Wow! I cannot thank you enough for all of the wonderful reviews! I couldn't bear to keep them apart much longer. Enjoy and let me know what you think :)

Why is he so altered? From what can it proceed? It cannot be for me—it cannot be for my sake that his manners are thus softened. - Jane Austen. Pride & Prejudice

There were no husbands to be found in the Iron Hills, thanks to King Thorin's insistence that he needed Dain's soldiers for his cause. If Signi took her mother's and Elin's laments seriously, this was the most dreadful situation plaguing all of Arda. Never mind that Prince Fili was battling swarms of orcs in the Gray Mountains and dwarves were fleeing a faceless monster to the East, the fact that four unmarried dwarrowdams were sequestered in the Iron Hill's fortress without a single suitable dwarf to pursue was the absolute worst thing that could happen to their family.

Signi's contempt for her mother and sister was becoming more and more difficult to contain with each passing day. She began taking a leaf out of the father's book, and retreated to the library or the top of the wall the entire day to avoid their gossip.

News from Erebor was rare, but she managed to stay abreast of the largest developments. A rumor had traveled with the dwarves passing through that Prince Fili's army had grown more than double in size, but it was still half that of the orcs they were attempting to stop. She had little proof of the tales she heard, but one such story, that Prince Fili had fallen on the field, only to be saved by an elf traveling with the Dunedain rangers, she decided to shield from Lifa. Sigrid sent a letter, which arrived a few weeks after their return, announcing that Lord Brasi had fallen by Thorin's sword. It was bittersweet news: Signi was glad the horrible dwarf had faced the consequences of his actions, but never wished death on him.

The news did little to fortify or weaken her opinion of Thorin. He was king and it was well within his rights to sentence and execute criminals within his court. But she could not determine how much of this decision was made by his own clear mind. Did Thorin order the execution based on sound reason, or was his blinded by his ridiculous notion of affection and the Arkenstone?

Signi's nights continued to be fitful, and snippets of dreams followed her throughout the day. Smoke lingering in the air as she passed through the market reminded her of the sweet grassy smell of Thorin's pipeweed. The black mane of her pony as she galloped into the valley, far from her sisters' prattle, mirrored the king's black locks as they met on top of the watchtower. The clanking of armor as dwarves prepared to spar sounded similar to sound of her own body colliding with Thorin's plated tunic outside of the library, the feel of his solid form beneath her hands far too familiar. The king and his Mahal forsaken proposal clung to her like the thick fog that lingered over Long Lake. In the early morning hours, as Signi took her daily walk along the wall, guided only by moonlight, she allowed herself to wonder what might have happened had she accepted.

As the weather grew colder, and the days shorter, a lone group of dwarves decided that Erebor was the place to be as the New Year began. Several of those traveling were young, unmarried soldiers, though one dwarf had recently taken a dear friend of Elin's to be his wife. Signi's mother was elated to hear that Elin was invited to be her dear friend's special companion on this trip to Erebor. Signi learned of this development one afternoon as she returned from a sparring session in which she had imagined each sword stroke to be slicing memory after memory of Thorin that had been occupying far too much of her mind in recent weeks.

"What is going on?" she asked Lifa, who stood red-faced with her hands on her hips as Elin and their mother fluttered around the house with dresses, ribbons, and furs scattered over every inch of the front room.

"Elin has been invited to return to Erebor," Lifa said, snatching her silver fox fur stole out of her sister's hands as she passed. Elin stuck out her tongue and stomped back into their rooms to pilfer more of Lifa's clothing.

"Oh for the love of Mahal." Signi said. The weeks following their return to the Iron Hills had done nothing to temper Elin's childish behavior, and her flirting, if possible, had grown even more outrageous.

"I have tried talking to them, but it's hopeless."

"Where is Baila? She always says that anything enjoyable in life is an indulgence that we should avoid. Surely she can talk Elin out of it."

"Mahal, I wish," Lifa said through gritted teeth, rescuing her ivory combs that Elin tried to slip past. "Baila has locked herself in her room, distraught because she was not invited to join Elin on the trip."

Signi stared opened-mouthed at her sister. Madness had clearly overtaken the household. Spinning on her heel, she marched into her father's study, determined to stop this madness from continuing.

"Papa, surely you do not intend to allow Elin to travel for weeks in the company of dozen young men with only one lady present to chaperone, a lady who is not but five years older than Elin and newly married?" She hadn't meant to shout this at her father, but the sheer of insanity of the situation made it impossible to modulate her voice.

Mikel looked up from his writing, his spectacles perched on the end of his nose, and his hand holding a dripping quill. Raising his eyebrows, a smirk teased the corners of his mouth as he said "You don't approve?"

"Of course I don't approve," Signi groaned, dropping in the chair next to his desk. "Elin is a shameless flirt, and she will bring nothing but shame on us. Our family will be even more of a mockery – "She cut herself off quickly, not wanting to 'than it is' to her statement. Her father did not know what Thorin had said to her that night, and she did not want to elaborate on that statement.

Mikel's eyebrows rose even further, but he did not comment on her abrupt stop. "Elin will not be content until she has made a complete fool of herself in some public place. Better it be Erebor than here to make that lesson stick."

"But Papa, don't you see? It's not just Elin that is affected. Her behavior reflects poorly on all of us, on me and on Lifa. There are many who would not wish to be associated with a family such as ours if Elin truly shames herself."

"Has she frightened away some of your lovers already?" Mikel chuckled. "That shouldn't be so bad then. Any dwarf who can't handle a little absurdity is to weak a dwarf for you girls. No, I could never approve such a dwarf."

"Papa, be serious," Signi groaned. "Elin's actions now can set the public's opinion of her for the rest of her life. She is only 30 and she will have a reputation of being a shameless flirt, or worse. And then others will wonder if her sisters are the same, which means sweet Lifa, who desperately wishes to be wed before she is too old, has nearly no hope of finding a respectable suitor. Elin needs to know that this is not acceptable behavior for a lady."

Mikel smiled gently and took Signi's hand in his. "I see that this matters very much to you. But you must understand. Until she goes, we will have no peace. She has a sensible chaperone and she is far too poor to be anyone's prey in Erebor. She will learn her own insignificance once she is there. And if she does get worse while in Erebor, then we can lock her up to be an old maid for the rest of her days."

The new year came and passed, and outside of a few fleeting moments as he watched Elin flirt her way through the banquet hall during the New Year's celebration feast, Thorin gave himself little opportunity to allow Signi to occupy his thoughts. It had proven to be a fierce battle, but each time he forced himself to focus on duties, he did so with more resolve than he thought possible.

There had certainly been no lack of work to do. Each day, dwarves from the east arrived at Erebor's gate seeking refuge. Thorin would not dream of denying his kin, but the sudden influx of dwarves took every spare moment he had. Kili had been become surprisingly industrious and bore the brunt of the work, finding housing for the dwarves, assessing their skills to join the growing army.

The new year was starting better than the previous had, and with any luck, it would continue to improve. Removing of Brasi from his council chamber had proven to be the most effective way to motivate the other members to see the benefit in working in Dale. And in turn, King Bard and his council no longer held the opinions that had prevented such agreements in the first place. Trade routes had been expanded, as had the markets in both kingdoms. With Dwalin back in Erebor, care of the joint army had been passed to him. Stonehelm had been released from the dungeons following Brasi's execution, but he was stripped of his titles and rank.

"His talents are being wasted," Dwalin said one night as he and the king sparred. "He needs responsibility and to be held accountable. As a foot soldier, it is only a matter of time before he is back to his old ways."

"He had his opportunities," Thorin said, growling as he swung against Dwalin with more force than necessary. Dwalin blocked the blow with his axe, choosing wisely to not comment on the king's temper.

"Aye, and he had no one to answer to but his father. Do you really thing Dain ever held Stonehelm accountable for anything in his life? He needs occupation, and he needs a firm hand. Maybe even something more than himself to be responsible for."

"Like what? A child? Mahal, don't even suggest it." Thorin shuddered at the thought of Stonehelm producing an heir. Not one, but two of the wicked dwarves tormenting the taverns and whorehouses all across Rhovanian and back.

Dwalin grinned, no doubt reading the thoughts shown plainly on Thorin's face. "Might not be a bad idea."

Stonehelm's occupation wasn't the only conundrum that Thorin faced. The Arkenstone had not yet been placed in its spot above his throne. It had only taken a couple of days for the rumors to spread throughout the mountain about the King having the stone in his possession, and just a few more for word to spread to Dale and Esgaroth.

"What do you plan to do with it?" Dis asked one night, standing in the doorway of his study. It was not the first time that she had caught him staring at the mantle where it sat since he removed it from the treasury.

"I haven't decided," he growled, his eyes flickering to his sister with a warning scowl. This argument was growing tiresome, but still she persisted.

Dis was not fazed by her brother's vitriol. If anything, it spurred her further. Settling in chair across from him, her head blocked his view of the stone. The white light glowed around her braids, and with a smirk, Thorin considered telling her that the halo made her look like the elf king. Fear of her wrath was enough to stay his tongue.

"If you ask me, I think you should throw it in the damn lake."

"Good thing I didn't ask you then."

Dis rolled her eyes. "Even better, feed it to flames of Mt. Doom."

This was a new suggestion. Thorin stroked his chin and wondered if such a thing could ever occur. One thing he had learned since presenting the stone to his council was that, should destruction be the only course for the Arkenstone, it would be by his hand alone.

"Do you truly find me so possessed by the stone that I must cast it back into the earth?" He asked. If anyone would tell him the truth, it was certainly Dis.

Groaning, Dis leaned forward to put her elbows on the desk, propping her head up in her hands and massaging her temples. "I don't know," she said, her voice a whisper.

"You were not here the last time. I was a monster. I refused to give shelter to the people of Esgaroth. I threatened the hobbit, I fought with your sons. I suspected and accused those closest to me. I brought war upon thousands of innocents. That was the Arkenstone poisoning my mind." Thorin rarely spoke of his time of madness. At first he feared that remembering the serpent's voice would draw him back into the greed and hatred. But as the months passed, it was shame that swallowed up his mind and threatened to break him again. He knew that his sister had heard from her sons about his actions in those days, but he had never spoken of them to her directly.

"You are changed, though," She said. "You have become withdrawn and spend your evenings staring at the stone on your mantle."

Thorin stood suddenly and stomped over to the mantle. True the stone had sat there for the last few weeks, but it had not captured his attention. Beside it sat a small box that had appeared there the night before Durin's Day. He knew where it had come from without ever opening it. He could not bear to do it.

"This," he said, grabbing the box and displaying it to his sister. "This is what I have been staring at. The stone no longer calls me. It is cold. A powerless stone." Strange how Signi's words were so fitting in that moment.

Dis remained silent as Thorin returned to his seat, her gaze fixed on the little box. Leaning back in his chair, he turned the box over in his hand, his thumb stroking over the texture, toying with the lid as he contemplated opening it.

"Will this object carry you into madness as well?" She asked, breaking the merciful silence.

"No, I don't think it will," Thorin answered finally with a wry smile as he flipped open the lid. Inside, nestled in blue fabric, was brushed gold brooch in the shape of an oak leaf. "Give me time, sister. I will be as I once was."

When the last of the snow melted away and trees grew green with new leaves, the most exciting opportunity arose. Bara's sister, Arna, and her husband, Ulfir, would be travelling south to the country of Rhûn to meet with traders along the sea. The meetings would be dull, and Signi's aunt longed for a traveling partner to amuse her during the long days. The markets of Rhûn were rumored to be far greater than anything the West could have offered, and there were countless ways ladies could amuse themselves in the coastal cities. At the end of the evening, after Arna had shared with them with tales of her previous trips for hours following dinner, Mikel had taken it upon himself to volunteer Signi to travel with them.

It was exciting to finally have occupation after months of self-pity, Signi thought as she prepared for her trip. She had burned Thorin's letter shortly after sharing its contents with Lifa, but in moments of idleness, the words slipped through her mind, renewing again the guilt she felt at her own hurtful response. Thorin was a warrior. The wounds she issued would have long been turned to calluses of stone. But that he should think less of her because of her reckless words, it was more grief than she wished to carry.

A few days before departure, Arna arrived at Signi's home in tears. They were seated in the parlor drinking tea tempered with whisky before she was calm enough to explain her distress.

"I am sorry, Signi dear, but our plans have changed," She said. "Ulfir's traders have all begun traveling to Dale. Apparently the King of Dale has recently expanded his markets. We will travel to there to meet with them. You aren't too disappointed, are you? I hear Dale is quite lovely. And Erebor! I have longed to see Erebor."

Signi took a long sip of her tea as she tried to process this information, wincing when it scalded her throat. She was certainly disappointed that she was missing out on seeing Rhûn and all of its glory, but that was nothing compared to hollow in the pit of her stomach she felt when she thought of the possibility of seeing Thorin again. With any luck, she could avoid such an encounter. But, Mahal help her, if it was not to be avoided…she did not dare to think what his reaction to her would be.

A few days later, as they climbed into her uncle's carriage, Signi had resolved herself to her fate. She would greet Thorin, should their paths cross, as any other subject would. He would not dare reveal the nature of their last correspondence to her aunt and uncle, nor would he dare to openly ignore her in front of the citizens of Erebor. She would endure such a meeting as long as necessary and that would be the end to her acquaintance with the king.

Dale had improved greatly since Signi last saw it, and according to Sigrid, it was all thanks to King Thorin.

"Now that Brasi is gone, Da is more than happy to work with King Thorin. He says that his reasoning skills have increased ten-fold," Sigrid explained as they shared a bottle of wine in the kitchens of the King's House. Arna and Ulfir had opted to take a barge tour of the lake, which had apparently become the latest fad for dwarves passing through Dale. This left Signi's afternoon free to visit her friends in the city.

"Mahal," Signi groaned, taking a long draw of her wine. Conversation to that point had danced around the king, and she wondered how long it would take for Sigrid to bring him up.

"Of course the same cannot be said for his temperament," She continued, hiding a smirk behind her own wineglass. "Somehow his expression is stonier than before, and his conversation is non-existent –"

"Sounds like nothing has changed to me, "Signi said, willing the conversation to end.

"– It's like he misses –"

"I swear on Mahal and Durin both, if you finish that sentence with 'you'"-

"Fili!" Sigrid announced triumphantly. "It's like he misses his nephew, Prince Fili."

Signi covered her face, a string of curses flowing out of her mouth. With each swear, Sigrid's grin grew wider. "Guilty conscience getting to you?" She asked.

And perhaps Sigrid's description of the King's change in demeanor was true, but Signi was in no hurry to find out for herself. Her relatives had other plans. On the fifth day of their stay in Dale, Arna and Ulfir decided that at trip to Erebor was the perfect way to occupy the time. Signi tried her best to convince them to let her stay behind, but her aunt would not consider it.

"Nonsense. There is no matter in Dale more pressing than a trip to see your kin. Besides, we need you to give us a tour of the mountain. It's a pity we won't have the opportunity to meet the King today."

Signi's head popped up, the headache she was feigning forgotten in light of this news. "Is the King not taking visitors?"

"Honestly, Signi. Your head has been full of rocks the last few days. The maid just told us as she was delivering breakfast that King Thorin and King Bard are still on their survey of the borders. They aren't expected to return for a few days."

Signi supposed that Erebor without Thorin could be agreeable and consented to give her aunt a tour as soon as they arrived. The trip to Erebor was relatively painless. Along the way, Signi tried to imagine seeing it anew, imagining how she would react to it if she had first traveled there just over a year before. It was truly a majestic kingdom to behold, even if the outside of the mountain held little adornment. The bridge, the massive front gate, and towering dwarves guarding the entrance were nothing compared to the splendor inside, yet Signi smiled as she heard her aunt and uncle marvel over the impressive scene before them. And as fast as the amusement arose within her, Signi's rebellious thoughts reminded her that this mountain, this kingdom, could have been hers.

Lunch was taken in Lord Gloin's home, where Galen eagerly hosted Signi and her aunt and uncle. It was a fine meal, and Signi was thankful for the opportunity to enquire about her sister, whom she had heard little of since the winter. According the Galen, Elin had come over regularly for tea, but despite being offered rooms with her family, she had chosen instead to take the rooms provided by her host. Otherwise, she was in good health and remained unattached.

Signi hardly knew where to begin with her tour of Erebor. Thinking of her first day in the mountain, she decided to take her aunt and uncle to the Gallery of Kings. The polished golden floor shone brightly, reflecting on Arna and Ulfir's delighted faces as Signi shared the tale of how the molten gold had driven Smaug from mountain. The stone kings watched them as they made their way through the hall, admiring the craftsmanship in each visage.

"Do they not have King Thorin?" Arna asked, staring at the blank pillar at the end of the hall. "Oh I had hoped they would have something to allow me to see him. They say he is quite handsome. Would you agree with that claim?"

Signi turned away from her aunt as heat crept onto her cheeks. "Aye. He is handsome."

A glimmer of light caught Signi's eye. Looking up at the statute of Thror towering above her, she noticed that his hands seemed to be glowing with white light. Taking a step back, she could just see the large stone resting on Thror's palm.

Guards stood a few meters on either side of Thror's figure, and Signi realized that this added security measure could only signify one thing.

"Please, sir," Signi asked the closest guard. "Is that the Arkenstone?"

The guard grunted, annoyed with Signi's disturbance. "Aye, it is the Arkenstone."

"How long has it been here?" When he didn't reply right away, she added," I left Erebor shortly after Durin's Day. It was not here at that time."

The guard sighed. "King Thorin removed the stone a few days after your departure, lass. It was placed in the Gallery of Kings two weeks ago."

Signi thanked the guard for the information. Spinning on her heel, she stomped out of the hall, leaving her aunt and uncle to fend for themselves. Her mind was a flurry of thoughts and emotions, but she could not think with the weighty gaze of the kings upon her.

Thorin had said it was only with her presence in his mind he could take the stone in hand. And yet, it wasn't until she had rejected him and fled back to the Iron Hills that he was able to take the stone out of the treasury. Marriage, he claimed, was the only way that he could put the Arkenstone in its rightful place, yet rejection seemed to do the job just as well.

Outside the gates, Signi could finally breathe. But she did not stop there. Taking her favorite path toward the lake, she continued trying to understand what had changed in her time away. Thorin had insisted that the dwarf kingdoms would only unite under the Arkenstone, but that did not seem to be the case at all. The eastern dwarves she had met were very insistent that they cared little for the riches of Erebor. It was the king and his strength that they sought. But what strength were they referring to? Was it strength in battle? Diplomacy? Was it his ability to fight the madness and to hold the stone? She supposed that if it were truly the stone they sought, it would be better placed on his throne. So why was it placed in the Gallery of Kings.

The symbolism was not lost on Signi. It was Thror who discovered the stone, and it was Thror who wielded its power to unite the kingdoms. By putting it in his grandfather's hands, Thorin was honoring the legacy of Thror while creating his own legacy. Signi had long shared the opinion of many dwarves that Thorin's legacy was created when he took back the kingdom for his people, a feat that no dwarf before him had achieved. But what had finally made him see the sense of it?

The breeze off of the lake cooled Signi's heated skin as she walked along the waters, too deep in thought to notice the figure standing on shore until she was standing before him.

King Thorin, in naught but his trousers and shirt, the fabric clinging to him like second skin, was as surprised by her sudden appearance as she was his. Silence stretch between them, for neither knew how to react to such a meeting. Signi found her gaze struggling to remain on his face, her eyes dropping to the wet tendrils of hair spread across his strong shoulders and chest, the thick muscle of his thigh straining against the fabric, the…no, she could not continue in such a way! Staring at the king is that state was beyond inappropriate, no matter how familiar they had once been.

"Forgive me, Sire," She said, averting her gaze. Mahal, how foolish was she that she believed she could avoid him. And what had he been doing?

"No, Signi, it is I who should ask forgiveness. I had not expected to meet any one on the lake today." His voice was low and entreating, and Signi felt her stomach rise to her throat at the sound of it. Slowly turning to meet his gaze again, she wondered what exactly it was that he was asking forgiveness for. "Let me get my things," he said, watching her as though she might try to run away. "I will walk with you."

Signi nodded quickly, trying desperately to keep her eyes off of him as he put on his boots and gathered his armored tunic and coat. "We had heard that you would be gone for a few days. Mahal, I did not mean intrude –"

"It is no intrusion," he interrupted, peering sideways at her as they walked back to the front gate. In the distance, Signi could see Arna and Ulfir standing outside the entrance.

"Your sister, your family, are they well?"

"Aye, they are quite well. Elin has returned to Erebor."

"Yes, I have seen her on occasion in the great hall. Did you travel again with Lifa?"

Signi bit her lip at the mention of her sister. "No, I traveled with my aunt and uncle. There they are, by the gate."

Thorin's gaze wandered to the figures slowly walking to meet them part way. "I would like to meet them."

When at last they did meet with Arna and Ulfir, Signi could hardly listen to the conversation as she was so taken aback by this transformation in Thorin. Gone was the brooding, sullen king who cast a shadow on polite conversation. Gone was the uncomfortable silences and awkward comments she saw so frequently. Instead, Thorin conversed warmly and kindly with her kin as though they were friends. Her cheeks flushed at the thought of their last meeting. Would her uncle shake the king's hand with such enthusiasm if he had seen the way Thorin had addressed her in front of the library? Would her aunt smile at him kindly if she had heard the words spoken of their family?

"It would be a great honor if you all would join me for dinner." Thorin's words shook Signi out of her reverie. "I often dine with friends. I should like for you to meet them. Signi, is of course, well acquainted with them. I fear they would have my head if I did not insist that she and her family join us."

Ulfir and Arna were naturally delighted with this invitation and accepted right away. Signi did not respond, though she suspected Thorin could interpret her baffled expression well enough.

"I have someone I would very much like you to meet," he said, addressing Signi directly. "My niece, Vara, arrived a few months back. She has been begging to meet you."

Signi's infernal blush renewed, and she wondered if she would spend all of dinner that night red-faced as Dain after a barrel of ale. "Of course," she said. "I would be glad to meet Princess Vara."

Thorin's grin shone beneath his black beard, and once again, Signi found her stomach to be climbing its way to her throat. "Perfect. I will see you all tonight. I hope the rest of your afternoon in Erebor proves to be entertaining."

Arna stood beside Signi as they watched the king walk away. Signi's strength seemed to be wicked away with each step he took. "Mahal, Signi," Arna said lowly to not be heard by her husband. "You said he was handsome, but you didn't prepare me for that."

Had to put the Mr. Darcy and "the shirt" scene in there. Can you imagine Thorin in that scene? Yum ;)