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One has got all the goodness, and the other all the appearance of it." - Jane Austen, Pride & Prejudice
Midway between Esgaroth and the Iron Hills, a cold wind from the north shifted, bringing with it deep snow drifting over the East Road. The village they stopped in was fortunate to have an Inn, and the innkeeper was more than happy to accept the hefty bag of Erebor gold that Mikel handed over in exchange for their two best rooms and stables. The beds of the Wolf's Head Inn left something to be desired, but the fire was warm, the food was hearty, and the ale was exactly what Signi needed to drink away the lingering thoughts of Thorin that had followed her.
Lifa thought she was asking for trouble when night after night she crept down to the tavern for a pint after yet another dream stole her sleep. Each sleepless night she was filled with guilt as the memory of Thorin's expression after she rejected him swam in her mind. Signi was not worried about her safety. She still had one of her daggers hidden under her cloak, and something about surviving one near-death experience made all other dangers pale in comparison.
Most nights, she drank alone, sitting in the corner of the room, staring moodily into her stein. The men left her alone for the most part, and the few lewd suggestions made in her direction were stayed by a scowl that rivaled the dwarf king's infamous glower. Other nights, she was joined by dwarves travelling from the East, all making their way to Erebor.
Signi had never met Blackloks before, but she had heard tales of their nomadic lives in the plains east of the Iron Hills. Blackloks were famous for their fierceness in battle, aided by the great falcons that nested in the Withered Heath. They were also famous for their belief in honor and elections. With the exception of Thror, no king had been worth their fealty since the second age.
On the first night, the whole tavern fell silent as three dwarves stomped their snow caked boots at the threshold. They were shorter than the Longbeards, the tallest amongst them only reaching Signi's shoulder. Despite the layers of fur, she could see that they had thickly corded muscle, and their black beards were long enough to tuck into their belts. Little was said between them as they approached the barkeep, and their dark eyes watched every person in the room as they negotiated rooms for the night.
On the second night, another group of Blackloks, four of them, came in with the same manner as the previous night's guests. Signi watched, intrigued as their leader appeared to be a dwarrowdam whose beard that was divided into hundreds of tiny braids. As she and her companions gathered their drinks, she spied Signi in the corner.
"We will sit here," she announced, sitting heavily into the chair across from Signi. The dwarrows she traveled with pulled up additional chairs, but did not directly acknowledge Signi.
"I am Tuya," She said, reaching across the table and shaking Signi's hand in a vice like grip.
"Signi," she responded, "And you are?" she asked the dwarrow sitting closest to her.
Tuya let out a loud laugh, and Signi was sure every person in the room was staring. "He does not understand a word you say. Few of our people speak Westron. He is my husband, Gan."
"I see. And I am guessing your other companions also do not speak Westron?"
"That's right. This is my husband, Batu. And my husband, Erdn."
Signi's eyes grew wide. "Three husbands? You must be a very busy dwarrowdam. I can't imagine keeping one husband in line, much less three."
Tuya laughed again. "Perhaps I need three husbands just to keep me in line."
Signi conceded with a nod and clinked her stein against Tuya's. "Where are you heading?" She asked. "I have never seen Blackloks this far West before."
"It has been centuries since my people have traveled to the West," Tuya said, leaning forward with a conspiratorial whisper. "We are going to Erebor. You have been there, no?"
"Aye, I have been there," Signi said. "In fact, I just left there."
"You left Erebor? But I hear there is a great king there. We are going to see this mighty king. He needs warriors. We are great warriors."
Signi's expression shifted to a look of surprise.
"You know of this king? Is he not great?" Tuya asked, her brow furrowed as she glanced between Signi and her companions.
"Oh no, he is definitely a great king," Signi said quickly. "Greater than Thror, if I might be so bold as to say. You heard that he needs warriors?"
"We received word, maybe a month ago, from the younger prince. He sent a message saying that the elves had failed to protect their allies and that Erebor needed more dwarves to patrol the land. We have heard tales of this Oakenshield. Tales of his battles and his people. He is a dwarf of honor."
"I'm sure his wealth is also a factor," Signi said.
Tuya scowled and spit on the ground, her companions doing the same. "His wealth means nothing to us! We have our own riches, we don't want money!"
"Peace," Signi said, holding up her hands. "There are many who want his gold. I could not be sure."
"Perhaps," Tuya said, her tone suspicious. "In the East we have seen great troubles. The orcs are growing in number and the villages of man have started creating alliances with them. There is no honor in the way they fight, the way they kill without reason. They serve a faceless master. It is not our way, but even dwarves can be swayed by evil. Our clan is divided. Some have joined the men. They plot against their own kind. Others choose to remain, they choose to ignore the dangers. But we will not ignore, and we will not sell our swords to the undeserving."
"Who is this faceless master they serve?" Signi had not heard of such a man, and she wondered if this was one of Thorin's many worries that he shielded from her.
"He has no name," Tuya shrugged. "No body, nothing. Some say he was a god once, but he is long dead."
"That doesn't make sense," Signi said. "How can they serve someone who is dead?"
"There are many things about this world that do not make sense. That is why we go to Erebor."
Thorin was the first to arrive to his council chamber. His footsteps seemed amplified in the silence as he moved heavily to his seat at the head of the table. The scabbard of the Orcist tapped against his leg as he walked, the feeling so foreign in the last few years of peace. Thorin rarely counted his blessings from Mahal, but this revelation was at the top of the list.
Thorin was seated at the table when Balin and Dwalin arrived, each of them flanked by armed guards. He was thankful again for his loyal companions. They had honored his requests for the guards without questioning his sanity.
More dwarves arrived, all of them filtering in to their respective seats. A few cast weary glances at the guards present, but made no further acknowledgment. A rumor had been floating through the mountain that Brasi was on the warpath, so it came as no surprise that Thorin was prepared.
The room fell silent when Brasi finally arrived. He approached the table slowly, with loud purposeful steps. He was there for a fight, and the king was ready. Thorin smirked as he watched Brasi's approach, noting with satisfaction the angry red scar forming on his left cheek. Signi had left her mark.
"Lord Brasi," Thorin called down the long table, his voice echoing in the silent chamber. "You have finally deigned to join us. Has your injury finally healed? Three missed meetings for a scratch. Seems excessive for a dwarf, but maybe they do things differently in Ered Luin these days."
Brasi did not respond right away as he slowly lowered into his seat, not taking his eyes from Thorin's. Reaching into his coat, he pulled out a small object wrapped in cloth and dropped it on the table with a loud clunk.
"My injury, as you call it, would not be taken so lightly if it were one of your precious nephews," Brasi said, his own self-satisfied smirk forming.
"Obviously," Thorin sneered. "And what would you call it if 'injury' is too insignificant a word?"
"An attempt to take my life, or is that too ambiguous for you, Your Majesty?" Brasi's voice was coated with disdain as he spoke. Thorin grit his teeth to keep from ending the conversation before it even began. How tempting it was to silence Brasi forever with one swipe of the sword.
"And what evidence do you have that such an event took place?" Balin asked.
"I have the weapon," Brasi announced. Pulling away the fabric, he revealed a dagger with inlaid rubies laying on the table before him. "I was attacked the night before Durin's Day by an assassin that I can only assume was hired by the king. The dagger does bear his mark."
Dwalin rose from his seat, taking the dagger from Brasi to inspect it with his own discerning eye. "Aye, this is Thorin's make. But this dagger belonged to Signi. You are not suggesting that the lady had anything to do with this, are you?"
"And what if I was?" Brasi countered.
"The night before Durin's Day, you say?" Balin asked, shuffling through the stack of papers before him. "Would that have been before or after you were inciting a riot in Dale?"
Brasi's eyes widened and his cheeks flushed in anger. "I had no part in that –"
"Well according to Thorin Stonehelm, the visit to Dale was your idea," Balin said. "And Princess Sigrid reports seeing you with the accused in Dale. So please clarify, was this 'attempt to take your life' before or after you strangled Lady Signi in Dale?" The room erupted instantly in roars from the other council members. Signi may not have been a favorite amongst them, but she was certainly not deserving of such treatment.
"That whore attacked me with a blade forged by our king, and you expect me to ignore that fact?" Brasi shouted, pounding his fist on the table to reiterate his point. His shouts were lost in the protests of the other council members.
"Do you not see what he has done," Brasi howled. "Our so-called king has sold our kingdom out from under us! He has allowed that girl to poison his mind, to make deals with Dale behind our backs. He allies with elves!" But his shouts were in vain as they all shook their heads, speculating Brasi's trustworthiness.
"I believe our good Lord Brasi has gone mad," Thorin said, the council members chuckling in agreement.
"I have proof that Oakenshield has sold our kingdom!"
The chuckles from before became rolling laughs. "Well go on then. What is this proof that you've got," Gloin said, wiping away humored tears.
"I have a message that arrived just this morning from Prince Fili himself," Brasi said, pulling out a parchment message from his pocket. The room became quiet once again as they all listened to him read.
"Lord Elrond has accepted my gift of the Arkenstone. He agrees to send 2500 of his soldiers over the Misty Mountains to patrol our Western lands. He looks forward to our continued allegiance to his power."
The council members remained quiet as their eyes collectively darted back and forth between Brasi and the king. Brasi took the silence to mean a victory on his part and he continued with accusations.
"Thorin Oakenshield is too weak to even look at the Arkenstone. His grandfather would be ashamed to see this sham of a kingdom! But to send the stone out of the very mountain that birthed it, and to put it in the hands of an elf for what, a few soldiers? I could have provided those soldiers. I offered them to Thorin, free of charge! But no. He refused my offer and has sold our kingdom to the enemy. This is treason of the highest degree! I demand that we remove Thorin from the throne at once!"
No one dared to breathe as they waited for the king's response.
A low rumble erupted from Thorin, transforming into a rare laugh that filled the hall and left the council members dumbfounded. "For weeks my messages from Fili have been going missing," he said. "I finally have my culprit."
Reaching into his pocket, Thorin pulled out the very Arkenstone he had supposedly given away. "Looking for this?" He asked Brasi. "Did you honestly think I would sink so low as to give away the Arkenstone? To an elf? I am guessing you were the one telling everyone that Fili is engaged to Princess Vara as well. Amazing what lies you believe when you think you are being clever."
"I don't understand," Brasi said slowly, his eyes glued hungrily to the white light of the Arkenstone. "The messages were intercepted as soon as they arrived. How could they possibly be false?"
"You were always a step behind my sister," Thorin said. He motioned to the guards and they moved forward to capture Brasi. "And now you will pay the price. Lord Brasi, I am arresting you on the charges of attempted murder, espionage, and treason. You will be given a trial, and if found guilty, a sentence to be carried out by me, your King."
"You will pay for this, Thorin Oakenshield," Brasi hissed as he was dragged away.
Kili gave his uncle some space, watching silently as he knelt in the snow and spoke with his maker. It was an odd choice to hold Brasi's trial atop Ravenhill, but the symbolism was not lost on Kili. Thorin and his nephews nearly met their end at this very tower, and it was Brasi's scheming that brought Azog and his son to Erebor.
Thorin was still in prayer as Balin, King Bard, and Bain arrived. Bard's expression was set in grim determination, though his son looked slightly ill. Kili supposed that his own expression wasn't too far off from Bain's. In their short reign, neither king had found execution to be a necessary punishment. But neither had encountered crimes as heinous as Brasi's.
"Are you sure you want to do this here," Balin asked quietly as Thorin joined the group. "This should be a public trial. King Thror always-"
"I will not be seen as the monster my grandfather was," Thorin growled, his gaze sharp as he looked at each of them. "My grandfather was a great king until the madness took hold. He once issued death with discerning hand, but that changed when his greed took over. Public trials are for kings without honor or respect. I was once that kind of king," Thorin glanced at Kili, his hand landing heavily on his nephew's shoulder. "But I am that king no longer."
"You've made a fine choice," Bard said.
The muffled sound of clanking metal and argument announced the arrival of their prisoner at the base of the tower. Escorted by Dain and Dwalin, Brasi's protests could be heard echoing through the empty chambers of the watchtower. Thorin turned toward the steps, his hands clasped in front of him, as he prepared to face the accused. Kili moved to his right side, taking a similar stance, and the others moved to Thorin's left.
Brasi stopped arguing when they reached the snow-covered top, his face wretched into a scowl as he faced Thorin.
"Kneel before your king," Dain growled, jostling Brasi's cuffed arm.
"I will not."
"You will," Dwalin said, pressing the toe of his boot against Brasi's right knee, forcing the dwarf to the ground.
Thorin stepped closer, his face impassive as he approached. "Lord Brasi, you have been brought before me on charges of attempted murder, espionage, and treason. These charges have been based on the following testimonies.
"The charge of attempted murder is linked to your actions on the first night of November. You were witnessed with your hands about Lady Signi's throat by Princess Sigrid, who also heard you make threats of intent of murder and disposal of her body. Princess Sigrid's father, King Bard, is present and confirms the authenticity of this charge."
"Aye, it occurred as you have described," Bard said.
"The charge of espionage stems from your theft of personal messages between myself and the Crown Prince, which was revealed by your own admission two days ago in the meeting of the council. Lord Balin, Prince Kili, and I all confirm the authenticity of this charge."
"Aye," Kili and Balin both responded.
"The final charge of treason can be linked to a number of actions, including your decision to sell information of my quest to Azog the Defiler. However, as that action occurred before I took the crown, it is not officially included in your trial. It is your plot to steal the Arkenstone for your own financial and political gain that has resulted in this charge, revealed through the questioning of Thorin Stonehelm, heir to seat of the Iron Hills. As Stonehelm could not be present, Prince Kili, who served as witness to the questioning, can confirm the authenticity of this charge."
"Aye."
Kili watched Brasi as he silently listened to Thorin's issuing of the charges. The dwarf showed no signs of repentance, nor did he show the stoicism of a one accepting their fate. Instead, his cold eyes never broke contact with the king, a sneer lingering on his lips.
"Given the charges and evidence against you, Lord Brasi, I call on those present to vote on your sentencing. For the charges of attempted murder and espionage, the sentence is exile from the kingdom of Erebor. For the charge of treason against your king and people, the sentence is death. Therefore, Lord Brasi, I hereby sentence you to death by beheading. How does the jury vote?"
A chorus of "aye" came from all present.
Thorin pulled Orcist from its scabbard, the blade gleaming in the white light of winter. "Have you any final words?"
Brasi glared at the sword before snapping his focus back to its owner. "Kill me now, if you must, and be cursed! You are no king of mine, Thorin Oakenshield."
"As you wish," Thorin growled, nodding to Dwalin. Using his boot, Dwalin pushed on Brasi's back until he was leaning forward, his head bowed low. Thorin raised the Orcist, bringing it down with one strong swing.
Kili swallowed hard as he saw the snow stained red with Brasi's blood. The dwarf's head had fallen away from his body, his blank eyes open and his mouth slacked open.
"Bury him quick," Thorin said, wiping his blade on the hem of his cloak. "I am assuming we have no way of contacting his daughter?"
"She fled the mountain as soon as he was arrested," Kili answered, finally dragging his eyes away from the morbid sight. "She could be anywhere at this point."
"I could send a search party after her," Dwalin said.
Thorin shook his head. "Although she was far from perfect, Miri did not commit her crimes on her own. She is free for now. She will get what she deserves should she follow in her father's footsteps."
Kili joined his uncle as they walked down the steps together. It had been three years since either of them stepped foot on Ravenhill on a very similar kind of day. Though the circumstances remained grim, with the death of Brasi, Kili finally felt like the battle had been won.
"You made the right choice," he said quietly, not even sure that Thorin could hear him in the wind.
Thorin turned his head, his eyes catching Kili's with a slight smile. "Erebor became ours' today. We are free from the wickedness of dragons and dwarves."
When the snow cleared, more than a week later, Signi was thankful to be back in the Iron Hills. But the feeling was short lived as she could not put off sharing the contents of Thorin's letter with her sister much longer. The whole situation was almost too absurd to relay, but Lifa deserved to know the truth.
Bundled in thick furs, the sisters walked along the wall, taking in the barren landscape beyond Dain's fortress. It was a shame that they had missed seeing the changing colors of autumn in the trees blanketing the surrounding hills.
Signi waited until they were alone, the closest guard too far to hear their conversation. "Thorin asked me to be his wife," she whispered, her breath pluming in the cold air. She was sure that Lifa did not hear her, but when she began to repeat it a few moments later, her sister finally responded.
"He asked you to be his wife?" Lifa's expression was bewildered as she tried to comprehend Signi's words.
"He found me, insulted me and our family, and told me that he wanted me to be his wife so he could get the Arkenstone." Signi scowled as she recounted the moments when the king asked her to be his queen. It was the sort of moment that dwarrowdams dreamed of, but every time she thought on it, Signi wanted to smack some sense into Thorin. "You don't blame me for refusing, do you?"
"Of course not" Lifa cried. "That was a proposal deserving of refusal. But how poorly the king must be faring now. "
"I just told you of the abuse he hurled at me before proposing, and you are worried about how he is faring?"
"Nothing the king said was untrue," Lifa said, her eyebrows raised in admonishment. "Though I cannot argue that it was hurtful of him to speak so plainly. But for a dwarrow, who has been through so much pain and loss in his life, to be so sure of his success…yes, he must have been wounded greatly by this rejection."
Signi scowled, leaning against the stone wall and staring off into the distance. If she squinted, she could see the dark smudge of Erebor rising against the clouds. "He wrote me a letter and gave it to me while you were at the Durin's Day feast."
"He came to our rooms?"
"No, no. He wouldn't be that brazen. He was sulking outside the library, waiting for me."
Signi described the contents of the letter, glossing over the parts about Thorin's intentions behind sending Fili away. She didn't mind sharing that Fili had purpose in his travels, but she couldn't bear injuring Lifa by suggesting that Thorin had hoped that her romance with the prince would cool in the passing months. Instead she spoke of Stonehelm and his shameful deeds. Signi imagined, as she detailed their childhood friend's actions in Ered Luin and his deceitful seduction of Vara, that Lifa would find the accusations hard to believe. But Lifa did not seem remotely surprised by these revelations.
"Thorin Stonehelm has disgraced us all with his foolish ways," Lifa said, her tone unusually biting. "How many ladies must be felled by his rakish ways? Just think how close you came to falling for his charms? And the poor king! Hiding his regard for you and seeing Stonehelm's shameless flirting right under his nose! It is a miracle that he did not take more drastic measures. "
"You must stop feeling sorry for Thorin!" Signi cried. "He is not so weak that he can't survive this rejection. Do you honestly believe that he thought twice about me all those months ago? This is a new development. And I was not 'close' to falling for Stonehelm's charms. I just regret speaking so vehemently on his behalf. It was wholly undeserving and Thorin must think me the biggest idiot for not seeing it sooner."
Lifa wrapped an arm around her sister in a comforting hug, leaning with her against the stone wall and staring off into the horizon. "The king would never think that of you. But what will you do with this information?"
Signi chewed her lip as she thought. "I don't think Thorin intended for me to make the information public. But I don't want to see others fall prey to Stonehelm's schemes. "
"Oh no, you definitely should not share the contents of the letter. Princess Vara's virtue must remain intact. But I think we should certainly warn any ladies we see who are being charmed by Stonehelm."
"With luck, there will be none that need the warning," Signi groaned.
The loud clang of a bell sounded from the Lord's House, announcing dinner in the great hall. Lifa sighed, taking one more wistful glance to the west before turning to head back with Signi. "I suppose we should go inside. I would give anything for just one supper without hearing Mama tell anyone who will listen that Prince Fili has disappeared for good and that I will probably die of a broken heart."
"I received a letter from Kara today," Signi said with what she hoped was a supportive smile. "Maybe I can distract Mama with that so she can talk about how Vifil and Kara are planning to redecorate our dining room when father finally dies."