Oh my goodness, I can't believe how long it has been since I last updated. Thank you so much to all of you who stuck around and gently reminded me that I needed to update ;) What can I say? Life. I blame life for this one. And it will only get worse as I started grad school in addition to my full time job. Please forgive the numerous spelling, grammatical, and continuity errors in this one as I am sure you will find plenty of them. I try re-reading over my previous chapters to make sure I don't mess anything up, but there are too many of them now! And of course I keep going rogue on the plot (thus making this story longer and longer). Let me know what you think. I have the next several chapters outlined, I just need time to get them out. Reviews are my favorite :)
"People themselves alter so much, that there is something new to be observed in them forever." – Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice
Signi skipped down the path to Dale ahead of her father's cart, thrilled that she managed to find a way back to the city without the king knowing or interfering. In the weeks following that night when he accosted her atop the tower and ordered her to stay away from Stonehelm, Signi had resorted to bribing Gimli to continue checking in on the welfare of the Dale workers. Each day, Gimli begrudgingly went to the site to confer with Stonehelm, and each day he returned with news that Thorin has again delivered food to the workers. But it was not enough to satisfy Signi.
A raven arrived that morning announcing that Signi's mother, Bara, and her two youngest sisters, Baila and Elin, had reached Esgaroth. They would take a ferry just after noon to Dale and would require an escort the rest of the way to Erebor. Mikel had planned to make the trip alone, but quickly caved when Signi began listing all the reasons why she should accompany him.
In their private room, Lifa made it quite clear that she disapproved of the trip.
"You know that the king does not want you to go to Dale," she said sourly, watching Signi as she hurried to dress for the walk. "I don't know why you insist on defying him every chance you get. Did you ever think that maybe he is worried about you and your safety?"
Signi rolled her eyes. "I don't think that the king gives a single thought to my safety. He is prideful and jealous of Stonehelm, so he forbids me from seeing him. He is also prideful and jealous of King Bard, so he hides the dwarrowfolk in the mountain rather than expose us to a leader that puts his people first."
"You should not talk that way," Lifa hissed. "King Thorin is a very good king to his people. He has always put his people first! You have become so wrapped up in this ridiculous vendetta against him that you have thrown out all reason! Go to Dale then, gawk at the people's suffering, and then wrongly place the blame on King Thorin. I don't care. Just remember what I said when he finds out that you are questioning his abilities as our king."
Signi did not let Lifa's words bother her. Even on the path to Dale, she was far more excited to leave the mountain than concerned about Thorin's thoughts on the matter.
The construction site fell in full view of the dirt road that they travelled along, giving Signi the passing opportunity to see how Dale's workers fared. Even though they were well into September, when the weather ought to be cooling, searing heat continued to plague the region, making it nearly unbearable working conditions for those on the site. With only a couple trees in the area and no completed buildings, there was little shade available to the workers. As they passed, Signi could see several dwarves gathered beneath the trees, gulping ale and water, allowing the precious liquid to trickle down their beards and soak the front of their shirts. The men of Dale labored away under the beating sun and barking orders of Stonehelm, dragging loads of stone to the foundations to be mortared in place when the dwarves had finished their rest. It is not a complete picture, Signi thought as they moved along the road. The dwarves surely do not expect men to carry all of that stone without aide.
The City of Dale was bustling with life as Signi and her father entered its gates. Children were quick to swarm their cart hoping for a gift of treats or coin to be bestowed upon them. Signi had lined her pockets with Erebor pastries and miniature meat pies just for this purpose, and was more than happy to hand them out.
Further into the city, women did their washing in the ruined fountain that sat in the center of Dale. It was a lively group of all ages, each of them laughing and singing as they worked. Signi was instantly reminded of the women in the Iron Hills working together to tan hides or to sharpen axes.
Dale's market was situated between the city center and the docks. The number of stalls had grown since her last visit. Most of the merchandise seemed to be based on necessity – tools, cloth, and food – rather than the excesses available in Erebor's market. A stall near the center of the row seemed to be overflowing with customers to the point that they had engaged in a bidding war.
"What are they trying to buy?" Signi asked Mikel, raising her voice to be heard over the shoppers as they shouted prices.
Mikel peered contemplatively over the crowd, his brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of the scene. "Medicine, of sorts," he answered, "Though I am not entirely sure. It is far more likely to be that snake oil rubbish of the west than anything useful, I am afraid."
"Have they no healers?"
"No," Mikel replied sadly, "The healing arts have been lost on man for many years. So few know the most basic remedies. It is no wonder that we outlive them twice over or more. And with this unusual heat….we must pray to Mahal that they make it through winter."
With time to spare until the ferry arrived, Mikel decided to stop off at a rather lonely stall of books. Most of them seemed to be relics of the days before Smaug first attacked, salvaged from the rubble, their pages black and smoky. But Mikel was more than happy to dig through the sooty remains to find a treasure.
Signi decided instead to wander back up the street a bit to finish handing out the treats she carried. Pausing by the crowded stall, she noticed a small boy with red-rimmed eyes, staring dejectedly at the crowd. Crouching down before him, Signi offered a hanky for him to wipe his eyes and dripping nose.
"What is it?" She asked softly. "Why do you cry, boy?"
The child hesitated, having no doubt been warned about talking to dwarves, much less strangers. Only after Signi produced a little blueberry tart with lots of sugar on top did he speak up.
"I-I-I came to get m-my mama some m-m-medicine," he hiccupped as tears began streaming again. "B-But the man won't take my p-payment." Opening his hand, he showed Signi a small brooch of brass and freshwater pearls.
"Where did you get this?" she asked gently. It was not a valuable piece of jewelry, but it obviously meant something to somebody.
"It's my mama's," he explained. "My papa gave it to her a long time ago. But my sister is sick and mama doesn't have anything else to buy medicine with."
"And your papa?"
The boy bit his lip and dropped his chin to his chest. "He died," was all he whispered.
Signi's heart was breaking with each word. It didn't take long for her to connect his father's death to the tragic attack of Smaug just a few years before. So often the people of Dale and Esgaroth paid for the dwarven greed of Erebor.
"Listen carefully," Signi said, grimacing to keep her own tears at bay. "I am going to help you get that medicine. You say that man won't take your money? Well I bet he will be happy to take some gold." Shaking three coins out of her purse, Signi showed them to the boy. "I am going to buy that brooch from you. You take one gold coin to that man and buy some medicine for your mama. And make sure he gives you some silver back. There isn't a thing that he is selling in there that is worth a whole gold coin. Do you understand?"
The boy nodded as she pressed the coin into his hand.
"Then I want you to take this coin and some silver and buy your mama some fish, milk, bread, and carrots. Buy all that you can carry." She gave him the second coin. "Take this third coin to your mama and tell her to hang onto it so she can buy medicine the next time you or your sister are sick. Can you remember all that?"
"Yes ma'am," he mumbled, carefully stashing the three coins in his shirt pocket. "Thank you, ma'am."
Signi nodded in response with a smile. "What's your mama's name? And where could I find her if I wanted to?"
"Her name is Margrit and she is usually working in the King's House. She works in the kitchen," he explained.
"Such generosity," said a cool voice behind Signi. "The king should be proud of this display of dwarven charity."
Closing her eyes, Signi shuddered. She could recognize the slimy voice of Lord Brasi in any situation.
"I have to go," she said quickly, squeezing the boy's hand. "Do what I said and make sure you mama knows that she did not sell her brooch in vain."
Turning around slowly, Signi's scowl met Brasi's smirk with full force. She was not intimidated by this dwarf, nor was she concerned about his opinion of her. It was guaranteed that Thorin would learn about her trip to Dale by nightfall, but she wouldn't give Brasi the satisfaction of her own fear.
"Yes," she answered in response to his comment. "I am sure the king would be very proud of my charity, as you call it – if one would consider the purchase of goods charity. By all means, share this information with Thorin. He will be far too grateful to consider what you are doing in shopping in Dale's market rather than the perfectly good market in Erebor."
Brasi's smirk turned to a sneer as he quickly shoved the small parcel he carried behind his back. "You dare to call the king by his given name? You have gotten far too comfortable here and have forgotten your place. You belong with the pit miners and pig farmers in the Iron Hills, suckling at the tit Dain dangles for you to feed your vanity. I am very much looking forward to giving the king the necessary information to get you and your wretched father and sister out of Erebor for good!"
Signi's grin widened with each word and her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Make sure you relay all of that to Thorin when you tell him about our visit. I know how well he values your opinion on such matters."
Turning away before he could reply, Signi began stomping down the road toward the harbor. She would deal with the king, but Brasi had another thing coming if he thought for a second that he would get away with threatening her family.
The arrival of Bara, wife of Mikel Wordsmith, and her two youngest daughters coincided nicely with Erebor's Labor Day celebration. With more than two thirds of the mountain's population falling in the skilled labor sector, Thorin Oakenshield was wise to appoint a day of celebration for every miner, smith, and stonemason in his kingdom. A feast was planned on the grounds outside of Erebor, complete with a massive bonfire for roasting meats, cask after cask of ale, and eastern fireworks freshly delivered to Dale (though nothing comparable to the wizard's delightful fireworks).
As expected, Bara's arrival tested the already strained limits of Signi's patience. Shorter and squatter than all of her daughters combined, Bara was once considered a true beauty. Over the years her coppery hair still shone as bright as it had as a young girl in the Iron Hills. With sapphire blue eyes and a long red beard that hid her numerous chins, it was very easy to see where Lifa got her looks. Bara's temperament, on the other hand, was nothing short of ridiculous. Once the initial greeting had passed, and the traveling ladies had taken rest, Bara resumed her ever constant pursuit of a spouse for each of her daughters.
"When you have all daughters and no inheritance to offer them," Bara snapped, when Signi had finally reached her breaking point, "you see what else besides marriage occupies your every thought."
"Just ignore her," Lifa said that night as she and Signi prepared for the celebration. Without a prince to impress, Lifa had chosen to wear a rather drab grayish blue gown and no jewelry. Her hair was left down in long red ringlets and flowers were weaved into a braided crown.
"I can't ignore her," Signi moaned, wincing as Lifa yanked at her hair as she braided a similar crown. In a rare moment of concern for her appearance, Signi chose to wear a white lawn gown with intricate white embroidery and cutwork along the skirt and neckline. She did not wear much for jewelry – just a thin gold necklace holding a single pearl that her father had bought her years ago in Gondor. "And what about Elin? She has become nothing but a shameless flirt! She is far too young to be at such a party without a chaperone."
"Without a chaperone?" scoffed Lifa. "Mother and Father will both be attending –"
"Mama will just encourage her and Father will be too engrossed in thought to pay attention," Signi grumbled.
"Well Baila will make sure she does not get into trouble, you know how she disapproves of Elin's behavior."
"Baila will be hiding in the corner hoping for a dwarf to come talk to her about Baldr's Essays on Khazad Morality written in the first age. She won't get near Elin if she can help it."
"Then she will have her two eldest sisters to watch out for her," Lifa said, shaking her head exasperatedly at her stubborn sister. "It isn't like we have suitors to keep us occupied tonight. Besides, we have not seen our family in so long, it won't hurt to catch up."
Signi winced at the suggestion. "Fine," she agreed. "But keep Mama away from the wine."
With the bonfire lit and the festival in full swing for over an hour, Signi and her sisters were finally ready to go. The trip to the front entrance was littered with Bara and Mikel's bickering and muffled groans from their daughters who followed behind. Signi's lip was nearly bloody as she tried to follow Lifa's advice and ignore her mother. Their father's responses did nothing but fuel Bara's determination.
"Oh! Single, my dear, to be sure. And two princes of Erebor! What a fine thing for our girls."
"How so? How can it affect them?" Mikel asked calmly, unperturbed by his wife's scheming.
"My dear, Mikel, how can you be so tiresome? You must know I am thinking of the princes marrying one of our girls." Bara said, her voice just shy of being hysterical.
"Is that the king's design in inviting us to this festival?"
"Design?" She screeched. "Nonsense! How can you talk so? But it is very likely that they may fall in love with our girls. Oh, if only the crown prince were here! He and Lifa must make a lovely pair…"
Signi cast a swift glance at Lifa following their mother's words. Only her slightly pursed lips gave away any indication that she might be bothered by the mention of Fili. But that did not stop Signi from reaching out and squeezing her hand for comfort. It was going to be a long night.
The muffled sounds of celebration floated through the halls, deep into the mountain, settling at the door of the treasury. Thorin once again found himself leaning against the door, mustering the courage to go inside. Gimli had been a good a faithful treasurer over the years, never asking why the king chose him to enter the treasury in his stead. Everyone knew why the king avoided it, but only those who had seen the dragon sickness take hold with their owned eyes were polite enough not to talk about it.
Somewhere, deep beneath the piles of gold and jewels of Thror's hoard was Thorin's strength. It had become easier with time. When he had first taken the mountain, just holding a few gold coins in his palm would make him sick, the fist of greed gripping tightly in the pit of his stomach. The golden crown of his forefathers burned on his head and his knees shook under the weight of it. Burying the Arkenstone had allowed Thorin to take back his sanity and to be the king they needed. But it did not eliminate the madness lurking with in.
'Are you afraid?' Thorin gritted his teeth as Stonehelm's words replayed in his mind. He knew better than to let that little miscreant's words get to him. And yet, how could he argue? What kind of king cowers in front of his own treasury? 'Fear does not become you.'
Slowing he reached out, his hand fumbling to find the door handle in the darkened corridor. Bile rose in his throat as he wrapped his fingers around it. 'They say you are spineless,' Signi's words from a few weeks before surfaced; the very spite within them had more impact that the blow of a sword against his armor. 'You are cowering to Lord Brasi and King Bard.' Leaning his forehead against the cool metal of the door, Thorin felt his grip slacken on the handle.
"Uncle? What are you doing?" Kili's voice at the end of the corridor startled the king from his thoughts.
"It's nothing," he rumbled, quickly turning away from the door. "We should get going. They will be waiting."
Ignoring his uncle's suggestion, Kili took a few steps forward. The torch he carried shone light on the king, clearly displaying his sweaty brow and pained expression.
"It doesn't look like nothing," Kili said quietly. "Have you been able to go in yet?"
Thorin's head dropped. How easily his nephew could read him. "It is not my time," he replied with enough finality to end the conversation.
But Kili could not be stopped. Reaching forward, Kili gripped his shoulder. "Perhaps it is. I could help you. We could go in together." To most, Kili's enthusiasm would be infectious. But to the king's sick mind, his nephew sounded as though he was eagerly waiting to line his pockets with gold.
"I said it is not my time!" Thorin barked, glaring at Kili to make his point. Kili shrank back and allowed his hand to drop. "I will make the trip in to the treasury when I am ready, and I will go alone."
Kili pursed his lips, but made no reply. Thorin knew right away that he was out of line to yell at the prince, but it was too late. Perhaps they were right – this madness could never be shaken. He could only pray to Mahal that Fili and Kili be granted reprieve from this disease.
Silently the pair left the treasury with Kili leading the way to the festival outside. There were countless opportunities along the way for Thorin to make amends, but he just couldn't bring himself to apologize.
Despite all of her apprehensions, Signi found the festivities to be quite agreeable. The atmosphere was much more relaxed than a formal ball, and there was food and drink aplenty. Tables were placed around the fire at just the right distance to be warmed against the night air, but not so closed that the people sitting at them were overheated. Fat pigs from the Iron Hills and deer from the surrounding woods roasted on spits around the fire. Casks of ale were tapped, as well as cider and mead from Hobbiton. A group of fiddlers had gathered to one side on an impromptu dance floor.
Signi quickly found a spot that allowed her to see everything going on with relative ease. She was joined by Lifa, and later by Kara after she left her husband in the quietest place he could find with a plate of meat and a book. Marriage seemed to be much more satisfying for Kara than Signi ever imagined it to be. "I have my own parlor – he never disturbs me there. And between his preparations for Lady Katlin and his daily exercise, we see very little of each other. I am quite content," she explained.
As expected, Elin could easily be found surrounded by a cluster of Dain's soldiers, as well as a few from Erebor. At just 30, she had finally grown out of her awkward long limbs and her figure had plumped nicely. Like Signi, her hair was long and dark, but there was only the slightest shadow of a beard along her jaw. Big blue eyes and her constant flirty smirks seemed to be her biggest draw as dwarves were clamoring for her attention.
Kili had been quick to capture Lifa's hand for the first dance. Signi was grateful for the distraction his attention provided. With all of his spins and dramatic flair, Lifa was soon laughing more in a few minutes than she had in weeks. Kili would be a good brother to Lifa, and it was in that vein that Signi felt a twinge of sadness. Fili had become far too vacant, and any hope that Signi had for his return to Lifa was merely show.
Stonehelm had been granted leave to join in the celebration, mostly to keep his soldiers in line. But his soldiers were the very last thing on his mind, as Signi could see with a twinge is distaste. As he hovered by the barrels of ale, his hungry eyes followed Miri's every move. And he was rewarded, it seemed, with no small amount of heated gazes from Miri's hooded eyes as she danced with soldier after soldier, avoiding Stonhelm's arms completely. He had not changed in the slightest since their days in the Iron Hills, and for that reason Signi was thankful that her attraction has been fleeting.
Closer to the mountain stood Thorin surrounded by a gathering of lords. Even in the distance, Signi could see the discomfort in his stiff shoulders and stoic brow. To most he would appear proud or regal, but to Signi he seemed to be backed against a wall. And when Brasi pushed his way up front to shake Thorin's hand, Signi quickly felt her own stance mirroring that of the king, her conversation with Brasi that morning replaying in her head. Thorin would find her soon, but this time she wasn't sure she had the strength to fight back.
Signi was three pints of ale in before Thorin made his Labor Day speech.
"As you all may know, we are gathered here on this fine night to celebrate those that keep our kingdom moving forward, the ones who keep us fed and safe, and are the very life of Erebor. When our creator forged us, it was not with song like the elves and man. We were not made from the thoughts and gentle words of the Valar. Mahal created us from the earth with his hands and his hammer. We were built with strength and fire, and we were made to carry on this tradition."
Thorin's deep voice reverberated through the air with a power and authority that most could only dream of processing. Even the crickets in the woods and frogs on the edge of Long Lake silenced their croaking to listen to his words.
"It is not with poetry and song, accolades and praises, that we gain favor in the creator's eye, but with hard, honest work. Even your own king made his living as a blacksmith in the days of exile. And so we celebrate tonight, those within the mountain that keep our lords fat and our ladies bonnie. Those who keep us safe with their strength and steel. Those who keep our fires roaring and the riches flowing. We thank you, and may Mahal bless all your days until you have joined the earth once more!"
Thorin's speech was met with loud cheering from all who had gathered, followed by the gulps and belches of a few thousand dwarves drinking in honor of the king's speech. Even Signi could find no fault in the king's words.
It was not until long into the night that Brasi decided to make his move. Signi had most certainly imbibed far too much ale and her head was starting to swim. Sitting with her back against Kili's seemed to be the only thing keeping her grounded as he passed her his pipe for another hit.
"Look at her, Sire. Is she even fit to remain at this party? Drunk as she is." Signi sat up quickly and looked around to find Brasi, Dwalin, and Thorin standing a small distance away. Dwalin scowled at Brasi as he spoke, his knuckle dusters clinking as he clenched his fists. Thorin frowned as he listened, his eyes boring into Signi's as though attempting to read her mind.
"And it is no wonder, have you heard her mother? Drunk as a common bar maid, and bragging that Lifa is to be married to the crown prince. And don't even get me started on the youngest flirting shamelessly with all those soldiers…"
"You should consider your next words carefully," Thorin replied, his fierce glare turning to Brasi. "Given your own daughter's proclivity of taking nighttime strolls to the beds of tarnished dwarves."
Kili's muffled snicker could be felt through his back, doubling when Signi dug her elbow into his side. "Uncle has a point," he whispered, reaching across her to get his pipe back.
Signi was burning up. His aspersions on her own character were dismissible – she was undoubtedly drunk and had no desire to impress anyone at the gathering with ladylike manners. But the nerve of that disgusting excuse of a dwarf to say such things about her family…She would not stand for it.
Despite her better judgement, Signi stood, only stumbling slightly. Ignoring Kili's whispers to leave it alone, she made her way over to the king and Brasi. Dwalin's smirk as he stood behind the dwarves only fueled her determination further.
"Good evening, your Majesty," Signi said sweetly, greeting Thorin with an unsteady curtsy. Ignoring his deepening frown, she bobbed her head twice more as she addressed the two other dwarves respectively.
Turning to Brasi, she threw all caution to the wind. "Sir, I never did ask. What was it that you were buying this morning in Dale? I daresay there is nothing in their market that I saw superior to any merchandise of Erebor. A good dwarf must have lost a fair amount of gold to man in Dale." Not a neat strategy, but she was not about to let that creature drag her through the mud before throwing her under the mine-cart wheels.
"You went to Dale today?" Thorin asked Signi, not in anger as expected, but more in surprise.
"Aye," she answered, taken aback by the near concern in his voice. "I went with my father to pick up my mother and sisters from the ferry."
Thorin nodded, but did not reply, turning his scrutinizing gaze toward Brasi instead.
Brasi's eyes cut to Signi, clearly angered by the king's obvious lack of concern for her whereabouts. "Perhaps you should share with the king the nature of your purchase in Dale."
"Absolutely," Signi said through clenched teeth. "I purchased a piece of jewelry from a child who had no father to provide for him and his family as no vendor in the city would accept it as currency. The coins I gave him were to be used to buy medicine for his sick sister and food for the family. As no Erebor jeweler works with freshwater pearls, there was no loss in Erebor's capitol."
Thorin considered Signi for a moment, his eyes expressionless as he carefully planned his next words. "I see no problem with this scenario, much to your displeasure I am sure Lord Brasi. We have far more than the families of Dale could ever dream of. Signi here is a fine example of what charity should be. It is not a hand out, nor is it a meager reward for back-breaking labor, it is a fair profit and feasible exchange. Maybe you should consider this lesson before you bring yet another plan of extortion to my council table."
Dwalin's grin grew wider in the silence that followed the king's words, though Signi was not clear if it was at the sheer anger raging through Brasi's ever-cool demeanor, or if it was at the look of pure shock that Signi did not even attempt to hide. Either way, he was wise to not disrupt the delicate balance that held back responses of Brasi and Signi alike.
Looking at each expression with a cocked eyebrow, Thorin seemed unamused by the pair of them. Throwing back the remains of his ale, he marched away from the gathering, pausing only slightly to dip his head in a polite bow to Signi before leaving.
Brasi followed soon after, bee-lining toward his daughter as she danced, yanking her forcefully from young soldier's arms and stormed her up the hillside to the mountain.
Dwalin came to stand beside the still-shocked Signi, putting a bracing arm around her shoulders. "Never thought I would see the day when a lass would give the king back his bollocks rather than the other way around."
Away from the crowds, sheltered under a towering oak, Thorin found the solitude he craved. His hands shook, not from his dispute with Brasi – that was a long time coming – but from his brief interaction with Signi. What a fool he was becoming if just speaking with a dwarrowdam could clench his stomach and make his palms shake.
The firelight was his weakness, as she stood before him encased in a golden glow, her cheeks flushed from the drink and the warmth of the night. She was proud, for which he praised Mahal with every opportunity, and she did not hesitate to put Brasi in his place. Her boldness was intoxicating and Thorin found himself following suit.
He would pay for his remarks, that much was evident in Brasi's expression following his dressing down. But it was worth every moment seeing the dwarf reap what he had sown. It would be next to impossible to carry out the next steps of his plans with King Bard now that he had lost his chiefest ally. But perhaps, Thorin thought as he clenched his hands against the thundering in his chest, Signi could finally have a bigger role creating a more solid union with Dale. But first she must accept a gift.
The fireworks boomed overhead, their yellow and red sparks lighting up the sky and highlighting snaky smoke trails. Thorin knew he would be missed if he lingered much longer. Slowly he ambled back to the celebration, his head and heart lighter than they had been in months.
Some of Bara's dialog in this chapter was borrowed from the wonderful Jane Austen. We will see more of Elin and Baila in later chapters. Ugh, Brasi...I've never wanted to kill off a character so badly.