Author's Note: And here we are, the final chapter. On behalf of my co-writer and myself I would like to thank you all for coming along for the ride. We hope you enjoyed this AU as much as we loved writing it.

Chapter 36

The presentation of Her Royal Highness, Torunn, Firstborn of King Thorin and Princess of Erebor was the biggest event since the double wedding. Though not a son and therefore not in line for the throne over Crown Prince Fili, she was still the first child born to the King and Queen and therefore it was a grand celebration.

The royals of all the neighbouring kingdoms were invited. Dain, Lord of the Iron Hills, came with his triplet girls and his son. Prince Legolas came to represent Eryn Galen, his father unfortunately unable to come due to some unavoidable business with the Kingdom of Lothlórien. The Steward of Gondor, Ecthelion II, came, much to everyone's surprise. King Thendel of Rohan came. Lord Bard of Dale came with his own daughter Sigrid.

As was the custom with Royal Presentation of Children, gifts were given and the royal guests were announced and called forward to make their own presentations of gifts in due and proper order. Which never failed to offend most of them, all of them considering themselves the most important guests in attendance.

King Thendel presented the Princess with a herd of her own horses bred from the finest stock in Rohan. Prince Legolas, on behalf of his father, presented the Princess with seven saplings of silver beech trees from Eryn Galen, one for each of the stars of Durin. Steward Ecthelion II presented the Princess with a stack of the finest illuminated books and scrolls to aid in her future education.

Laraga, ever grateful to all, smiled and examined each gift as it was given. She remarked on the notable lineage of the herd, the lovely foliage of the saplings which would now adorn the garden, and the gorgeous illuminations of the books. And she glowed as all her feelings in this were truly honest.

Dale boasted a population of craftsmen unparalleled in the breadth of their goods. Amongst those trades was a famous guild of toymakers. And, as this was a baby's presentation, Lord Bard and his family gifted the little princess with a chest of finely made toys.

The Dúnedain Ranger Orla was announced and she gave a shallow bow to the proud parents.

"My greetings to King Thorin and Queen Laraga," she said, then ignored protocol to step up before the cradle itself. The guards tensed but Thorin held up his hand. Orla of the Dúnedain was a hero to his kingdom and he trusted that whatever customs of her people she was honouring would cause no harm.

Orla reached down to catch the baby's little hand, "And my greetings to you, Princess Torunn."

The Dúnedain spoke to their infants and children as if they were adults, knowing children understood more than adults necessarily thought they would. So she told the infant princess herself, "I do not have trees or horses or books or toys to give you. But my gift to you is the greatest that one of the Dúnedain may give. I give you the gift of safety. I and my clan and my people will protect you throughout your life as it is needed. We will protect you and defend you and your life and your happiness. If you have need of us, we will come. This is my gift to you, witnessed by Laraga your mother and Thorin your father."

She bent down and kissed the baby's brow.

"You honour us, Lady Orla," the queen told her guest with a beaming smile. Well did Laraga know that the promises of the Dúnedain were not made lightly or broken easily. Her child would be very safe indeed. And after everything that had happened, safety and peace was the best gift of all.

"You're not going to crush him, just be careful."

"He's so small."

"Definitely felt big enough on the way out."

Dwalin sat next to his wife on their bed. She was resting back against the pillows watching her husband hold their son.

"What are we going to call him?"

"Glaenin," she said quietly, reaching to stroke the infant's round cheek. "Born of the storm and sea, he's a gift from Ulmo Himself."

Her son. The labour had been hard. The midwives had feared for her, she knew, being so small, but finally after hours she had been able to rest as her son screamed his way into existence. Even if he didn't grow to become a sailor or a pirate, she wanted to name him for the youth she had been, to keep her past with her. It was a good name and he would do good things with it.

And with Jarren Calder, Eorl of Rohan, and Smaug Drake gone, she trusted that he would have a childhood, years of stealing apples and scraping his knees and getting dirty in the gardens and giving her grubby handfuls of flowers ripped from the ground. Years of riding on his father's shoulders and learning how to sail on the family yacht and causing chaos in the court.

She could breathe. She was safe. Her nightmares were only nightmares now and she could be happy. She pressed a kiss to her husband's burly shoulder and breathed in the strange feeling of real and true happiness.

They brought their baby to the palace within the month, for official reasons and also so the two fathers could goodnaturedly argue in private over which baby was the cutest. The King hosted them for another private dinner and the friends relaxed with good food and better company. Glaes had healed some from her terror in the deep and she made some joke about finding court boring now that all the excitement was over, she might have to run away and turn pirate again to have any fun.

"Alright," Thorin said, looking up at her, "Become a privateer instead."

Glaes stared at him for a solid few seconds, "Pardon?"

"You heard me just fine," Thorin said, "Be a pirate, but for Erebor instead of for Drake. Your own ship if you want it, your own crew, commission, full permission from me to give Hell if you come across any raiding ships. Freedom, courtesy of the crown."

Glaes' mouth worked as she realised he was serious. She had to say something. She couldn't find words. This was more than she had ever hoped. She had told Smaug Drake in his cabin that the King had offered her commission and a ship of her own but that had been a bluff, carefully chosen for how it would prick at his pride and make him want to possess her himself instead of seeing her privateer for Erebor. She had never thought it would happen for true. Her hand fluttered towards her husband, looking for his support, the anchor of his strength as she looked at the king that was offering her her freedom.

"That sounds just like ye, darlin'," Dwalin said, taking her hand. "And, it just so happens that I had Drake's ship moored in our harbour. Since I didn't know what tae do with it. She could be yers now. And the boys."

He could see it now. Glaes taking the season to hunt pirates with her lads, the pirate boys that had made Balin's home theirs and begged to sail with the Commodore's wife they had known as one of their fellow pirates. Eventually she would take turns with their birth children when they became old enough to go. Flipping from one ship to another every other season. Winters here at home.

Laraga smiled a beaming smile. Her husband was so smart, she couldn't have thought of a better idea.

Glaes' head snapped around to her husband, "You didn't sink the Dragon?"

She had thought... She had expected, really, that he would see her on the bottom of the harbour after her previous captain had…

She looked back at the King, "You're serious? She...she could be mine?"

Thorin frowned at her, trying to understand the strange emotion in her eyes, "Yes. Who else would I choose to captain her?"

She burst into tears. Tears she didn't fully understand but came welling up anyway. Worried yet touched beyond belief, Dwalin pulled his darling into a hug. Over her head he smiled at the king, and was damn happy to call him a friend.

"I think that is a yes," he told him. Then he looked down at his weeping spouse. "I hadn't the mind tae deal with it myself. Too much went on. And then, once ye were back, I figured it would be an excellent gift tae celebrate our new bairn."

"I could take it," Glaes hiccuped into his chest, "And turn it into a better ship with better memories where the boys wouldn't have to be scared and there would be no mean officers looking to hurt them. They could heal from what that ship did to them and...and…"

The rigging rats that had turned mutiny against the officers on the Crimson Dragon had been taken in without a second thought. Glaenin wasn't her first son, he had a crew of brothers that flourished under the love and care Glaes and Dwalin gave them and she loved them all so fiercely.

And they were standing ready on the deck when Micoz blew his whistle and announced, "Captain on deck!"

The carpenters had done a beautiful job repairing the damage from the fight. Glaes, carrying her baby on her back, dressed once again in breeches and boots, slowly turned a circle taking in the ship. Her ship.

Polished wood, fresh lines, crisp white canvas. The brass accents gleamed. Dwalin watched her with a smile as the tears rose slowly in her eyes. She slowly crossed to touch the mast, her hand running along the wood carefully. She fingered the knots securing the lines. Her ship.

She wandered the deck, her hand smoothing along the railing, reaching up to tangle her fingers for a moment in the ratlines. Slowly, one step at a time, she climbed to the quarterdeck. The sailor at the helm stepped back so she could run her hands lovingly over the wood of the wheel, feeling every spoke and caressing every handle. Her ship.

The snap of the flag brought her gaze up to where her colours proudly flew. A blue field, a white lady's shoe stepping on a crimson dragon. The Beheaded Dragon was hers.

A wind rose from the sea, wrapping around her and her head turned to the horizon, the call of the sea singing in her blood. She was free, she could have it all, she could be lady and mother and pirate and captain all at once. She could do anything. No one could ever tame her. Those men that tried had paid for it with their lives. She was free. She was free.

Glaes smiled.

END