Chapter Forty-Six: Dain
T.A. 2941 Ered Luin
Dain sighs heavily as he listens to Thorin's proposal for Erebor. He wants to support his cousin, longs to help ease the burdens on him since Smaug drove Durin's folk from the mountain. He can't. Dain has learnt from first-hand experience what it costs to follow the half-formed plans of Thror's line. Khazad-Dum cost the Iron Hills too many soldiers, took Dain's father, cost him his leg. He doesn't blame Thorin. His cousin lost just as much, more really, but Dain can't afford to follow his lead as Nain followed Thror's, not without something more than a vague promise.
"I'm sorry, cousin," he says, and he means it. "I truly am. I can't give you my support. I won't ask my people to face a dragon." He had remained silent while the other dwarf lords denied his cousin aid and departed. Now it is his turn and his refusal tastes of ashes in his throat.
"If I had the Arkenstone," Thorin snarls.
"But you don't," Dain interrupts, "and until you do you won't find anyone willing to face the dragon for you."
"And that's all you have to say?" Thorin asks him. "You won't help us."
"We gave you what help we could a hundred and seventy years ago," Dain says, "and again near on thirty years later. We learnt our lesson then." Thorin gets to his feet. "Stay cousin, you've a long journey ahead."
He isn't surprised when Thorin marches from the room.
T.A. 2941 Erebor
Dain will happily admit that he's confused. Frankly he hasn't got the first clue what's going on. He arrived expecting a bit of posturing, maybe a skirmish with the tree-shagging pointy-eared fairy King of Mirkwood. He's been spoiling for that particular fight for years, only to have a perfectly nice scuffle ruined by orcs. Filthy bastards ruin everything. Still, one of his goals in life has been to thin the orc population and this is as good an opportunity as any, even if it does mean fighting with Elves. As well as staring the reality of his own mortality in the face. Again.
The day, of course, just gets weirder (which he hadn't thought possible) starting with the mountain dealing with the orc problem and summoning Thorin and culminating with a young dwarf and a halfling (which he has only read about in books and heard rumours of a settlement full of them near the Blue Mountains) wielding some sort of weird magic inside the mountain. The kind of magic that only exists in the stories of Algirk Stonesinger, who apparently isn't the myth Dain had assumed.
"Would someone like to tell me what, in Durin's name, is going on?" He demands as the other halfling and the young dwarf run forward to the unconscious pair. "And you," he turns to Frerin before his cousin can move, "what part of Mahal's scraggly beard did you crawl out of? Last I heard you'd buggered off into the world somewhere without a word."
"It's a long story," Frerin replies, his gaze turning towards the dwarves and hobbits.
"There seems to be a number of those in the making, cousin," Dain mutters. "I'll wager those are Dis' boys, given the resemblance to you and Thorin." He adds, which just goes to show that insanity clearly runs in the entire family. The young ones are waking and being wrapped in warm furs by those who reached them first. "And the halflings?"
"Hobbits," Frerin corrects. "My wife and daughter."
There is definitely an interesting story here, Dain thinks, and he doesn't look likely to get any of it any time soon. Interestingly Thorin is hanging back from the group as Frerin strides past Dain to take hold of his wife and daughter. Dain knows something happened to Thorin inside the mountain. He joined the battle late and the Lord of the Iron Hills can't think of a reason for the situation with Thranduil to have progressed past empty threats. Thorin isn't usually as unreasonable as all that, even where elves are concerned.
"Uncle," the young blond, Fili he remembers, speaks. His voice is hoarse and exhausted, but his eyes are pure mithril. Shame covers Thorin's face. "Are you-? Is it gone? The sickness?"
"It's gone, Kidhuzurâl," Thorin replies. "It's gone and I am myself. But what I did-"
"It doesn't matter," the girl pipes up. "It doesn't, Thorin. We knew it wasn't you. It was the taint left by Smaug, and the Arkenstone. All of this was the Arkenstone."
Dain doesn't want to believe that. The Heart of the Mountain has been a symbol of unity to the seven dwarf lords and their people. That said, Dain has seen miracles today, including a young dwarf whose leg was very nearly severed get back up as hale and whole as he was when he arrived. Whatever was done came too late for the dead, which would have been a miracle too far, but there are those alive now who would have died.
"The mountain is alive, Uncle," the boy continues. "Erebor is alive and we're a part of her now. It was the only way to make sure that she wasn't taken by the orcs, and the only way to save everyone."
"At what cost?" Thorin demands. "At what cost to you and Bluebell, Fili?"
"We paid it willingly," the girl, Bluebell, tells him. He notes, however, that she doesn't actually answer the question. "There was far more at stake than any of us realised on this quest. But it wasn't your fault, or Thror's. It falls on us to fix it, Yavanna and Mahal showed us what was and what we need to do."
"Is that a marriage braid, Fili?" The other young one says, plucking a braid from his brother's hair, one capped with an eerily familiar jewel. The serious discussion derails. Fili flushes, as does the hobbit girl when her mother lifts a similar braid from her hair.
"Looks like one to me, Nathith," Frerin smirks.
"Our Makers wanted to bear witness," Fili mutters. "We couldn't exactly refuse it."
Well. Any objections to the idea of the heir to the throne marrying a hobbit die before Dain can put a voice to them. A marriage sanctioned by Mahal Himself isn't something to be objected to. There are those who will try, of course, Thorin isn't the only one who has had trouble with the more fanatical members of their people. Frankly, however, that's Thorin's problem. Dain will support it, after what he's seen the last couple of hours, he isn't going to risk his neck by going against a dwarf and a hobbit who wear shards of the Arkenstone in their hair.
"This is lovely," he says, "really, it's enough to bring a tear to my eyes and make me want to flounce through the daisies with Thranduil." All eyes turn on him and he hears Frerin snort. His cousin may have abandoned his good sense when he disappeared but at least he hasn't lost his sense of humour. "Would one of you be so kind as to explain?"
That, at least, gets some sheepish looks, especially as Dain can hear more feet approaching. Then there is a clamour of voices and the most ragtag bunch of dwarves Dain has ever laid eyes on surge forward.
"We feared you lost, lad!" One cries loudly enough to be heard over the others.
Thorin, in a moment of either good sense or self-preservation, moves away from the group. In fact, his expression is the gentlest that Dain has seen it in years. Many of his cares, Dain realises, have been eased by regaining the mountain, although there will be many more to come in the months and years ahead.
"Give them a moment," his cousin says. "They have had a trying few days and we truly believed Fili and Bluebell taken from us forever. They will explain but my loyal Company deserve the answers as much as you or I."
"This is all you had with you?" Dain asks, almost horrified. He had hoped Thorin would lead more than fourteen dwarves (sixteen with the hobbits) in the attempt to steal from Smaug.
"Aye," Thorin smiles, "and a more loyal, willing, brave group I couldn't have asked for."
"Dain," Dwalin appears, a sharp-eyed dwarf at his side. They all look the worse for battle but there's something about the blood-spattered auburn-haired dwarf that makes Dain uneasy. "Finally decided to join us, I see."
"Dwalin," Dain shrugs. "You managed well enough."
"No thanks to you," the sharp eyed one mutters.
"Nori," Dwalin warns, squeezing the hand he holds. "He came through when we needed him."
"I'm missing something," Dain admits.
"We both are," Thorin agrees. "When did you two-?"
"While you were busy being a gold-drunk tyrant," Dwalin smiles.
"I am your king," Thorin reminds him, voice deceptively mild.
"Aye," Dain is alarmed to see actual tears in Dwalin's eyes. "Aye you are."
A.N: Yes, Dain went a little Fergus from Brave on me. He had to, and Dwalin and Nori got together, because they deserve some love too