To those who have felt a deep, irrepressible, and irreversible sense of loathing for this story,

A great remedy for a foul mood is lavender tea with a hint of chamomile and honey.

But thank you for the laughs!

Sincerely and emphatically,

DDD 3

X

The fortifications of the Mountain began immediately. Even if she had been offered, Nadi would not hear of decreasing her workload. Conveniently enough, for once no one seemed to be concerned over her capabilities as a woman. Though Thorin knew that she was carrying a child, he barely glanced her way as she trudged along carrying heavy boulders shoulder-to-shoulder with her male companions. She grit her teeth and blinked away the grimy, stinging sweat descending from her brow. Working hard helped her to think, and there was a lot that she had been thinking about for the past few hours.

She couldn't give the Arkenstone to Thorin. Several of the Company were already in agreement that the stone in his hands would bring upon a great catastrophe to their world. Years ago, when the thought of reclaiming the Mountain had only just been planted in her mind by Thorin, she would not have cared for the affairs of the outside world. She would have helped him to reclaim the Mountain as she was bound to such a contract by duty to her race. Then, if all things fell apart, she would have returned to the forest and lived out the rest of her life in relative peace. But things had changed. She was now responsible for a life outside of her own. Her mother had always had the right idea: raise a child as a warrior of the woodlands, and then introduce it back into the world. From then on, the child could make its own choice as to where it would reside. She could raise Sili in the forest for a while but, eventually, she'd feel an obligation to reintroduce him into civilization if only to show him how strange and undesirable it was.

But civilization under Thorin's greedy influence was no civilization at all. She wanted to introduce her child to something different…something that she had a little more control over.

She toiled and toiled tirelessly until her palms grew red from lifting boulders and her shoulders spasmed with weakness. So immersed was she in her fantasies that the others began to assume that she had gone mad. But a plan was coming together in her mind. Perhaps it was foolhardy and naive - she was still quite a young Dwarve, after all - but desperation made her creative. And it was quite a creative plan indeed.

She leaned against a pile of boulders and simply watched Fili as she attempted to catch her breath. Her entire plan hinged on him and the fated bloodline that coursed through his veins. He had barely spoken to her over the last few days - in fact, he had barely even looked at her at all. This was odd, as he had always been so pressingly and formally courteous that Kili had made a habit of teasing him for it. But whatever wrath had settled upon his shoulders and had caused him to lash out at Kili the previous day did not concern her. Though the thought of using him like some docile pony made her feel selfish and dirty, she had no choice. Everything - every little, treacherous thing that she had done up to that point - had been for the greater good. For her son.

If only she knew how many people still resided in the ruins of Lake-Town, if there were any!

"That's it!" Thorin called to the others as they hoisted a large boulder towards the top of the others. The upper story archway had been almost completely sealed off by jagged stones that had conveniently fit together like puzzle pieces. The sight of it all made Nadi feel strange, and she wondered who would benefit more from such an imprisoning: the outside world, or Erebor. "I want this fortress made safe by sunup! This Mountain was hard-won! I will not see it taken again."

"Thorin!" Kili said. He dropped the handles that he had been holding and the cart before him fell to the ground with a hard 'thump.' He was still sick. Nadi could see the clamminess coating his handsome brow, and the sheer exhaustion lining his face. "The people of Lake-town have nothing. They came to us in need-"

Poor thing, Nadi thought to herself. So desperate was he that he wasn't even trying to be strong. His voice had taken on a whiny edge and, at that moment, he looked as if he was a child standing amongst men. She forced herself to look away, feeling a deep sense of embarrassment welling in her gut.

"They have lost everything," he said. Thorin turned upon him slowly and Nadi knew, then, that he was no longer glancing upon his sister's son, but another infuriatingly senseless bit of hindrance.

"Do not tell me what they have lost. I know well enough their hardship. Those who have lived through dragon fire should rejoice!" None returned his sardonic merriment and so, disappointed, he turned to face the final part in the stone curtain. "They have much to be grateful for. Rest, if you must. I expect you all on your feet in a few moments."

This was met with subdued gratefulness and they all shuffled into separate corners. The morning had been rough, and they had all been pushed to their very boundaries. There was a smattering of chatter amongst them but, mostly, they kept their gazes lowered and their voices low.

She saw Dwalin standing by himself with his hands braced upon the top of his ax. He was staring into the distance and if he shared in their distaste for Thorin his stoicism masked the sentiment well.

She crouched onto her haunches beside him, lost her balance, and immediately fell onto her bottom. Flustered, she gestured for him to sit down and he fell into a stiff crouch. There was suspicion etched upon his brow. Either he could not hide it or he didn't care to. It had taken Dwalin a rather long time to warm up to her. But just then she needed his keen and observant eye to answer a question that had been nagging at her conscience.

"You remember the Bahndobin brothers, don't you?" She asked, watching him carefully. He gave her a highly unamused look.

"And just what sort of question is that?"

"The sort of question that…begs an answer, I suppose." She cleared her throat quickly. "What, um…what…I mean to say…I-"

"Spit it out, Nadi. I don't fancy standing around listening to you stutter. Not while we have so little time ahead of us."

"Alright! Alright. The eldest brother, Bahn. Before he attempted to start a rebellion against the other races, what was he like?"

"Another odd question! Are you quite alright, lassie?"

He was peering at her thoughtfully. His eyes were a deep, dark blue. She had never noticed this before.

"Just…making conversation, I suppose. Trying to distract myself from it all."

"And so you came to me," he was still staring at her. She was worried that he might call her silly and turn her away. But to her surprise, he gave a sudden smile that made his eyes crinkle in a very warm way. "Aye, I appreciate that. You and I haven't spoken much. I've been wondering about you. Your skin, you know, is turning dark - darker than usual."

"Aye, I am aware," she said curtly.

"You want to know about Bahn. Well," he stroked his beard thoughtfully, his eyes on Thorin's back. "He was intelligent. And cunning. Weren't a puzzle you could put before him that he couldn't solve. He had a head for maps and policies - 'twas all he ever thought about, really. To hear the female Dwarves tell it, that was a crying shame!" Dwalin chuckled at this.

"I see…" she said, although she wasn't particularly interested in the last part.

"Y'know," Dwalin said, leaning in closer to her and casting a watchful glance along his shoulder. "Perhaps I shouldn't tell you this but, for a time, he was an advisor to Thror."

"Then what happened?"

Dwalin shrugged. "Well, Bahn had big ideas, he did - too big for Erebor."

"Dare I say you sound impressed..."

"Won't deny it. Bahn was an impressive Dwarve before he…" he gestured mutely and she nodded. "Shame he perished in the Pit before he ever got a chance to repent."

"Mm-hm," Nadi quickly looked away. Bahn wasn't dead - she knew this, of course. He was alive and waiting for her to deliver the Arkenstone to the forest on the edge of Dale. Though the cobwebs in Bahns head hadn't completely been knocked away, he still had potential. Dwalin's words were proof of that. And the fact of him having been an advisor to Thror only strengthened her resolve to carry out her plan.

Dwalin was still talking, steeped in memory. She realized that she hadn't heard a single word that he had said.

"Dwalin," she said and then, when he continued talking, yanked his sleeve. "Dwalin!"

"Aye, I know my name, lassie," he said gruffly. She hesitated with her teeth upon her bottom lip before speaking the question that had been bouncing around her mind ever since meeting Bahn in the forest.

Nay, you can't be as thick as cud. After all, you're of my blood.

That's what Bahn had said after forcing her to look upon the red in her hair - the exact same red that snaked through his beard and his untrammeled mane. Back then, in the forest, he had implied that he was her father. But she wasn't sure if this was true, and Dwalin was bound to become suspicious if she continued her inquiry for too much longer. Thorin had turned and was surveying their reclining figures with impatience. At any moment, he would summon them to pick up where they had left off. Dwalin had noticed this, too, and was slowly lifting himself off of the ground.

"Dwalin," she said again, grabbing hold of his sleeve as she hurriedly stood up. She could feel the heat of Thorin's distant gaze over Dwalin's shoulder. "Was he close to my mother?"

"Who?"

"Bahn!"

"Why-"

"Just answer! Please!"

"Bring more stone to the gate!" Thorin ordered. "Your time for rest is over."

"About as close and you and Kili were, I'd reckon." He stopped short and they stared at each other in surprise. "Pardon the insinuation."

If only you knew the irony of your own words, she thought to herself. She didn't like this conversation and thought that perhaps it had been silly for her to ask in the first place. Sadi had told her many grand tales of her late father. By her accounts, he had been a great man worthy of high praise. Assuming that he wasn't even her father at all felt like familial blasphemy. She shook her head and muttered something about having to get back to work. But Dwalin put his hand on her shoulder and swiftly drew her close.

"Is there something that you are not telling me?"

"Aye, and that is I am tired of you all claiming that I am holding something back."

"Are you?"

"If I am, I assure you that I have good reason."

"You know, it is possible that one or all of the Bahndobin survived their descent into the Pit. They could be living and breathing and walking around beneath our very feet, if they haven't clambered their way out. Or," he leaned in closer to her and his moist breath washed across his face. "It could be possible that one amongst us might have come across them during our tenancy within the Mountain. Would I be right in assuming that your inquiry is little more than an attempt to distract yourself?"

"You'd be right in assuming that if you do not take your hand off of my shoulder, I might be tempted to spit at you."

His hand immediately slunk away from her body. "By my beard, you have become hot as the fires that used to light the forges! Very well, lassie. I will not interfere with your right to hold your tongue - 'specially if it has become fond of slinging spit at those who ask harmless questions. Go, begone! You heard Thorin - we still have much work to do."

X

The day swiftly turned to night, and still they worked. Thorin would not see them sleep that night. The rays of the dawning sun began to filter in through the cracks in the fortification, illuminating the tired faces of the Company. All present wondered when this cruel slavery would end but Thorin made no sign of stopping them. It was possible that he intended for them to fortify every opening within the damned Mountain. Nadi felt as if she had been subjected to a hellish and cyclical fate of picking boulders up, moving them around, and setting them down with no discretion.

That was, until, a voice hailed them from beyond.

The Company immediately dropped what they were doing and clambered up the steps leading to the main stone corner. There, they waited and watched over the lip as a man approached them on horseback. Nadi immediately recognized him as Bard: the infamous bowman who had slain the dragon. Her heart was filled with joy at the sight of his streaming hair and broad shoulders. Here, at last, was a reasonable man that could help her set her plan in order.

"Hail, Thorin, son of Thrain!" Bard called. In her eagerness to speak, Nadi quickly shoved Thorin aside and leaned out along the edge of the wall.

"Hullo!" She called back, waving her handkerchief in the air. "Look! We are here! We made it!"

"It sounds as if your voice has changed, O King Under the Mountain!" Bard called back. He pulled his horse to a stop and shielded his brow with his hand. "Or am I correct in assuming that the Mountain is now under management of the she-Dwarf among you?"

"Perhaps that is what she would have hoped," Thorin said. He put his hand on her chest and shoved her back with a disbelieving expression on his face. "Do not speak out of turn," he hissed to her, then turned to address Bard. "Why do you come to the gates of the King under the Mountain armed for war?"

"Why does the King under the Mountain fence himself in, like a robber in his hold?" Bard called back.

"Perhaps it is because I am expecting to be robbed!" Thorin bellowed. Even from a distance, Nadi could see the exasperated slump in Bard's shoulder. She wondered if anybody else found Thorin's childish paranoia as awkward as she did.

"Uncle," she said, clutching his arm. "Let me go out and speak to him, privately. You've been working tirelessly - let me mediate in your stead. Will you grant me this pardon?"

"I will grant you the opportunity to walk away from me without feeling my wrath upon your left cheek," he growled. "You are no mediator, child, you are a swindler."

"Can't have the former without the latter-"

"Nadi," Gloin said in a firm voice. He held his hand out beside him, signaling that she should take a step back and join him. She cast Thorin one more pleading glance before stepping back and crossing her arms over her chest.

Beyond the walls, she could hear the sound of Bard's laughter.

"The young woman has enthusiasm, I will grant her that! Perhaps a little bit of enthusiasm is necessary in these troubling times."

"The young woman's enthusiasm is misplaced," Thorin said. "She is much too short to see the shadow that you have cast upon my doorway."

"My lord... we have not come to rob you but to seek fair settlement! Will you not speak with me?"

Thorin thought about this for a moment. By chance, he glanced back and swept his gaze over the Company assembled neatly before him. All held his eye when their chance came. It was a strange and pivotal moment in their history in which their dissatisfaction with Thorin's governing was purposefully apparent. He turned back and gave a nod, signaling Bard to join him on the lower level.

Nadi watched her king part from narrow eyes. She wasn't sure what she wanted to be mad at first, and so decided that she would just have to be mad at everything.

"Balin," she said, her eyes never leaving Thorin's retreating figure. "In your opinion, what does it take to build a functioning civilization?"

The sound of water dripping punctuated the silence following her words. There was nothing else to do or talk about while they waited for Thorin to return. Thus, there was no reason for Balin to not indulge her in conversation.

"Er, well, you'd need three things I suppose: resources, people, and, er, influence."

"What sort of resources?"

"Well, land, obviously," Dori interjected. There was no way in which he'd miss out on a chance to flaunt his own intelligence. "Or where else would the people stay? And then you'd need things like crops, clothing, raw materials-"

"-or at least a way to acquire them," Balin said quickly, casting Dori an annoyed glance.

"Funds," Nadi said.

"Right," Balin and Dori said at the same time.

"Alright," she said with a nod. "I understand the people part of it. But what do you mean by influence?"

"Well-" Dori started but Balin leaned over faster than would have been expected from his old age and placed his hand over Dori's mouth.

"-centralized power," he said. "A form of governance. It would not do to have a group of people running around with no goals or agenda, do you understand? Any functioning civilization needs a stable hand to set them in the right direction. It needs influence."

"How would one go about influencing those with free will?"

"It's quite simple," Fili said. He stood up and took a seat next to her, his empty pipe in hand. Kili glanced at him and then rolled his eyes at Nadi. Here we go again. "You can go about it in one of two ways. You can either manipulate the masses, or you can persuade them."

"Mm," Nadi thought about this. The word manipulation had an unkind ring to it. Persuasion, however, had a gentle and yet firm sound. She could be persuasive and, in turn, inspire others to be persuasive as well. She looked up into Fili's blue eyes and realized that she wasn't seeing him, but appraising him. Judging and calculating his worth and abilities, just as the high court of Erebor used to do to her. Back then she had despised the thought of being treated like some object and now here she was: objectifying him. Oh, but she could be persuasive. With him, it would be easy.

"Tell me about persuasion," she said. "How does it work?"

"It's an appeal to one's sensibilities. Manipulation is an appeal to one's emotions," he said. If he was unnerved by her staring him down, she didn't show it.

"-like fear," Balin added. "How do you think so many tyrants rose to power throughout the years?"

"By manipulation," she said dutifully.

"Right," Fili said. "But persuasion works in the opposite way. "Let us say that I knew you wanted something. I could use this to my advantage, you know, persuade you to follow me if I give you what you want in return."

Kili gave a sudden, loud gag and everybody turned to look at him. "Sorry," he said unapologetically. "Bullshite. Did anybody else get a sudden whiff of it? Or was it just me?"

"Must be coming from your corner," Dwalin said and Kili ducked his head in embarrassment. "You're the only bull in here."

Nadi quickly shushed them all. "Persuasion…" she murmured to herself. "...what the people want…Balin," she said, turning to the Dwarve. "If you had to guess, what would you think the people of Lake-Town want most?"

"Well, it's quite simple, isn't it," Balin said. "What they crave now more than ever is something - or someone - to believe in."

A silence descended upon them as they digested this. They were all, in their own way, thinking back to the desolation brought upon the lake-dwelling citizens by Smaug. Below them, Thorin's voice rose and fell in volume. She could hear Bard speaking back to him, his voice growing angrier by the second. She knew, then, that Thorin intended to sever every tie and cord that bound them to the outside world. His impassioned declinations were akin to a war cry and when society finally turned its back on him, it would not find her on his side.

"Do you have plans to build your own society, Nadi?" Fili asked in a voice tethering between sarcastic and amused.

"Nay," she said as she stood up and brushed the dust from her trousers. "But perhaps one day you will."

"Where are you going?" Bilbo asked as she walked away from them.

"Never you mind!" She cried as she walked away. "From here on out my business is my own!

X

She found Thorin upon the bottommost floor of Erebor. His face was contorted with rage as he backed away from the wall. There was a small opening within the stone wall through which he had been speaking to Bard.

"Has the bowman left?" She asked, ignoring the murderous wrath upon Thorin's face. "Call him back!"

"I told you that you will not be a mediator in this affair."

"I have my own reasons for needing to speak with him," she said quickly. "And they have nothing to do with this Mountain nor the citizens residing in Dale."

"Then there is nothing to be spoken upon at all."

"My matters are more…personal." She walked over to the hole in the wall. It was a bit higher than she could reach and so she jumped. Bard was still there, standing beyond and gazing distractedly into the distance.

"What have you to say to him that you cannot say to your king?" Thorin asked, watching her jump up and down like some sort of lunatic.

"I'd rather not distract my king with…womanly things. Bard!" She yelled as she jumped at the hole. "Oi, stubble-face!

"Womanly - what?" Thorin repeated with some confusion. She jumped again and waved her hand at the hole.

"Thorin, look-" she said, lowering her voice into a hiss and fixing him with a cold glare. "You know that I am with child, right? Certain things come with that territory. And I need Bard to ask the women among his group if they can provide me with some essentials, like-"

"Alright, alright!" Thorin said quickly. Was it her imagination, or had she seen a blush cross his cheeks? King under the Mountain or not, he was far from equipped for dealing with womanly affairs. He moved away, muttering to himself as Nadi watched him. When she was sure that he was far enough away, she turned her attention back to the hole.

"Stubble-face, really?" Bard asked. Though his tone was jovial, she could tell that he was still upset by his meeting with Thorin.

"Do not worry, it fits you!" She said. She jumped up once more and caught a glimpse of his frowning face. "The master of Lake-Town. Where is he?"

"Back upon the docks, I suppose, hoarding what little gold is left with the snake Alfrid."

"And are there any who remained with him in Lake-Town?"

"A few hundred that were too scared to leave, I reckon. Why?"

She ignored his question and jumped up again. "Do not leave Dale," she warned. "Keep your people here. Wait for my signal, and return to Lake-Town at my beckoning."

"Have you a plan?"

"Of sorts. I require only a small token of your faith."

"Faith?" Bard repeatedly incredulously. He laughed softly. "I tried to put faith in your king and it was swiftly destroyed."

"Look at me, bowman." She jumped and latched her fingers upon a rocky hold. Hefting herself up was tricky, but she managed to hang on. "See the coloring of my skin. I am nothing like my king."

"Then what are you?"

"Someone that you can trust to make things right."

"Ah," Bard said with a nod. "I see, too, that you are still quite young and possibly naive. What is your age?"

"I lay claim to thirty-three years," she said proudly, and then added, "not that it has anything to do with anything."

"Ah," he said again. "That is about eighteen years for my kind. Why should I trust you?"

"As I said, I am nothing like my king."

"Your brashness makes me think otherwise. Either way, I do not have any choice but to keep my people here."

"Why is that?"

"Perhaps you haven't noticed, but an army of Elves headed by Thranduil have congregated near Dale. They are…planning something," he glanced over his shoulder uncomfortably and Nadi sensed that he was holding something back. "It would be best for my people and I to wait until Thranduil has made his decision."

"What..." her fingers grew weak and she promptly lost hold. There was a loud 'thump' as she crashed to the ground and let loose a volley of curses. "What decision could he possibly be on the verge of making?" She called up to the hole. There was a silence and then Bard sighed.

"So young, and so naive," he said again. "I have a duty to look after my people, Master Dwarf. If, on the odd chance, your proposition sounds more reasonable than Thranduil's then I will follow your orders. But, as I have said before, I tried to put faith in your kind and it was destroyed. I do not often make the same mistake twice. Hyah!"

With that, he whipped his horse into a frenzy and galloped back towards Dale.