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Chapter 8
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The following day came at last, and with it the summons for all the dams to meet in Balin's office. They had all come draped in their veils, keeping their faces hidden from any who might have seen them during their walk down the halls. However, their female guards had made quite the effort to clear the path, hoping to avoid any and all contact with the inhabitants of Erebor.
Balin had been very welcoming, offering the dams a comfortable chair as well as refreshments during the meeting, doing all he could to put them at ease. A few seemed eager, while some looked nervous, but Balin figured that was to be expected. The white-haired adviser had been pleased by Thorin's idea to help Fili get a better understanding of the lasses he would eventually have to choose between, and he hoped that what he learned today would aid the prince in this weighty decision.
Little did he, or anyone else for that matter, know that just behind him, in his large wardrobe, there hid two sly dwarves. Fili and Kili had snuck in nearly an hour before Balin had arrived; securing themselves inside in order to overhear what was being said.
Fili had come prepared, with a small bag of snacks and a flask of water, whereas Kili had only thought to bring a pillow to sit on, and thus ate and drank half of what his brother had supplied. After pushing several stacks of books and a sundry of other seemingly unnecessary objects out of the way, they had made themselves rather comfortable.
Sadly, the piece of furniture was so well built that once the door was shut; there was no way they could see out. Fili couldn't find a single crack or knothole for the two curious princes to peek out, all their hopes foiled by excellent craftsmanship. Still, from where they sat, they believed they could hear everything being said. Kili had almost fallen asleep while waiting, but the moment he heard the voices of several dams, his eyes shot open and he pressed his ear to the door with great eagerness.
"They're here!" he hissed, as if he imagined Fili couldn't hear them as well.
"Shhhhh!" Fili whispered harshly, shushing his anxious brother. "Do you want to get us caught?"
Kili did as directed, yet mostly because Balin had begun speaking and he didn't want to miss a word. Fili too had his ear pressed to the door, praying that the thick wood wouldn't prevent him from hearing a single word.
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"Welcome, Ladies," Balin began, once they were all seated and held a cup of tea in their hands. They had all removed their veils, with Balin's permission, for drinking anything while wearing a covering would have been rather difficult. "Please do not worry over what is said here today, no answers will be right or wrong, for they are simply an aid in helping the prince to get better acquainted with you." He explained in a kind voice.
"So, will the prince be reading our responses?" demanded Mirev, from the Firebeard clan. "And he will know which one of us said them, right?"
"Of course," Balin assured the lass, yet rather taken aback by her outspokenness. Yet, the Firebeards were known for their fierce nature, though to an almost foolish degree; having a reputation for speaking or acting before giving time for thought or caution. Having come from the Red Mountains to the North East, the Orocarni, Mirev was the only lass with fiery-red hair, which stood out against her pale brown eyes and fair complexion. Beauty she had in spades, and her people were fine weapon-smiths, something that would be advantageous for trade, but for some reason the way she spoke put Balin on edge. He wasn't quite sure she would be a good fit for Fili, but they did say that opposites attract, so who was he to judge. "The prince will have full access to everything I write down today, of that you may be assured."
"Then let's get on with it," stated Gorta, the dam sitting to Mirev's left.
Balin recognized this one as the lady from Ered Lithui, the Ash Mountains at the northern border of the lands of Mordor. And though the Ironfists who dwelt there were not in league with their evil neighbors, the battles they continuously fought in order to keep their lands had left that clan the most warlike of the lot. This too Balin thought could be an advantage to Erebor, for aligning themselves with good fighters could strengthen the mountain's defenses. However, the Ironfists had never been known for their trusting nature, and was the clan offering the most resistance to Thorin's idea of unification.
"Very well," he nodded, taking out the papers that Fili had presented him with the previous day. He had wanted to bring in Ori to serve as scribe for him during this meeting, but Thorin had argued against any more associating with the dams than necessary. So, dipping his quill into the ink, he prepared to write down their answers himself. "The first question is this. What attributes do you feel you can offer Erebor as a queen and future ruler?" Here he turned to the first dam in line, Jorhild, of the Blacklock clan, hailing from the Iron Hills.
"I…I suppose I have a lot to offer," she began, a bit hesitantly. Her hands were shaking so much that she was forced to set her teacup down, for fear she might break it. "I am a fine silversmith…I can make excellent jewelry. Thus, I can guarantee that the prince and I would never look shabby or poor in front of any visiting dignitary."
Balin smiled at the lass, giving her a nod of acceptance for her answer as he quickly wrote down what she had said, word for word. She was a striking lass, with jet-black hair, dark brown eyes and a lovely olive complexion. The Blacklocks were known for their loyalty, and Lord Dain had been very supportive of Erebor ever since they retook the mountain. If Fili were to wed with this lass, it could only serve to strengthen their already strong ties.
"And you, Lady Estur? What do you have to offer Erebor?" Balin continued, looking at the next dam in line.
"Me?" the rather heavy-set lass asked, apparently taken by surprise at Balin's question, for she had been too busy filling her saucer with the cookies and tea-cakes on the platter before her, having already stuffed half a dozen or so in her mouth.
"Yes, lass…you," Balin prompted, smiling inwardly at the lady's distracted nature. As all from the Broadbeam clan, Estur was pleasingly plump, though no less beautiful. In fact, many dwarrow found a lass with a bit more to hang onto very desirable. Her ample bosoms, round hips, Brown hair, and green eyes might indeed be attractive to the young and virile prince. But that was for him to decide, not Balin.
"Well, the prince would never go hungry, that's for sure," Estur began, about to boast about her fine cooking skills.
"Unless you eat every morsel on the table before he has a chance to get any for himself," came the snide remark from Mirev, sitting at Estur's left. Her jab won the approval of Gorta, the two dams snickering at the Broadbeam lass' expense.
"Now, Ladies," Balin chided, not approving of such teasing. "I would ask that you remain civil with each other. And if you cannot, I will have the offending parties removed. Do you understand?"
All nodded, though it still appeared that Mirev was not remorseful over her comment. Balin then nodded for Estur to continue.
"As I was saying," she began again, shooting Mirev and Gorta a look of pure hatred. "I am a fine cook. I am also trained in food storage and all manners of preservation and stocking up for winter. I could share these skills with those in the mountain and thus ensure that the prince and his people do not go hungry, even during the most severe of winters." Here the White Mountain lass turned and stuck her tongue out at both Mirev and Gorta, before reaching for several more teacakes, loading her plate even higher.
"Thank you, lass," Balin said, hiding his smile as he quickly wrote down her words.
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From inside the wardrobe, Fili decided it was almost better that he couldn't see and of the lasses, for this way he wouldn't be swayed by a pretty face and could judge them simply on their personality and responses. He wondered when Réann would get a chance to speak, very curious as to what she would say.
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"Lady Mirev, what do you have to say in response to the question," Balin asked next.
"Well, I actually have something worthwhile to contribute to this mountain," she stated proudly, reaching out and flipping her red hair off her shoulder as she sat up ramrod straight. "My people are excellent weapon-smiths and have the skills to use our creations. I could bring the gift of warriors to this marriage, giving King Thorin a whole new fighting force, one that I'm sure would surpass the skills of any he already has."
"Is that so?" Balin replied through gritted teeth, knowing full well that his brother, Dwalin, was the military commander and the best fighter he knew. And here this lass not only dared to insult the skills of Erebor's warriors right in front of him, but also expected the prince to read such words. He doubted this would set well with Fili…or anyone else.
"Well, I can offer the same thing!" Gorta spoke up, turning to glare at Mirev. "The Ironfists have held their home in Ered Lithui for generations, despite the constant threat from Mordor and its vile orcs. We are warriors of the finest caliber! Much better than any puny Firebeard, that's for sure."
"Now ladies," Balin warned again. "I will not have such bickering. Cease this now or suffer the consequences."
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Again, inside the wardrobe, the two princes heard every word. Kili even made a scoffing sound, which Fili quickly silenced by placing his hand over his brother's mouth for fear he might actually speak out in anger. After giving him a shake of the head, telling him to keep silent, Fili removed his hand and the two continued listening, though with grave looks on their faces. He would certainly not be choosing the lass from the Firebeard clan, nor from the Ironfists, Fili was certain of that.
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Feren, the lass from Ras Morthil, in the far south, was next to speak. Or at least that is where they had been told she hailed, yet the Stonefoot clan was known for their secretive and reclusive nature, so it was really anyone's guess. She had a fair complexion, silver-grey hair and rich, brown eyes. And though she had no reason to feel self-conscious about either her looks or her clan, she refused to raise her eyes to meet Balin's as she spoke.
"We are a self-sufficient clan," she practically whispered. "We need no one, and can live off the land. I can offer skills and knowledge to your people, though they would first need to prove worthy of such information." Here she closed her mouth and ceased speaking, causing Balin to raise his eyebrows in surprise at her cryptic words.
"Well…yes, thank you, Lady Feren," was all the advisor could think to say. He was certainly not seeing much potential in the candidates as of yet. He could only hope that the last one present might prove more acceptable.
"And you, Lady Réann? What do you feel you can offer the prince and his kingdom," he questioned, giving a sigh as he once more dipped his quill into the ink. He didn't know what to expect from the final lass, though he did recall meeting her father once during their time battling outside the gates of Moria. Lord Darmin and his warriors had bravely fought alongside Thrór, giving his aid against such unsurmountable odds. He could only hope that this honorable dwarrow's daughter might show as much courage and spunk as her father.
"Nothing, Lord Balin," came her clear, yet unexpected, reply. "I can offer him nothing that he and Erebor do not already have from the Grey Mountain people. For we Stiffbeards have long recognized Thorin Oakenshield as the rightful heir of Durin, and thus our king. And no marriage alliance would alter that for good or ill. Consequently, I can offer him and Erebor nothing that has not already been given, which is our full allegiance."
"Well then, that is very good to hear," Balin smiled, liking this lass a great deal. The Stiffbeard clan was known for being both peaceable, and clever, and so far, Lady Réann did not disappoint. Her beautiful pale-blue eyes and lovely blonde hair, coupled with her quick wit, was more than enough to place her as a front runner in Balin's book. "I'm certain the prince will be grateful for this as well."
Réann closed her eyes, praying that her answer had not been too forward or too personal. Her goal had been to remain unnoticed. But in all honesty, anything short of declaring all-out war with Erebor, couldn't have been worse than what had already been spoken. She suddenly began to feel a touch of pity for the king's heir. She would need to tell Dwalin to warn Prince Fili of his potential bride's ideas.
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Fili was now grinning from ear to ear, and even though it was dark, he was willing to bet Kili was smiling as well. He knew Réann wouldn't let him down, and though her words had stung a bit, all but declaring her non-desire to marry the prince, her response had been genuine and honest. He could almost hear the approval in Balin's tone as well, reassuring him that he had made the right choice all along.
Over the course of the next hour, Fili learned that Réann's favorite color was yellow, because it reminded her of the sun. She preferred sapphires over all other gems. Her favorite dessert was spiced molasses cake, drizzled with frosting. And the most amazing thing she had ever witnessed had been the birth of her little brother, Taurin. Fili had only half-heartedly listened to the other dam's responses, too anxious to hear what Réann's answers would be. After all, he had come up with most of the questions for the sole purpose of finding out what was on her heart and mind.
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"If Prince Fili were to present you with a gift, what would you desire it to be?" Balin asked.
"A new dress…no wait, several new dresses." Here Jorhild paused. "On second thought, a whole new wardrobe!"
"A banquet, with all the delicacies of Erebor," was Estur's reply.
"Fine metals and a forge of my own so that I could construct weapons," Mirev demanded.
"Jewels of every shape and color," Gorta stated. "Long have we in the Ash Mountains been forced to do without luxury in exchange for security. I would like to be decked in the finest gems the mountain has to offer."
"A room of my own, one for my own use where no one but I am allowed," Feren whispered, still not looking up.
"I would not ask for anything," Réann scoffed. "For if it is a gift he wishes to give, then shouldn't it be his choice? Yet I would hope he would base such an offering off my likes and desires, having spent the time to find out what those might be and not simply guess. Still, it would be his choice. Not mine."
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This of course had Fili wracking his brain to think of what Réann would like as a gift, and what he could give her that would make her smile. Obviously not something silly like a dress, though he could think of quite a few garments he would like to see her in. No, he would have to give it a great deal of thought and come up with just the right gift. Something that would show her that he understood her better than any other.
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"What would be your first command as queen?" was Balin's next question to the dams.
"That my parents be brought to Erebor and housed in the most lavish of apartments and waited on by at least a dozen servants," Jorhild smiled, just imagining how they would praise her for being such a thoughtful daughter.
"That they never run out of these tea-cakes," came Estur's response, though Balin wasn't sure if it was her official answer or simply the lass thinking out loud.
"That Erebor form a stronger alliance with the Firebeard clan, elevating them to the status of right-hand to the king, for only then will we have the strength to defeat our enemies," Mirev stated.
"Oh, please, as if your measly clan could ever out-fight the Ironfists," Gorta huffed. "Ours is the true warrior clan. Not yours!"
At this, Mirev rose and drew back her fist, more than prepared to slam it into Gorta's face. Only Balin's shout to halt stopped them from getting into an all-out brawl.
"I warned you twice, Ladies," he growled, bringing his fist down on the desk in irritation. "Now I must ask the both of you to leave this meeting and return to your rooms. The guards will escort you there, making sure you do not continue this unseemly behavior in the halls." And pulling on a cord near his desk, one of the female sentries entered and did indeed escort the two grumbling dams from the room. "Now, with those two gone, perhaps we can continue. Though, I suppose this will have to be the final question, since it would be unfair for us to go any further." He then nodded to Lady Feren, indicating that she be the next to answer. Yet, with her head bowed, she didn't see his gesture, leaving Réann to nudge the silent lass to get her attention.
"My first order as queen would be that we close the gates, discontinue all relations with Dale and the Woodland Realm, and keep only to ourselves and our own people. Mingling with other races is unwise and weakens our heritage and traditions of old," Feren spoke up, this time actually putting a bit of conviction behind her words.
"Why on earth would you want to do that?" came Réann's reply, turning a shocked expression on the Stonefoot lass. "Erebor is only strengthened by their allies, and no one can stand if they isolate themselves from all around them! Trade with Dale worked in the past under King Thrór, and it will only increase under the rule of King Thorin. And while some still do see the elves as enemies, it's a great testament to Erebor's wisdom that they have shown the courage to make peace with them. My first command as queen, would be to continue on with the improvements and progress set forth by King Thorin. And I can only hope that Prince Fili sees things the same way."
"Well, thank you Ladies," Balin broke in, fearful that Feren might suddenly grow a backbone and take umbrage with what Réann had said. And thought he would have sided with the Stiffbeard lass, he knew he was not there to play favorites, simply to record the answers they had given. "I am grateful to each of you for taking time out of your day to come and speak with me. I will be certain that the prince, as well as the king, is made privy to your responses. Now, I wish you all a fine afternoon." Here he tugged on the cord once more and signaled the guards to escort them back to their rooms, flopping back in his chair with a relieved sigh the moment the door shut behind them. "Well, that's something I never wish to do again," he chuckled to himself.
Still, he had gleaned quite a bit from this meeting, and he hoped that it would aid Fili in making a more informed choice. So, rising to his feet, he walked over to a large clay pitcher that held an ornately carved walking stick, a gift given to him by his brother as a joke of sorts, but he had kept it nonetheless. Lifting it in his hand, he headed for his wardrobe and stuck the stick through the two silver handles on the front, effectively barring it from the outside.
"I know you're in there, Fili," he stated, turning and leaning his back against the doors as he crossed his arms over his chest. He waited for a moment, only to be answered by the hesitant voice of Kili.
"No…he's not," the dark-haired prince replied, yet none too convincingly.
"Ah, then it's the both of you," Balin deduced. "Spying on the candidates is not in good form, especially for a couple of princes. Your uncle would not be pleased if he heard of this."
"You won't tell him, will you?" came Fili's urgent plea, jiggling the door a bit in hopes of speaking to Balin face to face.
"I suppose you'll just have to wait and see," the older dwarf replied, pushing off the wardrobe as he strode towards the door.
"Balin? Wait!" came Kili's urgent call. "I have to use the water-closet!" When no answer came besides the slamming of a door, he pounded on the wood even harder. "Balin? I'm not joking here. I really have to go!"
"Forget it, Naddith," Fili sighed, repositioning himself as he sat back down on the wardrobe floor. "He's gone."
"But, Fili…I really, really have to go!" Kili persisted.
"Well, unless you intend on soiling yourself in here, I suggest you hold it," was the only reply he could offer.
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Thankfully, Balin didn't keep them waiting in suspense for long, having gone to get himself a bit of ale to sooth his frayed nerves. After dealing with most of the dams he felt he deserved a full keg, but the one quick mug would have to do…for now. Reentering his office, he slid the cane out of the handles and opened the door. Like a shot, Kili jumped from his hiding place and raced out of the room, only calling out a word of apology over his shoulder as he ran.
"He was about a minute away from completely soiling your wardrobe, not to mention his trousers," Fili told the adviser as he climbed out and stood before him in a penitent manner. "I'm sorry we spied like we did. But if it helps, I couldn't see a thing from in there, so it's not like I got a look at any of them. And really, I only heard what you were going to let me read later anyway. So what was the harm?"
"The harm was that you two were so noisy I'm surprised all six lasses didn't figure out you were in there," Balin huffed, folding his arms over his chest in a stern manner. "Do I need to tell my brother that you two require a refresher course in stealth?"
"Mahal, no!" Fili balked. "Last time he tied bells to our boots and made us walk around until we could do so without making a single sound. Even assigning us demeaning chores every time we failed!"
"Then next time, keep your brother's yap shut in there," Balin laughed, his stern look breaking into a wide grin. "Although, you better not let me catch you trying a trick like that on me again, you hear?"
"Yes, Balin," Fili nodded, knowing that he wasn't truly upset with them. "And you won't tell Thorin about this…or Dwalin?"
"Not this time, for if truth be told, I think you hearing firsthand how the dams responded to your questions was helpful," he mused, running his fingers through his impressively long beard. "I take it that you overheard all that was said…and how it was said."
"Aye, I did," Fili replied, rolling his eyes at some of the answers they had given.
"Good," Balin then went to his desk and picked up the parchment he had transcribed the meeting on, rolling it up before handing it to him. "And while I have no intention of giving you my personal opinion on the matter. I will say that while several would be acceptable choices, only one of them stood out as the diamond among the rough." When Fili opened his mouth, eager to confirm that he meant Réann, Balin held up his hands in protest. "No! Not another word, Fili. This is your decision alone. And you really shouldn't make up your mind until you've spent time with each one in person. Not to mention the fact that Lady Dola has yet to arrive. However, I think we both know that she was only selected because she has no intention of becoming your bride, thus her feelings will not be injured when she is not chosen."
"You know that Dola is craft-wed too?" Fili asked, unaware that it was common knowledge. "How?"
"Dwalin told me," Balin explained, a wide grin coming to his lips. "He once made an offer to the lass in hopes of finding out if she might be his One."
"And he got a firm no, I take it?" Fili snickered.
"A firm no and a black eye if I recall correctly," the advisor confirmed, chuckling as well. "Still, the bottom line is that you have six very beautiful lasses to choose from. Some more fitted to rule than others, in my opinion, but that is not for me to say. Do not rush things, and don't let a pretty face and fine figure be your only deciding factors. Brains, compassion, and a quick wit are qualities befitting a queen."
"As well as loyalty, honor, and a willing heart," Fili agreed, repeating his uncle's qualifications for any who wished to remain in his service. "I will not take this decision lightly, Balin. You can count on it."
"I trust you, Lad," the white-haired dwarf stated, slapping him on the back. "You have grown into a fine dwarrow, one I respect and will gladly one day follow as my king." He then jerked his head towards the door. "Now, go find your brother and tell him next time not to drink so much before he decides to hide in someone's wardrobe!"
"I will," Fili laughed. "Thanks, Balin." And away he went, feeling pretty good about everything he had overheard that day.
And there you go...Fili knows more about each dam now...and still believes that he has chosen the best of the bunch.
I think Balin agrees with him.
Poor Kili...how embarrassing for him. Glad he didn't soil himself.
Guest Reviews:
Jillian Baade : Yep, deeper and deeper every day. But we're having fun watching him do it. And of course it HAD to be Thranduil. And if not...Glorfindel or the twins.