moment when he realised that the master smith was nowhere in sight.

"Something foolish," came Argo's rumbling voice, thick with indistinguishable emotion. Thorin glanced around, following the sound of his voice, not allowing his eyes to widen when he spotted his old friend curled in a dark corner, situated between the wall of the cold forge and a stone workbench. Thorin took two hesitant steps toward Argo before stopping, torn between reaching out to his friend in need and berating him for his idiotic actions.

Oh how he felt torn! Torn between a king's need for justice, and a dwarf's desire to support his friend. Not for the first time in his life Thorin Oakenshield wished to be nothing more than an ordinary dwarf. Then he would have been able to simply knock some sense into the smith.

So torn, did Thorin feel, that he was unable to anything more than stand awkwardly and stare at the huddled mass that had once been a fierce and proud warrior, impossibly brave and strong with unwavering loyalty. This husk of a dwarf - for looking at him like that he scarcely even seemed to be Argo any more - was none of those things. And that terrified the king-in-exile for he had been such a wraith himself once.

"Argo," his friend's name slipped from his lips unbidden, the tone longing and commanding at the same time. For a brief moment he hated himself for the pain that he allowed to slip into the two syllables but then Thorin reminded himself that Argo was in no state to really notice at that point in time. Perhaps what the smith really needed was to hear - to see - the pain that others held inside.

"You should have seen her face," Argo managed to choke out. He rolled his head to the side so that his dark eyes bored into Thorin's. One could see where tears had trailed down his filthy cheeks and into his ragged and unkempt beard. "She was so angry. But there was pain too; she was hurting. And I did that. I did that."

"Her anger is merely a mask for the pain," Thorin told his friend gently, coming and kneeling before him. "You and I both know how that feels."

"Aye, but it was me who hurt her!" he exclaimed in frustration and self-loathing. "I was never supposed to hurt her! I was supposed to protect her and teach her like-"

"Like a good father," Thorin finished when Argo struggled to find the words.

"Aye," Argo said again, though this time it sounded more like a pained exhale. "I've been meaning to tell her for so long… I asked Ar- I asked my brother to give her a place in our family if she wished it. But it was always to be her choice. I wanted to tell her that I viewed her as my own; at the time I was almost certain that she felt the same… Now I will never know."

Argo rested his forehead against his folded arms, pressing them into the knees that were very nearly touching his chest. He looked broken, both in heart and spirit. Thorin wondered how long it would be until the tough old warrior's mind went too. Loss did strange things to a dwarf, and the more you lost the more you spiralled out of control. There was only so much pain that one could take at a time. Thorin knew; he had been to the brink. If Argo lost Khayl now, he shuddered to think what it would do to him.

"There is still time," Thorin pressed. "She is not lost to you yet."

"She always was," Argo replied in a resigned tone. The sound of it made a chill pass through Thorin's heart. "I treated her as my own, cared for her and taught her everything. In recompense she just continues to cling to the humans that raised her and taught her nothing of her own people!"

The last few words were a vehement cry of frustration, built over time and at last brought to a head. Thorin recoiled before the meaning of the words even hit his ears, but when it did he rocked back onto his feet, stunned.

"Khayl was raised by humans?" he managed to gasp out, air not coming to him. He felt light-headed as the implications hit him thick and fast at the very same time that comprehension blossomed in his mind.

It made sense now as to why she knew nothing of their culture and did not understand propriety or custom among their people. If he thought on it for a moment Thorin found that he was actually slightly relieved. He had thought for a while that perhaps she had been born to an outcast or was not altogether there.

The relief was short-lived though.

Khayl was to marry Fili, a prince. This meant that she would become a princess and, later, Queen of Durin's folk. Her ignorance of their culture could be an enormous pitfall and would no doubt raise speculation. And most were not as accepting as the dwarves of Ered Luin. Khayl's odd ways had not gone unnoticed among many dwarves within their small community, but she was protected by her reputation as a fighter and saviour of many lives, as well as her relationships with Aro, Argo and his own family. She would not be protected as such when all dwarven eyes looked to her for guidance. When she was expected to sit as a representative of their entire race.

Personally, Thorin had a peculiar feeling that Khayl hadn't even comprehended that fact that she would one day become queen. In Erebor, Mahal willing.

"I take it she's never mentioned it," Argo responded dryly.

"Indeed she has not," Thorin said tightly, his jaw clenching. He wondered what else he didn't know about the dwarrowdam and he wondered how much was intentionally kept a secret. His stomach clenched as he realised that he actually didn't really know anything about her, about her life before arriving in Ered Luin and he certainly knew nothing about her from the time before she met Argo. It was a startling realisation.

"I love the girl like my own, Thorin. Don't mistake me on that," Argo's voice was full of a kind of frustrated resignation. "But sometimes she just makes it so hard. How can I care so much about someone I don't know anything about?"

"I don't know Argo. There's just something odd about the lass," Thorin confided. "She's just different and I can't tell you why. But I will tell you this;"

Argo waited with furrowed brows as Thorin paused briefly for breath, thinking carefully over his words.

"You need to amend what happened with Khayl and fast. She is soon to become a part of my family, making me responsible for her, not you. So if you don't fix it now, you'll make it that much more difficult for the both of you."

Argo said nothing, the real implications of Thorin's words coming to rest atop his shoulders like thousand pound weights. When a dwarrowdam marries she falls under the care and protection of her husband's house. Thorin's house. Khayl would no longer live in Mila's home with rest of them and if she continued to work she would likely take up employ in the town, near her new home. The realisation was like a chill wind on a sweat stained body for Argo. Sharp and chilling. It was a cold, sharp blade that cut to the crux of the matter and brought with it startling clarity.

"I will. I'll make amends," Argo promised. If he didn't swallow his pride and wayward emotions now, he may never have the opportunity to do so again. With the departure date for the quest to Erebor constantly drawing nearer day by day, he couldn't be sure if the lass would survive the journey or if he would even see her again if they did manage to reclaim the mountain. Mila would not leave her husband's home to journey to the mountain and Argos could not leave his kin behind in the Blue Mountains now that he was the head of their family. Besides all of that, a journey of that length and scale would provide plenty of time for the emotional wounds inflicted to fester.

No, he had to fix things. And soon. It didn't matter how put out he was with her at the moment, they were kin now and the bad blood between them had to be eradicated.

"Thank you Thorin," Argo said, standing. The king followed suit and clasped arms with his old friend, though a quizzical look was upon his features.

"For what?" he asked and Argo smiled truly for the first time in a long time.

"For making this thick-headed old goat see sense," Argo stepped around the king and made his way to the door of the forge. Thorin scoffed, though he allowed himself a quick grin as soon as the smith's back was turned.

"I'm older than you are," he grumbled to himself before calling "Where are you going?"

"To keep my promise!" Argo replied over his shoulder, striding out of the forge and into the light of day, seeing clearly at last.

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Khayl left the Durin household earlier than any of the others, leaving with a silly grin on her face and the tingle of a parting kiss upon her lips. Only Thorin had left before her, saying that he had some business to attend to. He had displayed a rare show of public affection before departing, grabbing his eldest nephew in a rough embrace before the two head-hunted sharply, eyeing each other in the aftermath to see who was more dazed -Khayl had thought it to be Thorin, but then she could have been bias. He had turned then to Khayl and a slight quirk of his lips betrayed his amusement when she glared warningly at him. Then he had pressed their foreheads together gently before leaving a whiskery kiss in the same place upon her flesh. The moment he had left, Kíli, who had been restraining himself the whole while, pounced upon the new, semi-official couple, Ira and her other siblings joining in on the group hug that collapsed to the floor.

Khayl had never felt so loved in her entire life, neither her human or her dwarf one. And for the first time when she thought of going back to her old life she was filled with dread rather than impatience. As she walked the streets of the dwarf town she felt at perfectly at peace. Looking up at the mountains the dwarves mined from she felt safe. Smiling at the folk she passed she felt accepted and appreciated. She felt like she belonged.

Fili's ring felt heavy and obvious upon her finger, though she knew it was not so. It was not the weight of the metal that bore her hand down to her side, rather the weight of the promise behind it. The promise that she would stay, that she would be loyal, that she would love and protect and that she would be loved and protected in return. Before, leaving Middle Earth had always been an option, the obvious decision. Now it was utterly out of the question. One afternoon had utterly stripped her of that choice and she would be lying if she didn't admit that she wasn't sad to see it go.

The promise of a ring was a promise of a life, and a home. A life with Fili…

Dazedly, Khayl wandered into Mila's house, absently noticing the silence that hung in the air outside. She walked into the sitting room and dropped to the floor, sprawling face first on the thick fur rug in the middle of the floor. Grinning gaily to herself now that no one could see, Khayl rolled onto her back and smiled at the ceiling, a sense of bliss welling within her.

After several moments she began to feel quite warm and sat up, awkwardly pulling her coat from her shoulders. The winter months had been quite mild for Ered Luin that year, supposedly, but Khayl had still found herself tossing her coat over her shoulders each time she went out not doing it up but keeping it over her shoulders, her intolerance of cold showing though the weather was reasonably fair. She tossed it over the arm of the lounge and admired that way they daylight that filtered through the windows played on the colours in the fur. It was the one Kíli had given her what seemed like an age ago now… so much had happened since then.

Ares, the fete, Fili, the orcs killing people, being taken prisoner, escaping, Aro, Argo… it all still seemed surreal somehow, like something that she had been witness to. Like it was a … movie.

Her mind conjured up images of lives and happenings that she had never been witnessed to. Great battles that had never actually occurred. Khayl couldn't quite remember what a 'movie' was but it seemed to involve moving pictures that told a story… however that was possible.

She shook her head as she lay back down on the rug. Ordinarily she embraced these memory flashes, as frustrating as they could be, and tried to see more - to remember. But now… that life was gone. She couldn't go back now and there was no sense clinging to it. What good would it do her to hold onto what she could scarcely remember? Perhaps the faster she forgot it all the faster she could get on with well and truly immersing herself in her new life, her new family.

Khayl felt a stray tear sneak out of the corner of her eye and roll down the side of her temple and into her hair as she brought to mind the blurry, almost meaningless faces of those she knew to be her family. The ones who had birthed her and raised her, the ones whose blood she shared and of whom she knew she had once possessed thousands of memories. All of that was now gone and would ever come back. She had to let go. For good.

Khayl let out a shuddering breath and felt another tear slip away from her control. She struggled with all her might to bring those faces into clarity one last time but the only one she could even slightly achieve was her brother. His hair, darker than hers because it was shorter, his eyes a light hazel, his face a more angular cut than her own. She felt her brows drift together as she focused with all of the power of her mind and her heart. His broad shoulders and roughish smile, a crooked grin much like her own that was almost impossible to fake.

Try, try, try as she might, his name slipped her grasp.

In frustration, Khayl pounded the floor with her fists like a horrible little child, biting her lip to stop herself from yelling out loud at her own failure. The she took a steadying breath and let his face slip from her mind for the last time. She replaced it with the laughing faces of Kíli, Ira, Irisa and Fargo, her new siblings. She had always been the youngest; now it was her turn to look after them.

"Are you alright?" a concerned voice broke through her reverie. Khayl would have laughed at the choice of words if she hadn't been so acutely aware of the deep, grating voice that held a tone of confidence and reassurance that she had thought to never hear again.

"Fine," She bit back, sitting up with green eyes flashing and brusquely swiping a hand across the last remnants of her tears. Argo was hovering in the doorway, clearly ill at ease. With interest, Khayl noted that he had washed, changed into crisp, clean clothes and had combed and braided his hair and beard for the first time since Aro's funeral.

"What were you thinking about?" he asked, and she wondered if he really wanted to know. And just because she knew it would spite him, Khayl told the truth.

"My family," She didn't say which family, though in actual fact it had been all of them, but she knew he would take it in the worst possible way. He had always resented how closely she had held her old family to her heart. Well, not early on, but back then she didn't think he could care less about the waif he had been saddled with being raised by humans.

Argo, predictably, took it to mean that she was pining over her lost family. She could see it in his features, particularly as his face went red before he tightened his expression and his pallor went back to normal. He was trying hard to restrain himself, Khayl observed.

"Khayl," he began halting, before clearing his throat several times. She allowed herself to frown at him slightly. He seemed to take this as some strange sort of encouragement and steeled himself.

"I want to apologise for what I said earlier," Khayl felt her brows crawling up towards her hairline, no matter how hard she tried to restrain them. Argo shifted on his feet and the dwarrowdam almost smiled at how uncomfortable he was. "I was wrong. I had no right to blame you or Fili for what happened, just as I have no right to keep my blessing from you. He is your One, I see it like everyone else. If he would come to me to ask for your courtship I will give him my permission and my most sincere blessing."

This time Khayl did smile and Argo looked at her in confusion, though he looked rather relieved that she wasn't screaming at him. Khayl held up her hand and he caught the most fleeting glint of gold.

"I appreciate it Argo, I do. Thank you. But you're a little late."

"What do you mean?" he asked in confusion, the dots slowly beginning to line up in his head. "He didn't-?"

"He did." Khayl grinned at him and Argo shook his head in exasperation. "I just have to work out a courting gift and then you get to start thinking of Fili as your future son-in-law. Of a sort."

Argo's eyes widened in shock at the statement. "Son-in-law!? You mean-?"

Once again Khayl smiled in response to one of Argo's strangled, half-sentences, climbing to her feet, saying 'aye' for the first time in her life and embracing the dwarf who fitted fairly well into the mould of 'surrogate father.'

"You've been like a father to me for a quite a while now Argo. It just wasn't my place to say anything. I thought that I might be overstepping my bounds," Argo wrapped his arms firmly around her back and crushed her against his chest. "It's good to have you back."

"I'm sorry-" he began only to be silenced when Khayl drew back and slapped an open fist into his broad chest.

"Argo? Shut up. I'm sorry, you're sorry; that's really all there is to it," Khayl chastised him firmly. "I've decided that my old life is in the past now and that I need to be let it go."

"If you ever want to talk about it-" he started to say but was cut off by her wavering smile

"There's not really a lot to say anymore," Khayl told him truthfully. "But thanks."

The two dwarves grinned at one another, content to set their pain to one side and to forgive and forget.

"Argo?" Khayl broke the silence that seemed in danger of dragging on and on. He glanced at her curiously. Khayl put on her 'sarcastic face.' "Thanks ever so much for explaining the concept of a 'One' to me."

"Some things you just can't teach Khayl," he responded rather enigmatically. Khayl rolled her eyes.

"Sure you can't. What do think Mila and Dís were teaching me earlier?"

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Khayl repeatedly swallowed nervously and checked that the package under her arm was secure and well wrapped for about the tenth time in a few minutes. She wasn't even sure why she was nervous!

But nervous she was and the feeling continued to grow even as she stood the doorstep of Dis' home. Khayl shifted awkwardly before raising a hand and knocking on the door, a faint smile on her lips as she remembered the day she had pounced on it and burst inside the moment Kili swung it open.

This time though it was Fili who opened the door and she felt her heart sing in her chest at the mere sight of him. It had taken some time to get used to all the emotions that hurtled through her when she was near him, but gradually she was getting the hang of it.

"Hi," he said with a grin, opening the door and allowing her to step through before she said anything. He closed the door behind them and when he turned about she greeted him with a quick kiss to the lips. He moved to deepen it but she drew back quickly before either of them got even more distracted.

"I've got something for you," Khayl said before glancing down the hall. Ordinarily she would have been engulfed by Kíli or Dís or both by that point. Not that she was complaining but would be nice to know they weren't lingering around a corner listening to every word they said.

"They're out," Fili explained before long interestedly at the package under her arms. He took it as she offered it to him, smiling in thanks. "What is it?"

"That takes the fun out of opening it," Khayl grinned as she trailed after him to the sitting room, her anxiety dissipating. He sat on the lounge and she sunk down beside him, sitting so that their sides touched. Fili looked at her, considering her actions before grinning like a loon.

"This is your courting gift, isn't it?" he asked, a laugh escaping his lips.

"No," Khayl replied with a roll of her eyes. "I just enjoy throwing gifts at your feet on a daily basis."

She grinned at the blonde dwarf, her blonde dwarf, and he smiled before wrapping an arm around her waist and dragging her onto his lap, eliciting a sharp and rather embarrassing squeak from the dwarrowdam. She squirmed but he held fast and merely laughed at her feel struggles. Gifts exchanged, they were officially courting and no one could say a word about how they acted with each other, with the strict exception of not jumping the gun, so to speak.

"Are you going to open it or not?" Khayl teased and he tightened his grip on her with a roguish grin.

"My hands are full," he said, pinching her waist as though to prove his point. She bit back another squeak and slapped away the offending hand. "Open it for me?"

"After all the effort I went to and you don't even want to open your gift," she sighed with mock disappointment, only for her pointing lips to be grabbed again as he kissed her gently, his own lips curved Ito a smile against hers.

"I already have the greatest gift of them all," he murmured, burying his face in Khayl's hair as his cheeks pinked slightly. Khayl felt herself smile and blush slightly but busied herself with opening the package so that he couldn't see.

She pulled out one of the knives in his boots and deftly cut the string that tied it closed, unfolding the paper and unceremoniously shoving it on the floor. She held up the item inside for his inspection, smiling sheepishly as he took it from her and averting her eyes so that she couldn't see his reaction.

There was silence and a bark of breathless laughter. Khayl felt his fingers touch the far side of her jaw and he gradually turned her head about so that he could tenderly touch their foreheads together. They held the pose, closing their eyes and basking in the moment.

"Do you like it?" Khayl asked tentatively, opening her eyes and seeing pure and unadulterated emotion shining in Fili's eyes.

"It's perfect," he said with honesty resonating in his tone. Khayl grinned and they both looked down at the simple thing that had at last brought them together.

It was a belt. It was as wide as his hand with small, geometric plates that all linked together, allowing to be strong and supple. The leather underneath was made from pig skin; supple, durable and water resistant. The belt itself had innumerable loops and catches for all of things Fili might ever need to carry. The back of the belt had crossed knife sheaths because the dwarf prince possessed more knives than a cook ever used in his life. There were several pouches and rings so that he could carry a sword and sheath on each hip or throw his travelling scabbard over his shoulder. It was practical, durable and attractive.

In that instance, Khayl supposed, it was just like Fili.

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Author's note

Hey, guess what! Final chapter of this, the first arc. Yup, that's right 34 chapters later and we actually get to move on to the quest!

Whoot Whoot!

(Apologies for any errors; blame them on my first attempt at writing with my tablet)

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On that note, some test out my rusty knowledge because by deductions the Unexpected Party at Bilbo's was in mid April, around the fifteenth. That would make it mid spring at the time (in the Southern Hemisphere it would be autumn)

The company arrives in Rivendell in mid June making it a two and a half month journey. Just under two months to Beorns. They stay with Beorn for one whole day and leave midday the next day. four days to Mirkwood.

Autumn begins whist they are in Mirkwood. Bilbo spends over two weeks getting the dwarves out. Another two weeks are spent in Lake Town. Two days up the across the long lake to River Running in a boat.

That's the timeline I managed to slap together by flipping through the book. Let me know if I need any corrections or additions. (This was made in about ten minutes and may need some revision)

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Thank you all so much for bearing with me so far! Now I'm going to go back and revise all of the chapters and update them so that everything flows. Then I will continue with the story!

Have patience my lovelies! (You may get an update if you're all lovely and review! But I make no promises)

I hope you are all having a wonderful new year.

(On another note I have to get glasses soon. Perhaps my work will be of a better quality when I can actually see what I'm doing!)