"I consider it a kindness that I did not throw the foul temptress out as soon as I saw her," Thror growled viciously, "And to think that my own grandson could fall victim to such trickery. I thought you wise!"

Thorin stood, arms folded, glowering at his grandfather. "Of what trickery do you speak? Marryn was a more gracious guest than most. What action of hers has caused this suspicion?"

"Open your eyes, lad!" Thror said, "What interest would a common human have in a dwarf besides the promise of a vast fortune?"

"Marryn cares not for piles of gold or jewels," Thorin scoffed.

"She is of a greedy race who desires riches above all else," the king's face grew red, "What reason have you to believe she is any different?"

"I pledged with a token of a mere moon pebble," Thorin said firmly, "and she asked for nothing more."

Thror stopped and stared at his grandson, horrified.

"You've pledged yourself to a human seamstress?" he asked, his voice grave and quiet.

"I have," Thorin declared, shaking with anger and bravado, "And she has pledged herself to me in return."

"Remove yourself from my sight," the king whispered dangerously, "You have disgraced the name of Durin. You will have no further contact with this Marryn of Dale as long as I live."

"I shall count the days," Thorin said under his breath as he stomped away.

Frerin was waiting for his brother outside the door.

"What did he say to you?" the younger dwarf asked, jogging to keep up.

"He has made a command that I cannot obey," Thorin hissed.

"Brother, I beg you to see reason," Frerin said, "The king speaks only out of concern for you."

"For me?" Thorin scoffed again, "He speaks out of concern for his hoard of gold. It is all that fills his mind as of late."

"Thorin," Frerin pleaded.

Thorin stopped in his tracks and looked at his brother impatiently.

"Say you are given all you desire," Frerin said, "Say you are wed to the Lady Marryn and she becomes your queen. The fact remains that you are a dwarf and she is a human."

Thorin's face softened slightly.

"Are a few short years worth half a lifetime of loneliness and sorrow?" Frerin asked.

Thorin took Marryn's moon pebble from his pocket and held it in his hand. Its smooth sides cooled his palm. He stroked the carved rune with his thumb.

The dwarf looked at his brother. "There is no sorrow I would not endure for the love of Lady Marryn."