Can you believe we're at 90 chapters?! Who'd have thunk it would take so many? If this story was being published, it would have to be in volumes, it's so dang long. Of course, I also didn't expect it to take 5+ years to write, but that's a whole other issue...

Anyhoo... Once again I thank everyone coming by to read, and of course want to give a shout-out to the rockstars who decided to leave me a few words: Robinbird79, djhay4, Sparky She-Demon, Ardent, Ever Play, Dreamer3, SpringViolets, and Celebrisilweth. Ooh! And to new follower jjocasta. Thanks to all of you!

Ardent - No, Tilda can't choose another. Destiny is destiny, lol! And I am so chuffed you think I capture him so well.

Ever Play - I'm so happy think they interact together well! And that Denethor is being a naughty boy - and he definitely has no clue who he's dealing with, 'cause a Son of Durin ain't one to mess around! And thank you, as I didn't want Tilda's interest in Kili to seem too out of character for a 17-year-old girl.

90. The Hammer Falls

Balin nudged him, and at last he was able to command his feet to move. Hope stirred beneath his breast as he followed Tilda into the parlor of her family's rooms.

"What happened with that boy just now, Princess?" he asked cautiously.

Tilda groaned as she dropped onto one end of the sofa. He took the opposite end as she replied, "Breakfast, unfortunately. Even though I told Da I couldn't like him enough to consider a long-distance courtship, let alone marriage, I was told it would be impolite to refuse. 'We are their guests' and all that rubbish. I didn't expect it to be a private meal—or that he'd skip the courtship altogether and propose to me!"

Jealousy and anger flashed in his veins; Kíli felt Balin's eyes on him as he ground his teeth together to keep from spewing obscenities and insults regarding Denethor's lineage.

"Marriage—can you believe that?!" Tilda went on. "I've not even known him a fortnight and he thinks we should marry and 'unite our noble houses'. Pfft! No thank you!"

Balin, ever the diplomat, asked her, "May I ask why you object to the lad? Besides not having known him long."

Tilda's eyes found Kíli and she held his gaze for a moment, a hint of a smile on her lips, before she turned her attention to Balin and said, "Denethor is too full of pride, arrogance, and conceit for my liking. The whole time he spoke over breakfast, it was about how our marriage would benefit him and the stewardship and Gondor. He didn't seem to care about my feelings at all, and was genuinely surprised when I said no. I don't think he ever considered that I would reject him."

"I'm glad you did," Kíli heard himself say. "You deserve better than a prig like him."

The smile she turned his way was brilliant. "I do, don't I?"

"Indeed, Princess," offered Balin, his eyes flicking to Kíli and back again. After a moment, he asked where her parents and siblings were.

"Da's with Turgon, again. I believe they're arranging for some goods or other to be sent on to Dale while we go to Dwarrowvale in a couple of days. I really don't remember," Tilda replied. "Tauriel planned to take the little ones to a park today."

Drawing a steadying breath, Kíli then asked, "What did you want to do today? Shall we visit the market again, or perhaps the third level library? You said something yesterday about wanting to go there. Or we could go visit the Hall of Healing—you also mentioned wanting to see how Gondor's hospitals are run, and we've not yet found the time to go."

Tilda smiled again. "You remembered!"

"Of course I did. Unlike some other male who shall remain nameless, I actually respect you enough to listen to what you have to say," Kíli said with a grin. "I also genuinely like the sound of your voice, so I'd be just as happy having an intelligent conversation as I would be listening to you rattle off complete nonsense."

The princess laughed, and it relieved him to see her relaxing. A thrill then danced along his spine as she next held out her hand to him; he didn't hesitate to wrap her delicate fingers inside his own.

"Dearest Kíli, you are so—"

The three of them looked over as Tormen suddenly opened the door and stepped inside. Tilda stood at the expression he wore.

"Tormen, what is it?"

The soldier's eyes flicked between her and Kíli. "I… Begging your pardon, Princess, but there's a couple of Gondor men waiting outside for Master Kíli."

Kíli and Balin now stood. "What do they want with me?" Kíli asked.

"I don't know. They only said they were come to take you into custody," Tormen replied.

"Custody!" cried Tilda with alarm. "You mean they're here to arrest him?!"

Kíli growled. "Denethor," he muttered. "He's behind this."

Balin nodded. "No doubt about that, lad."

"Balin, what do I do?" Kíli asked as there came a pounding on the door.

His cousin held out his hand. "Give me your sword, and anything else you're carrying. Go with them and do not resist if they shackle you—and say nothing until I can get an audience with the Steward."

Reluctantly, Kíli unbuckled his sword belt and handed it over, then he pulled the knife he kept in his left boot and gave him that as well. When he looked to Tilda and saw fear in her eyes, the instinct to bring his One comfort had him reaching for her, and she folded willingly into his arms.

"Do not be frightened, mamarlûna," he whispered soothingly, even as the soldiers outside the suite pounded on the door again. "Have faith in Balin—he'll take care of this."

"And I will, Princess, you have my word," Balin assured her. "You know that whatever charges Denethor's filed, they're baseless."

Tilda stood back with a sniffle, and raised a hand to caress his cheek. He held her gaze for a moment before leaning to touch his brow to hers, then forced himself to turn away and move toward the door.

-…-

As soon as Kíli had stepped through the door, Tilda drew a deep breath to shore herself up and turned to Balin. "You can clear this up, can't you? Kíli hasn't done anything to Denethor—for goodness' sake, they only met this morning!"

A snarl of anger escaped her then. "Oh, if that lalkhun thinks I'm going to marry him now, he's never been more wrong in his life!"

Much to her surprise, Balin chuckled. "Dare I ask who taught you the Khuzdul word for 'fool'?" he asked when she looked back at him.

Tilda felt herself blush. "Bofur. I've heard it used so many times over the years that I just had to know what it meant, though I'd long had a suspicion by the time I got up the nerve to ask that it wasn't a compliment."

"Indeed not, Princess. Now, have you any idea where—specifically—your father and the Steward might be?"

She watched him attach Kíli's dagger sheath to his own belt, then he looped Kíli's sword belt around it somewhat awkwardly—his waist being much rounder than his cousin's, Balin could never have put it on properly.

"I believe Da said something about the forges," Tilda said after a moment's thought. "He seemed rather interested in the Gondorians' technique for making metal wagon axels, because wood ones break so easily."

Balin inclined his head. "All right, I'll start there."

"We, I think you mean. I'm coming with you."

"Princess, I do not think that wise," spoke up her bodyguard.

Tilda shook her head. "I'm not just going to stay here and do nothing when someone I care about has been falsely accused of a crime," she said resolutely, moving past Tormen and leading the way out herself. The soldier and the dwarf quickly followed.

It was an interminably long walk to the industrial section of the market level. More than once, Tilda cursed the size of the city. She also worried for Kíli, wondering if he was being treated fairly. She wondered what Denethor had accused him of, and further cursed the boy for doing it in the first place. And why, for goodness' sake? All Kíli had done was stand up for her. Sure, he'd grabbed his arm, but that was only after Denethor had purposely bumped into him.

Much to her disappointment, by the time the three reached the forges, her father and Turgon had already left. Further inquiry on Balin's part revealed that the two leaders had spoken of going to watch sparring matches at the army training grounds.

Desperation to see Kíli freed pulsed in her veins as they hurried to their next destination. A relieved sigh escaped Tilda on seeing that her father and the steward were still there—and knowing how much her father enjoyed such events, she almost hated to disturb him.

"Da!" she called out as she moved through the crowd waiting on the next match to begin to where he and Magnus stood with Turgon, Ecthelion and a couple of Gondorian guards. "Da!"

He turned his head at last and smiled as he waved her over. "Tilda, dearest, what are you doing here?" he asked, then took note of who was with her. "Where is Kíli? Did he not join you today?"

The question was directed at Balin, but it was Tilda who explained. "Da, Lord Turgon, Kíli's in trouble. Some soldiers came to our quarters to take him into custody a while ago, but he's done nothing! The whole time he's been in the city he's been with me or Balin or both!"

Her father glanced at Balin, who nodded, then turned to Turgon. "Do you know anything about this?"

Turgon shook his head. "Nay, Your Majesty, it's the first I've heard of it. Come, let us go back to the Citadel and I'll look into it. Frankly, I'm rather disturbed—Master Kíli is an official representative of Dwarrowvale, and whatever's happened could mean serious trouble for our relations with the dwarves."

When they had all of them departed the training facility and were on their way to the men's transportation—her father, Turgon, his son and their escorts had ridden horses down from the upper levels—the steward asked Tilda to tell him what she knew. Seeing no other recourse but to reveal everything that had transpired that morning, she started with the breakfast meeting with his grandson, the rejected proposal, and the confrontation that Kíli and Balin had witnessed outside the Dale party's quarters. Her account of the latter incident was confirmed by both Tormen and Balin.

Turgon sighed heavily and glanced at his son, who frowned deeply, as Bard was lifting his daughter onto his horse's saddle so she'd not have to walk back to the sixth level. "I knew that Den was keen on marrying you, Princess, but I had not expected him to press the matter so soon," said Ecthelion. "I am sorry he upset you."

"My Lord, I am less disturbed by Denethor's proposal than I am it appears he's falsely accused Master Kíli of a crime," Tilda replied. "Forgive me, sir, but it is the only explanation for his arrest."

Turgon and Ecthelion both were silent as the party set off, and once again Tilda found herself grumbling about the design of Minas Tirith as it took what seemed an age to reach the stables on the sixth level. From there, the Steward and his heir asked that they wait in their quarters, and said that word would be sent as soon as they'd spoken with Denethor.

Tilda immediately began to pace when they reached their suite, though both her father and Balin tried vainly to convince her to sit and be still. Nearly an hour passed, and they had heard nothing. Tauriel returned with Lucanío and Túrelië and, on seeing their concern, immediately sent the young ones off with their nursemaid to their room. Minutes later, as Bard was explaining what happened, Túrelië appeared again and walked up to Tilda.

"Up!" she demanded, lifting her arms.

Tilda suppressed a sigh and picked her sister up even though she had no desire to hold her. Túrelië planted her little hands on either side of her face and looked into her eyes, then said simply, "Kiwi come back, he save you" before laying her head on her shoulder with her arms about Tilda's neck.

"Well, if ever there was doubt before," muttered Balin. "There's certainly none to be had now."

"Tilda, you're to remain here in our rooms for the rest of our stay," said her father. "No arguments—if what you say of Denethor is true, and he's had Kíli falsely charged, I'll not give the little wretch any chance to lay his hands on you."

He walked up to her then and took up one of her hands. "Dearest, forgive me. I should never have pressed you to spend time with him. A better father would have gotten to know the boy before encouraging you to consider him as a potential husband."

Tilda sighed as she squeezed his hand. "Do not blame yourself, Da. I know what a strong tie with Gondor, such as our being united by marriage, would mean for Dale. I thought it my duty to at least consider the match, but… I just could not like him enough to marry him. I never dreamed he would do something like this."

There was a knock at the door then, though before anyone could move to answer it was opened by Magnus, who stepped aside to allow Kíli to pass before stepping out again.

"Kiwi!" cried Túrelië, stretching a hand toward him.

Kíli smiled as he crossed the room and took her hand gently. "Hello there, mim uzbadnâtha."

He then turned and offered a nod of greeting to Bard and Tauriel before turning his attention to Tilda. "And hello to you, mamarlûna."

Tilda was so deeply relieved to see him that had she not been holding her sister, she would have thrown caution to the wind and her arms around his neck.

Balin smiled briefly, then asked, "Kíli, what happened?"

His eyes still on her, Kíli scoffed as he said, "I spent the last couple of hours in a dungeon, apparently for 'assaulting' Denethor when I took his arm after he ran into me. Lord Turgon himself released me, offering his sincerest apologies for the actions of his 'misguided' grandson, and said that if I desired it, he would make him apologize to me personally. I declined the offer, saying I'd rather spend my time with those I care about."

He then looked between Bard and Balin with a grin. "As I understand it, the boy near created an international incident by having me falsely arrested."

Balin snorted. "Yes, what joy it will be having to explain this foolishness to your uncle and the king."

Kíli ignored him and offered Tilda a smile. "See, Princess? Nothing to worry about. I told you Bal would take care of it."

Tilda returned his smile. "I think it helped that both he and Tormen confirmed the story I told to Lord Turgon."

"In any case," interrupted her father, "you're still not to leave these quarters. I think I'll try and conclude our business early so we can get you out of here."

"Da, don't you think you're over-reacting?" Tilda challenged.

Kíli frowned as Balin was handing his weapons back to him. "You're not talking about Túrelië's vision again, are you?"

"Indeed, Master Kíli," said Tauriel. "Not long before you returned, my daughter specified that you would come back and save her sister."

"But we have no idea what he's going to save me from!" Tilda cried with exasperation as she walked over to pass her sister to Tauriel. "For goodness' sake, it could be something as simple as a runaway horse—there is nothing at all to indicate that leaving this apartment will lead me to any danger."

"We don't know that it won't, either," Kíli pressed. "Mamarlûna, please, do as your father says."

"Will you still come and visit?"

He smiled. "Of course. Nowhere else I'd rather be."

-…-

After dinner that evening, as they walked back through the Citadel and down to their inn, Kíli knew that something was on Balin's mind. Once again, his elder cousin followed him into his room.

"So… 'She who is loved'?"

"Shut it, Bal," Kíli grumbled as he removed his sword belt. He hadn't meant to let that slip, but once it had… It just felt right to call her that.

The other dwarf grinned. "It's a lovely choice for an endearment, cousin," said he. "Though I'm sure you know that your One will eventually ask you what it means."

"And I'll be glad to tell her, when she's ready to hear it," Kíli replied.

Balin frowned. "When she's ready? Whatever do you mean—what happened to asking to court her? Surely you were not blind to her concern for you, lad—if that's not indication enough that she cares for you, I don't know what else you could possibly want for a sign."

Kíli sighed. "It's not that. You're right in that I could see more of her feelings this morning—and believe me, I am overjoyed to know she cares for me. When the timing is right, I will speak to Tilda and tell her she's the One I have been waiting for."

"I am glad to hear you say so, though I'd like to know why you still hesitate if you are sure she's your One. What do you mean by 'when the time is right'?" Balin asked.

"It's the vision of Túrelië's," Kíli replied as he sat to pull off his boots. "I can't shake the feeling that it's this huge hammer hanging over our heads. You remember that Tauriel said her predictions always come true? I asked her about that this evening, and she said that Elrond believes that while such gifts are rare, that one has manifested so early in a peredhil child—a half-elven child—means the gift is a powerful one and should not be dismissed lightly."

He sighed again and looked down at his hands. "I'm worried, Bal. Bard and Tauriel are worried, too. The queen said this is the most dire future event Túrelië's predicted so far, and given the timing, she believes that whatever is going to happen will happen before we leave the city."

Balin moved to the chair that sat before the fireplace and turned it to face him, then sat, leaning forward as he asked, "Did Tauriel give any indication the babe has revealed anymore than that you will save Tilda?"

Kíli shook his head. "She did say she tried to glean more information, but all Túrelië will say is that everything will be okay, because I save her. It's the not knowing that kills me, Balin. We don't know the danger we're facing, a danger that will take Tilda away from me. We don't know what she will suffer while we're apart, or whether she will come back damaged or unscathed. I've waited so long to finally have my One in my life, to know the joy of my kinsmen. I know that I considered denying Mahal's will because of her youth, but this connection—this need for her—can't be ignored. I already know that Tilda is my everything. I can't lose her."

Drawing a breath, Balin said, "Well, we know that whatever happens, you're going to save her. Hold onto that laddie. Know that, as the wee one said, everything will be well because you save her."

-…-

"Please, Tauriel!"

Tilda hated that she had to beg, but both her father and stepmother—not to mention Kíli and Balin—had been adamant about her remaining in the family's quarters until they were ready to leave. Departure was scheduled for the following morning, but she felt stifled having been made to stay indoors for the last three days.

While her father was in a final meeting with Turgon and his heir, Tauriel had been tasked with seeing to the family's packing. Of course, the few servants that had joined them on this journey were managing that, so the real reason Tauriel had remained was not only to watch over the children, but to watch over her.

It was maddening. She wasn't a little girl anymore.

"Can you not at least wait until Kíli and Balin come to go out?" Tauriel said. "I'd feel much better about breaking your father's edict if you had more than one escort."

"How can I buy a gift for someone if they are with me?" Tilda countered as she crossed her arms.

Tauriel's eyebrows rose and the corners of her mouth twitched. "You mean to surprise one of our friends with a gift?"

Tilda fought to keep the blush creeping up her neck from filling her cheeks. "Why shouldn't I? They have been so kind to me, and poor Kíli had to put up with being jailed for two hours because of Denethor's little tantrum the other day."

Tauriel inclined her head in agreement, then tilted it as she studied her. "This is about more than repaying their kindness, isn't it?"

The blush could no longer be contained, and filled with no small amount of embarrassment, Tilda turned away from her. The elf stepped up beside her at the window and touched her shoulder as she said, "Please share what's on your mind. You know I'll not judge you."

Tilda scoffed, though still could not meet the other female's gaze. "You might not say it, but I'm sure you'll still think me foolish."

Tauriel smiled. "Never, in all the years I have known you, iell nín, have I ever thought you foolish."

As Tilda worried her bottom lip between her teeth, Tauriel ventured to say, "I cannot say I'm surprised you are falling for him. He is handsome, virile, strong, protective—and amusing, when he chooses to be. These are traits any intelligent female would be attracted to. And considering how attentive he has been to you in our time here, I think it safe to say that Kíli returns your regard."

At this Tilda did look up. "Do you not think it awkward, though? You loved each other once, and now…"

Tauriel drew a breath and sighed. "Kíli and I cared for each other, yes, but though our souls touched, the two did not become one. They weren't meant to. And to paraphrase his own words, it matters not to me who brings him happiness so long as he is happy. From the day he was returned to us, I have wished Kíli the joy and healing your father's love has given me. If he finds it with you, Tilda, then I know he will be doubly blessed. Yours is a purer soul than most, and if I may say so, I do believe your gentle, caring nature would be the perfect foil to his recklessness."

Tilda smiled at the sentiment. "But what if you're wrong and he doesn't think of me in that way? What if he feels I'm too young? And what about…" She paused, swallowed against the lump that suddenly formed in her throat. "Do you remember the first night they were here, what he and Balin said when they spoke of the marriages of their kinsmen? Dwarves believe in the One—that before they are even born, their Maker has already chosen their perfect mate. I just… I have this feeling, deep down, that Kíli is waiting for his. After all, both his brother and his uncle found their One. Even gruffy old Dwalin found his One. If I'm not the One for Kíli… I'm just so afraid, Tauriel, that I'll only end up with my heart broken."

"Have you told Kíli how you feel?"

"Nay, I've not had the courage," Tilda replied sheepishly.

"And has it not occurred to you that he may be just as afraid as you are?" Tauriel pressed. She smiled softly when Tilda's eyes widened in disbelief. "Dearest, Kíli has already been disappointed once, remember? No doubt he fears being disappointed again—just as you worry he will think you too young, he may fear that you think him too old. He may fear that you don't even like dwarves well enough to consider marriage to one."

She lifted her hand to caress Tilda's cheek, and smiled as she said, "I cannot say if you are Kíli's One—only he can tell you that. What I can tell you is that there is definitely something between you. How strong that bond will grow depends, I think, on how willing you both are to take the chance of finding out."

Tilda slipped her arms about Tauriel's waist and embraced her. "Thank you, Tauriel. I think a part of me just needed to hear you say it was okay to like him. I didn't want it to be weird between us because I have feelings for your old boyfriend."

The elf laughed heartily as she returned the embrace, then stepped back and said, "Tilda, I could not be happier for you. If time proves that you and Kíli are meant to be together, I will most gladly celebrate your union."

She then took another step back and said, "Your father won't like it, but you may go. Take Carr along with you as well, and promise me that you will be vigilant."

Tilda nodded solemnly. "I will, I promise. And thank you—I really hope giving him a gift will be a good thing. And maybe I'll find something for his kin while I'm out. Is it not customary for visitors to come bearing gifts?"

Tauriel grinned. "In many lands, it is. You'd better hurry, for it will not be very long before Kíli and Balin come to call."

With a girlish squeal of delight, Tilda spun around and headed for her bedchamber. There she took her reticule form her trunk and bid her maid to follow. Erina went along almost as happy as she to be going out for fresh air.

Outside their quarters, Tilda gave Tauriel's instructions that Carr was to join Tormen as escort and the group set off. She decided that instead of walking, she would take her horse, and led the way toward the royal stables. When the four were mounted, Tilda led them down the road at a leisurely pace.

Though it took some time to get there, she found that she didn't much mind taking the winding path to the lower levels from horseback, and she could more enjoy the majestic architecture as the horses plodded along. Tilda had a specific destination in mind—the booth where she'd bought a belt buckle for Bofur five years ago. Balin had pointed out to her that it was still there during a previous trip to the market level, and it made her smile to think that she would be making another purchase there for another of her favorite dwarves.

When at last they arrived and she approached the table, the dark-haired dwarf behind it cried out with joy. "Well, bless my beard, if it isn't the little girl of yesteryear—my how you have grown, lassie! Your friend the white-haired dwarf come by a while back. Did ye come ta get something for 'im?"

Tilda smiled. "Not specifically, though if I see something I think he'd like, I will certainly take it," she replied warmly. "I am actually hoping to find gift for someone rather a bit closer to my heart."

A twinkle came into the fellow's eye. "He's a dwarf isn't he, your lad? I bet he is—I remember how Princess Rejna said you'd make a fine mate for one of our kin."

Her smile grew. "I certainly hope so."

Erina then grabbed her attention with a light tug on her sleeve. "Begging your pardon, Princess, but I've spied a gown through the shop window I'd like to have a closer look at. May I go in?"

"Of course! But don't tarry too long—I don't want to get my stepmother into too much trouble for letting me out of my gilded cage."

"Thank you, Princess! I'll only be a moment," her maid replied before dashing over to the shop door and heading inside.

"A princess, are ye?" said the dwarf in the booth.

Tilda looked back to find him assessing her with one eyebrow raised. "I wasn't when first you met me, sir. My father was made King of Dale a few years back, which by default made me a princess."

The other bushy eyebrow joined the first near to the fellow's hairline. "Och, it be yer adad what killed the dragon?"

Tilda nodded, and proudly declared, "Killed a dragon, rebuilt a city, and bartered peace between dwarves, elves, and Men. Da's too humble to think so, but I daresay he deserved to be crowned King."

The dwarf grinned. "I do not doubt it, lassie, if he's done all that. Now, let's find ye something for that special friend of yours."

There was, as before, a rather wide range of items to choose from. She didn't want a belt buckle for Kíli, nor did she think a brooch quite right. A cloak clasp, perhaps? she wondered. Or something for his hair, maybe? He likes to keep it mostly out of his face.

Her eyes alighted on a small silver cylinder set with two light blue gemstones and etched with a geometric pattern, and she picked it up to examine it more closely. At the same moment, there was a loud commotion behind her, and Tilda turned just in time to watch Carr slump to the ground.

Blood poured from the gash across his throat.

Tormen fought with a man covered head-to-toe in dark clothing. A second, similarly garbed man—clearly the one who had attacked her brother's bodyguard—now turned his attention to her. Tilda drew her breath to scream for help when suddenly she was grabbed from behind and a foul-smelling cloth was held over her nose and mouth. Dizziness overwhelmed her, and the last thing she saw before darkness claimed her was Tormen getting stabbed in the back.

Khuzdul:

mamarlûna - she who is/was loved

mim uzbadnâtha - little princess (lit. "little king's daughter")