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"You must learn some of my philosophy. Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure."―Jane Austen,Pride and Prejudice
In the week following the incident, as Signi dubbed that disastrous dinner, Erebor had become a flurry of activity. King Thorin finally made his plans known and the entire mountain was abuzz in equal parts agreement and consternation at his decision. A ground breaking ceremony between the kingdoms was scheduled for the following week and Thorin wanted to treat the ceremony with all of the gratuitous pomp Erebor could afford.
After days of debate and discussion with King Bard and his council, an agreement had been made. As a show of allegiance and appreciation for Erebor's financial assistance and trade partnerships, King Bard had agreed to allow the men of Dale to train with the army of dwarves and to provide additional manpower to protect both kingdoms. It was understood that with these new trade agreements from the west came an increased need to patrol the roads for safe passage. Erebor would provide the resources and salaries in exchange for Dale's able-bodied men. Training grounds would be built between the kingdoms, as well as barracks and an armory, all secured with dwarven stone walls. Some of the dwarves thought that it was a kind and just offer that would foster a good relationship between the sister kingdoms. Others thought that Thorin was getting too soft and that an army of men was no better than an army of elf-maids. Signi thought that Thorin had twisted Bard's arm into a deal that he could not refuse despite knowing that no good could come of it. No man in the city of Dale would look a gift horse such as this in the mouth.
To Signi's immense displeasure, progress with the king's project also meant that Stonehelm was far too busy to see her. As captain of the army that would be building the fort and training the men, her friend spent hours planning this endeavor and preparing his soldiers. There were a few mornings that she was able to catch him just as he was leaving his tent. He always greeted her with a grin that sent her stomach to her toes and a kiss on the hand. But he was a very busy dwarf commanding 500 troops and could not spend more time than that with her.
Lifa also found similar displeasure. The king had Fili working day and night preparing for the ceremony. At dinner, one night, Fili told Lifa that Thorin was testing him to see if he could bear the responsibility. It pained him to have so few moments with her, none that were alone, but he just knew that if he pleased Thorin with this they would be one step closer to their engagement.
Although the girls had not completely resolved after their argument, Signi did not have the heart to tell her sister the truth. It was Kili who broke the news to her – Lord Brasi was on the warpath and Thorin had ordered Fili to be discreet. That meant no more picnics, no more nights on the balcony, and absolutely no more kissing in the hallways. In some ways she was grateful that the king did not order him away from her sister completely, but it angered her to discover that he was so weak. Thorin Oakenshield was the stuff of legends, a son of Durin, a powerful king and warrior, and yet slippery eel of a dwarf had him by the balls. Signi scoffed as she passed Lord Brasi in the hall. His slick hands looked like they had never lifted a hammer or wielded a sword in his life.
But the biggest disappointment of the week came when Signi tried to find her friend, Kara. It had been far too long since Signi had seen her friend and she was desperate for someone to talk to that was not trying to steer her affections toward the king. She had heard that the awkward dwarf she had turned down was staying with Kara's family, so she was reluctant to visit her in her home. Kara usually spent her days working in her father's shop, so each day Signi ventured into the market to find her friend.
The first three days Signi was greeted at the shop by one of Kara's younger brothers. They all gave her the same answer that Kara was making deliveries and wouldn't be back in the shop until the next day. She did not quite believe this answer, but did not have the desire to call the boys out on it. On the fourth day, as her brother gave his rehearsed answer, absolutely void of any inflection to make it authentic, Signi saw a flash of white-blond hair and yellow calico disappear into the back room. There was no denying it. Kara was definitely avoiding her.
Signi apologized politely for imposing once again on them and asked that he deliver a message to Kara. The boy gave a non-committal grunt in response, but pushed a pad of paper and charcoal pencil across the counter to her to write down the message. With a final glance toward the back room, she quickly wrote her message and left the shop. It was still early in the day, but Signi found her feet leading her away from the shop and to the top of the watchtower to bide her time until Dis arrived for her lesson that day.
Thorin walked beside Bard through the market jealously eyeing the throngs of people bustling about and filling their baskets with the food that had recently arrived. The elvenking had taken pity on Dale and sent cartloads of freshly harvested vegetation to stave off the peoples' hunger. Thorin noted with contempt that Bard had not refused King Thranduil's charity.
"So you are looking to offer apprenticeship to some of our injured men, as well as military training to those who were able and the fortress you are building to house my men," said Bard, pausing by one of the distribution tents to pick up a couple of apples. Tossing one to Thorin, he resumed walking as he took a large bite out of the fruit. Thorin looked at the apple with distaste and handed it indiscreetly to the guard behind him. "I was under the impression that dwarves protected their trade secrets at all costs."
Thorin grit his teeth. "Lord Balin believes that opening the mountain to Dale will foster an alliance between our kingdoms." He hated those words, those practiced words, but it was a necessary evil.
Bard laughed and took another bite. "That is all well and good, but what do you want, Thorin?"
The king winced at hearing the man use his given name. "I want to see your people make it through the winter, Bard. If that means opening the forges and selling the secrets of my kin, then so be it."
"You never cease to amaze me," Bard answered, shaking his head. "You offer gold and claim its value will feed my people, and yet your gold is worthless within these walls."
Thorin bit back a growl. "The coin may not go far here in Dale, but I assure you that other kingdoms will willingly accept it. With the assistance of your men patrolling the northern pass, our kin in Ered Luin have agreed to form a profitable trade route with your kingdom."
"Profitable to your friend, Lord Brasi, you mean," Bard growled. Thorin did not have to ask him to guess at what changed the man's tone. Brasi had joined them for the first couple of meetings with Bard, but it soon became clear that the honest king of Dale would not deal directly with the untrustworthy dwarf. Thorin found himself ashamed that he could not make the same call to bar Brasi from his council chambers. But then again, he did not have a kingdom full of starving people like the honorable Bard the bowman.
"And what happens when Dale is finally out of ruin and the people are making a living creating dwarf-made weapons? What will happen to our alliance then?" Bard asked, the question coming as an afterthought.
"Then we will have to share the markets liked we did in the days of our ancestors. Erebor gold will flow freely through your city and bleed the mountain dry. It will be a hit to our treasury for certain, but at least my conscience will be restored" There was no point in trying to hide his thoughts on the matter with tact. Either Bard would recognize this sacrifice for what it was or he would refuse the offer as he did every offer before.
"Which would never happen in this age or next," laughed Bard. "And I do believe that Erebor gold would be funding such apprenticeships."
"That is the intent," said Thorin.
Bard slowed his steps and turned to face the king, leaning slightly so that he was eye level with Thorin. Unaware of the insult such a diminutive stance held, he said, "You have made a very generous offer, but you must allow me the chance to discuss it with my council."
Thorin scowled at Bard. "Of course," he answered, his voice clipped. "Take as long as you need."
With a smile, Bard clapped Thorin on the shoulder. Bidding him farewell, Bard turned and walked back to the King's House with his guard.
Thorin brushed off his shoulder as though he was knocking the dust of travel from his coat. With a stiff nod to his own guard, he continued stalking down the line of stalls to the front gate where Fili and Balin waited for him.
He tried to ease his scowl as he approached his nephew and friend, but was unsuccessful in the endeavor it seemed as they shared a wary glance.
"Did the negotiations go well?" asked Fili, his voice bored as though he already knew the answer.
"It is unlikely," snorted Balin, equally unamused.
Thorin frowned. Was he that predictable? The king's mouth thinned in a hard line, but he held back a reply. They were right of course, but that did not help his mood. Growling an order in Khuzdal for the guard to fetch his pony, Thorin continued marching toward the gate, not waiting to see if the others followed.
Fili hated the silence without Lifa. So many times over the months that they had known each other he had sat with her in silence and reveled in each minute of it. They did not need to share words. Lifa could say so much with one glance or the feather light touch of her hand, and Fili cherished these moments as much as every conversation they had or every kiss she had given.
But the silence without her was deafening.
It was the night before the groundbreaking ceremony, and the prince finally had a chance to escape the king. The plans were finished and the provisions in place, granting him a moment of reprieve. His favorite balcony was his escape, but once he reached it, he found that he could no longer enjoy it without her. Somehow sitting under the distant starlight as cold winds curled around the mountain was no longer relaxing. Fili shivered against the stone, unable to get comfortable without his love in his arms. The change scared him to his very core, but the rush of fear was greater than his anxieties.
"I figured you would be spending some time with your lady."
Fili closed his eyes and groaned when he heard his brother's voice from the doorway. He would never admit it, but he was glad Kili came to break the silence. He could count on one hand the number of time he and Kili had been truly alone to talk in the last month. It was starting to take a toll on him.
"Thorin doesn't want us spending time alone right now," Fili said, turning toward his brother as he moved to sit beside him. "He says we can't be trusted without a chaperone."
"Well, he's right," Kili sniggered. "The way I hear it, you two were damn near rutting in the hall like a couple of animals."
Fili glared at his brother. Yes, he was well aware that Kili was just teasing, but such crude language should never be used to describe his wife-to-be.
"Hey, I am not the one spending my nights in the woods with a she-elf," he snarked back. Kili's scowl gave him some small satisfaction.
The brothers fell into silence, neither wishing to goad the other further. Jibes at the other's expense was nothing new for them. It was like a secret language that only they could speak - the nastier the insult, the more love that was behind it. But Fili found that he did not want to insult his brother's elf-maid and he had a feeling that Kili did not wish to insult Lifa in return.
"Are you sure about this?" Kili finally asked quietly. A cloud had passed over the moon shadowing what little light they had, but in the darkness Fili could see the concern in his brother's eyes.
Fili took a deep breath. He did not need to contemplate his answer, but he never shared with anyone the depth of his affection for her. "I have never been so sure about anything in my life. There is no other lady that I want, I don't care how many dwarrowdams uncle shoves under my nose. Lifa asks nothing of me and yet she willingly supports me in every way. She understands my role, my duty, and does not complain. She is kind and gentle, but she is fierce too… I can't let her go. I will not let her go, no matter how much he threatens."
Kili's grin was wide as he clapped his brother on the shoulder. "Now you finally get it!"
"Mahal," Fili groaned. "Please tell me I am not turning into a starry-eyed sop like you?"
"I resent that! And yes, you most certainly are. Embrace it, brother. So few dwarves find the love of their life, you should be thankful that we have been successful. The line of Durin shall live on."
Fili sucked in a breath at those words. The line of Durin. The thought that he would be the bearer of the family line made him sick and excited at the same time. It was such an important role and just one of his many duties as crown prince, but it was also the most terrifying. He could face down an entire legion of orcs – he had done so just a few years before – and that seemed as easy as a midday stroll compared to the prospect of becoming a husband and father. Even Thorin had not been brave enough to take on such an endeavor as King of Erebor.
Kili was watching his brother carefully. "Oh come on," he sniggered, "You aren't having second thoughts now that I mentioned your duty of producing an heir. That can hardly be a shock. From what I have heard, you have been testing the waters in the hallways."
Fili dug his elbow into Kili's side, relishing in pained groan his brother made as he scooted away from him. Of course that aspect of the process did not frighten him. Sighing, he tilted his head back to rest on the stone wall. "Have you ever thought about having children…with Tauriel, I mean?"
"Of course I have," Kili answered brightly. His scowl broke way to the silly grin he usually wore when talking about his elf-maid. "We will have many, many children. And they will have her ears, but my muscles. Oh, and her red hair, and her grace, and her…"
"I get it, I get it," chuckled Fili, cutting off his brother before he laid out all of his favorite qualities that Tauriel possessed.
"What about you? Have you thought about it with Lifa?"
Fili squirmed uncomfortably. "I have…a bit."
Kili eyed him skeptically. "How long?"
"What?" Fili asked in confusion.
"How long have you been thinking about wanting to marry Lifa and have children?"
Fili squirmed again and tugged on his collar as though it was suddenly too tight. Kili did not release him from his fixed stare. Sighing when he realized that Kili would not back down, Fili muttered, "What day was it that they arrived?"
"Mahal almighty," Kili snorted. "You are utterly besotted."
"Yeah, well fat lot of good it is going to do me now. Uncle is beside himself dealing with Brasi and somehow that infernal dwarf can't get it out of his head that I am not some possession he can just buy for his daughter." Fili's voice was edged with bitterness. He was the most eligible bachelor in all of the dwarf kingdoms and yet he had the least freedom to marry who he wanted to. Even his own brother had been allowed to play in the trees with an elf-maid, but he was having to fight for the opportunity to marry a perfectly respectable lady.
"You won't have to marry her," Kili said. "If we could just talk Uncle into…"
"There is no talking Thorin into anything," interrupted Fili. "He will have to get his own head out of his backside and tell Brasi where he can go with his threats."
If Kili had a snarky response to his brother's comment, it was lost on the wind as he suddenly jumped up from his seat and ran over to the balcony rail.
"What is it?" Fili asked as he join Kili, his voice tinged with worry.
Kili pointed down to a lone figure hurrying across the stone bridge and down the path toward Dain's army camp below. The light of the braziers shone against the person's back illuminating pale green skirts and a thick black braid.
Fili shuddered instantly as he recognized it to be Lady Miri. "Where is she going," he breathed. Beside him Kili shrugged in response. They remained standing in silence, watching as she weaved between tents. She was far enough away that the braziers no longer lit her path, but the moonlight peeping through the clouds allowed them to see just well enough to catch her slipping through the opening on a large tent in the center of the camp.
Kili's chuckle broke the silence between them. Fili glance sideways at him with an eyebrow raised attempting to gauge whether or not his brother was truly going mad.
"Well now you don't have to worry about marrying Miri," Kili explained with an eye roll. "Thorin would not allow the marriage to happen if he learned that she had visited any of these tents below with the cover of darkness. When he learns that it is Stonehelm's tent she is sneaking into at night, he will remove the both of them from Erebor himself."
"What ails you, your majesty," grunted Dwalin, shrugging his shoulder to ease the aftershocks of his axe blocking a forceful blow from Thorin's sword.
"Nothing," growled Thorin, swinging again and striking Dwalin's chest plate. "And quit with that 'your majesty' nonsense." It was the night before the groundbreaking ceremony and Thorin was relieved to find Dwalin in the training arena after dinner, ready and waiting for him to spar. They had been brothers in arms for over a century and Dwalin could read his moods like a book.
"Maybe I will…when you quit acting like the damn moody queen of Erebor."
Thorin swung his foot in favor of his sword and caught Dwalin behind the knee with a steel toed boot. The captain lost his balance and was felled like an oak tree, his armor clattering loudly on the stone floor.
"Yer doing nothing but prove my point, m'lady," panted Dwalin from the ground.
Thorin sighed and sheathed his sword. Reaching out a hand, he helped Dwalin stand. The dwarves wandered away from the sparring ring and accepted water from the servant waiting on them. Dwalin gulped his greedily, but Thorin stared pensively in his cup wishing it were something stronger.
"Am I doing the right thing?" He wondered aloud.
"In regards to what exactly?"
Thorin was not sure. He questioned his every action of late and it seemed his advisors were as well. But they had nothing on the sheer amount of disapproval rolling off Signi in the last week.
"Take your pick," he grumbled, handing his untouched glass back to the servant.
Dwalin sighed and rubbed his large forehead as he thought. "I think you listen to the advice of others too much. You are king for a reason, and not just because you were born into it. You know what is best for your people."
Thorin frowned. There was a time when he knew what was best, but he wasn't sure anymore. For years the words of his grandfather were his guiding force. He led the dwarves into battle in honor of King Thror and his vision. He found them a home in Ered Luin with the promise of securing Erebor once more. Everything he did was for his grandfather and the kingdom he built. But Thror's kingdom was built upon the Arkenstone, a tradition that Thorin had shunned in favor of sanity. The Arkenstone had no place in the halls of Erebor. There was no white light gleaming above Thorin's head as he sat on the throne. He cursed any dignitary that could not see him as king without it and yet he grappled at their precious trade like a babe at the breast.
With King Bard agreeing to join their armies as one force, Thorin had decided to present his council with some additional ideas that would further bind the two kingdoms. The apprenticeships had been approved based solely on tradition, but suggestions to merge their markets and to supply laborers to complete their building had resulted in mutiny by his council. Dain had howled that it was an attempt to disembowel the dwarven culture and that the kingdom of men would greedily suck away the secrets of Erebor's craftsmen and render them useless in a few years' time. Others on the council were much less vocal on the matter than Dain, but they too agreed that it would disrupt the careful isolation that dwarves preferred. Only at Lord Mikel's suggestion that they take on one project at a time did the riled dwarves calm so that the meeting could continue.
"On one hand, I hand I want to preserve our culture and our ways that have been so carefully forged over the centuries," said Thorin, pausing as he considered whether or not it was safe to continue with his thoughts.
"But…" prompted Dwalin.
Thorin's expression darkened. "On the other hand I want to tell that greedy Lord Brasi to shove his crooked trade agreements so far up his ass that he will chew on them until Durin's Day after next."
Dwalin guffawed loudly at Thorin's oath. Soldiers in the vicinity paused in their training to turn a curious eye on the king and his captain.
"I would dearly love to see Brasi's face when you tell him that," chuckled Dwalin, his eyes twinkling mischievously at the King's rancorous words.
"Aye, and Lady Miri," said Thorin with a half-smile. Already he was beginning to feel the weight of Erebor lift from his shoulders.
"Come, Thorin. Let's get out of this armor and you can tell me what other suggestions you have for our kin over some ale," Dwalin said, clapping Thorin heavily on the back. "Or perhaps you can tell me why you have been spending so much time working in the forges lately."
Thorin stiffened at Dwalin's mention of the forges. It was true that he had not been attending his regular training sessions with Dwalin in favor of slipping down to the forges to work in the morning. His guts clenched when he realized that the captain probably had some very accurate assumptions about what he was doing down there.
Shrugging in response, Thorin muttered something about the forges providing additional stress relief as it allowed him to imagine Brasi's head lying on the anvil as he hammered away. Dwalin gave a humored snort, but he knew that this would not be the last time that the captain needled him for information. It would be easier in the long run to just tell him the truth, but there were just some things he was not ready to share.
Stonehelm was bored. There was no other word for it. His soldiers had quieted for the night as curfew had fallen an hour before. He was never one to issue curfew, but Dain demanded it as the groundbreaking ceremony would begin first thing in the morning. Curse Thorin Oakenshield and his need to conduct business before breakfast.
His tent was comfortable – at least as comfortable as a tent can be – with proper furnishings and a down mattress. His father had reminded him of this each night they were there, but that did not stop the old dwarf from heading back to the mountain as soon as darkness fell to the comforts of the room provided for him inside. Dain claimed that a commanding officer must stay with his soldiers, but Stonehelm knew that it was the king that barred him from having a room as well. Of course he would, just as he barred him from everything else he deserved.
The down mattress was rather comfortable, he mused as he laid on his bed dressed only in his braies. Too bad he was alone on it. His lips curled into a smile when he pictured which dwarrowdam he would like to have join him that night. Of course it was only in his mind. Thorin had made sure he understood that absolutely no philandering would be tolerated on his watch the moment Stonehelm had arrived. It was a pity too now that the mountain housed so many lovely ladies.
There was the sweet maid he met on the night of the ball when the mountains staff joined his men in their own festivities. She had been a pretty young thing with blond hair and soft brown eyes. She listened in awe when he told her about the orcs he had killed, and then let his hands wander as she prattled on about making beds for the princes. He did not hear a word she said that night, but her innocent kisses and soft little moans would be forever burned in his mind.
Then there was the young lady he met in Dale as he walked the streets with King Bard to discuss the upcoming plans. She was pretty for a woman of man, but she was no maid he quickly learned with her long flirtatious looks and the way her fingers skimmed his thigh as they sat for lunch. He had never lain with a woman who was not a prostitute, so when the woman whispered in his ear that her father was on the night watch, he could not refuse the offer. That trip was certainly worth his time, he thought, judging by the bodily response it triggered.
Yes, his pursuits had been few since reaching Erebor, and it was driving him mad. Signi had come to see him every day that week and each time it took every ounce of restraint not to pull her into the tent and have his way with her. She would not have refused, he was sure of that. It amused him to no end that when his dear friend had finally figured out what a dwarf can offer a lady in terms of intimacy, it was him that she wanted. But she was also on a high horse of morality and nothing would break through her figurative chastity belt but marriage.
Stonehelm scowled at that thought. His father had been pegging for their marriage for years. The thought was not entirely repulsive; Signi was a good friend and they would get along well. But Signi did not have the same ambitions as he did and would surely stop him when she realized his intentions. He was not in the habit of fearing dwarrowdams, but he was familiar enough with her deftness with a blade and her lack of sympathy for his balls if she caught him doing something she did not agree with. No, Signi was not the wife he sought, but it certainly angered Oakenshield enough to be satisfying. He was aware of the rumors floating around Erebor, most likely of his father's doing, and had decided to use them to his advantage.
The sound of rustling at the entrance of his tent broke Stonehelm's thoughts. He pulled the blanket over himself to hide the evidence of his remembrances and waited for the person to enter. It was no small surprise when Lady Miri entered, but Stonehelm felt his lips curling into a sly smile.
"My lady, it is awfully late for you to be taking a stroll," He said as he remained seated on the bed, half covered with the blanket.
Miri returned his smile with a coy one of her own and moved to sit on the edge of his bed. "I have always been fond of walking in the moonlight. As I am sure you remember," she purred. Slowly, she raised her hand, raking her fingernails gently up his arm and across his chest. Stonehelm watched her, his eyes darkening as every nerve his body responded to her touch. Miri was a powerful dwarrowdam and she knew it. Just a few words paired with the right touch and dwarves were absolute putty in her hands. Stonehelm should know - he had fallen victim to her before.
"I don't believe it was moonlight that brought you here," he said, unable to shake the huskiness from his voice. Mahal, this woman is a menace, he thought as her fingers lightly traced the outline of his abdominals.
Miri smirked as her hand dipped beneath the blanket. "Perhaps not," she said lightly.
Stonehelm groaned, closing his eyes briefly and breathing deeply. Conversations with Miri should be held with a clear mind lest you find yourself agreeing to things that you never intended, he thought. She was well practiced in her techniques.
"What does your father want?" he panted as she began loosening the ties on his braies.
"What makes you think my father wants something?"
Cursing under his breath, Stonehelm grabbed her wrist to stop her exploration. "Your father always wants something," he growled.
Miri pouted slightly and attempted to twist her arm out of his grip. When it became clear that he would not let go, she rolled her eyes and gave him an answer. "My father simply wants to ensure your allegiance to his cause."
Stonehelm stared at her, but did not let go. "My allegiance? By sending you? As I recall, the last time he found you with me he doubled my debts and threatened to take my head if I did not pay them."
"Oh, you did not take him seriously, did you," she giggled, leaning forward to press a kiss on the side of his neck. She continued trying to slip her hand out of his grip, but it only made him clamp down harder. "Father wants you to remember that we once had an agreement, one in which we would be husband and wife. If you support him here, this agreement can be taken up again."
Stonehelm snorted derisively. Brasi was known for making offers and then yanking them back with the slightest provocation. "As I last heard it, you were to be married to Prince Fili."
Miri scowled as she pulled away. "Do you not get it? The king will agree to anything to protect his precious heir. Even if it proves to be his downfall. When father gets what he wants, then I am all yours."
His grip finally loosened at her words. He did not pay much attention to Miri as she pushed him down onto the bed and lifted her skirts before joining him. Thoughts of Brasi and his role in Thorin's plans swirled in his mind like a storm. What exactly did he intend to do that would require such level of blackmail? And why did he need Stonehelm's allegiance in his efforts?
There was nothing further for Miri to say in her message, but her actions drove Brasi's point home. Lady Miri was a fine respectable lady in most social circles, and he was a high-ranking nobleman with a bruised reputation. The fact that she had visited his bed more times than he could count did nothing to solidify his claim over her, but if he agreed to Brasi's schemes he would have both a wife and the title he desired. Yes, Stonehelm thought as he finally got the release he desired, he could agree to such terms.
I have a confession: Part of my delay posting has been due to working on another Hobbit fanfic (a Bard/OC, Figrid fic). No promises as to when I will be posting any of it (I really want to finish this one first), but just a heads up. I am also afraid that going to see Age of Ultron will get me working on my Avengers story, which isn't a bad thing, but it will slow down this one...the good news is that my work load will lighten in just a few weeks so I should have a lot more time to write :)