Please forgive me! I can't believe it has been this long since I posted. I ended up being far busier this summer than expected, and then I had this really intense writers block. I did not write a thing for nearly two months straight. It was terrible! So I apologize for this writing in this chapter, but I am trying to get back in the swing of things… Big stuff happening in this chapter, so let me know what you think. Thank you to all of my wonderful followers/favs/reviewers!
"The distance is nothing when one has a motive."―Jane Austen,Pride and Prejudice
Signi had full intentions of taking her usual morning walk, but the rain pounding the sides of the mountain and puddling ankle-deep in the front entrance made her think twice. The king's carefully planned groundbreaking ceremony would take place in a few hours, and as far as Signi knew, he had no intention of rescheduling it despite the storm. Dwarves were hearty creatures undaunted by a bit of rain, but it was the people of Dale who would be suffering through the event. How fitting, Signi thought wryly as she headed back to Gloin's home.
The halls were busier than usual at the early hour with servants bustling about finishing any last minute preparations. A shelter would be constructed to house the feast artfully arranged by Bombur. Kitchen hands grumbled as they carried crate after crate outside, wading through the water collected along the paths leading to Dale. Many wondered why the king did not move the feast indoors, but it seemed to be the general consensus that man would not be welcome within the halls of Erebor.
Many members of the king's council were also roaming the halls before breakfast, each carrying a balance of nervous energy and contempt at Thorin's traitorous decisions. Mikel had warned Signi the night before that a rift had formed within the king's council and she would be wise to hold her tongue until the anger had passed. He would not give her more information than that, but she had deduced that the only supporters in this plan were Brasi and Lord Balin, who agreed out of sheer loyalty to Thorin rather than interest in commerce with Dale. As usual, Mikel maintained a strong stance of neutrality, but he was quick to remind Dain of the times he had refused to support Thorin in the past. And so, Dain rose that morning before dawn and begrudgingly donned Durin blue to stand beside his cousin and king at the ceremony.
Upon returning to her rooms, Signi was quite surprised to find Gloin snoring in the wingback chair beside a freshly stoked fire in the sitting room. As the first one up every morning, Signi was not accustomed to seeing her family members first thing in the morning, especially not Master Gloin who rarely awoke before noon if he could help it.
Gingerly, she poked the dwarf, wondering if she should simply wake him or send him to his room for a few more hours of rest. Gloin shifted and groaned, but did not open his eyes. Poking him a bit harder, Signi was successful in waking him.
"What do you want?" he grumbling, peeking through one open eye. "Can't a dwarf get some shuteye without being pestered incessantly by lasses?"
Signi snorted at his reference to lasses and poked him again to drive her point home.
With a tortured sigh, Gloin sat upright in the chair and rubbed his face vigorously, muttering about pestilent dwarflings all the while. "What do you want?" he grumbled again, facing Signi with a scowl.
"What are you doing sleeping in the chair? Surely I didn't wake you when I left."
"You woke me up for that?" Gloin rolled his eyes, but continued with an explanation. "I just got in and didn't want to wake Galen. Now if you will excuse me-"
"Just got in from where?" Signi interrupted, her eyes narrowed suspiciously.
"Give me peace," he groaned. "I'm not supposed to talk about it."
"Not supposed to talk about what? Were you out all night?" Signi persisted, refusing to give him a break. "Galen told me you went to the treasury after dinner."
Gloin shook his head and held up a hand, attempting to stop the barrage of questions. "No, no. I am not answering that. I had something I was working on, but it is nothing to concern yourself about. Thorin said – oh… forget I said that."
"So the king did have you working in the treasury!" Signi crowed triumphantly as Gloin buried his face in his hands. "What were you doing? Why are you sworn to secrecy? Is Thorin planning to give money to the king of Dale? Is he – "
"No!" barked Gloin, standing abruptly from his chair. "I will say no more about it and neither will you. If you mention one word of this to anyone, you will have both me and the king to answer to, understood?"
Signi arched an eyebrow as she considered this threat, but finally gave a consenting nod. Gloin did not frighten her in the slightest, but thoughts of Thorin's reaction to her prying this information from his master of coin made her hesitant to broach the topic with him.
"Now if you will excuse me," Gloin continued bitterly, "I shall retire to my room for a few more hours. Mahal help me, my wife had best give me some peace and quiet."
Muttering about "young whelps" poking their nose in other people's business as he shuffled across the room, Gloin disappeared into his bedroom, leaving Signi to theorize about his all-nighter until the others awoke.
As predicted, the rain had not stopped when the ceremony finally began. Halfway between Erebor and Dale, a crude stage was erected for the royal families. Three tents for the feast that followed stood behind the stage, their canvas tops sagging heavily with water. Signi and Gimli immediately took bets to see how long it would take for the fabric to rip and drench the people inside.
All dressed in thick leather cloaks, the dwarves made a formidable crowd – short and stocky, water sluicing over their shoulders – unfazed by the unfortunate weather. The gathering from Dale stood near the far end of the stage, huddled together under shared cloaks and blankets, all shivering in the freezing rain.
Signi stared at them in pity from beneath her own leather hood. She longed to pass her cloak to a mother and young children, just as she had seen King Bard do with his own, but Thorin stopped her with a warning glance. It was unnerving how easily he could read her mind and motives, and yet she felt a thrill as his unspoken message shimmied down her spine.
Thorin was joined on stage by Lady Dis, Prince Kili, and Dain. A few feet behind them stood Lord Brasi, Lord Balin, and Dwalin with his twin battle axes at the ready should any attempts on Thorin's life be made at this ceremony. Stonehelm stood nearby in front of his army, arms crossed and chin raised defiantly as though challenging anyone to question his presence. Signi found herself admiring how his russet hair clung wetly to his handsome brow. It was a pity that he donned armor instead of a tunic that could cling just as well to his thick shoulders.
King Bard was delayed getting on stage, too preoccupied by making his people comfortable than to acknowledge the dwarves waiting for him. Signi could see Thorin's irritation mounting as he waited, his hood pulled back to reveal his crown, rain dripping down his proud nose and soaking his beard. Somehow Thorin managed to maintained his majestic stance in the even the fiercest of storms. King Bard, in contrast, looked like a half-drowned cat, long and lean with nothing but the smallest of circlets to indicate that he was king. With none but his children on stage, Bard's contribution to this agreement appeared weak and of little importance to the people of Dale. A scandalized murmur went through the crowd of dwarves when he crossed the stage and greeted Thorin with a casual handshake and clap on the shoulder.
"Where is Fili?" Lifa whispered as Balin began to speak. "He should be here for this."
Signi turned to her sister, her brow furrowed in worry. "He didn't tell you that he would be gone?"
Lifa shook her head. "I did not see him last night. Surely he would have to be here for this."
Putting a comforting arm around her sister, Signi offered what reassurance she could muster. "Perhaps he is busy. The kingdom must run even in ceremonies. Maybe he is working on something in the mountain."
But Signi did not believe that for a minute. Something was going on and Thorin was behind it, that she was sure of. She watched him closely for the rest of the ceremony, searching for any clue as to why Fili was absent, why he had Gloin working in the treasury all night, and why such a rift existed in his council. There was nothing odd in his behavior during the ceremony, other than his obvious dislike for King Bard, but Signi was convinced that she could see guilt hidden in his tired eyes and stiff shoulders.
True to form, Bombur had created his grandest feast yet. The dwarves were quick to stake claim to one of the tents, turning away any Dale residents who tried to join them.
Lifa followed their family inside the tent, seated near the king, but Signi was on a quest to find Kili who was lurking near the outside edge of the tent. As she approached, she caught his eye and waved, but he quickly turned away and disappeared in the crowds gathering around the mountains of food being served buffet style.
Intent on chasing after him, Signi was interrupted by someone calling her name. Kara, her dear friend, had finally decided to break the silence between them…at the worst possible time.
"Kara! How are you?" Signi asked enthusiastically, pulling her into a tight hug, while continuing to scan the crowd for Kili. She might be looking for the elusive prince, but she had missed her dear friend and could not understand what had happened between them. "You look so lovely," she added, noting Kara's rosy blush and halo of white-blond curls.
"Thank you," Kara said softly, continuing to hold Signi's hand. "I am doing well. And you? Has Stonehelm made an offer yet?"
It was Signi's turn to blush. "No, not yet… But I did get an offer from Vifil. Oh Kara, it was awful, can you imagine marrying someone like that? I can't believe he thinks that –"
"Actually, Signi," Kara interrupted. "I can imagine." Her voice was soft as always, hesitant as she waited for Signi to understand her meaning.
Signi's eyes widened and she gripped Kara's hand with a vice-like force. "What do you mean? Oh surely you did not – "
"I did!" Kara snapped, "And nothing you say is going to change my mind. We will be married in a fortnight. Don't look at me like that," she added, glaring at Signi's expression. "I don't want your pity or your judgement. I am too old for any better prospects - I am and you know it – and I am a burden to my family. Vifil is a hardworking dwarf with a good home and a good income. I shall be quite happy to be his wife."
Try as she might, Signi could not form a response. Was she upset by this news? Disappointed? Jealous? She could not tell. The appropriate response would be supportive and understanding. She should give Kara her congratulations and well-wishes, but the words did not come.
Kara watched her friend struggle with a response, her expression growing dimmer with each passing beat. Determined to save face, she gave Signi a clipped "goodbye" and stomped away, heading not into the tent, but towards the mountain.
Signi tried to call after her, but her voice was lost in the wind. Not that it mattered. What was she thinking agreeing to marry that awful little dwarf? Signi prided herself in choosing only the highest caliber of friends. A friend of Signi's would not settle for a dwarf out of desperation. A true friend of Signi's would hold out for the love of their life, or none at all. Kili would take none other than Tauriel, Fili would not marry anyone besides her sister, Stonehelm…she wasn't sure what Stonehelm would do, but he would never do something that he did not want to do. Kara was her closest friend at Erebor, and until now, she held the same belief that Signi did when it came to marriage. There was a reason she was over century old and unmarried, right?
With half a mind to return to the mountain as well, Signi slowly turned toward the crowded tents and sought out the ale taps for a drink. Mahal give her strength if she was going to have to sit under Thorin's nose for the duration of the meal.
It was common knowledge that Dain's soldiers were rowdy. Stonehelm was no exception to this by any means, but days like this he was downright repulsed by their uncouth nature. The dwarves he commanded held it together for the ceremony with minimal grumbling, which was far better than he expected. But the moment that they were released to enjoy the feast, they turned into a bunch of feral boars. Within moments, Stonehelm found himself bellowing orders over a hoard of dwarves grappling for food like the starved beggars in the streets of Dale. It was unseemly and yet again he was reminded of the life Thorin Oakenshield had taken from him. In Ered Luin he lived in the center of civility with meek servants hovering to take his every directive. In Ered Luin he slept in apartments of comfort and had gold at his disposal. That was the life he deserved, not the life of a foot soldier living in a tent, even if he was the commanding officer.
Stonehelm made short order of the chaos his men caused. In minutes he had them marching back to camp to enjoy their feast in their own tents. The worst offenders were ordered to stay behind and help serve with only leftovers to eat after the meal was finished. He may not have enjoyed the captain's life, but none could argue that he was not good at his job.
With his soldiers occupied, Stonehelm was free to join the feast with gentility as he was meant to. Standing near the taps, he watched the crowd, his eyes easily finding Lady Miri.
Ah, Miri and the delights she held. Just thinking about her triggered the most tangible of bodily responses. In Ered Luin she frequented his bedchambers almost nightly until her father stormed in to find them together. The aftermath had been most unpleasant, but Stonehelm found that he could think of her as one of his finest conquests. In all honesty, he was technically the conquered, but that did not matter. He was still caught under her spell no matter how hard he resisted.
And then there was her visit to his tent the night before. It was a long anticipated visit. Stonehelm knew that she was in the mountain and spent many nights in his feather bed imagining that she would be joining him under the cover of night. But days went by, and no visit was made. News circulated of a possible engagement to Prince Fili and his hate for Thorin's nephews increased ten-fold. First they take his crown, then they take the only dwarrowdam that could be his equal. How cruel Mahal must be to make him be witness to this.
But Miri finally did enter his tent with honeyed kisses and promising words. Their engagement would be taken up again, if he agreed to help her father. It was a seemingly small sacrifice to make, but Stonehelm knew just what Brasi was capable of. He trusted the lord about as far as he trusted Lady Miri – not at all.
They engaged in their passions for the remainder of the night with Miri slipping away just before the storm arrived. It was not as though he did not try talking to her about it, but every time he asked about her father's plan, she would kiss him again and his questions would fade as quickly as his resistance. It was a plan to bring down the mighty Thorin Oakenshield, that much he could surmise, but was it truly enough to go on? By dawn, Stonehelm was not sure what he had agreed to, but knew that he had no choice but to follow through. Miri was an addiction and her father was cruel enough to keep her far, far away from him.
Desperate to stop thinking about the Miri, Stonehelm scowled at the royal family seated at the front of the tent on a raised table platform. Thorin still wore his crown, seated in the center of the table. His expression was sour as King Bard was placed in the seat Fili would normally take. It was a great mystery as to why the crown prince did not make an appearance. Some of the soldiers thought that maybe he had been too deep in his cups the night before to make an appearance; others swore they saw a carriage leaving Erebor in the hours before dawn, but no one living in the mountain could confirm this sighting.
On the other side of Thorin sat Dain, Lord Balin, and Lord Brasi. Dain tried his damnedest to get Thorin to respond with any manner of enthusiasm, but his efforts were lost on the king's typical stony expression. It was apparent that Thorin wanted to be there even less than Stonehelm did, which was far too amusing to the young captain. Only Thorin Oakenshield would be miserable at his own party.
The sensation of someone brushing against his arm drew Stonehelm's attention from the main table. Glancing to his left, he was surprised to see Signi gulping ale as though drinking water on a hot day.
"Whoa, take it easy," he chuckled as he blocked her from refilling her emptied cup. "I am pretty sure Thorin would throw you in a cell if you get drunk in front of the king of Dale."
"Good," muttered Signi as she tried to push around him.
Stonehelm stopped her easily, wrapping her in his arms and holding her tight against his chest. Signi stilled instantly, but he made no move to release her.
"Now," he murmured, his lips against her hair as he spoke. "How about you tell me what is going on and then maybe I will let you get some more ale." Signi's response was unintelligible as her words were muffled against his armor. "What was that?" he asked, loosening his hold slightly.
Pushing away, Signi sighed before answering. "Nothing is going on, it's just everything is going wrong and I don't know how to fix it."
"What kind of things?" Over her head, he could see Thorin glaring at them across the tent. Smirking back at the king, he reached down to push Signi's hair away from her face, making sure to brush his thumb across her bottom lip in the process. "Do you want to get out of here?" he asked when the only response Signi could manage was an odd squeak.
Nodding, Signi drew away and allowed Stonehelm to lead her away from the tent. With the lake levels too high to sit in their preferred spot, they headed to camp instead. With everyone preoccupied with the feast and their own arrangements, they were sure not to be disturbed in his personal tent. Signi did not hesitate to enter when they arrived, and with no complaint, Stonehelm tied the flaps shut to ensure that there would be no interruptions.
Lifa returned to her rooms after the feast with Gloin and his family. Signi was still gone, but no one seemed surprised or concerned by her disappearing act.
The entire ceremony had been terrible from beginning to end. It was bad enough that they had to stand in the rain, but her cloak covered the outfit she had carefully chosen to impress Fili. A blue dress with sapphires, just as he preferred, and the beautiful ivory combs that he had sent weeks before. He would love seeing her dressed in this manner, and he would show her his appreciation with stolen kisses in their favorite alcove.
But Fili was not there and no one could explain why he had not come. Lady Dis seemed just as baffled by his absence, as did Dwalin and Bofur. But Kili was behaving oddly and avoided talking to Lifa as much as he could. When she managed to corner him and asked where he was, Kili acted as though he had not even noticed that his brother was missing. Something was definitely going on. The only person who would know with any certainty would be King Thorin, but there was no way she could approach him to ask. Instead she must resign herself to waiting to hear from Fili and attempt to enjoy the feast. But food did not taste the same without the prince, and what should have been a fun day was very dull indeed.
Hanging her cloak by the fire to dry, Lifa flopped onto her bed and stared sullenly at the stone wall. Ever since that night in the hall when they were caught alone by Lord Brasi and his infuriating daughter, Fili had been avoiding her. She made the usual excuses for him: his uncle needed him, he had duties that were more important, he was running a kingdom. But after an entire week and not one moment alone, the excuses had run out. Obviously he was ashamed of her and did not wish to give her further opportunities to embarrass him in front of council members.
A knock on the door broke Lifa's depressing thoughts. A servant had come to deliver a note. As she thanked him and closed the door, Lifa's heart pounded inside her chest.
The note bore Fili's seal, but it was not written in his hand. Sinking onto her bed, she frantically read the note looking for any explanation as to what had been happening. It was short and to the point, and devoid of any aspect of Fili's warm personality.
He was travelling to Ered Luin on a matter of urgent business. He apologized for not telling her in person, but it was late the night before when he learned that he would be making the trip, and he left long before dawn to get there as quickly as possible. There was no set timeframe in which he would return, but he did not intend to be in Erebor for Durin's Day.
Lifa was rereading the letter for the fifth time when Signi finally returned home.
"What is it?" she asked, horrified by Lifa's obvious distress. Rushing over to the bed, she sat beside her sister and gingerly took the tear-dampened letter out of her hands. Skimming over the writing, she pressed her fingers to her lips to muffle a gasp of her own. "He has gone? This is why he wasn't there this morning?"
Lifa nodded woodenly. "It was the king's orders. Urgent business it says, but it doesn't say what the urgent business is."
Wrapping an arm around her sister, Signi pulled her into a hug and kissed the top of her head. It was not like the prince to be so vague or unfeeling. Just a few weeks before he had promised Lifa that they would wed. Now he was travelling across the continent and could not even spare a moment to say goodbye. Signi could only imagine what pain Lifa was experiencing. Silently cursing the balls off of the crown prince, Signi gave her a little shake and tried to cheer her up. "Now see here, let's not think about him leaving. Think about him returning instead. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder."
"You always say that absence makes the heart forget," Lifa grumbled. "And he doesn't say when he is coming back, just that it will be after Durin's Day. That is still months away. He will have forgotten all about me by then –"
"Nonsense! His love for you will be a thousand times stronger and he will come back to shower you in all of the diamonds and mithril the king's gold can buy until you cannot refuse him."
Lifa gave Signi a weak chuckle, "Oh, don't tease me like that. There are thousands of lovely dwarrowdams living in Ered Luin, and they are all fine ladies who would make a fine queen someday. I haven't the faintest hope that he will hold out for me."
"Is your prince so weak that he can't wait for your hand a few months longer?" Signi cried, annoyed with her sister's lack of confidence. "May Mahal take his bollocks if he dares to return betrothed to another, for only a dwarf strong enough to stand up to Thorin and all of the other naysayers deserves you!"
"That is terrible!" Lifa snorted, desperately trying to hold back a laugh at Signi's mock anger. "I pray Mahal keeps his – er, him – intact, no matter what decision he makes."
Satisfied that her sister's expression was much less dreadful than before, Signi jumped up, pulling Lifa with her. "Come with me," she said, dragging Lifa into the hall. "Let's go have a drink with Dwalin and Gimli and forget all about idiotic dwarves tonight."