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Well, I had a very productive weekend! I got two and a half chapters done, and one of them I KNOW you will all enjoy when we get there. hee hee. But more about that later. For now, let us check in on Thorin and see how he is doing with this courtship thing. I have high hopes.

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Chapter 57

~X~

And so the courtship of Marigold Brandybuck and Thorin Oakenshield was underway – closely monitored by Bilbo and Dis, just to make sure there were no further cultural blunders. They dined together whenever possible, and Thorin even took time out of his busy schedule to take her on a walk or two around the mountain. Bergie and Bilbo were always prepared to offer their services as chaperones, however, most of the time they deemed it unnecessary - as long as the couple stayed in common areas, where all the eyes of Erebor were upon them.

Marigold felt like she was walking on air, never having realized just how head over heels she was for Thorin. Oh, she knew she fancied him, but until he actually started paying attention to her…she had no idea how deep her feelings ran. Still, she did her best to control her emotions and stood firm to her resolve that he court her properly, as well as give her the time she felt she needed. After all, marriage was a huge commitment…as was the idea that should she say yes, Mari would become a queen. Still, with each passing day, she could feel her concerns dwindling.

Thorin too, was enormously pleased with the way things were going, and had even begun to rest a bit easier, no longer second guessing his every word or deed. Turns out, Marigold was not as difficult to figure out as he had originally thought. Though he had to admit that asking her what she was thinking, or her opinion on something, proved very helpful in that regard. As a king, he knew that communication was essential to maintaining a strong kingdom, as well as good allies, but he quickly found it worked just as well when courting a lass. Who would have thought?

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A week had passed since the flower debacle, and Marigold received a note from Thorin, asking if she would join him on a special tour after breakfast. With a squeal of glee, she quickly hurried to eat and dress, knowing that he was always painfully punctual. And though the little hobbit often missed the slow and unscheduled pace of the Shire - where nothing began or ended on time - she was quickly getting used to the hive of activity in Erebor, where everything seemed to run like clockwork.

So it was, at ten bells exactly, there came a knock at her door. Dressed and ready, she opened the door and greeted him with a wide smile.

"A special tour, you say?" she asked, giggling slightly as he bowed to her in respect. She was becoming accustomed to such things from Thorin, him always displaying perfect manners. It was hardly necessary for him to do such things, but she found it adorable and rather sweet. "Might we be heading to the burial chambers…or the stables perhaps?"

"Why on earth would I take you there?" Thorin asked in shock, but then recalling her time spent with Kili, he gave a huff of indignation. "I still have no idea what my brainless nephew was thinking by giving you a tour of those locations." However, Thorin was infinitely glad that his youngest sister-son had chosen those harmless sites to show Marigold, and not anyplace too dark, secluded or romantic. He loved his nephew dearly, but if Kili had dared to set his sights on Marigold…well, they would definitely be having words. But the lad was still young, and perhaps one day he would find a dam to his liking, and Thorin wondered if a little dwarrow to dwarrow talk might soon be in order. Especially on the subject of where a lass might, or might not, enjoy being taken on a tour. Yet, currently who was he to give lessons in love, especially when Thorin himself was still fumbling along like a blind goat? He only hoped by the time Kili showed any interest in the fairer sex… he would be in a better position to educate the lad.

"Then where are we going?" Marigold's question breaking him out of his thoughts.

"It is a surprise, but one I think you will find most pleasant," Thorin assured her, tucking her hand in the crook of his arm once more as he led her out the door and down the corridors. There were a few dwarrow that paused to stare at their king, looking at him and his companion questioningly, though to his satisfaction, none of them seemed to disapprove. Thorin hoped if he was seen in the hobbit lass' company enough, when he went to announce their engagement, no one would be overly shocked. Of course that all depended upon whether this whole courtship thing went as planned…and if Marigold said yes.

They walked for quite a distance, taking so many twists and turns that Mari was quickly lost. She knew the mountain kingdom was vast, but she began to wonder if she would ever feel at home in such a maze-like city. Just when she felt she would never find her way back, Thorin led her into an enormous cavern, with sunlight streaming in from several crystal shafts overhead. But what drew her immediate attention were the half dozen glistening fountains spread around the room, each one creating a melody of trickling water as they filled and overflowed.

"Oh…Thorin," Marigold gasped, taking a few steps closer and allowing her fingers to glide over the smooth silver vessels of dancing liquid. "This is…is…oh, I can't even think of words to describe it!"

"Did I not say that there were many amazing places in Erebor, filled with light, beauty and wonder?" he reminded her, referring to his words in the burial tombs where he had found Kili giving her a tour. "Besides, the old songs do not name the king of Erebor as the 'lord of silver fountains' for nothing," he chuckled, very pleased to see Marigold's reaction.

This chamber had always been one of Thorin's favorite spots in Erebor, and he had often come here over the past ten years, just to think. The sound of the fountains seemed to calm him, uncloud his mind, and make things clearer. And while he had toured many lords and ladies through here before, he had never dreamed that one day he would be sharing it with someone of such vast importance…at least to him.

"Are these truly made of silver?" Marigold asked, dipping her fingers into the shimmering pools.

"That they are," he nodded. "My grandfather himself helped create the molds for them when he first retook Erebor. Thrór may have loved gold, but his true craft was silver-smithing. No dwarf could create such intricate designs as he. He was a true artist." As he spoke, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a delicate silver chain. Suspended on the end was a beautiful rose, also wrought in silver, reflecting the light from the watery fountains. "He crafted this in fact, for my grandmother, Dolma. I know I made a mess of trying to give you flowers before, but this time I looked it up…and roses truly do send the message I wish to convey."

Marigold's eyes grew wide at the sight of such a beautiful gift. The fact that he had given her a rose, which symbolized many facets of love – depending on the color chosen – made her heart leap with joy. Still, she wished he would just come out and say the words himself. For that is what she truly needed…confirmation.

"Thorin, I am truly touched by the gesture, but can't accept such a sentimental heirloom as this," Marigold protested, unwilling for him to part with his grandmother's necklace.

"Please," he urged, holding it out before her. "It would mean very much to me if you did. I know that Bilbo said that hobbits put more stock in flowers and growing things than they do gold or gems, but I thought this might be an acceptable compromise. A little bit of your world, and a little bit of mine. It would truly please me to see you wearing it, Mari."

She paused only a few moments before relenting and nodding in agreement, unable to turn down such a heartfelt plea. Turning slightly, she allowed him to place the necklace around her neck, touching the cool silver flower as her eyes missed up slightly. This was truly a precious gift. When she faced him once again, he smiled at her, giving a happy sigh.

"It looks perfect," Thorin assured her. "I am sure that Thrór would be pleased to know it is once again being worn by such a beautiful lass." He then allowed his mind to wander back, thinking of his grandfather and the love he had shown to his own one, Dolma. They had truly been a devoted couple, and no one in the mountain could deny it.

"I love the way your face lights up when you speak about your family," Marigold told him, sitting down on the edge of one of the fountains with a warm smile. "I am sure Thrór was an amazing king."

"That he was," Thorin nodded. "Though not without his faults…much like myself."

"Stop beating yourself up like that," she instructed, her smile fading somewhat. "The flowers were a simple misunderstanding, and you have more than apologized, as well as been forgiven."

"And I thank you kindly for your generous spirit in that," he replied, placing his hand on his heart and bowing slightly. "Yet, that is not the fault of which I refer. I speak of the tragedies I caused when I…when I succumbed to gold sickness."

"Gold sickness?" Marigold asked in a confused voice. "What is that?"

Thorin sighed and came over to sit beside her, not having meant to speak of such troubling things so soon in their relationship, and yet she had every right to know.

"It is a curse that haunts all those in the line of Durin," Thorin admitted. "Some more than others, it would seem." He recalled how bad things had become at the end with Thror, as well as himself, while Fili and Kili appeared yet to be touched by such a plague…and he hoped they never would. "It is something I feel you should know about…before things go too far."

"Is it an illness? Were you or your ancestors poisoned?" Marigold asked, her voice filled with worry and concern.

"No…nothing of that sinister nature," he said with a sad shake of his head. "It is an inherent obsession, a deep and unhealthy love for gold that overrides all other thought. My grandfather succumbed to it…my father may have in time as well, and even I – one who knew the symptoms and fought so hard to remain untouched – fell victim to its accursed temptation." Here he paused and looked over at Marigold with deep regret. "When we first returned to Erebor, after Smaug was killed, it nearly drove me insane. There was an army of orcs, wargs and goblins at our gates, bent on destroying everything and everyone, yet all I cared about was the gold and keeping it safe. Dwalin, Fili, and Kili, all tried to pull me from my madness, but I was utterly obsessed…completely blinded to what was truly important."

"What happened?" she asked, never having heard this tale from Bilbo – and from the look of shame on Thorin's face, she could understand why.

"I selfishly put the lives of my kin, my allies, and even one of my dearest friends at risk." He flinched slightly, recalling how he had dangled poor Bilbo over the rampart, threatening to kill him for keeping the Arkenstone from him. "Miraculously, at that moment, when I was on the brink of slipping into oblivion…I thankfully came to my senses."

"Then you overcame the curse? You are cured?" Marigold questioned.

"Not exactly," Thorin said with deep regret. "While gold no longer has the same hold on me, not controlling my every thought…it still calls to me in my weakest hour. It is a continual struggle and I will never be completely free from its seductive lure, but at least I have the knowledge and the strength to fight it. How to turn away and let it be."

"Well, that is a major victory," she insisted, reaching out and placing her hand on his arm. "You should be proud of what you have accomplished. You fought back and didn't let it overtake you."

"If only you knew how difficult the fight was," he lamented, still feeling rather shamed by it all. "But I swear that I will never fall victim again. I won't!"

"I believe you," Marigold told him with a big smile of confidence.

"How can you be so sure?" he asked, shocked by the sureness of her tone.

"Because you are Thorin Oakenshield," she explained, as if that said it all. "The dwarf prince who crossed Middle Earth to reclaim a kingdom…and did so. Who attempted the impossible with only twelve dwarves, one hobbit, and a wizard. The very same dwarrow who united three kingdoms under one banner…a banner of peace."

"It sounds like you have been listening to far too many of Bilbo's tall tales," Thorin was forced to laugh, loving the confidence he saw reflecting in her eyes. If only he felt so sure.

"I will admit to being quite enthralled by Bilbo's stories of his amazing journey to Erebor and back," Marigold confessed, a light blush coming to her cheeks. "But the tales I enjoyed most were the ones of you."

"Oh?" This caused Thorin's chest to stick out just a bit more than usual. "You liked hearing tales of me?"

"Well…you are rather famous in the Shire," she admitted, trying her best to justify her words. "The mysterious dwarf king who appeared in the dead of night, whisking Bilbo away on a daring adventure. It is believed that you used some form of persuasive magic on my dear cousin, since most hobbits would never dream of leaving their homes, especially to face a fire breathing dragon."

"Yet our venerable Mr. Baggins did," Thorin laughed, recalling how his little friend had actually fainted at one point during all the discussion. "And allow me to assure you, I possess no magic or enchantment to influence anyone's decision. For if I did, I promise that I would be using it upon you at this very moment, in hopes of gaining your favor, my lady."

"You need no such charms to gain my favor, oh, mighty king," Marigold assured him, blushing slightly as her hand reached up to finger the little silver rose she now wore.

"And would you have gone on such an adventure, Miss Brandybuck? Would you have left your comfortable home in order to traipse through the wild on such a journey?" Thorin pressed.

"I believe I already have," Marigold told him with pride, her face breaking out into a wide smile. "I'm here, aren't I?"

This made Thorin burst forth with laughter, something that was becoming more and more common since he met this little lass.

"Yes you are, my daring Mari…much to my delight." Thorin truly couldn't have been happier about that fact if he tried. "And was it worth it? Worth breaking custom and convention to see the splendors of Erebor?"

"The Lonely Mountain does indeed live up to all the tales," she admitted. "But it was not the golden halls of Erebor that brought me here." Marigold paused for a moment and looked down at her fidgeting hands in her lap. "It…it was all those tales of its king that made me wish to come."

"Me?" he asked with a start, his jaw dropping open and his eyes growing wide in disbelief. "You…you came for me?"

"Now don't you go getting a swelled head," Mari huffed, hating the way her confession made her sound so shallow, "or thinking me some star struck youngling who only came to catch a glimpse of a renowned hero or something." When Thorin raised a questioning eyebrow, she quickly sputtered on. "I mean, you are a hero…but I don't want you to think…what I meant to say is that…"

"I do not care what it was that brought you hither," Thorin broke in, stopping her in mid fluster. He reached out and took hold of her hands, once more enjoying the feeling of her delicate, yet strong, fingers intertwined with his. "Though I must admit, it fills me with awe that you would come all this way solely on my account."

"Well…like I said, Bilbo's tales were rather…inspirational," she whispered, feeling rather overcome by how he was now looking at her…as if she were the only hobbit in all of Middle Earth.

"And do I measure up to your expectations, my dear?" he asked, reluctantly letting go of her hands and spreading his arms wide in a questioning manner. "Do I live up to my reputation…or sadly disappoint?"

"Oh, you could never disappoint!" Marigold was quick to assure him.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his brows furrowing slightly. "What about when I callously chose to ignore you, or when I stood you up for our ride, or failing to propose before planning our future…and let's not forget the flower disaster."

"Minor details," she laughed, waving them off with her hand. "Water under the bridge."

"I am glad you think so," he chuckled, his heart touched by her ease of forgiveness.

"If truth be told, you far exceeded my expectations the first time we met, Thorin," Mari continued, a slight blush creeping into her cheeks once more. "I was so awestruck, seeing you standing there in the main hall, looking every inch the king of legends. You were so impressive that I could hardly voice my greeting without stumbling over my words. And then when you kissed my hand…well, no one has ever kissed me like that before. From that moment on, I fear that I was smitten."

"Had I only known, I would like to think things between us would have gone a bit smoother," he replied with a thoughtful look. However, the next moment something occurred to him, something he found he was a bit fearful to learn the answer to. "Now, you said no one had ever kissed you like that before. Does that mean that you have indeed been kissed prior to meeting me…and simply not on the hand, as I did?"

Marigold's smile faded in an instant, quickly being replaced by pure dread.

"Does…does it matter?" she begged to know.

"It does to me," Thorin assured her, pulling back just a bit more as he eyed her with trepidation. "I am not a dwarrow who shares my treasure willingly. Have you any other suitors I need to know about?" Or need to kill, Thorin thought to himself, a fire beginning to burn within him.

"I can promise that I have never accepted another lad's offer to court me," she stated quickly, trying her best to defuse what could easily become a volatile situation. She and Thorin were currently on very good terms, and Marigold hated to see that change. "Yet…you willingly confessed something that was obviously very personal to you, so I feel it only right that I do the same." Here she gave a sigh, looking down at her lap once more, afraid to meet his intense gaze. "Yes. I have been kissed before, but only once! And I swear to you that I felt nothing when he did so. Nothing at all compared to what I experienced when you took me in your arms, Thorin. What Olo Miller and I shared very briefly under the party tree was a dreadful disappointment, and nothing I ever wanted to experience again…at least not with him."

"Truly?" Thorin asked, eyeing her with a measure of fear. "You never wished for this Olo fellow to pursue you, or vie for your hand in marriage?"

"If he had offered, I would have turned him down flat," she said solemnly. "Yet, apparently he found it just as unimpressive, for he never bothered to come calling. I fear that I am not exactly what you would call the typical hobbit lass, and most of the lads in the Shire did not see me as marriage material."

Thorin reached out and gently tipped her chin up so that she was looking directly at him, his thumb brushing the soft skin of her cheek.

"They were fools," he insisted, loving the way he felt like he could get lost in her lovely green eyes. "And yet I cannot be too angry with them, for their loss is truly my gain. You are my one, Marigold, and had you chosen to wed a hobbit back in the Shire…well, I cannot even imagine such a horrible twist of fate." He closed his eyes and shook his head slightly, attempting to brush the pain away at the thought. "I will not pressure you, nor will I try and guilt you into choosing me. But know this, to me…you are everything."

"E-e-everything?" she said, swallowing hard to loosen the lump that had formed in her throat.

Thorin had never been the emotional or sentimental kind, at least not in his speech. Yet as he sat there, staring at Marigold as if she were the very air he breathed, words began to bubble up inside him, and he couldn't help but voice them out loud. Reaching out, he took hold of her hand, caressing it gently as he spoke from his heart.

"You are my sun, my moon, and the stars that light the night sky, Marigold," Thorin told her, his voice growing deep and husky. "You hair is like silk," he continued, letting his fingers drift up to caress a stray curl. "Your lips as soft as clovers, and your eyes…oh, your eyes rival the emeralds of Erebor themselves."

"Th-that is quite a compliment," she stammered, her voice hardly above a whisper. "Especially coming from a dwarf who owns his own mines."

"They could be yours as well," he offered, leaning in slightly. "If you marry me, all that is mine I will gladly lay at your feet. Even my life."

"Oh…Thorin," Marigold sighed, her eyes shutting as his lips came ever closer, highly anticipating the kiss she knew was coming.

"Excuse me," came an irritated voice off to the left, followed by the distinct tapping of a bare foot on the marble floor. "I thought we agreed no chaperones only if you two stayed in common areas."

"Bilbo!" Mari gasped, pulling back, her cheeks turning as red as apples.

Thorin, on the other hand, simply looked furious.

"We are in a room that is easily accessed by others, as you have just proven by your confounded appearance," the upset king informed the hobbit. "We broke none of your silly rules."

"No…just bent them to the point of snapping," Bilbo insisted. "So, do you wish me to remain, or would you prefer to take your conversation to a more public location?"

Thorin gave a heavy sigh and turned to Marigold with a look of regret. He had been so close to procuring his second kiss, something he had been looking forward to with great anticipation. Curse that stealthy little burglar!

"Perhaps we should be going," Marigold suggested, sounding just as disappointed as Thorin. "We could try and meet for lunch in the dining hall later, couldn't we?"

"I will see to it," Thorin promised, knowing that he would have to cut a few meetings short in order to do so, but for Mari…anything.

"Fine then," Bilbo said with a satisfied clap of his hands. "Shall I escort you back to your chambers, Marigold?"

"I will retain that pleasure, Master Baggins," Thorin growled, rising to his feet and taking Marigold by the hand. "Follow us if you must, but if you value your life, I would remain at a distance."

"Thorin," Mari said in a scolding tone. "Be nice. He is only trying to be helpful."

"I know," the king admitted, though he still glared at the little hobbit who had interrupted his time alone with the maid. "But right now I could use a little less of his help, and a lot more of his absence."

"Is that so?" Bilbo asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared at his old friend. "Would you rather I give your sister the job of making sure you are minding your manners?"

"Mahal no!" Thorin gasped, suddenly rethinking his words. Dis might be on his side when it came to this courtship, but he also knew that she would be twice as bad as Bilbo when it came to keeping an eye on him. "I take it back. Bilbo, you may chaperone us all you wish." He then escorted Mari towards the door, stopping only briefly as he passed the hobbit. "And perhaps we could keep this little encounter a secret between just the three of us? No need for Dis to find out…is there?"

"Mmmhmm," Bilbo hummed knowingly, seeing that he had Thorin over a barrel, so to speak. "I will keep your secret, as long as you mind your manners and stop trying to steal kisses in secluded places. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Thorin nodded, though once they were past Bilbo, he turned and gave Marigold a sly wink, telling her that he was anything but in agreement. And much to his delight, she didn't voice any protests…only blushed adorably and giggled.

Oh yes, Thorin thought to himself, this courtship was going much better than he had initially expected.

Whoooohooooo, one hurdle down, the "Gold sickness" talk. And she took it well, too.

And who knew Thorin could be so romantically poetic? You go boy!

I think he found the perfect middle ground between flowers and jewelry...best of both worlds.

BILBO...you are NOT helping! Well, you are, but right now Thorin wishes you wouldn't. ha ha.

Guest Reviews:

Mjean: Thanks!

Guest: Yep, Love is indeed in the air...and in the mountain too. ha ha.

enilorac44: For once, RIGHT? But fear not, he will have plenty more chances as things progress. Thanks.