They drank until the innkeeper threw them out. When they afterwards demanded to be let into another pub loudly and Kái became violent, someone called a patrol. The sergeant knew them both of course and they were brought home. Kái was lucky. He fell to the feet of Balin who leniently helped him into bed. Fredrin was less fortunate. He had almost reached his room when he ran into his father.
At first the king was more astonished than angry.
"Are you drunk?", he asked puzzled.
"Yes", his son answered defiantly.
He staggered and had to steady himself at the wall. But he held his head high and looked at his father challengingly.
This strange, rebellious behaviour annoyed the king.
"Fredrin! What do you think you are doing?", Thorin snapped and furrowed his brow.
"Shall I be ashamed of my demeanour? That's what you're saying?", the prince mumbled contemptuously.
"Yes, you should! Especially for your rude tone towards me!", Thorin hissed, feeling his pulse quicken.
"You want to teach me what is right and wrong? You? Of all?", Fredrin yelled at him now.
They stared at each other in silence, both infuriated.
"You and aunt Dís... Tell me that it's not true what they all say, father! Did you really disgrace Durin's line, our kin… my family?", Fredrin suddenly asked full of desperation.
Thorin grew pale, suddenly unable to hold his son's gaze. He turned aside.
With a pain-filled howl Fredrin rushed into his room, slamming the door shut behind him and leaving his father standing alone in the hallway. Thorin's first impulse was to go and follow him but he heard the key being turned from the inside.
He moaned, knocked softly and said through the closed door:
"Fredrin… We will talk about it tomorrow."
Fredrin did not appear for breakfast the next day and did not answer at Brit's plea either. But when the family got ready to go to the mourning ceremony that was to be held for Dwin at the temple, he stepped out of his room as if nothing had happened. He offered Tul his arm, and she, surprised at her brother's gallant gesture, joined him with a smile. Grudgingly the king watched his son and the prince withstood his angry glare without turning a hair.
In the temple Fredrin led Tul to her seat in the royal loge but did not sit down next to her. Instead he went down again without even so much as a second glance at his father. The king was about to hold him back, but Alwa put her hand on his arm and shook her head.
Fredrin sat down quietly at the end of the bench on which Ema's family was sitting. When Ema noticed the young dwarf, she beckoned him and everyone moved up so the prince could sit between her and Kái, like he had always done at their home. Dwalin lifted his head briefly and glanced at him and Fredrin jumped to his feet and bowed deeply to show his sympathy. The prince hardly recognized Ema's father. Grief-stricken, grey and as petrified, the warrior sat there. He gave Fredrin a nod and then stared again at the floor in front of him. He did not really seem to notice what was happening around him. Ema took Fredrin's hand and rested her head trustfully on his shoulder, exhausted from the days and nights waking at her mother's remains. She had not been so close to him for a long time and the prince wished the ceremony would never end. Kái looked at his friend and his sister favourably. They fit so very well together he thought. Why the hell did she have to leave and devote her life to Mahal?
On the bench to their left Bard and Dís sat with their family. Fredrin had always liked his aunt and her husband. Their house had been like home to him also. Now he looked at his aunt and tried to picture her. In bed. With his father. But he was unable to.
The priest told the story of Dwin's life now and Fredrin turned his attention back to the ceremony. He knew, of course, the tale of how Dwin and Dwalin had met. It was one of his favourite stories. How often had they played that as children. Ema as Dwin, he himself as Dwalin and Kái, very credible as a whole horde of orcs. Too bad only that he could hardly ever really compete with Kái without Ema's energetic help.
"Do you remember how we always played that?", he whispered to Ema.
She nodded, smiling and with tears in her eyes.
"Yes. I always hung myself on Kái's arm so he wouldn't get you", she whispered back, looking up at him.
Fredrin's heart ached as if it was about to burst as he looked into her bright green eyes. And Ema, too, felt so deeply connected to the prince all of a sudden, that it almost frightened her.
Thorin and Dwalin met each other the first time since the rockfall at the formal banquet that followed the service. Surrounded by the companions the encounter with his king seemed to free Dwalin finally from his torpor. Thorin expressed his deep condolence and Dwalin replied for the first time in days more than "Yes" or "No."
Ema saw her father and the king talking together and said to Fredrin, relieved:
"I am so glad your dad's all right so far so he could come today. That is important for Pa. Look."
And Fredrin watched his father and the dwarves around him. Surely everyone of those present knew about the rumours and yet there was not one who spoke to the king without respect. And he saw his father and his mother standing together there. So close and so loving in dealing with each other. Never had he experienced them differently. His mother must have known it, must have seen it, too. And yet she had tied the knot with this dwarf, who moreover had been a complete stranger to her.
That evening Fredrin himself sought out his father and the two talked to each other for a long time.
The young dwarf had always had high demands on himself in order to do justice to the king's example. And now he had to realize that his father was not free of fault. He tried to understand his father's conduct but he could not.
This had all taken place long before he was born and it was long over now. He still loved his father, but his disappointment ran deep. And he felt like he had been forced to grow up entirely overnight.
Two days before Dwin's entombment Dwalin sat motionless and with a numb gaze in his family's crypt, like he had during all the past days. Kái was glad he had something else to do working on the coffin. And Ema could no longer bear to sit down there in the cold next to her father. Balin had tried several times to talk his brother into coming back upstairs. But in vain.
Now Dwalin heard soft steps approaching the door and he hoped no one would come to talk to him. But the heavy door opened and Alwa came in. Without a word or a greeting she simply sat down next to him and pulled her bare feet up on the bench. So they sat there for while until Dwalin broke the silence.
"Why didn't you see that coming?", he asked and his voice was hoarse, as if he had not spoken in days.
"I did see it. But the pictures came to me just an instant before it happened. It was too late to warn anyone. I do not know why. I am very sorry", she said softly.
Dwalin sighed.
"You know… Dwin always thought our meeting there in the mountains was providence. She was sure Mahal had something in mind with us. Or with her", he muttered and looked at her questioningly.
Alwa nodded thoughtfully.
"Yes, she told me, too", she said.
"I must think about that all the time now. What was it? What do you think", he asked the seeress softly.
"What do you think?", she asked back.
"Well. I always thought, without Dwin, Thorin would have chosen that other gal. This Utt. And not you. And then we wouldn't have Fredrin", he said.
Alwa took a moment to reflect on that.
"From how I feel about it that could be right. But it may also have been about Ema. That she is born and finds her way to serve in the temple. But perhaps we are both wrong and it will be about Kái's children. Or about you. Dwin has also changed you", Alwa said.
"But why does Mahal take her away from me now? I can't see why! She did everything just right, damn it!", he rumbled, hiding his face in his big hands.
"I do not know Mahal's ways, Dwalin. But I remember something else Dwin told me once: She said that all odds were against her surviving that orc attack back than. She has fought through three terrible years down there in captivity and she was given more than twenty happy years by your side. She found the one she loved, she achieved her mastership and gave birth to two wonderful children. Those twenty-two years were a present to both of you, I think", Alwa said urgently.
"I want her back", Dwalin groaned, "I can't go on without her."
"You can. And you have to. Because Fredrin will need you. I see that you want to leave, but when I call for you, you will come back and be there for your prince", she said gently but firmly.
Dwalin did not answer, but shook his head weakly.
Alwa rose and said:
"I am supposed to tell you something."
"From Thorin?", Dwalin asked tiredly.
"No. From Dwin", came the answer.
Dwalin's head jerked up in surprise and he stared at the queen.
"She wants you to put the tools you gave her into her coffin. Kái shall not hang his heart on them. He deserves his own, she says."
And without any further word the queen walked away.
Kái had worked on his mother's coffin with his mother's tools and he did not like to part with them. Only reluctantly he complied with her wish and laid the leather roll with the fine equipment besides the iron case in the stone coffin. They also bedded the tiny coffin with the stillborn child next to Dwin and then closed the heavy lid. The picture on it showed Dwin in master work-gear with her necklace and the simple everyday hair-do she had always worn. Just like everyone knew her. Dwin's brother had masterfully worked out her features and Kái created the runes that framed her figure and told of her life. Dwalin had chosen a beautiful pale green stone for his wife's last resting place and he had also paid the coffins and ceremonies for Tombur and Helle. Because he knew Dwin would have wanted that. The two had no relatives in Erebor and were laid to rest in the guild's tomb hall.
Two days later Kái and his uncle returned to the Iron Mountains and Fredrin soon missed his best friend painfully again.
Ema was still there. She had postponed her departure to the Grey Mountains for the time being to be with her father. For Fredrin it was a time between hope and fear and he wished he could have spend more time with her. But his father had not yet fully recovered and the prince was busy to fill in for him.
One evening he sought Ema in vain at the temple and she was not home either. After pondering a moment he went down to the great source. He had a master-key of his own by now but the double door that led to the basin was unlocked. He entered and was sure now to be on the right track. The familiar sound of the gushing water reached his ears. He went down through the damp, warm air and found Ema sitting on the bench, staring at the water. She saw him coming and seemed glad for his company.
"Did Balin open up for you or how did you get in?", he asked
"With Pa's key", she answered with a faint smile.
He sat down beside her.
"I was hoping you'd come", she said after a while, looking at him intensely.
And something in her gaze drew the prince's attention.
She raised her hand slowly, placed it on his cheek and stroked his short, shining black beard with the two silver beads left and right his mouth.
"Ema", he whispered and leant into her touch.
Her fingertips ran over his lips and he did not speak any more. She bend over to him and he felt first her breath and then her lips on his. Delicate like a butterfly's wing. She kissed him again. Infinitely gentle.
Fredrin sat there motionless and with his eyes closed. His heart was flooded with bubbling happiness. How often had he longed for this. How often dreamt of it!
He returned her kisses with a racing heart now, finally pulling her close and embracing her a little awkwardly. Her soft hair in his fingers, the white skin of her neck under his lips and her intoxicating smell of the temple's sandalwood fires and her fresh sweat in the heat of the hall almost made him dizzy. The initial uncertainty of the two adolescents slowly yielded. Trusting and curious, inexperienced and still so very passionate, they began to kiss and to caress the other one.
They knew each other all their life, but suddenly everything was new and exciting.
It was finally her who began to open the buttons on his vest and shirt. He looked at her almost frightened with big eyes and hesitated briefly. But then, with trembling hands, he undid the ribbons of her dress. They freed each other of their clothes and stood there at last naked. Fredrin glanced at Ema's dainty, almost childlike figure and she looked at the prince's lanky frame, with his broad chest and strong arms and legs. She spread out his cloak on the warm floor next to the basin, knelt on it and, taking his hand, pulled him down gently. It could not be overlooked how much his body desired her. Blushing right up to his ears he knelt beside her.
"I have never...", he began shyly.
"Me neither", she replied just as insecure.
She took his hand and placed it on the girlish-dainty curve of her breast. Through the roar of the water, she saw more than she heard him gasp. She then reached out for him and moved closer to him. Skin to skin. The warmth of the floor and the stone basin beside them and the heat inside them took their breath away. Wet and shiny steam and sweat was on their skin. With hands, lips and tongue and with all their senses they explored the other one, devoting themselves completely to each other. Their wheezing, laughter and moaning, their whisper and also many a cry mingled with the indifferent murmur of the water.
And when he finally came to lie between her legs, craving to be let in, she was so ready for him that it neither hurt nor bled. They spent half the night together, intoxicated by giving and taking. One time tenderly, then again insatiably and full of vehemence, until at last both fell asleep arm in arm, fully content and exhausted.
When Fredrin awoke, he was alone. At first he was surprised and a little disappointed, but then thought that she must have returned home so that no one was worried about her. He stretched his muscles gleefully and kept lying for a while in the warmth of the hall, thinking back to last night with a smile on his face.
He could only guess what time it was and slowly got dressed, so that the early shift would not find him here all naked.
Happy and fulfilled he went up the stairs then and found a small bag on one of the top steps. Wondering he picked it up and looked inside.
Caramel sweets.
All happiness inside him shrank together to an icy lump. He knew, she was gone.
Fredrin ran upstairs, hoping to still catch up with her somewhere and ran into Ori on his way.
"Where is Ema?", he cried desperately.
"She left for the Grey Mountains early this morning with a group of merchants. Well before sunrise. We were all wondering, that you hadn't been there. But she said you'd said good-bye last night", he replied puzzled and then looked pitifully at the prince who was obviously struggling hard for his composure.
"She didn't tell you?", the librarian asked softly.
Fredrin did not answer, but stumbled away.
But Ori noticed the prince's dishevelled hair, the wet, crumpled clothes and the stained coat. And he kept his own counsel.
The next day, Dwalin quit his service and left the mountain in silence. Fredrin caught up with him in the stables just in time, on his father's hint.
Without much thinking about it, Fredrin embraced the warrior.
"Not you too!", he groaned.
"Can't bear it any longer. No more pitiful looks and not one damn night here without her", Dwalin grumbled.
"Where are you going?", the prince asked.
"No idea. The Shire first maybe", Dwalin replied, shrugging.
Then he straightened the little luggage he had and muttered:
"I would have liked to see you and Ema together. But I can't change her decision."
He gave Fredrin a comforting pat on the shoulder and led his pony outside.
Thorin and the companions stood outside and saw him off with few words. Dwalin mounted and rode away.
He was already half-way to Dale when something forced him to look back. High on the mountain slope, he saw a small, white figure in the distance.
Alwa.
And her words penetrated back into his mind with might.
"Yes! Yes!", he groaned angrily, "Until you call me."