Thorin tilted his head in acknowledgement of the hospitality of the Eastern King, who sat before him. He was a thin, tall man, apparently wearing many yards of rich silk beneath his ceremonial armour, and strange curled slippers to match. But then the heat in the lands beyond Rhun was so exceedingly unbearable, that he too wished he could swap his heavy boots for such fancy, breathable footwear.
"It would be a fair share of Thrors horde, your Grace," Gandalf nodded sincerely, nudging Thorin shut when he grunted his displeasure at the prospect. "Lord Balin here has drawn up the contract -"
"Five percent of the horde seems rather miniscule considering the Crown Prince will be taking a large part of my army to almost certain death, facing a Firedrake!" The ruler waved his arms dismissively. "I do not expect most of my men to return. And you would be marrying one of my own daughters!"
"But she would be Queen -"
"I am not some young virgin to be hoodwinked! I am the Maharajah of Rhun-Agar!" He growled in irritation. "Your people will reject her, and you will take another wife or mistress, once my daughter has given you an heir."
"What is it that you wish for then, your Grace?" Thorin interrupted Gandalf, attempting to keep his own tone calm, and his face neutral.
"One fifteenth."
Thorin stared for a moment at the Maharajah, suppressing the frown that threatened to break.
"I would only claim a thirteenth of the share myself-"
"Then how will I compensate the men who return, or their families when they do not?" The Maharajah spoke passionately. "Or look after my daughter when you are done with her in your bed?"
"No female, wed to the King of Erebor, would ever want for anything!" Thorin growled back in reply. "What if she does not give me an heir? It would be not unheard of -"
Balin gently placed his hand on Thorins shoulder, silently reminding him to temper his tongue. Thorin nodded very slightly, accepting his advisor and friends advice. He was not wrong, they needed this army at least in the first few months.
"My children are not barren. My daughter's mother bore me twin sons after I bedded her only once." The Maharajah proclaimed proudly. "You see I had seven wives by then already. And little patience for a younger inexperienced bride. But our women only get better with age, particularly where it matters the most!"
The Maharajah laughed at his own lewd joke although the others only managed a forced chuckle in politeness towards their host.
"Do not forget that you too are rather old, and it is more likely any inability to conceive is a flaw related to you!" The eastern man spoke in his unusual accent, and a dismissive manner, almost as though he expected such a fate in Thorins case.
"Perhaps, we may need to discuss this further..." Gandalf glanced over to Balin and then Thorin, something which the latter found irritating!
"Balin, where is Dwalin?" Thorin whispered leaning in.
"Outside seeing to the ponies."
"His opinion would also help, here..." Thorin snapped.
"Thorin, you do not need Dwalin to see that we need this army," Gandalf attempted to reason. "We can offer to pay the sum in divided fees. Once he sees that his daughter is happy, he will relinquish any further payment, I am sure of it."
"I do not trust him. What if the daughter in question is one he wishes rid of...?" Thorin curled his lip at the prospect of marriage to an ugly wench. He had his fill of rounded dams with their ample bosoms and their luscious hips, that could take a thorough seeing to - with the vigour that he quite liked to dish out. There was plenty of ripe fruit in their modest settlement of Ered Luin for the taking. So surely if he became King under the Mountain, the lasses would be lining themselves up just to spend a single night in his bedchambers! "Must I marry his daughter? Perhaps just the gold alone will suffice...?"
"Och laddie, that will not be looked upon kindly...he has offered you his hospitality and his army in return: the gold is probably nothing for the greatest King of the East, ruling over the largest city this side of Arda." Balin explained brushing his fluffy white beard. "No, he requests an ally. And the marriage would act as a true union between kingdoms-"
"I must speak with Dwalin." Thorin made to get up, but Balin was quick to slip away instead, leaving him to discuss things with Gandalf.
...
Dwalin sat under a tree by the gathering of their three ponies and the Wizards tall horse. The beasts had already grazed plenty, and now drank water from the large trough set out for them.
The ruler of Rhun-Agar had received the comparison of being similar to Thror in his love of riches, but it was clear that he also used it to better the welfare of his citizens: there were many trees here, despite the naturally arid lands, and now Dwalin realised it was because of their very sophisticated watering systems! There were many fruit trees that adorned the great city also. And none of her people looked unhappy, unclean or abjectly poor.
He carefully unwrapped a handkerchief with several pieces of dried venison and apricot, satisfied that he would gain enough provisions for the journey back from the ruler here.
Just as he observed his little treat, barely containing his salivation, a worn leather ball knocked the contents of his hand over.
"Oi!" He growled, half wishing he could stab the silly ball! "Who threw that!"
"Oh my lord! Forgive me Sir! The young children were playing -" a young woman stepped over, bearing a gentle smile. "if you will permit us our ball..."
Dwalin frowned at the slip of a lass. He could only hope that Thorin fared better in the woman he was proposed .
"Why are the younglings out? They should be in school should they bog!" Dwalin grunted looking up at her to find she wore brightly coloured silk clothes. They were too elaborate to be associated with a school or orphanage and instead imagined she must have been from the palace itself.
"Sir, they are the orphaned children. This is most fun they get -"
Dwalin growled at her angrily, looking from the ball to the young woman, when he caught a glimpse of her big brown eyes. They were pretty, decorated in that black paint, they wore here, but filled with mischief! It made him look at her again!
She was young, perhaps only just of marriageable age for men, and very slim, and taller than other women from the east. Her skin was darker than many of the other women they had seen here also. But she was dressed elaborately indeed, in a deep pink pair of baggy trousers, as was customary here, but her top was rather short in comparison, baring much more of her toned abdomen than he had seen on others. The material of her clothes was richly embellished with embroidery in fine gold and sparkling jewel like pieces of glass. Even the necklaces she wore had small rubies studded in them!
There was something a little wild about her, with her long raven hair cascading down her back but for two sections pulling it back from her face.
She was too young for his taste, but there was something about her. She was certainly no ordinary woman from the city!
"So, who are ye really?" He grunted holding the ball, refusing to return it just yet.
"I am just a humble servant, who looks after the children from the orphanage..." She bowed her head elegantly. "Please my lord will you kindly return the children their ball, and I shall give you a snack to replace what you have lost..."
"Och aye?" Dwalin raised an eyebrow, with a chuckle. "Do ye go around offering many men snacks too eh?"
"What? It is just something to replace what they kicked out of your hand..." She pointed out frowning, clearly his lewd insult had been lost on her.
"So do lasses who work here dress as well as ye all the time?" He smirked looking at her again.
"Oh! This old thing?!" She exclaimed in an all too well rehearsed tone, as though she had been caught out. "It's our Sunday best - you know, since we have some sort of Prince... Or Duke, or important person and his stuffy old fuddy duddy crew visiting..."
Her words wiped the smirk off his face, as he realised she had just repaid his insult back.
"My Princess..." A small voice called up, as a little boy had arrived to her rescue as the other children still huddled together further behind, watching anxiously. "Are you in need of assistance, my lady..."
The little boy, clutched at her pantaloons, looking up at her, but somewhat bravely holding a toy sword made of crudely fashioned sticks tied together with twine. He pointed it towards Dwalin, and scowled.
"Ah! My brave knight! Thank you, but I think this good Lord from far afield will give us our ball back, very soon?" She smiled at Dwalin hopefully. "I mean how could you say no to such a brave knight as this? It must be in your Warrior code of honour right?"
She patted the little boys shoulders gently, as he clutched at her again, and smiled up at Dwalin.
It was a disarming smile. The sort that would have easily moved his father, or Thror, or Thrain for that matter.
"Why would ye say I am a warrior?" Dwalin looked down at the ball again. "And how can I be certain ye will not forget to return with some food, eh, Princess?"
She turned to the children, out of the group an older child, ran towards another tree where they had put their things together and brought forward a shiny metal container, in side which was a small wrapped parcel, and gave it to her.
Slowly she walked over to him, the little lad following behind and still holding his wooden sword pointed at Dwalin. And then she offered him the tin.
"They are the sweetest dates you will find in all of Middle Earth..." She offered them up again, urging him to take it.
So he offered the little boy his ball.
"Here ye go master swordsman..."
The boy looked up at Dwalin surprised before taking the ball and rushing back to his waiting peers. It made Dwalin smile, as he fondly recalled a time when their lives were filled with the laughter of Fili and Kili as younglings.
She stood watching him as he scrutinised the food, unwrapping it and sniffing it. Then finally he picked one of the sticky brown pieces out and popped it in his mouth. It began to melt on his tongue, oozing with sweetness. It was sweeter than anything he had ever tasted before!
"Och aye -" he grunted.
But before he could thank her an older woman had come out to find her, speaking harshly in her own language, and frowning at him, before chastising her further.
"Your father will be cross if you go gallivanting off again while he expects your presence in court!" The older woman chastised her again before turning to the children. "Go back home or you will get her in trouble again! Oh la la la! Look at your clothes, they are all messy!"
"Who cares, they are here for Nandita."
"Then why would he request your presence...?!" The older woman scolded the young woman again.
"Ugh" she scowled as the woman began to pull her away.
"Princess..." Dwalin grunted, bowing his head, hiding a faint smile as he watched her being pulled away, to which she shrugged her shoulders and smiled again.
"Brother! Ah! There you are!" Balin called out as he approached the tree where Dwalin stood. He was out of breath, his pink cheeks contrasting against his fluffy white beard.
"How's it going in there? Donnae tell me he's fecked it up..."
"Och no! But it's not going great..." Balin panted a moment again. " He wants ye in there brother. He's not keen on marrying the lassie..."
"Well has he seen her yet?!" Dwalin grunted in dispair. The truth was they had ALL been bachelors with benefits for FAR too long!
"Nooo! None of us have!"
"Och! Well... Come on... I think there will be one he will certainly fancy if I know anything of his tastes!"
...
Dwalin and Balin arrived to watch Thorin as he looked at the young woman seated beside the Eastern Lord.
She was fair and short, of slim build. Her nose was sharp, and her mouth wide, with full lips. The woman blushed looking down at first before lifting her hazel eyes up to meet Thorins scrutinising gaze.
She wasn't ugly by any means, in fact, she would have been considered very beautiful for a dam, with similar features, even if she had no beard. But Thorin, whilst managing a polite smile and bow, let out a very quiet sigh.
"My third daughter, Nandita," the Maharajah announced proudly. "She can weave so beautifully, in fact many of our tapestries in the hall are made by her own hands. And her voice is unparalleled in Rhun-Agar. There are many who seek her hand, but I will honour you, Prince Thorin..."
"I am honoured, your Lordship.." Thorin began. "As the Queen consort of Erebor, she would be required to speak, to our people..."
"She certainly is skilled in learning languages fast, but public speaking is skill that is easily learned, wouldn't you say?"
Thorin grunted something to Dwalin, who replied back silently, and Gandalf frowned at the two of them, embarrassed by their debate about the woman right in front of her.
The Princess herself, appeared to lose her smile as she watched them clearly debating over her silently.
"Your daughter is very beautiful, and highly prized, but is she the only one of marriageable age -"
But before Thorin could finish, they were all interrupted by the arrival of several princely looking tall, young men, behind whom walked in the younger woman that Dwalin had met earlier.
She was too preoccupied whispering to one of the Princes to have noticed them at first. And it was not until they all came to stand in a set order behind the raised seats occupied by the Maharajah and his daughter, that she spotted Dwalin in the group.
Her eyes widened in horror as she realised who exactly she had been talking to!
But the Maharajah interrupted their discussion to greet his sons. Their sister waited behind them, until their father had spent time properly greeting them each, falling into lengthy discussion, friendly chatter mixed in with intermittent laughter.
It gave Thorin the chance to turn towards Gandalf angrily.
"Gandalf, this is not working," Thorin whispered harshly. "I cannot marry that woman..."
"The marriage is more important than the money you would pay him if you succeed-"
"It's well enough for him to say, he is fleecing me!"
"If you marry his daughter, and produce an heir, he will almost certainly waive any further payment," Gandalf reminded him sternly. "And you have little choice, since none have answered your call to arms..."
"And what makes you think an army from the east will succeed against a dragon?" Thorin hissed sceptically.
"They have fought off their own beasts successfully: There are far older and fouler things that creep in hidden places on middle earth," Gandalf warned ominously. "But it is not only the dragon you must worry of, once it is driven away, there may be others who attack, drawn by the need for gold. You will need an army for that too."
"Besides which none will accept you as true King under the Mountain, unless you have an heir, laddie. It's in Thrors contract." Balin added solemnly. "And Fili will not count. The other dwarves will not respect your rule, even with the Arkenstone."
Thorin growled in frustration. This was not a situation he wanted to be in.
"Och Thorin, they're all pretty lasses..."
"Then YOU marry one!" Thorin snapped at Dwalin.
"Well... Can ye choose which one?" Dwalin suddenly asked Gandalf.
The wizard looked at the dwarf warrior puzzled.
"But there are NO other daughters..." Thorin began looking at the group angrily, his voice threatening to sound loud enough to be overheard by their hosts.
But Balin had already observed what Dwalin was hinting at, and a gradual smile lit up his face.
"Actually laddie, there is another lass..." Balin patted his shoulder to garner his attention.
Thorin carefully looked at the large group gathered, spotting the woman, who stood at the back, attempting to almost hide herself from view. She was younger and thinner than he liked his women, but childbearing often fixed that.
"She is younger than I would care for..."
"Och aye, but she IS beautiful..." Balin whispered.
"But she may be inexperienced, and I do not know if I will have time to be patient with her..."
"Look at her Thorin! Donnae tell me she doesn't get yer thing up?!" Dwalin mocked Thorin. They had known each other for as long as they could hold training swords. And he knew his friend enough to believe this might just work. "And she is tall and would look fine beside you..."
Thorin thought for a moment. He would be lying if he claimed he didn't find her very attractive indeed, but what about everything else.
"What if she is boring...?"
"I promise ya - she will not be." Dwalin grinned, sure his friend would accept his recommendation for now, until he explained things later. "Do ye trust me baheluh?"
"Aye..." Thorin finally replied after some hesitation, wondering what made him so certain. "Very well..."
Thorin turned to Gandalf, who was now acutely aware of the predicament of asking the Maharajah whether he would give away his youngest daughter.
"And you are certain of this?" Gandalf frowned looking carefully at the future King under the Mountain. Dwarves indeed had a One, but he was not sure whether Thorin felt this way about the girl or not, and there was a danger of all failing if he changed his mind once more. There were many challenges to face before he could place Thorin on Thrors Throne, and how the crown prince would face these was a true worry, the dragon sickness was among these.
Thorin nodded sincerely. She was certainly enough for now.
"Then leave the talking to me. This will need to be handled with some degree of delicacy and tact. And most certainly with a significant amount of charm..." The wizard winked at the three dwarves.
It was almost as though he knew they would be approached as Gandalf stood, the Maharajah walked over to them.
"Why make any decisions on an empty stomach eh?" He stood tall and patted Thorin on the back.
"Aye Thorin! Would be rude not te eh?"
"Yes... I think we are all famished, and tired. We have made a very long journey." Gandalf smiled as the Maharajah came to stand beside the wizard. "Would you...?"
"Ah not at all Gandalf! We were going to pull out the pipes after luncheon," he gestured as they led the way, followed by Dwalin, Thorin and Balin, each taking as much chance to sneak a subtle glimpse at the woman as she took the arm of one of the Princes, whom they imagined to be her brother.
The three dwarves looked at one another, falling behind Gandalf and their host.
"So Arun, how have you been? I see your youngest daughter has grown into fine young lady now... I recall when she was a little girl - she loved my fireworks... "
They heard Gandalf speak fondly as the two walked ahead.
Thorin and Dwalin both silently looked over to Balin, both clear on their request to him.
"Aye lads," Balin sighed, frankly a little fed up of it all. They had been searching for a bride for Thorin since the first year that they settled in Ered Luin with little success. "I shall sit close and see what I can learn about the lass."
The Maharajah had hosted a grand feast for lunch, and although famished, Thorin had found his appetite hindered by his anxiety over the matter of this marriage.
The wizard and Balin were both right, they needed the army, but with each subtle glance at the youngest daughter of their host, he found the prospect of marriage to her older sister more and more unbearable.
And so once the feast had ended, he had been grateful for Balins return to join them both.
"The Maharajah has known Gandalf for many years now." Balin began, much to Thorins irritation. Given he would have to bed whichever daughter was given in marriage to him, his patience was exceedingly limited! "And she is very much his most favoured daughter. He doesnt say as much, but it is clear in how he speaks of her. I am gathering she is also a free spirit -"
"Aren't we all - that is until we have to agree to these bonds!" Thorin grunted.
"Aye, but he doesn't seem happy to part with her - of course Gandalf has not asked directly."
Thorin fell silent, ready to call off any such agreement.
"But don't despair yet laddie, there is one thing - the Maharajah is worried for the future of his kingdom. He fears the smaller tribes have been mounting some sort of attack. He doesn't speak of it much but he seems to have had several attempts on his life and a few attempts at kidnapping his daughters." Balin explained, his voice become quieter still. "And he is marrying his daughters off for political allegiances."
"So it maybe possible.." Dwalin peeked over at Gandalf again as he chatted with their host.
Everyone sat on soft cushions chatting and smoking, as gentle music played and a woman sang a soulful tune filled with strange notes strung together in an entirely different language.
"Well, it's all in the hands of the wizard now..."
...
Notes:
This is a yet another Thorin and Shobha story.
But they are quite different, Shobha is much younger and naive, Thorin is also older, set in his ways, and much more self-centred. It's sort of an arranged marriage, so they don't entirely like each other to start with.
And it jumps from pre-quest, to when they get to Lake Town and on with the quest.
It's a test work, I have written a few chapters, but depending on interest will carry on.. so please let me know your thoughts …