You know that moment when you are writing and there is this really big, amazing part coming up, but you are frustrated because you have to finish writing the bits that come before it? Yeah, I'm there. Big things happening soon (no Fili yet - Sorry! I miss him too!) and I am dying because I want to post them now and I can't :(
Thank you for all of the wonderful reviews, favs, and follows! I truly appreciate all of your support :)
"I think you are in very great danger of making him as much in love with you as ever."―Jane Austen,Pride and Prejudice
Thorin awoke with a sharp jolt, followed by a bruising pain in his left side. He was lying face down on the stone floor of the corridor, his limbs spread haphazardly around him. For a moment he wondered how he managed to fall asleep on the floor, but then the memories came flooding back.
He had fainted. Swooned like a damn maid seeing her bridegroom unclothed for the first time. Amazing how a metal wretched from the earth could fell him faster than any orc army.
"Get up, you brute," huffed a female voice above him. Thorin rolled out of the way just in time as a beaded boot swung toward his ribs once again.
"Mahal, sister," he groaned, rubbing his face with both hands as he laid on his back. "You don't need to keep kicking me."
Dis kicked him again for good measure before crossing her arms impatiently.
"Well I certainly wasn't going to carry your heavy arse all the way back to your room," she snapped. "And you're wearing all of that Mahal forsaken chainmail…"
"Yes, yes. I get it," he said dismissively. Slowly he stood, wincing as his side and joints ached in the process. He was far too old to spend his nights lying on the cold stone floors. Glancing to his left, he saw the treasury door was securely shut. It was no longer calling to him, but he knew it would be too risky to try going in again.
"Care to tell me what you were doing in there," Dis asked sharply, her blue eyes flashing in anger.
Thorin groaned in response. He did not wish to discuss it with his sister, and he certainly did not wish to discuss it in the middle of a public hallway.
"There is nothing to tell."
Dis stomped her foot and looked as though she had half a mind to kick him again. "Don't lie to me! You had the good sense to lock yourself out of the treasury three years ago. Why ruin it now?"
The king snorted derisively. Like Dis would understand what it was like. She was immune to the sickness, just as her sons seemed to be. She would never know what it was like to have to lock herself away from the greatest treasure of her own kingdom.
"Oh, I have had enough of that, Thorin Oakenshield," she snapped, poking a finger into his chest hard enough that he felt it through the mail shirt. "You think I can't possibly understand what you suffer because I don't let my brain get addled by metal and rocks. Well let me just say that you will never understand how I feel when I watch my grandfather, father, and brother get taken in by something as ridiculous as gold. And then, damn fools that they are, they keep going back for more! They like giving away their ability to think for themselves to some shiny objects like a magpie collecting for his nest! If you think my sons will be joining you in that madness, then you are –"
"Enough!" Thorin shouted, his hands grasping at the sides of his head ready to tear out his braids if it meant his sister would stop with her ranting.
Dis said nothing, but gave him an expectant glare that was a mirror image of his own.
"I am not trying to slip back into madness," he began slowly, quiet enough that the guards could not hear. "I am trying to do just the opposite. A king should be able to enter his own treasury without losing consciousness. I have been trying to do just that, and for the first time I made it past the door."
"And down the bloody steps," Dis muttered.
"And down the bloody steps," he repeated with a smile. "For a moment I was strong enough to not be bothered by the gold. I could look at it indifferently. It paled in comparison to…"
Thorin trailed off, not wishing to reveal what had occupied his mind for those first few moments in the treasury. His thoughts had not been of the most innocent variety, and Dis would take anything he told her and run with it.
"In comparison to what?" Dis asked, her lips twitching at the mortification creeping onto her brother's face.
"Never mind," he growled, pushing past her to stomp down the hall to his room.
"There are few things in this mountain that you love more than gold," Dis said as she followed. "And even fewer dwarrows…"
Thorin muttered unintelligibly, refusing to engage in his sister's probing. She would work it out of him eventually, but not without a fight.
"You love Fili and Kili, me, even Dwalin." Dis held up a finger for each name as she spoke. "But none of us are more tempting than gold. Hmmmm, must be someone rather lovely. I hear that the elf king is more beautiful than any maid walking the earth…"
The king cursed at the mention of the elf king, his eyes turning to his sister with a menacing glare.
"Ouch, sensitive," she chuckled. "I guess even Thranduil's beauty can't surpass Erebor's horde."
They stopped in front of the Thorin's study, and for a moment he hoped that Dis might continue down the hall to her own rooms. But life was never that simple, and the king swore again when he was followed inside by his sister as she continued listing possibilities.
"Perhaps it was the hobbit. Such a fine example of humility, surely Bilbo Baggins gave you the strength to enter the treasury again."
"Mahal," he groaned, pouring a glass of wine from the decanter sitting on his desk. "Give it a rest!"
Dis smirked as she swiped the wineglass out of his hands and took a sip. "As you wish, brother. You keep your secrets. I won't tell anyone that a lass with 'fine brown eyes' is more appealing to you than gold."
Thorin did not argue. There was no point. Dis could read him with the unnerving accuracy of a diviner.
"It only worked for a moment," he said, staring pensively into the fire. Why did it not work when he tried to imagine her again? Were gold and riches truly more important to him than Signi?
"Well of course it did," Dis said, rolling her eyes. "You are still hanging on to the Arkenstone as though it might save the kingdom. As long as that thing is on your mind, you will never have enough room in your heart for Signi and the gold."
"The dwarves answer to none but whoever holds the stone. How can I expect them to answer freely to me when I can't even get near it?"
"Hang them all!" Dis huffed. "Each and every dwarf who thinks a shiny rock holds power. It does nothing but fuel greed. It would do us all better if it were in the bottom of the lake with Smaug's bones."
Thorin sighed as he sat in the leather chair beside the fire, leaning his head back against it. She was right, as always, but it did not solve any of his problems. With the Arkenstone back in place on his throne, he could quit groveling at the feet of dwarf lords and properly turn his attention on to his kingdom. It would not make him a better king, but it would show the dwarves that the madness was truly gone.
But just thinking about the stone made his stomach turn.
Closing his eyes, Thorin imagined himself standing before his throne, the white stone glimmering high above him. A hand was hooked around the crook of his elbow, thin fingers and a slim arm leading to the dwarrowdam standing beside him. Signi was radiant next to him, a crown of white gems matching the Arkenstone on her head. Heat flared in his belly at the image. With Signi – with the queen – the Arkenstone would have no power over him.
"Do you know what you are doing?" Dis asked quietly, interrupting his thoughts.
He did not need her to elaborate. It must have been terrifying for her to find him lolling on the treasury floor. She would not be willing to repeat that incident.
"Mahal, no," he said, his brow lowered in frustration. "But I can't keep sitting on my hands waiting for things to happen. Tonight was the first time I have been able to enter the treasury since the battle. I can't ignore it now that I have found something that works."
Dis said nothing as she crouched beside him and clutched his hand. Thorin appreciated the gesture and squeezed her hand in return, leaning forward to press his forehead to hers.
"You're a damn fool, Thorin Oakenshield," she muttered. "If you mess this up – the Arkenstone or Signi – I will hang your bollocks from the ramparts."
The arrival of Lord Brasi at the construction site was the very last thing Stonehelm would have wished for, especially after the rather disastrous morning he had. A weakness near the base of the construction caused an entire wall to come down when the final stone was placed on top. Days of work crumbled to the ground in a second. Blame was immediately thrown between the dwarves and the men, which nearly led to blows. Stonehelm was quick to break up the fight, barking curses at all involved and sending them home without wages to cool off.
His father was a fool to agree to this. There was little that the men of Dale could do, and although dwarves in Dain's army were trained in basic construction, none had built anything of this magnitude. Add to it that King Thorin was breathing down their necks demanding that the project be completed by Durin's Day, this plan was quickly turning into a bigger mess than the taking of Erebor had been.
Stonehelm had been avoiding Brasi. As more and more of his investments were lost, he became increasingly savage in his behavior. His opinions were intoned with radicalism, and Stonehelm wondered just how desperate he must be to make such irrational suggestions. Brasi might not be an honest dwarf, but he was typically cautious and calculating in all that he did.
Avoiding Miri, on the other hand, proved to be impossible. He craved her from the moment he woke, to the moment he laid down in his feather bed with nothing but his hand to vent his frustrations. He craved her enough that he found himself sneaking into the mountain to join with her as she would no longer come to him. The shame he felt after each visit was crippling, but not enough to stop him from seeking her again.
Miri kept him posted on what was going on. Raven after raven arrived to the mountain, detailing Fili's courtship with Vara. Some days Stonehelm was blind with jealously as he listened to the notes. Fili had it all: the crown, the gold, the princess. He even managed to capture Miri's affections in a way that Stonehelm never could. She would never admit it, but Stonehelm could hear the venom of envy staining her words every time she mentioned the newly betrothed.
But Fili was no longer part of their plan, so Stonehelm could not understand why Miri continued keeping tabs on him.
"Have you come to bask in my failures once again?" Stonehelm spat as Brasi approached, his eyes looking over the collapsed wall with interest.
"Not this time," Brasi said smoothly. "Although this might help our cause."
Stonehelm bit back a curse. Brasi managed to get his fingers in everything, always taking the opportunities as they came to further his schemes.
"I fail to see how a wasted week of labor will get the Arkenstone in my hands, but by all means, enlighten me."
"You lack imagination," Brasi sneered. "Much like your cousin."
Stonehelm did not take the bait. Like his daughter, Brasi enjoyed inciting reactions in people, taking words said in anger and locking them away to be used as blackmail later on.
"King Thorin has given me a new role," Brasi continued. "Something to distract me from everything he is doing behind his council's back. But it will fail, and I will have him in my grasp once more."
Rolling his eyes, Stonehelm indulged Brasi in his fantasy. "Oh, and what is this new role?" Brasi had tried countless times over the years to gain power he did not deserve, and every time ended in failure. This would be no different.
"I am now overseeing the budget and completion of the facilities here. After looking over the numbers, I am sad to say that we are grossly over budget and past our deadline."
"You don't say," Stonehelm muttered angrily, his eyes raking over the heap of crumbled stone.
"From this day forward, and apparently not a moment too soon, we will be making some changes. I cannot stop the king's food from being given to those too pathetic to work for it, but I do have control over their wages."
Stonehelm frowned as he listened. Since the king started sending food to the job site each day, the men from Dale worked longer and harder than before. They had more strength and could handle the demands of the job much better. But they would never have the strength and abilities of the dwarves.
"What about their wages?" he asked defensively.
Brasi smiled, a cold smile that did not reach his eyes. "Traditionally an employee is paid by the amount of work they complete, not this flat wage that these men are being paid to work. It is such a ridiculous notion. How you face your own soldiers and tell them that they are being paid the same as a man who does half the work? It is dishonorable to both your soldiers and the men."
"My soldiers are not fool enough to believe that the men have the strength to do the same amount of work," Stonehelm snapped. "They understand what the king is trying to do and do not question his motives."
"Perhaps," Brasi sniffed, seemingly unperturbed by Stonehelm's defense of the king. "But that mentality will get you no closer to the Arkenstone. The king may have charitable intentions, but he is being steered by the bollocks by that insipid girl. Just like your father always was."
"Leave Signi out of this," Stonehelm growled.
"You too? Mahal help us. An orc general may not be able to wipe out the line of Durin, but a slip of a dwarrowdam who hasn't seen her hundredth birthday can."
The challenge was enough to rouse Stonehelm. He could not stand to listen to Brasi much longer, but he also could not bear allowing the bastard to think that he had the upper hand.
"What will you have me do," he asked finally, meeting Brasi's cold eyes with a fierce glare.
Brasi smiled in victory. "Announce to the men that the king is dissatisfied with their work and that wages will be given based on the amount of work completed. If they argue, they can forfeit their position to more willing workers. "
"You know that they will not take this without a fight," Stonehelm said.
"I am counting on it."
A week passed in Dale and Signi was proud to announce to King Bard that they had met their goal of checking on every home in the city. After the first day, Signi learned that Princess Sigrid could be quite formidable when she chose to be, and by the week's end she had recruited an additional twenty women to help with treating sick children. Dis was also impressed with this and mentioned on several occasions that Sigrid would make a fine dwarrowdam if she were a foot shorter.
The sickness seemed to be concentrated in the poorest of the city's slums. All of Dale's citizens caught the disease as easily as the next, but only those too poor to buy proper food and medicine suffered.
Signi faced her first setback on the fourth day when a toddler she had been treated passed in his mother's arms, the fever too severe to overcome. It was her first time seeing death with her own two eyes. She handled it like the yellow-bellied coward she was, choosing to neglect her duties for the remainder of the day and to drink away her grief in the pub. Sigrid had come in like thunderstorm, dragging her off her barstool and cursing like an Esgaroth fishwife.
"I thought you dwarves were supposed to be stronger than us," Sigrid snapped as she dragged Signi over to the fountain to splash some water on her face.
"We are," Signi grumbled. "It's just seeing that boy…he was doing better yesterday. I thought he would be fine."
"He died. It happens and it is terrible, but life goes on," Sigrid said, her mouth set in a hard line. "Do you think my Da could get away with draining the taverns when our Ma died? He tried it once and I marched in there like I did just now and pulled him out by his ear. His friends teased him for weeks that he could be bossed around by a seven year old girl."
Signi was ashamed, rightfully so. Her grief was real, just as it was for everyone else in the city. But she could not let it get to her. The people of Dale were counting on her.
Sigrid became one of her best friends on that day. She was never afraid to tell Signi when she was being ridiculous, but also celebrated her successes.
"I hear the King's great aunt has come to Erebor," Sigrid said a few days later as they walked back to the King's House. They had come to an agreement that wine made the unpleasant work more bearable, but it could only be imbibed at the end of the day in the safety of King Bard's home. "And his cousin, Lady Ana," she added with sly smile.
"Yes, his betrothed," Signi spat with more vitriol than intended. She had not officially met either of the ladies, but it did not sit well with her than they living under the same mountain.
"Careful, your tone speaks of bitterness," Sigrid teased as she opened the door leading directly into the kitchen of the King's House. "Perhaps you should tell me how you really feel about the king's cousin."
Signi snorted, her nose wrinkled in disgust. "There is no bitterness on my part. I have only seen her from a distance, but I like her appearance. She looks sickly and cross. She will make him a proper wife indeed!"
"I don't believe that you believe that for second!" Sigrid laughed. "Perhaps you should call on them, join them for diner, so you can see just how much the king loves his dearly betrothed."
"Lady Katlin would never deign to entertain the likes of me," Signi scoffed.
But Signi was greatly mistaken, and nearly two weeks after Lady Katlin's arrival at Erebor, she was indeed invited to join the dwarrowdam for dinner.
She had joined Kara for an afternoon spent sewing canopies for Dale. They worked in Kara's parlor and remained blissfully uninterrupted by Vifil. Her husband, Kara explained as they worked, had become engrossed in learning about locks and their mechanisms to the point that he had devoted an entire room in their home to building and dismantling locks. It was work that kept the dwarf occupied for hours on end and Kara was an ardent supporter of this most respectable hobby.
"Have you met the great Lady Katlin?" Signi asked, her lips twitching with a smirk. As far as she knew, the dwarrowdam was ostentatiously rich and had the personality of a goblin, but she would never say that to Kara.
"Aye, I have met her. I knew of her back in Ered Luin," Kara said slowly, eyeing Signi's smirk warily.
"And?" Signi prompted.
Kara hesitated, her eyes darting about the room as though she wished to make sure that they were alone. "And she is the most dreadful dwarrowdam on all of Arda," she groaned. "But I cannot complain now that I am married. She is sensible, and certainly respectful. She is an attentive neighbor and a good employer. Mahal has blessed Vifil and I in that manner."
"I suppose that is good," Signi said, her tone deflating with disappointment. Somehow she hoped that Kara would spend the afternoon railing against the dwarrowdam. A selfish wish as it would only make Signi feel better and Kara feel worse about her situation.
Vifil appeared at the door of the parlor just before dinnertime. He hovered hesitantly, seeking his wife's permission to intrude. Kara smiled politely and beckoned for him to enter.
"My dear. Miss Signi," he said gallantly, nodding his head to each of them. "Mahal is most certainly smiling upon us this day."
Signi glanced with raised eyebrows at her friend to see how she received this pronouncement. Kara continued smiling, unfazed by her husband's ridiculous mannerisms
"Why is that, my dear?" she prompted gently.
"Ah, but of course you did not receive the message directly, for I interrupted it as I was leaving my study….it seems we have received this most generous note from Lady Katlin herself, written most graciously in her own hand." He handed the note to his wife for her to see it in all its glory.
Signi had not been fortunate enough to meet the great Lady Katlin, but she doubted that there was a dwarrowdam alive that deserved the level of worship that Vifil gave his employer.
"We are invited to join Lady Katlin and Lady Ana for dinner tonight," Kara announced, her eyes flickering to Signi. "And you are invited to come as well, Signi."
"Me?" Signi said with far too much hysteria in her voice. "I did not know that she was aware of my existence."
"Now, now," Vifil chastised. "Her ladyship is very well informed about the goings on of the mountain. She has been most interested in learning about the project you ladies have been working on in Dale."
Signi thought she might be sick. Somehow, dining with the King's aunt, the sister of Thror himself, was nauseating. Lady Katlin alone was a bit more of the Durins than she could stand in one evening.
Kara seemed to read her mind. "Lady Katlin is a gracious host and will provide us with dinner conversation that is…diverting. Do come. I think that you enjoy meeting her."
There was an underlying message to Kara's words: please come and give her something to talk about besides me. Signi could not possibly refuse her friend, no matter how much it pained her.
"I must go change," she muttered, finally agreeing to Kara's silent plea.
"No time for that," Vifil said. "Lady Katlin does not appreciate guests who are late for dinner. Just wear what you have on – there is no need for anything finer. Lady Katlin will not think less of you for dressing simply. She likes to have the distinction of rank preserved."
Signi scowled as she looked down at her brown linen dress and boots. The freshwater pearl brooch was the only adornment she wore, serving as a reminder of why she spent her free time sewing canopies. Her hair was down for once with a small braid on each side linked together behind her head with a silver bead. It was certainly a simple dress. It was very unlikely that Lady Katlin would be mistaken of her rank.
Vifil fluttered around the room as the ladies put away their sewing and took turns in front of the looking glass to smooth errant hairs or to pinch their cheeks. His ramblings alternated between commenting on the great condescension of Lady Katlin to invite them to dine with her, to telling them to make haste lest they be late for dinner. At last Kara and Signi were ready to go to the Royal halls. Each took one of Vifil's arms and they marched through the halls to Lady Katlin's at the triple the necessary speed.
The home of Lady Katlin in Erebor was a mere one tenth of the size of Tourmaline Hall in Ered Luin, but Signi was sure there were none within the mountain that could match the splendor of her rooms. Like the throne room and the king's dining room, thick veins of gold coursed through the black marble slabs. The ceilings were exceedingly high for an underground home, and the chandeliers with hundreds of candles must have taken hours to light.
It is very possible that all of this would have gone unnoticed by Signi as she never took interest in such trivial matters. But Vifil was most enthusiastic in his descriptions on the way to her home.
After the very efficient introductions by Kara, who did not bother with the bows and apologies that her husband preferred, Signi thought it most appropriate to compliment the dwarf in his work.
"Your home is lovely, your ladyship," Signi said with a low curtsey. "Mr. Vifil has done a fine job preparing such accommodations for you and your daughter."
Vifil nearly tripped over his own beard in excitement.
Lady Katlin was exactly as Signi imagined. She was a stately, handsome dwarrowdam despite her age with an air of self-importance that surpassed the king's by a surprising degree. There was no questioning the distinction she perceived between herself and her visitors, and in the moments following their introduction, Signi was instantly reminded of the very conceit of her friend Stonehelm. With Lady Katlin being the sister of Gror, Stonehelm's great-grandfather, it was no wonder that there was a family resemblance between the two of them.
Her daughter, Ana, seemed to be the exact opposite of Lady Katlin. Frail and sickly, Ana had the permanent appearance of exhaustion. Her features were plain and her personality of little significance. She did not speak unless asked a direct question, and since most in her company were familiar with her lack of conversation skills, they did not stress her further by talking to her more than necessary in polite conversation.
When dinner was announced, the group was led to a fine dining room with settings for at least five courses. Signi sat across from Kara and Vifil as far from Lady Katherine as possible. There were two extra place settings – one beside Lady Katlin, and one between Lady Ana and Signi.
"You can't sit next to your wife," Lady Katlin barked from the head of the table. "Trade places with Signi!"
Vifil dutifully moved to the other side of the table and waited for Signi to leave her seat. She too quickly moved to the spot between the empty plate and Kara.
"Will there be others joining us, your Ladyship?" She asked, her eyes glancing over the empty chairs.
"Of course, my niece and nephew shall join us."
Signi's stomach clenched instantly. The king would be joining them and she was dressed like a pauper. For the first time since meeting him this fact was distressing.
Thorin and Dis arrived just as the first course was being served. Lady Katlin did not accept any of the king's apologies and reprimanded him for being tardy before all who were present. He did not argue, but simply bowed his head in resignation and moved to take his seat beside his aunt. Signi could see that Lady Katlin clearly thought that her placement of the king was of clever design as he was placed directly across from Ana, but it was most distressing to Signi who sat directly to his right. Dis took her seat across from Signi with a smirk firmly planted on her face.
Signi laid her napkin across lap, preparing to eat as the others did the same. Out of the corner of her eye, she dared glance at the king, only to find him staring back with a polite smile.
"I trust your sisters are doing well?" he asked quietly.
"Aye, as well as they can," Signi said a bit more pointedly than she intended. Baila and Elin were perfectly content in Erebor, but Lifa was growing more distant with each passing day.
"I see," he said slowly.
"Do you play the harp?" Lady Katlin asked suddenly, interrupting the quiet conversation between Signi and the king.
"A little, my Lady, but very poorly." Around them, the clinking sound of silverware punctuated the air, but there were no murmurs amongst the guests as there typically were at these dinners. It seemed that all present were anxious to hear Signi's responses the lady's probing questions.
"Do you smelt?"
"Not at all," Signi answered with a smile. Lady Katlin seemed unimpressed by this.
"And your sisters, do they smelt?"
"Not one."
Beside her Thorin shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes meeting his sister's across the table.
"I suppose you have had no opportunity, growing up in the Iron Hills," Lady Katlin said. "And has your governess left you?"
Signi grit her teeth before answering, her patience growing thin far too fast. "We never had a governess." Thorin's eyes were on her, she could feel them roving over her face, taking in her taut expression.
"No governess!" Lady Katlin cried as though it was the most absurd notion she had ever heard. "With four daughters and no governess! Your mother must have been a slave to your education."
"Not at all," Signi answered with a smile, picturing her mother teaching the four of the smelting and the harp.
Lady Katlin's expression soured at the sight of Signi's smile, but she continued on with her interrogation.
"Are any of your sisters out?"
"Yes, all of them."
All of you, out at once!" Katlin gasped. "And with you and your elder sister not even married! Your youngest sister must be very young."
"Yes, she is not thirty-one. But I think it would be very hard on younger sisters to not have their share of fun just because the eldest have chosen not to marry. It would hardly encourage sisterly affection."
Across the table, Dis coughed suddenly, masking a laugh into her napkin. Her brother also seemed to be amused by this, the corner of his mouth turning up slightly.
"Upon my word, you give your opinion very decidedly for a dwarrowdam so young. What is your age?"
Signi found herself smirking at this question. She had no reason to conceal her age, but the intrusive nature of Lady Katlin's questioning made her want to evade it.
"With two younger sisters already grown up, you cannot expect me to own to it."
Vifil chose that moment to clear his throat very loudly, and to shoot Signi a warning glare of sorts. Even Lady Katlin's gaze had sharpened, unimpressed by the impertinence of Signi despite the same impertinence she exhibited by asking for her age.
But none of that mattered when beneath the table, Signi felt a large, warm hand envelope hers. Her eyes shot to Thorin's, and he gave her a look that could almost pass as admiration as he squeezed her hand. He released her hand almost immediately, but the feel of his calloused palm and fingers on hers lingered all through dinner.
After dinner, they moved into Lady Katlin's grand parlor. The room was covered in lush carpets, heavy sofas, and large tapestries depicting well-known battles - all dutifully pointed out Vifil in the most reverent of tones. To one side of the room was a massive golden harp.
Thorin had stayed beside Signi as they walked, not speaking but maintain a comfortable closeness. It was strangely natural to Signi, as natural as walking with her sister or with Kara. He seemed to be leading them toward a seat by the fire, away from the group but still part of it. Signi did not object to this as she was desperate to get away from Lady Katlin's attention.
"Come, Signi," Lady Katlin called, as she sat down on one of the sofas. "Play for us."
Signi groaned quietly, her eyes closing as she took a deep breath. "No, I beg you…"
"Ah, music is my delight," Lady Katlin said, ignoring Signi's plea. "There are few dwarves who enjoy music as I do. If I had ever learned I would have been a great proficient. So would Ana," she added sharply, her eyes cutting toward her pallid daughter. "If her health would have allowed her."
"Please your ladyship, I do not possess false modesty. When I say I play poorly –"
"Come, Signi," Vifil hissed. "Her ladyship demands it."
Signi cast a pleading glance at the king, but was met with a blank expression. Despite all of his politeness throughout dinner, he was not about to argue with his aunt on her behalf.
Pursing her lips, Signi sat on the stool at the harp and lowered the instrument to her shoulder. It had been years since she played, so it would be a miracle if she managed to produce something that resembled a tune. Deciding on her father's favorite tune, she began to play.
"How does Vara get along, Thorin?" Lady Katlin called above the music to where he stood by the fireplace, his eyes firmly planted on Signi as she played.
Thorin glanced up. "She plays very well," he said.
"I would imagine so, as long as she practices," Lady Katlin said pointedly.
Signi's fingers faltered over the strings, the notes of her song stumbling awkwardly together. Thorin did not reply to his aunt. Instead he stepped away from the fire and joined Signi away from the conversation that continued without him.
"You mean to frighten me," Signi said wryly. She remembered the conversation they had months before on top of the tower. Shivers coursed down her spine as she also remembered the way he laid his hands on her shoulders, guiding her movements with the sword.
"But you will not be alarmed?" He supplied quietly, his lips curling in a smile.
"I will not, no matter how well Vara, whoever she might be, plays."
Thorin's brow furrowed in confusion. "My sister has not told you about Vara?"
Signi snorted derisively. "I am not privy to the names of all dwarrowdams in your acquaintance." The unexplained irritation she had felt all evening in the presence of Lady Ana seemed to be compounded by the name of another dwarrowdam of comparable status.
The king seemed to pick up on this irritation and found amusement in it. Signi did not appreciate the smirk he carried as he explained their connection.
"Vara is my great-niece. She lives in Ered Luin. She is the daughter of my brother's daughter."
"Oh," Signi said, her fingers slipping on the strings again. Relief washed through her, followed by the mortification of being envious of the king's niece.
"Thorin! Come here!" Lady Katlin howled across the room. Thorin and Signi both flinched as their private conversation was disrupted so brashly. "You have not talked to us properly at all!"
With a grimace and a polite bow of his head, Thorin left Signi to join the others, leaving her all alone to pluck out awkward tunes on Lady Katlin's harp.
Signi plays The Rains of Castamere on the harp.
Most of the dialog from the dinner with Lady Katlin is borrowed from the 2005 Pride and Prejudice.