"Forever and Ever" - Royal Wood
These two rivers meet,
they run together.
I will be with you,
for worse or better.
We'll keep travelling
long as the sun lies.
'Cause my future met
-Five Years Later-
Normally, Sigrid didn't mind the meetings of the Valley council; in fact, she often found that she looked forward to the vigorous debates and negotiations required to reach an accord between the men of Dale and the Dwarves of Erebor. But today, on such a momentous day as this, she would rather have been anywhere else.
"The fencing on those paddocks needs to be seen to immediately." Announced one of the representatives from Dale. "If I have to chase one more blasted goat off of my crops, I'll kill it!"
"You'll do no such thing, Hilda." Sigrid said sternly from the head of the table.
"Those fences are of dwarf making; there's nought a latch more secure in the land." Bifur growled. "You'd best find the thief who's settin' them goats loose before I chop him down ta stumps!"
"You'll do no such thing, Bifur." Sigrid repeated forcefully. "We will have the fences inspected and set a shepherd to watch the goats at night."
And so it went on.
As she sat at the table, the voices of the representative slowly ebbed away from the grasp of her consciousness. Her thoughts strayed this way and that, meandering beyond the studded oak doors of the council chamber to the city beyond, where all of Erebor would be abuzz with anticipation. The Dwarves would be rushing back and forth along the stone causeways as they carted dishes upon dishes of succulent meats, stacked loaves of sweetbread, and barrels of spiced wines into the feasting halls. The Hall of Kings would be given one last meticulous scour to ensure that it was resplendent and fit to host representatives from kingdoms far flung across the land.
Sigrid felt the tangled mess of nerves low in her stomach twist and strain.
"You cannot carry the weight of a kingdom upon your shoulders, my love." She had said when she caught him worrying at the future that lay before them.
"And yet I must." He replied. "For if I do not, then who will?"
"I will."
A small smile spread across her lips, for it was true that once today's ceremony was over, they would truly share in the burden. But then again, they had never needed a ceremony for such things.
Her mind strayed further away, lingering in the memory of the other means by which they had passed that rare afternoon of shared freedom...
Suddenly there was a loud and abrupt cough beside her and Sigrid started. Brought sharply back to the present she looked up, only to find the faces of the Council turned towards her, expectantly.
"What is your opinion, Princess Sigrid?" Prompted Hilda.
Beside her, Ori shifted his hand inconspicuously, and on the pretence of taking a swig from her goblet before embarking upon a longwinded speech, Sigrid glanced at the last words that Ori had transcribed.
Winter crop rotation.
Sigrid took a deep breath, glancing hopefully at the door as she replaced the goblet. She had anticipated the question and prepared her solution, but a vital part of that solution was yet to arrive at the council. She would have to stall for time.
"The matter at hand is of no small consequence." She began calmly. "Although the success of the irrigation project has revived the soil in the valley, these times of peace have also seen the population of our two kingdoms growing by the day. So, it is imperative that the grain stores record a surplus, and that the next cycle of crops sown survive the oncoming winter. Now, neither of our kingdoms can claim to be in possession of expert agrarian knowledge unless the crops we count are rock and fish-" There was a good-natured chuckle from both sides and she smiled indulgently at them. "But today, of all days, we are reminded of two things; the first, is that our new beginnings are built upon the foundations of history and tradition, and second, that the ties which bind us to our neighbours have never been stronger."
Dwalin slipped between the double oak doors and gave her a small direct nod. Sigrid allowed herself a private grin of victory before continuing.
"I propose two concurrent courses of action." She said, getting to her feet. "The first is that we send for Aeron, the keeper of the old and new Chronicles of Dale, and glean the wisdom of Dale's ancestors from its pages. Second, we seek the advice of an ally who is an expert." She motioned for Dwalin to open the chamber doors as she strode towards them, and then proffered her arm to the person who stepped through.
The figure who took her arm was shorter than she, still wearing a worn travelling coat over his neat, gold buttoned waistcoat, and with his disproportionately large and hairy feet utterly bare despite the cool stone floor.
"Apologies, my Lady. I'm not late am I?" Bilbo Baggins asked, dusting off his travelling coat.
"Not at all, Master Baggins." Sigrid returned with a smile. "Fíli and I are so glad that you could join us today." She turned about so that the figure was in view of the curious waiting council. "I have invited Master Bilbo Baggins to preside as our expert over this morning's meeting."
There was an uproar of recognition and calls of greeting. Sigrid smiled. "I believe many of you are already acquainted with him."
After that, it took some time for decorum to recommence but once it had Bilbo was able to put matters to order; Barley, oats, carrots, and potatoes. Naturally, this would need to be correlated with the Chronicles, but Sigrid and the councillors had every faith in their expert.
Once the Valley Council was resolved, Sigrid stood by the door as the representatives departed, each wishing her the best for the coming ceremony, and one or two adding a conspiratorial emphasis to her title of Princess as they left.
When the table was at last cleared, Sigrid closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
"Shall I send for tea," the hobbit's voice suggested. "Or perhaps something stronger?"
She chuckled. "Thank you Master Baggins, but I'm afraid that if Dori or Tilda thought I was here drinking with you instead of getting ready, they would hear about it and haul me away before the first drop was poured!"
Dwalin cleared his throat. "We'd best keep moving then, my Lady."
Sigrid nodded, the nerves in her stomach twisting again. She turned apologetically to Bilbo. "I'm afraid I must be going."
"Then allow me to offer myself as an escort." Bilbo held out an arm and leant towards her conspiratorially. "Dwalin might be Erebor's best guard, but I can assure you that my company is far more loquacious."
Sigrid stifled a snort and Dwalin glowered silently. She took Bilbo's proffered arm and the three of them departed the council chambers.
"I must admit that I did not believe Thorin's letter when he first wrote to me." Bilbo said as Dwalin lead them through the less frequented corridors of Erebor. "To think of Bard's daughter betrothed to Thorin's nephew!" He shook his head. "I do suppose that most of your guests today are here to reconcile their similar disbelief."
"I suppose so." Sigrid agreed, lifting her chin. "But I'm inclined to believe it would do them some good to see two kingdoms united and old feuds resolved."
The hobbit chuckled and patted her arm. "That spirit will serve you well when in the company of Dwarfs, my dear." He peered up at her shrewdly. "Are you nervous?"
Sigrid considered for a moment. They were now high above the core of the Mountain and the amassing din of voices from the gathering masses below echoed up to them. "I am I suppose." She began. "At first I was excited; we've waited for so long for this day, but now that it's here..." Sigrid took a deep steadying breath as the straining nerves in her stomach threatened nausea. She mastered her expression into a smile. "But I have Fíli -well, I have him most of the time."
"Hmm yes, I was surprised he was not at the meeting, but then I suppose he is at the mercy of his uncle's last-minute advice before the ceremony." They came to a stop outside the doors to a private chamber. "Never the less, I did manage to give him my regards briefly before joining you, and he bade me deliver this." Bilbo reached into the breast pocket of his waistcoat and from behind a handkerchief he pulled out a folded piece of parchment.
Sigrid took the letter from his outstretched hand and unfolding it, she indeed saw Fíli's hurried scrawl. Her hand flew to lips and she looked up from the letter, unable to speak.
"My gift." The hobbit explained. "It isn't much when you will have an entire kingdom at the end of the day, but I know that you will see its worth."
Sigrid threw her arms around him before bending down to press a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you Master Baggins!" She whispered.
"Yes, well." Bilbo looked a little bit flustered. Then he looked up at her warmly. "I wish you both a lifetime of joy, with all my heart. And should you ever need my help, for anything -even more council meetings-, I would be honoured to be at your service." Then he turned and hurried away.
Without needing to be asked, Dwalin turned his back so that she might have a moment's privacy.
Sigrid opened Fíli's letter.
To my wife,
It has been four years and yet you cannot possibly fathom the joy it gives me to write those words.
I apologise for the empty pillow you awoke beside this morning. Thorin demanded that I meet with him for one final time before the coronation ceremony.
Writing those two words is considerably less enjoyable.
But then I remember you. I remember what you told me five years ago, I remember the vows we exchanged four years ago, and I remember that -just like then- you will be by my side today as Queen.
It is that knowledge alone that keeps me from running away and leaving Kíli to take my place!
Please know that I am also by your side and that I love you more than I can say. Perhaps if I loved you less, I could talk about it more.
So, for now, these words will have to suffice.
Until later,
Fíli.
Sigrid finished the letter, and with her mind made up she turned to her guard.
"Dwalin, we're making a detour."
"My Lady?"
She folded the letter and tucked it into her bodice. "I need to see my husband."
Thorin paced back and forth in his chamber, a fur-trimmed mazarine blue cape swishing in the wake of his stride. "Remember, you need to inspire the confidence and faith of our people today. Make them see the future of Erebor as you see it; as you have shown me. Make them believe in it." He turned on his heel to make sure his nephew was listening.
Fíli sat on a stool in the middle of the chamber at the mercy of his mother's precision with a comb. Had it been any other day he wouldn't have bothered to tidy his hair. Had it been any other day Sigrid would tend to it. She would trace patterns across his scalp with her slender fingers and gently run them through his hair, teasing the tangles apart in such a way that would cause him to close his eyes as groan with pleasure, until neither of them could stand the distance any longer.
His mother, on the other hand, seemed determined to make his hair part company with his scalp, and she would slap his hand away every time he tried to intervene.
Balin clicked his tongue. "And keep in mind when you greet one of the Broadbeam clan-"
"I know, Balin. Clasp his forearm with three fingers and recite the blessings of Aluë." Fíli interjected. They had only gone over the matter and hour ago. "You needn't worry." He assured his first advisor.
Balin narrowed his eyes. "Never confuse their histories or customs with the Firebeards. They may seem as close as brothers, but if you fail to acknowledge their individual customs you will have lost the respect of both as allies. And it is not uncommon for them to spit on your robes as a sign of respect." He added.
"Idiots." Dís muttered, giving a good tug on Fíli's hair. "The greatest purveyors of bullshit since that Elf King."
Thorin wasn't listening.
"When you address your people after the ceremony, you must emphasise the new beginning; the dawn of a new era."
"Thorin," Fíli said through gritted teeth, as his head was tugged violently in another direction. "We've been through this already."
But Thorin was now reciting distractedly under his breath. "Then you follow up by announcing the new trade agreement with the men of the south through Dale." He stopped pacing again to look up at his nephew. "Dain and his people will want to know if there is any news of an heir."
Fíli nearly choked.
"It really would be ideal, lad." Balin agreed. "It would go a long way to reinforce the certainty of a future for Erebor."
"I cannot just produce an heir on command because it suits my kingship!" Fíli exclaimed in exasperation as his head was tugged this way and that.
"That's not for lack of trying, judging from the noises coming from your chambers." His mother smirked.
Fíli closed his eyes and begged Mahal for the patience not to stand up and walk away from them all.
"Yes," Thorin grimaced. "I would have expected an announcement before now." He turned so that his back was to his nephew before he spoke next. "You're not...there aren't any... difficulties?"
Fíli silently began counting to ten; clearly Mahal had once again chosen to abandon him in his time of need.
"You know, Óin has been called on to consult with many a husband and wife on such matters." Balin advised kindly. "An infusion of red clover, saffron. I'll have wild yam sent for." He turned towards a laden table and began shuffling through stacks of parchment.
One. Two. Three.
"There is something to be said for the way the deed is performed." Dís mused. "Dear Sigrid is rather tall. You know, perhaps you ought to try and twist-"
Fíli's wasn't the only voice to vehemently protest further elaboration.
Dís scoffed, waving them off. "Fíli, all I'm saying is that your brother came as a bit of a shock, but I will swear on my life that it was because your father had a certain skilful way of-"
At that moment there came a knock at the door, and when Dwalin appeared with the message that Kíli and Tauriel had arrived and wished to see him, Fíli sent a prayer of repentance and thanks to all the Valar for his salvation. He leapt up from the stool and out of reach of his mother's comb, exiting the room before another word could be said.
"Dwalin, if you ever find yourself in need of anything, remind me of the trauma you just rescued me from, and it shall be done." He muttered through gritted teeth.
"Aye, It's not me you'll be thanking." and for some reason, Dwalin smirked.
Fíli frowned as they continued along the corridor. "But why did Kíli not come to Thorin's chamber? It has been almost three years since they set off."
Dwalin stopped abruptly along a shadowed corridor, turning to Fíli. "I'll ask you to remember what I just rescued you from when I tell you that I lied about ye' brother." He pointed along the empty corridor to an alcove.
Fíli raised an eyebrow.
"She's waiting for you. Five minutes. I'll be at the other end of the hall." Then Dwalin turned and walked away, pausing only to call over his shoulder. "And for Mahal's sake, I don't want to hear anything!"
Fíli grinned. There could only be one awaiting him.
As soon as he stepped into the alcove, two hands were upon his chest, fingers gripping his shirt and pulling him forwards. Then he felt her breath against the nape of his neck, heard her voice low and husky on his ear.
"Fíli."
And then her mouth was upon his, capturing his lips in hers. Her kisses spoke of longing, her fingers digging into his chest shouted of a desperate need to feel him, to be connected to him. And he returned it in equal measure.
They shuffled backwards almost clumsily, further into the shadows until they were against a low ledge carved into the wall. Fíli's fingers found their way to her waist and he shifted them so she sat upon it. A primal growl escaped from his mouth and he cupped her face in his hands before pulling away, a grin spreading across his lips. "I missed you too, my love."
She leant forwards and pressed her forehead to his as they caught their breath. "Is this to be our life now; forced to snatch only moments together in shadowed corners of our kingdom?"
"There's a lot that can be done in snatched moments." He reasoned with a devilish grin.
"Five minutes?"
He stepped closer into the space between them. "Hmm might not be long enough, I'm afraid Dwalin will have to be bribed."
"Oh yes," Sigrid sighed dramatically. "We'll just add him to the long list of people in need of placating in this kingdom and in Dale."
Fíli cocked his head shrewdly. "The Council went well then?"
"No shouting today, one or two death threats. I'll need to go down and see the farmers tomorrow so we know whether or not to order more seeds, and I want an updated account of the grain and seed stocks before the farmers set to sowing, the irrigation cisterns need to be checked, and then I have to find a shepherd for those goats before Hilda has them turned to stew. And that's just what needs doing in the Valley!" Sigrid paused to draw a deep breath.
He reached up to trace along her jaw. In the shadows of the alcove her face was half-hidden from him, all the lines and hollows thrown into sharp relief, and it troubled him to see the shadows beneath her eyes. "You cannot solve everyone's problems, my love. There isn't enough time in the world for one person to do so much."
"I am a princess of one land and soon to be the queen of another. I will make time."
He laughed at her stubborn resolution. "There will always be something or someone to worry about, but there will also always be someone to help us fix it. That is the beauty of being a princess of one land and a queen of another."
Sigrid smiled and leant her cheek into the palm of his hand. "When did my husband get so old and wise?" She teased.
"Wiser, but not older." Fíli whispered.
And there it was; the simple tragedy that had the power to choke their words. And although it might have seemed that with each day they moved inexorably towards this doom, if there was anything they knew it was that the power of their love was mightier than their sorrows. And it was this resolution that brought their lips crashing back together with a hunger that was almost frightening, searching each other out in the dark, holding on for all they were worth.
"Oh please, don't let us interrupt you." Drawled a familiar voice. "It's not as though there is a ceremony to be getting on with."
Fíli and Sigrid broke apart, looking around to see Kíli standing in the opening of the alcove, with Tauriel by his side.
There was a cry of joy as brothers and friends were reunited, and they threw their arms around each other.
Fíli gripped his brother's shoulders fiercely. "It's been too long."
"Much too long." Kíli agreed solemnly. He looked his brother up and down. "You've gotten fatter."
"I've still got a longer beard than you." Fíli retorted, and his hand snaked out to swipe his younger brother across the back of his head.
Tauriel and Sigrid rolled their eyes as the brothers wrestled like children.
And then Dwalin stalked down to corridor towards them, looking thunderous. "Oi! I sent you down 'ere to pull those two apart and now I have to pull the two of you apart!"
Fíli and Kíli straightened up, faces flushed as they grinned.
"Just like old times, Dwalin." Kíli laughed, thumping him on the back.
The corner of Dwalin's mouth twitched.
"There will be plenty of time to talk later, but we cannot delay any more." Tauriel prompted them.
"As my wife commands." Kíli saluted.
Fíli turned to Sigrid. "I will see you on the other side of all this madness."
"Always."
Fíli pressed a parting kiss to his wife's cheek, and Kíli leant forwards and whispered something into to Tauriel's ear that made her laugh and then squeeze his hand tightly. But Dwalin cleared his throat and so they swiftly parted ways.
"Oh how I've missed you." Sigrid sighed happily to Tauriel, as Dwalin lead them back the way they had come. "I cannot imagine that a few days will be enough time for you to tell all the stories of your travels, for I want to hear everything of the lands beyond before you leave again."
"Then I suppose it is a good thing that we may not leave again for some time." Tauriel replied cryptically.
Sigrid looked at her in surprise. "But you were both so eager to travel and see the world beyond these realms after you were wed!"
"Yes, we were." Tauriel agreed.
Sigrid began to wonder if a small part of her friend was enjoying toying with her curiosity. Evidently prolonged proximity to Kíli had side effects.
They had nearly reached the chambers and they could now hear the sound of voices. Dori's voice was distinct in its frantic pitch as he ordered someone to find the Princess immediately and bring her to be dressed lest she be crowned queen looking like a Bargeman's daughter.
But before they rounded the corner, Tauriel stopped and took Sigrid's hand. "My dear, there is something I wish to show you."
Sigrid's brow furrowed in confusion but Tauriel simply lead her forwards.
"Durin's beard and dragon dropping, do you know what time it is!" Dori squawked as he caught sight of them.
"My apologies Dori. I had an urgent matter to be seen to." Sigrid apologised contritely.
She heard Dwalin's less than subtle snort.
Dori shook his head and turned around to wave his hand at the harem of attendants waiting in the doorway. They retreated back into the chamber; Dori already barking out instructions for water to be reheated and fresh herbs to be brought.
As the dwarrows retreated, Tilda stepped out from behind them, and Sigrid's heart leapt to see her, then her breath caught in her throat to see what her sister cradled in her arms.
Tilda rocked the swaddled babe gently in her arms, cooing softly as the child's green eyes took in the strange underground world around it.
"She is yours?" Sigrid breathed.
Tauriel nodded, gently taking her daughter into her arms. The babe gurgled in delight to see its mother.
"But you never said-"
"When we learnt I was carrying her, we were terrified," Tauriel explained. "We had no way of knowing if she would be healthy, if I would be able to deliver her, or even how long I could carry her. So we travelled to Rivendell and sought the advice of Lord Elrond, who is a learned healer." Tauriel looked up at Sigrid. "I wanted to write to you a thousand times, my dear, for I knew that you above all would understand those fears as well as I."
Sigrid bit her lip.
There was a knowing look in Tauriel's eye. "Until all was well, I did not want to burden you with doubt and more fear."
Dazed, Sigrid reached out a hand to the babe. A chubby fist stretched out and seized her finger with a surprising strength and the child peered at her.
"I will not lie and say that my time was easy, for I laboured long to bring her into the world. But my daughter was born strong and healthy." She smoothed the crop of raven black locks that already crowned the child's head. "Each day I learn more about her, and I suppose only time will tell from whom she takes after more; what traits and virtues of my people she claims, and what of Kíli's. But, she is healthy, as am I."
Sigrid looked up from the child to Tauriel. "You know?" She whispered.
"I told her." Tilda affirmed, squeezing her arm. "Sigrid, this means that everything is going to be alright."
Sigrid nodded slowly, her mind turning with so many thoughts and emotions. Then the babe gurgled and swung her fist back and forth still clutching Sigrid's finger. She didn't know whether to cry or to laugh.
"My lady," Dori poked his head around the door, now looking truly frantic. "We must get you ready!"
Tilda rolled her eyes and stepped through the door, Tauriel following with her daughter. But Sigrid paused one last time before the threshold.
Dwalin looked between her and the door. "If you need ta' be rescued just send for me, my Queen."
"I'm not a Queen yet, Dwalin." Sigrid reminded him.
The warrior shrugged his broad shoulders. "Might as well be to me."
Sigrid laughed, a twinkle in her eye. "In that case, I ought to be able to face this myself." And with that, she stepped through the door.
The dwarrow women had prepared a basin of warm lavender-scented water, and Sigrid was shed of her overclothes as they dipped washcloths in the warm water, humming softly in khuzdul as they bathed her.
They had hardly begun the ritual when Dís burst into the room, scattering the women and demanding to see her granddaughter. And it was the first time Sigrid had ever seen her cry, as she tenderly took the babe into her strong arms.
Then the coronation dress was brought forth to much appreciative reverence, and her kinswoman remarked on its likeness in style to the dress worn by the former queen under the Mountain -only with longer proportions. Dís proudly observed that the colouring was of the same crimson maroon as Fíli's own regalia.
Then Sigrid retreated behind a partitioned shade and Tauriel and Tilda slipped the dress over her head and began to lace the intricate stays. As they did, Tilda regaled them with the news that Bain was in love.
"The story they're telling in the marketplace is that the young prince of Dale was out riding through the wilds when he came across a peasant girl from one of loyal outlying villages. They are saying that the moment he set eyes upon her he was utterly smitten by her beauty and kindness." Tilda rolled her eyes as she hooked and tied the stay.
Sigrid scoffed, wincing slightly as her brocade was tightened about her chest. "And what is Bain saying?"
"Almost the same." Tilda shrugged. "Except he tells it that she held him at sword point when he first arrived in her village; apparently he looked nothing like 'a proper Prince'."
Tauriel chuckled. "I think I might rather like this wild peasant girl."
When Sigrid emerged in her dress it was to many sighs and nay a dry eye.
She was brought around to a low stool and Dori began to craft her hair, weaving through rubies and gold chains like lace, as the dwarrow woman recited their stories of the queens of old.
Sigrid laughed along with them; these dwarves who had become her friends, her kin. And somewhere between Dori's fussing and the laughter of the women, and the thought of the news she would share with Fíli later that night, Sigrid quite forgot to be nervous.
It became apparent that Dís had no intention of giving up her granddaughter any time soon. When they arrived at the Hall of Kings, a crowd of curious and excited onlookers surrounded Dís and the babe.
Kíli and Tauriel watched on from the sidelines, their hands intertwined between them.
"She's clearly inherited my charming personality." Kíli proclaimed approvingly.
Tauriel snorted. "Just wait until they learn that she had your uncle's temperament."
They watched as Dís proudly pointed out the raven tresses upon the child's head, and Kíli frowned as Nori proclaimed that she already had more hair than her father. They watched as the dwarves clucked and fussed around the child; Dwalin ordering Ori to knit a pair of boots for the little princess's feet, Bofur letting her reach up to grasp the pointed tip of his hat in her chubby fist. And they watched and their daughter giggled and gurgled at the faces around her.
"What would you say if I suggested that we stay put for a few years?" Kíli began, turning to his wife. "I know that it is in your heart to see more of the world beyond their lands, and believe me when I say that I share-"
Tauriel silenced him with a kiss. "I would say yes." She replied earnestly. "Our daughter deserves a family."
Kíli blinked, somewhat dazed. "You- you want to stay?"
"Well, I do believe that you made a promise five years ago that you would build me a house one day."
Kíli laughed and his eyes were alight with joy as he lifted his wife into the air and swung her about, not caring that they were drawing all eyes, not caring that people had to step out of their way. And when at last he set her down, Kíli kissed Tauriel for all to see.
The deeps drums of the mountain began to pulse and the guests who had gathered in the Hall of Kings and in the onlooking galleries fell silent.
They turned their heads to see King Thorin standing upon a raised dais, the Raven crown of Durin's folk resting upon his head. Princess Dís stood by his side, her mother's crown of gold and quartz stone in her hands. And then the Wizard Gandalf took up his place at the foot of the dais beside an ancient stone plinth, for although he had protested not to meddle in the affairs of kings, he had allowed the invitation to find him and accepted.
The voices of the dwarves began to hum like the low rumble of rock, and Gandalf raised his arms.
From the east appeared the future queen, stepping into the Hall with her head held high.
And from the West stepped the future King. Gold was his mane, and strength and nobility were his bearings.
With each pulse of the drum they walked along the stone path, past King Bard who looked on with deep pride, past the bowing men and women of Dale clad in their finest and brightest colours, past the Elven King whose expression of mellow indifference flickered ever so slightly as the future queen of Erebor passed by him.
They met where their paths joined in the centre of the hall before turning, as one towards the dais and the thrones. As they did so the armoured dwarves who lined the path raised their axes in a salute, and they passed beneath, hand in hand.
Gandalf lowered his arms as they reached the dais and the humming of the dwarves died down as Fíli and Sigrid prostrated themselves upon the first step.
"The hour has come to bid the night farewell." The wizard cried, his voice echoing through the cavernous hall. "The time has come to wake from your healing, to move beyond the realms of days past. The hour has come to welcome the dawn."
Dain stepped forwards and proclaimed the litany of the Durin, calling for valour, honour and strength to guide the new King and Queen.
Then Princess Dís descended the steps of the dais and held the crown of the queen aloft. She met Sigrid's eyes with a smile and began to sing.
"Born of water and the blood of old Dale,
Unto a new queen Durin's folk hail,
And the halls will echo with the cry, the banners far be seen,
Long live the Queen!"
And as the crowd of men, elves, and dwarves echoed her final words, she placed the crown upon Sigrid's head.
Sigrid lifted her head, her eyes blazing.
Dís then stepped down from the dais to stand beside Kíli, Tauriel, and Dwalin, whose hand slipped into hers.
Then it was Fíli's turn, and the silence that fell upon the hall was profound.
Thorin slowly descended the stone steps, his eyes locked with his nephew. It seemed to them both that they were walking the final steps of a journey they had begun long, long ago. And none were privy to the words that passed silently between King and heir as Thorin reached for the crown and lifted it from his head. Then he began to sing.
"Under mountain, and under carven stone,
A new king has come unto the throne,
And as his crown be upholden, the folk of Durin shall sing,
Long live the King!"
And as the crowd shouted the words, Thorin set the crown of Erebor upon Fíli's head.
"Long live the Queen and long live the King." He repeated softly.
And as the chant was taken up and repeated, the deep drums took up their beat and the bells of Dale chimed in the distance, so they stood together at last and ascended the dais before turning to face their kin; a King and a Queen before all the land.
And as Thorin Oakenshield looked about him at the men, elves, and dwarves who had gathered together for the event, he had to agree that the world was indeed a merrier place.
Notes:
Alas, as dragons have their end so too does this fic.
Somebody once told me that the greatest gift that you can give another person is the belief that the words in their head have value. Thank you for letting the words in my head mean something.
I can honestly say that I wouldn't be who I am today without the love you have all shown me. Because of you all, I laugh a little louder, hold my head a little higher, and smile a lot more.
Ta ta for now!
With all my love,
Mont Girl of Lumatere
xxx