Chapter 51

~X~

Dis had arrived at the dining hall just in time to see Dwalin whisking a confused looking Bergie from the room, leaving a very stunned Thorin in their wake. From the doorway she watched a range of emotions cross her brother's face before he stood suddenly, threw his napkin down onto the table, and stormed out the back exit as well. She could tell whatever happened had left him irritable and grumpy, yet stewing about it and allowing it to fester would not solve the problem. With a heavy sigh, the kind she often reserved for Thorin alone, she made her way after him.

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Thorin entered his study and slammed the door behind him, stalking over to his desk and sitting down in a huff. Damn that pesky little hobbit! Here he had been doing just fine trying to avoid thinking of Marigold, and then Miss Bracegirdle had gone and struck up a conversation about the very person he was attempting to forget! He was not sure why things had ended so abruptly, with Dwalin taking her away like that, but he was not about to turn down such a gift. He would have to thank his friend later for interrupting and saving him from further scrutiny.

Yet…had Bergamot been right? Would he be looked down upon if he chose to court a hobbit lass? Thorin was aware that, in the past, one of his kinsmen had married a daughter of men, even if it had been kept a closely guarded family secret. He had often wondered at the dwarrow's daring to do such a thing, to pursue and marry a non-dwarf lass…what had he been thinking? Still, if there had been children, as he indeed heard tell there were, that could mean only one thing…he had found his one. They of course had gone off together, to start their lives away from others who might object, but from the stories passed down, they had lived happily until the end of their days. Some of their offspring had even integrated back into dwarf society without any stigma attached to their mixed race…if any had even noticed at all.

Could he do the same? Could he allow himself to follow his heart and go against all that was expected of him as a king? He felt so unsure…so utterly torn.

"Thorin?" came a voice from the doorway, causing him to turn his gaze towards its source…his sister.

"If you are here to lecture me on something I have done wrong, I am not in the mood," he told her, waving his hand in a dismissive manner, even though he knew it would do little good. "I have already had my backside chewed upon by an equally forceful lass, and the last thing I need is for you to jump on board as well."

"The trouble with you, Thorin Oakenshield, is that you are never in the mood to hear my counsel, and yet I have never found you more in need of it." By now Dis had fully entered the room and was taking a seat next to her despondent brother, doing her best to look encouraging and not accusatory. "I saw your rather hasty exit from the dining hall…care to tell me what has you in such a lather?"

"No," he grumbled, not wishing to dwell on that particular subject any further.

"Perhaps I can guess then," Dis continued, not so easily deterred. "Might it have something to do with a certain hobbit named Marigold?"

Thorin's face cycled through an array of expressions, ranging from shock, betrayal, anger, and then mortification, causing him to lean his head back against the chair and shut his eyes in defeat.

"Does everyone in the whole mountain know?" he moaned. "Am I now a laughingstock?"

"No, of course not," she assured him sympathetically. "But, Thorin, I am your sister…did you not think I would notice your interest in the lass? And for the record, I think she is lovely and couldn't be happier for the both of you." She then raised her eyebrow in a questioning manner. "Assuming, of course, that you are happy about it, and wish to pursue it."

"I…I don't know what I am," he said with a heavy sigh. "I find her mystifying, and do not know how to define what I am feeling. But it matters not, for I refuse to do anything about it…for both our sakes."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" she questioned, leaning in a bit closer, doing her best to keep him talking. The last thing she needed was for him to shut down, much like he always did. "How can denying your feelings be beneficial for either one of you?"

"She is a hobbit…I am a dwarf," he explained, his tone making it seem like that alone should be enough.

"Thorin, I think we all know that interracial marriages are not completely unheard of in Middle Earth," Dis said with an exasperated shake of her head. "Granted, there have not been many who choose to mix with dwarves, but I blame that mostly on the height difference, not incompatibility. Yet that would not be an issue with you and Marigold."

"Perhaps not," Thorin nodded, conceding on that point. "Yet what about our ages? She is a young lass, fresh and green as a spring morning, and I am a weather-beaten, careworn, grumpy, old dwarrow who will soon be gumming his food and needing assistance to get around! Why would she wish to bind herself to that…and what kind of cad would I be to force such a life upon her?"

"Oh, I hardly think you are ready for the rocking chair just yet, brother dear," Dis laughed, yet quickly sobered when she saw that he was completely serious. "Thorin, you are of the line of Durin, and he was not called deathless for nothing! You are still in your prime, and due to stay that way for many more decades to come."

"Yet wouldn't Marigold prefer to have a mate she could grow old with?" Thorin asked, giving her an almost pitiful stare. "And not be forced to watch him wither away and die centuries before her? I saw how our father, grandfather, and even you, Dis, suffered at the loss of your one. I would not wish to put any lass, much less one as sweet as she, through such an ordeal."

"Thorin," Dis said slowly, giving him a confused look. "How long do you imagine hobbits live?"

"I…I don't know," he was forced to admit, his head coming up at the realization that he truly had no clue. "I…I just assumed they lived as long as dwarves. I mean, Bilbo is really the only hobbit I have ever come in contact with, and he has not appeared to age at all in the past ten years that I have known him. I suppose I never thought about it. Do you know?"

"As a matter of fact I do," she informed him, folding her arms over her chest and leaning back in her chair, a smug smile gracing her lips. She was now very glad she had been so nosy when speaking with Prim, and the lass had been a fount of information. "Hobbits, my dear brother, age more quickly than dwarves. The average lifespan of a Halfling is only around one-hundred years, the oldest one on record being someone called The Old Took, at one-hundred and thirty. So while Marigold is indeed still in the springtime of her life, in hobbit terms, you would only be categorized as late summer to early fall. Not much difference to my way of thinking, with plenty of time for you both to share a very long and fulfilling life together…if you would only get off your majestic arse and do something about it! If it is time that truly worries you…you are wasting it right now!"

Thorin looked away, as if in deep thought. Dis could practically see his mind turning over this new information, as Erebor's mighty king did the math and mental calculations concerning the little hobbit lass.

"So…by the time I reach two-hundred and fifty…" he muttered.

"She would be approaching her twilight years as well, matching you grey hair for grey hair," Dis finished. She watched as he thought this over some more, but gave a sigh of frustration when she saw Thorin shake his head in denial.

"However, age aside, Marigold is still of another race, and what would the inhabitants of Erebor think if their king chose a hobbit lass for a bride?" he maintained, still not willing to give up his argument.

"Who cares what they think!" she huffed.

"Should we ever have children, they could never inherit the throne after me," he pointed out, noting that she was not quick to contradict him on this point. "Only a full blooded dwarf of Durin's line would ever be accepted as ruler of Erebor…or any other dwarf kingdom."

"Then…it is a good thing you have already named Fili as your successor," she stated, sounding perfectly content with her answer. "Thorin, think about this…yes, if you wed Marigold, your children would not inherit the throne…that is a sad fact, but a fact nonetheless. However, if you chose not to marry the lass, your children will still never inherit Erebor, because there won't be any children! Either way, Fili takes the throne after you…I fail to see the difference!" She then leaned forward and placed a comforting hand on her brother's arm. "Just the fact that you are thinking of children makes me believe that you are more attached to her than you realize. I happen to like her very much, she is smart, brave, industrious, and not afraid to speak her mind. If you want a lass to love, and who can grow old beside you…you could not have chosen a more perfect match." She then let a wide grin spread across her face. "And perhaps you didn't…perhaps it was Mahal himself who handpicked Marigold just for you. Now I will admit that when Flinn and I first felt the stirrings of our bond, we both drew back as well, unsure of what we were feeling. But once I knew for sure, as did he, we did not let anyone – not even Grandfather – stand in our way of being together. Yes, there might have been the odd stares over a princess marrying a miner, but no one can argue when you recognize your one." Dis's eyes narrowed slightly and she gave her brother a pointed stare. "Have you experienced any of the typical signs that indicate she is your one?"

The dream about Marigold carrying his unborn child, and the little lassie he had held in his arms, came flooding back, causing an unbidden smile to touch his lips. Oh, how he dwelt on that vision, cherished it in fact, and so desperately longed for it to become a reality.

"You have!" Dis shouted, standing up and bracing her hands on his desk. "You know for a fact that Marigold is the one created for you, and you choose to do nothing? You would throw such a gift back in Mahal's face?" Now she was upset and began to pace back and forth in front of him, throwing up her hands in irritation. "I can't believe how thick-headed you are! If Marigold is your one, you should rejoice! Embrace it…and her! And yet, here you sit, stewing about age difference and the fact that she is of another race, when all you should be thinking about is how wonderful it could all be!" She then leveled her eye directly on him, giving him a scalding stare. "If I had the opportunity to spend one more day, even one more hour, with my one, I would move mountains to see it done. Yet, I will never get the chance to see my Flinn again…while you would willingly throw away such a precious treasure simply out of fear of what others might think? Where is the Thorin who led us across the wastelands after being driven out of Erebor? Where is the Thorin who united his people in the Blue Mountains when no one thought it was possible? And where is the Thorin who set out to kill a dragon with only a company of twelve dwarves and one hobbit? That Thorin Oakenshield would not let a few naysayers stop him from going after what he wanted. And that is the Thorin I proudly call my brother…and king!"

Now visibly stunned by Dis' words, and even looking a bit shamed by them, he opened his mouth to speak, but before he could respond, there came a loud pounding on the door, followed by a deep voice.

"Thorin…are you in there?" came Dwalin's call.

The odd tone of their cousin caused both Thorin and Dis to look at each other questioningly. Did Dwalin sound…happy?

"Enter," Thorin called out, standing as he watched his captain and war chief stride into the room with a very ecstatic hobbit in tow. "What is this about?" he asked, his eyes going from the grinning dwarf to the lass at his side in confusion.

"We want to get married!" Dwalin announced, a hint of color tinting his bristly face. "Now!"

"WHAT?" Dis squealed, her own face instantly breaking out into a wide grin. "Married? When did this happen…how?"

"About ten minutes ago," Bergie spoke up, latching onto Dwalin's muscular arm with both hands as she leaned against him. "He asked, and I accepted."

"But…now?" Thorin repeated, looking very flummoxed by this turn of events. "Do you not want to…think about it first?"

"What's to think about? She is my one!" Dwalin then leaned in a bit, fixing his king and friend with a pointed stare. "No doubt about it…none."

Thorin's eyebrows rose in shock and he could not help his eyes darting downwards for a brief second, before pulling them respectfully back to his cousin's beaming face.

"None," Dwalin restated, knowing that Thorin now got the point. "So, why wait? I love her, she loves me, and we both see no reason to waste time. How long will it take to get the ceremony arranged? You worked up Fili and Sier's wedding in one day…but we wish to be wed immediately."

"What?" Dis barked, looking a bit aghast. "No fancy dress, no flowers …nothing?"

"I couldn't give a hoot about flowers or all the trappings," Dwalin stated.

"And if he is willing to take me as I am, I would happily marry him in what I am wearing right now," Bergie agreed. "I have never been one to stand on tradition, and it isn't like I have a big family to impress or anything. A small, simple, quick wedding will do me just fine."

"Well at least let us gather the company and your hobbit friends together first," Dis insisted. "They would be furious if they missed out on this!"

"Oh, dear!" Bergie suddenly cried, her hands going to her head as she looked at Dwalin in shock. "I have not even told Marigold yet! I must go and inform her immediately…for I insist that she stand up for me as my maid of honor!"

"Your what?" Dwalin asked, not familiar with the concept or title.

"My maid of honor…don't dwarves have those at their weddings?" she asked.

"Never heard of such a thing," the bald warrior admitted. Dis also gave a shake of her head, not having ever had the pleasure of attending a hobbit marriage ceremony.

"But I can't have a maid of honor without someone from your side to escort her," Bergie argued. "You must name someone to stand up for you during the ceremony. It is a position of great respect, usually filled by your best friend or a relative."

"Very well, if you want me to have one, have one I shall," he assured her, leaning in to place a kiss on her cute button nose. He then turned and looked over at Thorin expectantly. "Will you stand up for me and escort Marigold as directed?"

This question caused the dwarf king's eyes to grow wide and Dis to let out a little snort of laughter – which she quickly covered over by coughing a few times and patting her chest.

"I…I am flattered that you would ask, but I must decline," he insisted, and before anyone could argue with him, he produced a very good excuse as to why. "I will be called upon to perform the ceremony…you will have to ask Balin."

"Ah, yes, you are correct," Dwalin nodded, satisfied by his reasoning. "Balin would get a kick out of being my dwarf of honor. Besides, I will do anything to please my little bride to be."

"Careful, Dwalin," Bergie smirked, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in a bit closer, "I might just hold you to that." And giving him a quick, yet hardly chaste, kiss on the lips, she turned and scurried towards the door. "I will hurry as quickly as I can, and then I will meet you…" she stopped when she realized she had no idea where the ceremony would take place.

"I will accompany you now and give you directions," Dis stated, coming to the rescue. "I need to tell the others anyway, and we can't have the bride getting lost, now can we?" She hurried to catch up with the excited little hobbit, almost as anxious as Bergie to see this done.

Thorin and Dwalin were now left alone, both staring at each other – one with a wide grin and the other with a look of shock.

"Are…are you sure?" Thorin asked, hardly believing what he had just heard was true.

"Never been more certain about anything in my life," Erebor's war chief affirmed. "I mean I knew from the moment we met that she was special, but when I kissed her…well, that is what sealed the deal!"

"You kissed her?" Thorin was intrigued. "Where?"

"In a broom closet or something," he replied.

"Not where in the mountain…where on her person!" the frustrated king chided, his mood growing even more surly as he saw that his oldest friend was having sport with him.

"Right smack on her lips, and I must say, I never knew anything could be as sweet and exhilarating as that!" Dwalin raised his eyebrows up and down a few times in quick succession. "You should try it sometime, Thorin, I think you would like it. And something tells me that a certain little hobbit lass I know might make you a very willing partner in the experiment."

"Now you just hold on," Thorin growled, crossing his arms and staring at Dwalin with narrowed eyes. "Just because you seem to have lost your mind, does not mean that I am destined to follow you!"

"Have it your way, Cousin," the bald warrior laughed, his spirits not dampened by his king's attitude. "But if this is insanity…let the madness continue!"

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Marigold had just finished her fifth consolatory sweet biscuit, and was lying on the sofa staring at the fireplace, when the door burst open with such force it struck the wall on the other side.

"Mari!" Bergie called as she came rushing in.

"What's the matter?" the younger hobbit gasped as she leapt to her feet in a fit of panic. "Are we under attack?"

"No! Nothing like that," she laughed, seeing her niece's eyes dart to where they kept their meager weapons. "I'm getting married!"

"You…you're what?" Marigold stammered, not quite sure she had heard correctly. "Married? To whom?"

"To Dwalin of course!" she barked, not sure if she should be flattered that it could be believed that she had more than one suitor, or miffed that Mari had not been paying enough attention to her pursuit of her handsome warrior.

"How…when…I don't understand," the younger hobbit lass was still so stunned that she had to sit down before she fell down.

"I didn't quite understand either, until I got filled in on the facts about dwarves by a couple of helpful dams," Bergie admitted, grinning from ear to ear to learn that they had been right all along. "You see, we were talking in a linen closet and then he…"

"What were you doing in a linen closet?" Mari broke in, trying her best to make heads or tales of all this.

"Talking!" Bergie huffed. "I just told you that, do try and keep up. Anyway, while we were talking, he hauled off and kissed me…right on the lips! And that did it…BAM! Next thing I know, he was proposing marriage and I was accepting. He is talking with Thorin right now, and we are fixing to get hitched tonight!"

"Tonight?" Marigold felt like a myna bird, repeating everything it heard, but she couldn't help herself. "You can't get married on such short notice!"

"Why not?" she countered.

"Because…well, because…" Mari replied in a flustered voice.

"Yes? I am waiting for your reasons," she invited, leaning in a little closer as if straining to hear.

"I…I guess I don't have any reasons. Not any good ones, at least," Miss Brandybuck admitted. "But still, don't you want to think it over first? Get to know Mister. Dwalin better? Marriage is a big step, and you know what they say, 'act in haste, repent at your leisure'."

"Nope, I couldn't be more sure of this if I took ten years to mull it over, and I have no intention of wasting another moment!" Bergie said with a shake of her head. "I have never felt this way about anyone, not once in all my life. So I know it is right and I am going to jump at this chance. Dwalin is everything I want in a husband, and I will make sure he never wants for more in a wife." She then looked at Marigold with concern in her eyes. "You…you are not upset about this, are you?"

"Upset?" she gasped. "Why would I be upset?"

"Because I am getting married while Thorin is…well, treating you rather abominably at the moment." Bergie explained.

"Just because someone I may have found mildly interesting decides that I am not worth his time, does not mean I am going to begrudge you your moment of joy or a lifetime of happiness!" Marigold assured her with a big smile, standing up and coming over to throw her arms around her favorite aunt. "You are not really that much older than me, and I have always looked upon you as big sister, instead of a matronly aunt. So I can say without any shadow of a doubt, that I am most delighted for you…tickled even!"

"Excellent!" Bergie laughed, hugging her back fiercely. "Then would you be willing to stand in as my maid of honor?"

"Willing to? I would be honored to do so!" Marigold squealed. "Who is standing up for Dwalin?" Her eyes quickly became fearful. "It is not Thorin, is it?"

"No, the king will be performing the ceremony," she quickly reassured her. "Dwalin is going to ask his brother, Balin. Will that suit you?"

"Yes, much better, thank you," she giggled. "I would hate to ruin your wedding by having to trip my escort while walking up the aisle. And right now, my extremely damaged pride would require no less, I am afraid."

This caused both hobbit lasses to dissolve into laughter as they joyfully hugged each other again.

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Meanwhile, Dwalin had left Thorin's study and hurried to his brother's chambers, conveniently located across the hall from his own. He knew that Bergie had said she did not desire any fancy clothes for their wedding, but the least he could do was clean up and put on something a bit nicer – right after he spoke with his brother. When he entered Balin's quarters, with an uncharacteristically large grin on his face and without even bothering to knock, it made Balin do a double take.

"And why do you appear so pleased with yourself this evening, brother?" the white haired dwarf asked, balancing an armful of scrolls he would need for the next day's meetings, as he crossed the room.

"No reason," Dwalin shrugged, though he continued to grin like a loon. "No reason at all, except that…" here he paused for dramatic effect, "…I am getting married."

Balin's jaw dropped open, and the scrolls he had been carrying did as well, hitting the floor all at once. "You are what?"

"Getting married!" Dwalin shouted, throwing his arms wide as his nadad rushed forward to embrace him in delight.

"Well, you certainly don't waste any time once you set your mind to something!" Balin laughed, once the two had parted. "Congratulations, brother! I couldn't be more pleased if I tried, honestly!"

"I am glad you feel that way," Dwalin nodded, looking at is brother in anticipation. "Because not only are we getting hitched tonight, but you will be required to stand up for me in some strange hobbit tradition. You will be escorting Miss Marigold, who will be filling the position of maid of honor to my Bergie."

"Tonight?" Once again, Balin was left speechless…but not for long. "Well, I suppose we best find you something suitable to wear! Can't have you getting married in your everyday furs and leathers!" And as quick as his old legs would allow, he hurried out of the room, only to return with a small trunk that he laid on the table. "Here, try these on for size."

Dwalin eyed his brother skeptically and then looked inside the weathered case, his eyebrows shooting up as he spied the items within.

"These belonged to…" he all but whispered, not able to finish his sentence.

"To Father…yes," Balin nodded. "These were the clothes he married our mother in. I found them stored in their old rooms after we retook the mountain. I kept them safe for…well, for an occasion such as this. I think you and he were just about the same size. And I believe it would have pleased him to have you wear them at your wedding."

Dwalin reached in and picked up the fine tunic and breeches that were embroidered with their family sigil, running his hands over the intricate stitching with a feeling of nostalgia and pride. These had been worn by the mighty Fundin on the day he had pledged his life to their beautiful mother, Mora.

"Do you think our parents would have approved of me marrying Bergie?" he asked, never taking his eyes off his father's tunic.

"They would have loved her like a daughter," Balin smiled, his eyes becoming a bit misty. "Just as I will love her like a sister. If she makes you happy, brother, then she will be welcomed like family by everyone who cares for you. Never doubt it."

"There might be some who will object," Dwalin pointed out, never having been one to ignore the obvious.

"There will always be those who object no matter what we choose to do," Balin nodded. "That is the price we paid when we joined the company and retook the mountain. We have been under the scrutiny of all ever since, but does it matter to you what some idiots think?"

"Not in the least," Dwalin chuckled.

"Then don't let it bother you," his brother nodded. "Just be happy. Like I am for you." He reached up and wiped at his watery eyes and laughed. "Now, let's get you dressed and then find me something fitting to wear as well, I have never had to escort a maid of honor before. I hope I don't trip!"

Don't worry Balin, as long as you are not Thorin, Marigold will not try and trip you. ha ha.

So, what did you think of Dis' talk with Thorin...think she got through to him at last?

Dwalin does not do anything slow, right? Kiss, wake up, propose and marry all in the same night. Zip, zap, zoom!

I think Balin is going to love being the 'best-dwarf' and standing up for his brother, not to mention gaining a sister-in-law!

Now, be sure to dress nice for the next chapter, grab a box of tissues and get ready for some good belly laughs. A wedding is afoot!

Guest Reviews:

ValarenOfGondor: Dwalin was a bit of the super hero there, wasn't he? Good for him. Nope, I was not about to let some big jealous misunderstanding last for more than five minutes. Shocked you with the outcome, did I? I think Bergie yelled for joy too when he smooched her face off. Thorin will always be a pain, but he will smarten up soon enough. Dis and her team has lots of plans for Thorin, and if I were him, I would run. ha ha. Thanks!

Guest: Thanks, I am glad you think it is awesome!

Mjean: Well...I think he put it a bit more tactfully...but yes, that is pretty much the meaning behind the sentiment. Subtlety is not Dwalin's strong suit...but then again, isn't not for Bergie either. Thanks.

Aranel Mereneth: Yes, Fili might LOOK like his dad, but underneath he is all Durin. Kili might often be the motivation behind a prank, but Fili is the brains. ha ha. Remember, he was always the one who thought it through so nothing went wrong and no one got hurt...he was also the look out. ha ha. Hopefully soon, you will be able to stop calling Thorin a dumb Durin. ha ha. we will see. Thanks.

enilorac44: I hope you got a nice bit of sleep before this one came out and you were forced to read again. ha ha. Glad you liked it.