Disclaimer: Anything you recognize is not my own, yadda yadda yadda. I'm not making any money off of this. (Though I wish I could.)

Authors note: I am not a scholar and I have no desire to butcher the dwarven language. What is easily available is not enough to make a full, cohesive language for speeches or long conversations. To this end, I will either italicize the font to indicate it is being spoken in Khuzdul, or I will have someone translating it for Tayla. Credit to The Dwarrow Scholar for anything intelligently put together.


Dinner ended entirely too soon for my liking. We had finished perusing the drawings Ori had come up with while more dwarves came to clear away our plates and refresh the pitchers. Dis showed up long enough to great us and offer me words of encouragement before gathering up Bain, Sigurd, and Tilda. Bain put up a fuss, but Bard gave him a stern look which quelled Bain's argument, no doubt temporarily. Bard did not want his children around should there be trouble. I waved them goodbye and watched their retreating backs as I chewed my lip.

I had been dreading this part of the night, the part where Thorin would introduce me to his people and the explain the situation at hand. On one hand, at least those gathered had eaten and drank well. On the other…. They had drank well. Dwarven tempers were fickle things to begin with. Adding alcohol to the mix made them even more so.

A small commotion towards the main doors made me look up. The remaining members of our company, minus Gandalf, were heading our way, with Balin in the lead, looking very somber. With some minor shuffling, they all settled in, extending various greetings.

"Balin. Bombur. Gloin, Oin." Thorin offered in return. "How is that son of yours, Gloin?"

"Zantbarakal! Looking more and more like a dwarven warrior every time I see him." Gloin practically beamed at this statement. "In less than a fortnight, he will be sixty-two years!"

"Sixty-two?!" I asked, mildly incredulous. I could not remember how old Gimli was supposed to have been, but the way Gloin went on about him, you would have assumed he was a young man in his twenties. Given the rate at which dwarves aged, I suppose that was not far off.

"Aye?" Gloin glanced my way curiously.

"Sorry. I guess I just sort of forgot how you guys aged." Not wanting to broach this particular subject about the aging differences in dwarves and humans, I plowed ahead. "It must have been a real joy to see your wife and son again."

"Ragna 'bout beat my head in once she saw me. Guess she heard a little too many details about our quest." Gloin admitted.

"Not that it kept him from picking her and swinging her around in the middle of the hall," Oin stated. "It was good to see them both. Gimli has definitely become a fine dwarf."

"Glad to hear," I said, with genuine feeling.

"And Balin? What news?" Thorin asked, turning his attention to the still somber and stoic dwarf.

"We have gathered the last of our fallen. Dain is sending out a party to return the bodies of those whose family did not make the journey to Erebor." He paused a moment and let out a small sigh. "Dwalin will be interred in our family's hall tomorrow morn."

Immediately, I felt the familiar sting as tears threatened to well. I tried not to react. I had learned it was not customary to show grief of those fallen in battle while in public. Their lives were supposed to be celebrated; their bravery commemorated. Only when you were alone, or with close family did you mourn the now missing piece in your life. It was one of many customs that I struggled with. Worse still that I blamed myself for his fall.

Thorin must have felt me tense next to him, or he knew my feelings well enough on the matter to react. He casual re-settled himself in his seat and touched my hand where it rested on the table. He engulfed it in his own, squeezing gently.

"Have his deeds been yet recorded?" Thorin asked, now looking again to Oin.

"Nay. I have yet the time." Oin answered.

"If you will permit, I would scribe them myself."

"It would be our honor, my king." Oin bowed his head. "There is no one better suited than he who fought alongside him the most."

"Oin, I would like to attend vigil, if it proper." Fili spoke up after a moment.

"And I," Kili said I, nodding to Fili.

"Me, too," Nori and Dori spoke in unison.

"Kun!" Bifur exclaimed, nodding his head once.

"As would I," This from Bofur. The rest murmured in agreement.

"While it may be customary for only close family to stand vigil, we have shared that which most will never know. You all have as close as a bond as I, you who have shed blood with and for him. I would be most grateful for your presence." Oin said, a hand raising in fist to sit over his heart as he looked at those gathered.

I chewed the inside of my lip again, my heart heavy. I had no idea what a vigil was to them, whether it would be appropriate for me to go, or if I would even be welcome. Oin had said before that he harbored no ill will towards me, but I wasn't sure I could have been so forgiving had I been in his place.

"Would it be appropriate for Tayla and I to be present?" Bilbo asked, glancing my way before meeting Oin's eyes. "I know we are not dwarves, but we shared much with him all the same."

"Why would you ever think you were not included, my dear hobbit? Or you, Tayla?"

"Good. Then it is settled. Just tell us when and where." Bilbo smiled warmly in my direction and I inclined my head to him in thanks. He was close enough, and observant enough, to probably notice the wetness gathered in my eyes. I had not trusted myself to speak, afraid either that I my voice would crack, or that I would be outright turned down.

"On to other matters," Thorin said finally, letting go of my hand with a final squeeze. He pushed himself away from the table. "I believe I have a few… announcements to make."

I cringed as Thorin stood next to me and made his way to stand on a raised platform maybe ten feet from the table. It put him even higher than we already were. I didn't want to be there for this. I was half-expecting a similar reaction to me as Uskal had given and there were a lot more dwarves in the room this time. It could turn into a blood bath.

"Lanz galikh." Thorin's voice rang clear even over the din from countless conversations being held. "Idmi!"

Gradually, the crowd quieted and those gathered turned to face us. Thorin cleared his throat and began to speak, addressing his people in Khuzdul.

"He is just summarizing what happened over the quest." Kili said in a hushed whisper, leaning towards me.

"And glossing over all the best parts," Fili commented, a little louder. Thorin shot him a dirty look from the platform as he continued to speak.

"Now he is getting to the goings on with Bard and the people of Dale. How the are staying in the uppermost hall, nearest the front entrance. How we are to act civilized and hospitable, as their help was paramount in securing Erebor…" Fili continued, his voice lowered. He nodded towards Bard, who seemed surprised that Thorin was being so generous in his praise. I knew Thorin was not overly fond of Bard, partly because Thorin wasn't particularly fond of anyone he did not know well, but also due to Bard's feelings towards me. I was glad that he was expressing his gratitude. It would hopefully make the people of Dale's stay more… uneventful?

There were a flurry of whispers and comments then, and I figured Thorin had mentioned something that his people were either unaware of or were awaiting confirmation of.

"Let me guess. He just mentioned the whole rebuilding of Dale thing and how we were footing the bill?" I asked, wincing a little as I looked at the somewhat outraged faces of the crowd. My companions looked a little puzzled at my wording, but by now they didn't generally question my turn of phrase… unless it was particularly vulgar, or just didn't bridge the culture gap.

"How did you guess?" Nori asked, sarcasm abound. I shrugged.

"I heard the word 'Dale', what I think the word for 'gift'?"

"Uh- oh. Shes beginning to understand!" Bofur gasped.

"And now he's talking about the elves and why they are wandering around," Ori continued where Fili left off, ignoring Bofur. He blanched a little. "Oh. I do not think I will translate that. It was… a little rude."

That piqued my interest a little. Dwarven insults. I wonder if I could persuade one of them to teach me a few good ones?

The jibe towards the elves did not seem to mollify the now restless dwarves. They were talking amongst themselves now, some gesturing emphatically. Thorin cleared his throat loudly and raised a hand. The murmurs died off slowly but surely.

Thorin looked down at me then and inclined his head. He held out a hand to me and I swallowed hard. Trying my best to not trip over my own feet, I slid my stool back and stood, painfully aware of the eyes now suddenly on me.

"Breathe, Tayla," Bilbo said softly. "We are here,"

"You're alright, lass." Oin stated, his voice kind.

I glanced back at the company, grateful for the encouragement. They were all smiling and making 'go ahead' gestures. I turned and walked to Thorin, taking his hand in mine. I looked up into his sparkling eyes and managed a small smile of my own. Well. Either it was a smile or a grimace. I would need a mirror to be sure.

"Tayla Askad-abzag." Were his only words. I recognized my nickname and, apparently, my reputation proceeded me. There was a hushed murmur and those who had yet to really see me craned their necks to get a better look.

"The success of this quest hung on the edge of a blade. Had we swayed but a little, we would have failed. The fall of Smaug. The life of my kin. My own life. I owe to this woman before me. We would not be here in these halls if it were not for her courage, or her wisdom. Few have sacrificed as she, particularly for people not of her own. If my words would not sway you, I ask that you look to those who know her well, and to those that fought alongside her." He gestured before him.

"It is to you whom I now speak. Those warriors who shed blood along side her, and whom she bled for. Those who can attest to her character. What say you? Would you offer her welcome here in these halls? Would you name her as your Queen?"

Dead silence. A heartbeat. And then, our company stood in unison.

"Kun!" They cried, loudly and surely.

"That means yes," Thorin said softly, side-glancing at me.

"'Ata!" Dain Ironfoot called as he stood, fist raised in the air. He offered me a bow and I couldn't help but grin at him. "Idmi!"

From there, dwarf after dwarf, until a majority were standing, called out various phrases. 'Ata, Idmi, and Shamukh being among them.

"Let it be, they say. To you they say welcome. And they hail you as Queen."


Zantbarakal = Child of great promise… particularly with an axe

Askad-abzag = Shadow-bane. The nickname given to Tayla by the dwarves.

Kun = Yes

Idmi = Welcome

Ata = Let it be/ So shall it be

Shamukh = Hail