Chapter 58: The Way Forward

Éla paced the library, the councilor's subtle warning on replay which overtook her attention. How could she react? Already threatened with exile, was she expected to submit to foul words with a smile now that she was wed to the king?

She halted mid-stride.

No.

Her sole purpose now was not to react to the conniving persuasions of others. Her skin was thick like a beast's hide, her heart like a diamond. Unbreakable. That's how she was raised after the dragon attack, that's what she knew. Her mother taught her well so she'd never give in to the lows of life so easily after losing her father to the firestorm. Éla swore in quiet exasperation, emotions juggling between anger and upset by years of hard work coming undone over one dwarf. She knew there was no use fighting the councilor or anyone over her position and what was expected of her, Éla only wished for more time. More time to rest without worry or others breathing down her neck, reminding her of her new role to their king.

Head-fast and strong, words should not deter her from a kinder approach, it shouldn't break her. What she needed most was a friend, or an ear offered to listen quietly. She had neither. The community formed among the women in her area was left behind in Ered Luin. She knew plenty of people, friendly patrons through her work but none close enough to confide in. Since her brother's passing and that of her mother shortly after, she'd been alone. Drowning her thoughts in daily tasks had worked for a time but it was never enough to fill the longing void aching through her heart. She drew on Thorin's words, remembering his inquiry about past suitors. While she could've found happiness a lot earlier in life, none of those prospects felt right. It was no fault of their own, or maybe Mahal had willed it so. To steer her towards another path. Never in a hundred years did Éla think she'd find herself falling for an exiled prince now king, though lingering on the thought warmed her aching heart.

Words couldn't describe her feelings fully. What they shared was a binding force so powerful it continued to startle her at the most unlikely of times, even now. It felt electric. Fiery. He was doing everything in his power to keep her safe and content so why did she allow another being to sway her so? Éla already had their king's attention and yet a part of her almost sought out the approval of Falo and the others. The opinions of anyone else shouldn't matter but it did. Deep down it did, given the position she now held. Falo spoke some truth and that realization froze her to the core. Thorin knew it and still went forward with marriage. In time, would he change his mind? Would he seek out a younger dwarrowdam for the promise to sire an heir of his own blood if she could not?

A shaken hand rested under her stomach almost instinctively. She was still in her prime yet the battle's aftermath left her with many unanswered questions. Éla had hoped to speak with Gandalf but he and Bilbo needed to start their journey back to the Shire before the harsh cold winter had settled in the North. For a brief second, she wondered how far their travels took them and if they fared well these last few months on the road. She hoped to see their Hobbit again one day.

While Thorin should've been her primary thought to share her burdens she didn't want to worry him either. Not when they were in the process of making amends. A better solution to compartmentalize feelings proved to be a growing concern. Not every gesture was an attack on her character.

Hands shakily rested on the table, head bowed low. She needed to regain composure but anger had filled her heart first. With a sudden swipe of an arm books were sent flying to the floor in frustration and Éla caught herself from falling, doubling over in pain by the sudden move. Her lower back throbbed from tension a short moment before subsiding. When she was able to move without aid, she lowered to her knees to gather the scattered texts. Sight glazed and on the verge of tears, a hand rose to still weak sobs while stacking the books. She hadn't meant to become a burden to those of The Company, nor for Thorin when they made their moves, dancing around like pieces on a chessboard, interactions always fleeting.

Her own mother would be reeling in her grave had she seen her daughter belittle her own worth and cave to the demands of others so easily. She'd become a lamb among wolves.

Returning the books to their rightful place, Éla wiped away stray tears and took in a deep breath, calming herself. Reading the cover on the bind of the last text made her pause, retrieving it again to add to her basket of belongings. Knowledge was power. This book would help her navigate the basics of society. Thorin gave her the freedom of choice. Falo wanted to take it away. Oh how blind she'd been in her worries! Her father's memory swirled to the forefront of her thoughts as they began to clear. He used to end stories by saying a soldier only became a warrior when he made a show of himself, for your enemies are the ones who watch you the closest. So give them a show.

Not all battles were fought with axes and swords.

Though she remained upset, Éla found a new purpose while straightening the creases in her dress before taking her leave from the library. If the council wanted a show, she would deliver.
She was the king's wife after all. She swore beneath baited breath on her father's pride.

There was nothing left to lose.

000

"Are we really going to be forced into marriage?" Fíli asked, appalled that any dwarf could say such things to his uncle and not get punished.

Thorin closed his eyes in an attempt to will away earlier irrational outbursts. "No."

Kíli paced the room to alleviate pent up anger, ready to throw fists at the next ill-intent comment sworn upon them by greedy politics. The young prince never imagined such characters to have so much freedom of speech like what they'd witnessed. It was no different than bairns arguing over toys or wanting the last piece of dessert. Sure, he'd fought with his own brother from time to time, but never had they argued to the extent like that of the council. Joining Fíli as heir had opened his eyes to a new world far greedily and stubborn than he'd ever imagined compared to their seemingly carefree upbringing in the Blue Mountains. His strides came to an abrupt halt, teetering towards his uncle for approval to do his bidding.

"Let me have a go at him. No one dishonours family."

Dwalin scoffed, making a show to crack his knuckles. "Get in line."

Fíli faced his uncle. "Why does he threaten her so? I thought marriage would fix all this."

"When a king takes a wife, she'll either remain a consort or become queen." Balin chimed in before anyone made a foolish sprint for the door. "Queens are usually in charge of ceremonial gatherings and occasions, and they're allowed to rule over menial politics. Strictly dependent on their knowledge of the topic of course. A consort has no constitutional status or power. Among the people, she'll still hold some influence but the focus is more on family, raising bairns. Neither title is bad. One is more limited while the other, is not. Thorin's own mother remained a consort, though still earning the title of a princess."

"Will Fíli lose his status?" Kíli asked, unable to hold his patience in check and resumed pacing, mumbling with each heavy stride. "If we were in the Blue Mountains, I'd still have a go at him and happily take punishment for it."

"That wouldn't happen." Thorin confirmed with an added warning. "Nothing changes. Falo's focus is to destroy her reputation. What's left of it, it seems."

"Or put doubt into your mind." Balin added, weariness slowly spreading across his already tired features.

"Why go through great lengths to shame a king's wife? Is there no law to stop him?" Fíli looked upset with his elders for not doing more. His attention diverted to his brother pausing in the corner of the room, kicking the wall, and continuing on the repeated path. "If he knows about her wounds, why not show compassion?"

"They're just words." Thorin said. "He can do no harm."

"Won't he find another reason?" Fíli argued, his own patience showing signs of running out. "What's to stop him next if he's not satisfied later?"

"It's not exactly an attack against her, but one directed at me." Thorin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. His back slouched into the chair, looking between his eldest nephew and the scrambled mess left out on the tablet after their meeting's end. "Events which occurred before us ever reaching the mountain stuck with him. There are rules that need to be followed. Ones I broke. Éla too."

"But you nearly died." Kíli halted his pacing.

"Sit down, laddie. You're making my head spin." Balin pointed to an empty chair and Kíli huffed in protest but did as he was told.

"He does not see it that way. Unless Éla can provide, he won't stop. Life will be difficult for the next while." Thorin continued, his voice lowering with an angry rumbling in the back of his throat. "No one knows what happened. Not even Oin, from what I'm told."

"I say we cut off his beard." Dwalin hadn't bothered to keep the sly comment in check. "See how he likes humility then."

Balin pursed his lips and spoke quietly. "Our Lady never agreed with the discussion of her own fate when not present. She's done well to remain strong this far but I fear this rapid change won't end well."

"I'd hope marriage would've allowed her freedom. More acceptance from the council." Thorin's face twisted with sorrow and a boiling rage. Never had he confided with his closest kin after his vows but the words now tasted bitter and cold compared to earlier hopefulness the day had brought. Instinct urged him to go back to her but he fought for control and remained seated. He'd see her again at dinner. There was no cause for worry. His only hope was that her day remained in good spirits after he left.

"They'll be damned to fight this every step of the way. Surely they won't?" Fíli wondered what strain this would put on their family moving forward.

"Oh they can, lad." Nothing surprised Balin anymore. Not at his age. A quick glance and pause towards Thorin couldn't be helped. They were all fooled in their blind ambitions to make amends with constitutional law, unfortunately, it wasn't going to be a simple fix. "If it's not one issue, it'll be the next. Our king has returned to the throne. A king who's taken a wife. By law, Éla must provide an heir, for rulers marry to secure bloodlines, not love."

Balin raised a hand before either prince could air protest. Thorin remained silent, eyes still fixated on some mundane object on the table as they listened.

"There's only one reason why the council hadn't dismissed your uncle's binding. He already has two heirs. Had both of you fallen in battle the council would've called upon the royal decree for an arranged match to secure the Line of Durin instead. Eventually, word will spread as more arrive to the mountain. If the people ever found out the king possibly sired an heir out of wedlock, not only would the bairn be brandished as a bastard but it's mother, far worse. Because of you lads, our people may be more welcoming to Éla's new status, though questions about her role may remain unwelcome for some time. No one must breathe a word about what happened in that tent."

"We must tread carefully." Balin lingered his sight on the princes a bit longer, knowing what they knew all too well. "Be careful what you say to others when it comes to family matters. Dismiss any inquiries about our Lady's health. The least that can be done is keeping her honour intact."

Kíli slouched back, idly fixing his gloves in annoyance. "Well if Dain leaves in the morrow, I say good riddance to that prick he's taking with him."

"Kíli!" His brother chided the rude remark, bringing about panic and disapproving stares despite a few chuckles from their elders.

"It's not forever." Balin warned though his eyes twinkled by the youngling's mischievous remark, returning a mutual nod in Thorin's direction. "I suppose we'll all enjoy a bit of peace for a time."

"If Dain came around, there's still hope for the council?" Fíli's question sounded more like a defeated statement. His eyes sparked with hope even though his mouth formed into a grim line as his sight settled on Thorin's brooding profile.

The room fell silent until Thorin spoke, his voice a deep rasp. "They'll have no choice if they want to keep their positions under my kingdom."

The younger prince snorted a laugh with Dwalin.

"There are nine others I can appoint from The Company."

"You would threaten your own council?" Balin asked, albeit a little surprised to hear such a confession so soon.

"Only if they continue to threaten my binding."
His smugness returned, entertained by his own thoughts while staring down his advisor and friend. "Give me till next Durin's Day. We'll see what changes then."

000

Thorin entered quietly late that evening, getting himself ready for bed upon seeing Éla already resting soundly on her side. She wasn't at dinner that day and Thorin's chest churned with heaviness when he was told she'd retired earlier than usual. Beady eyes lingered on her sleeping form as he changed into night clothes, deciding whether or not to wake her. He had questions. Ones riddled from curiosity and in need of answers. Her behavior was off-putting so naturally he suspected something was wrong when their morning had been hopeful.

Carefully sitting on the bed he inched closer, watching her stir.

"Éla?" Thorin rubbed soothing circles on her back, hoping she'd turn to him. "Have you eaten?"

"I wasn't hungry." She made herself small under the layers and a pang of guilt riddled Thorin's spine. He didn't like seeing her reserved. Not when they were safe and alone in their quarters.

"I find that hard to believe." Thorin tugged away the blankets so he could have a clearer view of expression. "Did something happen?"

Éla rolled onto her back with a soft grunt. Her hips remained sore as she shifted in a more comfortable position. She saw Thorin studying her, a hand gliding over her outer thigh as she moved.

"What is it?"
A breathy laugh escaped her when he rubbed up her side. "It's just a light pressure in my back. It'll pass."

He didn't look convinced.

"It wasn't you. Well, maybe, I'm not sure." She tried to make herself sound lighthearted but his gaze flickered something fierce with worry.

"I can send for a healer if you need one." The harsh lines on his face softened as he lowered slightly. "If you're hungry, there's food brought up as well should you change your mind."

Éla's cheeks flushed a light pink when he nudged even closer, memory from the prior night flooding her mind as a reminder to how good she'd felt earlier that day. Gazing into those blue eyes of his, she realized she could get lost in them and never tire of it. Anticipation sent a light flutter through the depths of her stomach, ridding her mind from other problems.

"I mean it. I'm not really hungry." Éla diverted her gaze, the blush retreating a little yet still burning her core in hopes of something he'd do, but her thoughts sobered by her discomfort still. Nerves had gotten the better of her and her appetite had long been lost ever since.

"I don't want this pressure of being your wife if I cannot enjoy it." Slinking down after realizing how selfish it sounded aloud as words poured out of her, she broke the lingering silence and Thorin gave a slight nod as if to convey mutual understanding before settling on his side next to her.

"Falo won't be a problem, at least not for the next while."

"I know he's leaving with Dain." Éla spoke quietly, her voice a fraction of what it once was. She didn't recognize it yet she wished to remain honest with Thorin no matter how much it tore at her inside to pain him with her worries.

"And Dain has relieved us of that burden till spring." Thorin remained propped on an arm, keeping close contact.

"I..." Éla considered not saying anything but she didn't want the night to end with unanswered questions. The heat radiating from his body relaxed tense muscles and she eased even closer into his touch. "Then you're aware of his demands? H-he came for a short visit."

Thorin gently took hold of her shoulder, moving her onto her back when he noticed the shift to roll over again. "No one will bother you. Dain has given us a few weeks of peace."

"Why did he take your councilor?"

A sly reaction crossed his face.

"Thorin?"

"To cool the air. Dain used to be one for brawls but now that we are here, back home, we can start anew." He began, wrapping an arm around her waist, just beneath her breasts as she rolled back onto her side despite his nonverbal protests. "There'll be preparations that require tending before the second group arrives but we'll have more time to ourselves before then."

"Balin is now Chief Advisor. To the King." He added as matter-of-fact, planting a tender kiss to her shoulder.

Éla's eyes widened and faced him. "Falo's no longer?..." She was stunned. "Just like that? Why?"

"He'll keep his title but Balin now oversees him." Thorin rested his head on a propped arm, tracing a hand over her side and dipping back down her back, resuming light touches. "Falo will remain advisor to the Iron Hills, not Erebor. It was a decision to give us more time...and it made sense. Balin has been by my side since I was a lad. If Falo steps out of line again, he'll be gone. I'm grateful to Dain for these next few weeks. We're hoping to give everyone here their tasks before the next caravan. Fíli and Kíli also need guidance so they may carryout their roles with ease before then."

Éla moved to grimace at the ceiling. "More time to produce an heir. I know it's what's expected of me but to be pressured like this...I don't want to be a prisoner, Thorin."

Tears glassed over her eyes, making the brown irises shine brighter under the hearth's light. She didn't want to be forced. Not with him.

"No." Thorin caressed her face with a hand, wiping away stray tears falling from its fragile hold. "You won't be forced into anything. Everything we do will be on our terms, when you are ready. Dain has agreed that not much can be done during this time. Think of it as a holiday. Every marriage is entitled to one after communion. I would rather heal with you than wait another year for something proper."

"You'll still be busy." Éla scoffed, holding back what sadness remained. "And when they return? I hate the thought that you'll be forced to do your duties too."

They knew this would be difficult to navigate, yet Thorin felt more relaxed than he'd been in years. "Don't fret. Fíli is still my direct heir and next in line for the throne. Our union doesn't change that. My task for the next month will be your happiness."

"And your kingdom." Éla corrected. He was trying to comfort her, having her submit to an easier day-to-day life, for the moment.

"Yes, but there's little that can be done with our current numbers. Most are aiding the men of Dale or keeping our borders safe."

"I want to be your source of happiness, Éla. Knowing you're content or to see you smile brightens my day. You are always welcome to come find me."

She didn't respond, instead, she casually traced her fingers across the palm of his hand which previously occupied her waist.

"Is there anything I can do for you during this time?" Thorin's voice lowered with each word into a deep, rasping whisper which sent a tingle down her spine.

Éla thought about it, grabbing hold of his hand as she rolled onto her side and holding it tight to her chest. His chest rumbled in response and he nudged closer so their bodies were flush against each other. "You owe me a new nightgown. Not today but later."

Thorin held her to him, smiling into her hair. "Done."