Surprise! Rumors of my giving up on this story have been GREATLY exaggerated.

Yes, I know it has been almost an entire year since my last real update. I can only do as I have done before and ask your forgiveness and forbearance. Some may think me unlikely ever to finish, but they're wrong. It isn't about life just getting in the way, which is certainly true enough, but about the fact that those who think me unlikely to finish clearly do not truly understand how adversely some things, like a family member's dangerous illness or one's own mental and physical health (which I have suffered through in recent years, to the point that I had four jobs and many months of unemployment), can and do affect an artist's ability to be creative. To do the things that we truly enjoy and want to do. Believe me, if I could have written more in the last year, as much as I or you could want, the story might well be finished by now. But it is not, and if you are still here, if you are willing to keep reading no matter how sporadically my updates appear in your email, you have my unending gratitude.

But enough of that, there's a new chapter to read! I hope you enjoy it.


81. Tête-à-Tête with a Master


Fíli rose and held his hand out to Melindë.

"Come," he told her. "We are leaving."

"Oh, don't go!" cried Rejna as they started toward the door, through which Glorfindel and Ranárë now slipped without a word. Dwalin was helping Larkspur to her feet, as she held Dwalar in her arms; then along with Balin, they, too, headed for the door.

"What is going on? Why is everyone leaving?" said Rejna.

"They are leaving, my dear, because you are acting like a child instead of a grown dam," said her father.

Ragin stood slowly, disappointment etched in his features. "I am ashamed of you, daughter. I do not know where this wretched attitude of yours comes from, but I pray to Mahal that he will banish it from you, and the sooner the better."

As he made for the door, Rejna felt the first stirrings of shame and embarrassment, and her eyes dropped to her hands, where they rested atop her belly. "I suppose you will leave me as well," she said to Thorin.

"Solitary reflection might do you some good," he said softly. Then he moved around the table and settled in the chair her father had just vacated. "What is wrong with you? For the life of me, I cannot imagine what has brought about so material a change as we have seen these last few days. You are not the calm and collected general, nor the kind and amiable princess, not the dutiful daughter nor the loving wife. You have been snappish and rude and insulting, demanding and arrogant and superior. And the reason everyone who loves and cares for you has departed your company is because they can no longer tolerate being in your presence."

"Dís does not love or care for me," Rejna mumbled.

"You have given her little reason to," Thorin countered. "On first sight of you, my sister watched you throw a plate at my head. You were petulant in your demand that Glorfindel be allowed to heal you that you would then be able to walk about on your own, instead of allowing me to tend you as was my duty. And when we have discussed the matter of bringing Hagen to heel, the promise that my sister—who is still in recovery from a beating that almost killed her—could devise a plan of perfection has done little to satisfy you. Mahal's balls, Rejna, you're a general! You know perfectly well that it takes time to plan the perfect battle strategy. We don't want to leave any room for that piece of rukhs kakhf to slither out of the noose we mean to put around his neck. I have told you, Dwalin and Balin have told you—her sons have told you—that when Dís promises perfection, she delivers. Why has our word not been enough for you?"

Tears slipped from her eyes as she leaned forward, bracing her elbows on the table to hold her head in her hands. "I don't know. I swear to you, Thorin, I do not know what has come over me. Jealousy and impatience and childishness… These are all remnants of my girlhood I thought I had long done away with. I have not behaved or felt so wretchedly in decades! It all started when I conceived our son, and I cannot seem to make it stop."

"You think being pregnant has brought this about?" he asked. "Is there nothing that Irma can do to alleviate these feelings so that you are—"

"Tolerable?" Rejna quipped, sitting back again as she sniffled. "I do not know. I suppose I ought to speak with her about it. I pray there is something she can do, that I will then be myself again so my family and friends will be able to withstand even a moment in my presence."

Thorin stood and came around the table again. When he was by her side, he knelt down on one knee, then raised one hand to cup her cheek and laid the other gently on top of the mound in which was nestled their son. "We will figure it out, amrâlimê. Mahal will guide us to the answers, that we may see you and our child well and safe."

"I've a great deal of apologizing to do, haven't I?"

He smirked. "There will be much humble pie consumed in the next few days, yes."

She sighed. "I will begin today, but not now. They must all be given time away from me, and I find I am suddenly exhausted. I should like to take a rest for a few hours."

Her husband held out his hand, and she took it. When Rejna had stood, Thorin kissed her softly, and said not a word as he led her to their bedchamber. After helping settle her in, he moved around the large bed and climbed in beside her, spooning himself to her back and resting one hand over top of their son.

"Go to sleep," he whispered into her ear.

"Have you not a meeting with Durc and Eirika this morning?" Rejna asked.

She felt him nod. "Aye. But I am their Prince, and they will wait for as long as they must for my attendance; I will stay with you until you slumber."

It warmed her heart to know that though he was surely as disappointed in her as the others, Thorin had not abandoned her as they had done. Deep down, Rejna understood why the others had left, and so found that she was not bitter. She just hoped fervently that Irma would have some knowledge that would aid her in curbing these wretched mood swings so that she did not damage all of her most precious relationships beyond repair.

When she awoke a few hours later, Rejna discovered she was alone. But the disappointment did not last long, as a fresh rose stood in a thin vase on her bedside table. Thorin had put a rose in that crystal bud vase every day he had been forced by duty to leave her before she woke. She sat up and lifted the vase, bringing the sweetly scented flower to her nose. Rejna smiled, thinking of the love which had led her fierce husband to leave it for her.

After taking care of her personal needs, she left the bedchamber to find Bríet tidying up the sitting room. Her new lady's maid paused in her work and greeted her, then asked if she desired anything.

"In fact, I do," the princess replied. "Go to the Healer's Hall—if Irma is not busy with patients, I would have her come to me."

Bríet's expression grew worried. "Are you ill, Princess? Should I send one of the guards for His Highness?"

"No, Bríet, that will not be necessary. I merely require my healer's advice, not her services."

Relief washed over the younger dam's face. The girl had been ecstatic to have been asked to serve as lady's maid to the future queen, and had revealed in her interview that she had long been an admirer of her style and beauty, as well as her confident manner. It humbled her even more to think of what a disappointment she would have been to this young female had she been witness to this morning's theatrics.

Irma's response to her summons was swift. As soon as Bríet had departed with a large basket to retrieve foodstuffs from the palace kitchens for hers and Thorin's own little kitchenette, Rejna laid out the whole of the embarrassing story. Irma was silent throughout, then when she had finished, laid a comforting hand on her arm and smiled.

"My dear Princess, I should not worry yourself overmuch," the healer said. "It is actually very common for dams to experience sudden and severe shifts in mood when they are with child. I am certain your family is well aware of this, and they will be quick to accept your apologies."

"So my husband intimated this morning—but pray tell me, is there any remedy I may take to relieve these nonsensical outbursts? I should like to curb them if it is at all possible, that there is no repeat of driving those I love out of my company."

Irma smiled again. "In fact there are a number of herbal remedies you might take, Princess. I shall prepare them for you straight away, and instruct your maid in how to brew them, for they are best consumed as teas."

Rejna reached for her hand. "Thank you, Irma, ever so much. This will mean such a great deal to repairing my standing among the family."

When Irma had gone a short while later, Rejna decided it would be best to begin her campaign of apologies with her father. The king, quite naturally, smiled wide and held her hands, and his forgiveness was swift. When she mentioned Irma's words to her, he nodded and said that now it was mentioned, he recalled her dear mother had suffered such mood swings, and that herbal teas had been the remedy in her case as well.

"To whom will you speak next?" he asked then.

"Well, as I am not yet permitted to leave the family wing, in order that the story of my convalescence remains intact, I've only one person I can call on next."

Ragin chuckled. "Do not allow her to intimidate you, my dear. The Lady Dís will respect you all the more if you are confident in your manner," he said. "Do be contrite, of course—if she feels you are insincere, you shall only cause the divide between you to grow larger."

"Be humble and sincere, but be firm? Yes, that will be just the right thing," Rejna groused.

Her father laughed again. "My dear girl, a dam from such a noble bloodline, who is as used to being in a position of authority as are you, is also quite as used to intimidating everyone with whom she comes in contact. She will respect you more if you show her you are not afraid of her. Do not be rude or condescending, of course, but also do not be afraid to look her in the eye."

Drawing a deep breath, Rejna inclined her head. Kissing her father's cheek then, she took her leave and began the anxiety-building walk down the hall and around the corner to Dís' chambers. She had been placed in the rooms next to Kíli's, which had been Thorin's prior to their marriage, a convenient placement indeed given her nephew had let slip a day or so ago that he had jumped from his balcony to hers—a feat that could not have been accomplished had their suites not been next to each other.

Outside the large, ornate door to the suite stood Gunnar, which surprised Rejna not at all. As she understood it, no one in Dwarrowvale knew exactly who Dís was—only that she was a relation of Fíli and Kíli. Still, her brother was taking no chances and a guardian had been assigned, just as one had been assigned to him upon their betrothal. She nodded at the soldier, who bowed from the shoulders before he turned and knocked on the door twice, then entered upon the muffled summons from beyond it. About a minute later the door opened again; Gunnar stepped aside so that she could cross the threshold, then he stepped out again and closed the door.

Dís stood from her seat at the small dining table as Rejna's eyes roamed the sitting room. Her gaze fell upon a sight that amazed and delighted her: before the fireplace lay the young gray wolf of Kíli's, against which lay the infant daughter of Dís. Zari was fast asleep, one tiny fist half in her mouth and the other grasping tightly to a tuft of Thafar's fur. The wolf, in turn, had lain a paw across the baby's legs as though to hold her in place, or perhaps to stake a claim to the child.

"It is an amusing spectacle, is it not?" said Dís.

"I don't think I've ever seen anything cuter," Rejna replied.

"Indeed. Would that I could capture the moment. If only Ori were here…"

Rejna looked to her. "I've a friend that is artistically inclined. I could send for her, if you wish."

Dís raised an eyebrow. "It is kind of you to offer, Princess. Perhaps another time—I doubt we should either of us care for this interview to be witnessed."

"Indeed," Rejna replied.

Her hostess then gestured toward a chair opposite hers at the table. "Won't you join me?"

Her only reply a nod, Rejna moved at last from the door and made her way across the sitting room. She was nervous as she took her seat, and hoped desperately that her anxiety was not on display. It was several seconds after Dís had lowered herself back into her own chair before either uttered another word.

"You must be wondering why I am come," Rejna began. "I shall get right to the point—I am sorry, madam. I offer my sincerest apologies for the offenses I have made, though I beg you would believe I truly meant none. Though I own I was at one time as you described me—spoilt, selfish, impatient, entitled—I have certainly grown out of such behavior as I have aged, though I understand my recent actions have led you and others to believe otherwise. I despise myself the behavior I have displayed, and was at a loss as to what would lead me to act in so childish a manner until I spoke with my healer at Thorin's suggestion. Though it by no means excuses my conduct, Irma did tell me that the changes a dam goes through whilst she is with child can and does alter behavior. What you have seen of me is not who I am."

Dís listened to her without interruption, and it was not until she had finished her speech that she appeared to relax her tense posture even a fraction, leading Rejna to wonder if she'd been expecting another heated confrontation.

"No, it is not an excuse for such behavior," said she. "A dam—especially one in such a position as yours—must always be in command of herself. Or at least, she must appear to be. However, I will grant that pregnancy does regrettably bring out the worst in our gender. I know all too well, having suffered as you do three times. You ought to have had a discussion with your healer as soon as you learned you had conceived about how being with child might and would affect you."

"We did speak, my lady, but…not in great depth. The fault is, again, likely mine. So much has been on my mind besides being pregnant that I've had relatively little time to devote to considering only that."

Dís acknowledged her words with a nod. "I concede that, with the troubles you are facing, some concerns might well have taken priority over others. Your transgressions are therefore understood. Not excused, mind you, but understood."

"Thank you," Rejna replied. "Might we try again to be friends?"

"I think it best we try, seeing as we've no choice as to our being family," Dís returned. She drew a breath then. "Now, I think, I can thank you."

"Thank me?" said a confused Rejna. "Whatever for?"

"For somehow managing to put up with my pig-headed brother long enough to actually conceive his child. Thorin is notorious for his obstinence."

Rejna felt herself relax enough to smile. One hand rested atop her growing bump as she replied, "I could not deny the Maker's will, and neither could he—though he certainly tried. Thorin believed himself too old for me. Still does, if I'm not mistaken. Said he wished we could have had a lifetime together, that I deserve more than he could ultimately give."

And here, Dís herself offered a smile. "I have missed that—the tender, caring heart he tries so foolishly to pretend is non-existent. The heart he showed when we lost our brother at so young an age, when we lost our father, our mother…when I lost my Síli. It was with that same heart that he instantly—without being asked, without a single complaint in all the years before that bloody quest—became the father that was taken from my children."

Her eyes, which had drifted away with a reminiscent glaze, came back to Rejna then. "I do not think Mahal could have chosen a better mate for you. Though my opinion of him may be somewhat biased, I would swear with my dying breath that Thorin is the greatest dwarrow I have ever known. He cares so deeply, with his very soul, for his family. Even our people have had a share of his heart, as I am sure yours now do. But for his family—and more importantly for you and the child you carry—he will live, he will kill, and he will die. All in order to see you safe."

Rejna shuddered. "Oh, I pray you would not speak so—I cannot bear to think of losing him! Never have I loved as I do him. Never have I been so happy to give a gift to anyone, as when I told him of our child. Though I cherish the privacy of that conversation, I almost wish that others could have seen it—the very moment he understood my words and knew that he was to have his very own child. The pure, unadulterated joy that alighted upon his face… I really could not describe it properly in any tongue of the world."

Dís studied her for a moment, then said words that made Rejna's heart swell with emotion.

"No. Our Maker does not make mistakes. Only his One could understand what giving such a gift to Thorin would mean to him."

The tear that slipped over Rejna's lashes was hastily wiped away. "Thank you for that. Perhaps there is a chance we shall be friends after all."

Dís studied her again. "Tell me, Princess, what is it you want? Amidst all that which is going on around you, what is it that you really want out of this life?"

"Happiness," she said, near surprising herself with how absolutely true that simple answer was. "I want to be happy. I want happiness to be felt by all who surround me. We had such peace in Dwarrowvale until Thorin's coming—"

"Do you blame him, blame my sons and Dwalin, for all that has occurred?" Dís asked with narrowed eyes.

"Not in the least. Their coming here was coincidental as to the timing of everything—it is Hagen who is to blame! His arrogance, his ambition, his greed… it was not until the coming of your kin that he began his campaign against me in earnest, using their arrival as inspiration or cover for his wretched schemes. You know he tried twice to kill Thorin, don't you?"

"Idiot," spat Dís with a very unladylike snort. "Yes, my sons have mentioned it—as well as that neither time did he confront my brother face to face. An arrow from afar? Hired thugs? He is a cowardly piece of rukhs kakhf. Then to set the bloody Brotherhood loose on his own community, to hire another band of fools to beat his own son to death… I cannot help but wonder if there is nothing he will not do."

Here Rejna loosed her own snort of derision. "He apparently thought nothing of attacking me himself, if not to kill us both, then to at least cost me my son."

"Clearly he has no scruples about attacking a mere female—"

At this Rejna's indignation burst forth. "I am not a mere female! I am Princess of Dwarrowvale and a general in His Majesty's Army!"

"Which proves the point even further that he is a bloody coward—he had not the stones to face even you. Hagen clearly has no respect for you, to attack a female who is with child, armed only with a dagger and a candle. But still he did so, though I note it was from behind and in near-total darkness. To me, that says that he did not trust he could walk away without harm to himself should he come at you from the front."

"So you think he is afraid of us—of Thorin and I? It is not merely that he wishes to appear unconnected to the attacks?"

Dís nodded. "Indeed. While certainly he would wish to distance himself from any public suspicion, what he knows of you and what may have been rumored of Thorin after that first skirmish in which you met was clearly enough to make him think twice about attacking either of you head on."

Rejna mulled over her words and slowly nodded her agreement. "You know, I think you are right. I had not considered it that way before—that he was afraid of us. I thought it merely his arrogance that led him to such actions. He would know that we would suspect him but not be able to prove it. Indeed, all we really have on my attack is the word of an animal whom no one can understand but an outsider."

"There is also you, Rejna. Did you not say that you smelt something familiar just before the hands grabbed you?" Dís pressed.

For a moment she was too surprised at having been addressed by name to respond. Dís had only ever called her "madam" or "Princess".

"I did indeed," she said at last. "And when I was informed that Bahûna had named Hagen as my attacker, I knew she was right. Not just because I hate him, but because I know that smell. He has always worn this very particular cologne. I remember it hung about the sitting room of my chambers after I'd seen him there with Telka; I had the balcony door open for more than an hour to try and rid the room of it. It was always far too strong for my liking before I conceived, but then it made me absolutely nauseous."

Dís stood slowly and crossed her arms as she paced over to check on Zari and Thafar, neither of whom had made any noise or movement. Seemingly satisfied with what she saw, she turned back with one arm crossed under her bosom and the other raised to stroke her chin. "It would seem to me," she began, "that we must trap him—or rather, get him to trap himself. We must trick him into digging a hole out of which it will be impossible to climb, something that will damn him in the eyes of the people as well as the court."

She paused then, drawing a sharp breath, her eyes widening. Rejna stood, fearing she was suffering from sudden apoplexy. Utter confusion came over her when Dís began suddenly to laugh, startling the wolf enough to make him whimper.

"Oh, it will be perfect!" she cried.

"Perfect? What will be perfect?" asked Rejna. "My dear lady, are you well?"

"The trap, Princess! I have got the very trap to spring, which I am certain will rid us of Hagen's fell presence for good!"

Rejna, seeing how excited Dís was by her idea, encouraged her to reveal it. And when she had heard what Dís believed they ought to do, she felt likewise that it was absolute perfection.

"Oh, sister! Pray forgive me for ever doubting you," said she. "When you promise to deliver perfection, you really do mean it!"