Tauriel came upon the future King of Dale and knew immediately something was amiss.
Bard looked up from the parchment on his makeshift desk in the middle of the half roofless office he'd chosen in the ruins. His eyes had a wild look as they sought hers like a lifeline thrown to a drowning man. "Tauriel," he whimpered. "You must speak sense to them."
She smirked at him, thinking it was yet another attempt from the children to get her to fall hopelessly in love with their father, so she could become their step-mother. The pair of adults quashed the attempts each time they surfaced, but the coming of spring in Dale only made them try harder. "They are your children," Tauriel sighed.
"No, this isn't the children and their incessant matchmaking... this time. I have that well in hand. This is that infernal King."
The smirk became a grin. "To which infernal King do you make reference, my Lord. I can think of three."
"Joke all you want, but do not count me among the number too swiftly, a Coronation is still years away." He lifted the parchment from his desk and offered it to her. "Longer if Thranduil insists on rebuilding the Royal Palace instead of sending his masons to build decent housing for the many families now that the defenses of the city are rebuilt." His eyes searched her face when he mentioned King Thranduil, for he knew well Tauriel's troubles with her King and the reasons behind her banishment, but he was desperate. "You are an Elf. You could speak to the Elvish masons and tell them I don't need a throne room. I need my people to have good sturdy roofs over their heads before the Spring rains start."
Tauriel's eyebrows raised in surprise, and she took a step backward and shook her head. "No. As much as I would like to help in this matter, mellon, I am a painful reminder to Thranduil's stone-masons that Silvan elves do not dare disobey their King's commands, lest they find themselves facing their own banishments."
"Curse the stubborn, vain King and his skewed priorities. Would that I had a dozen just like you, or better yet, a hundred, since he doesn't value you for the tireless, infinitely patient treasure you are. I wouldn't be facing Spring with my sanity intact without your aid, Tauriel." He ran a hand through his dark hair, mussing it irrevocably, but more often than not, it was his normal look. "I hope you know how much I appreciate all you have done and continue to do."
The wood-elf studied the carefully drawn plans for the new palace, tapping her lower lip thoughtfully, "I cannot hope to persuade my brethren to work on the homes first, if the King ordered them to do otherwise. That means we need a way around the King's orders, or to make such a muddle of things he is forced to focus the stone-masons on housing the people before rebuilding the castle you do not want." Tauriel got a small thrill from this idea. In fact, it made her a bit light headed and she sat down hard in the only other chair in the room.
"You like this idea," Bard gave her a puzzled frown. "Your smile just now was both devious and gleeful."
Tauriel shrugged, "It is rare to go up against King Thranduil in a political battle and come out the victor, even in a matter such as this, but you are right, homes must be the priority." She placed the drawings back on the desk and snatched a blank parchment and his quill from the inkwell, scribbling as she thought aloud. "Why don't we let them start the palace, and when the rains come, we move everyone into the main hall to sleep?"
"Oh, have mercy, Tauriel, not that. The smell was too much."
Her smiled widened, "Eldar noses are more sensitive. I would give the stone-masons a week, at the outside, before their whining reaches the ears of the King."
He gaped at her, no doubt thinking of all the nights she watched the children for him. "How could you bear it?"
"I trained myself to breathe selectively."
When the rains came on three weeks later, Bard ordered the families into the newly rebuilt Main Hall just as Tauriel suggested. Four days later, Tauriel and Bard shared a glass of wine to celebrate their victory over King Thranduil after a second stone-mason crew arrived with plans for the building homes for the common people and their families.
"Why are you looking at that parchment like it will bite your hand off?" Tauriel teased Bard.
The future King winced and set the paper down, letting his forehead fall forward to rest on the mess of papers on his desk. "I need to ask you a favor, Tauriel. And it is one I have no right to ask of you, as your friend."
Tauriel smiled at him, thinking of the wonderful King he was going to make with his openness and sincerity. "Mellon, tell me what it is you require and I will make the decision on if it is too much of you to ask or not."
Bard lifted his head. "Balin sent this request from King Dain today. It seems the King feels, in the interest of deepening relations with Erebor... That it would be prudent, and wise, because he is most wise... "
"Stop chewing your words and spit them out already," Tauriel scolded him.
"Dain wants to give you and Bain a tour of Erebor. And he also suggested lessons in Khuzdul, to be taught by Balin."
This was a surprise to Tauriel, because Dwarves weren't known for sharing their tongue with outsiders, not in thousands of years. Unless she counted Kili's words to her on the shore of the Long Lake, before he joined his kin on the boat.
To be asked to study Khuzdul by the King Under The Mountain was an honor. "I will do this, for myself and for you, mellon," Tauriel told him.
"Thank you, Tauriel."
Three days later, Tauriel and Bain entered the Lonely Mountain hand in hand, greeted by Balin and Dwalin, and Dori and Ori and Nori. Their welcome was sincere, and soon Tauriel found herself crossing a long bridge and standing at the foot of King Dain's throne.
It was difficult not to be distracted by the Halls of Erebor, the grandeur matched that of the Elvenking's Halls, and both were underground and craved from the natural stones, if in a strange and beautifully alien way.
Bain's face showed just as much awe and wonder, and they smiled at each other, before offering a formal bows to the King Under The Mountain.
Her heart swelled with pride watching the young Man handle himself with such calm and grace.
In him, Tauriel could see much of his father, but also traits which must have come from his mother, for they were not like his father, at all. The endless, restless energy of Bard had passed over him, and been gifted to his sister, while he did receive his father's deep compassion and humility.
"Welcome Tauriel, lone Elf of Dale. You fought bravely and sacrificed much in defense of the Sons of Durin. You will always be welcome in the Halls of Erebor."
Tauriel was surprised the King knew anything about her, at all. "Your invitation was a great honor, my Lord, and your welcome is kind. I am considered young for my people, and I followed my heart and my conscience without a single thought for consequences. I accepted the censure of my King for acting so rashly."
King Dain laughed, a deep booming laugh, and it echoed in the corners of the Hall. "You must be young, Lass, to see an invitation by a Dwarvish King as an honor."
Tauriel blushed, "I have seen six hundred and seventy seven summers in the Woodland Realm, my Lord, and my King names me a fledgling who has fallen out of his nest."
The King's eyes widened, "Ach, if nearly seven centuries is considered a baby bird, I'd like to know at what age Thranduil would say you're a woman grown."
Tauriel knew this answer, it was something she pondered all winter. "When I have gained wisdom and lost my impulsiveness, no doubt. I am not one to back away from a fight which must be fought, or turn a blind eye to those in need. I fear I may be banished for a very long time."
There was compassion in the King's eyes, which Tauriel was not expecting. "I like you very much, Lass. I hope you will choose to visit from time to time. It is refreshing to converse with an Elf who speaks plainly and doesn't lead an old Dwarf in a complicated verbal dance."
This Tauriel understood, too. "Too much bad blood and suspicion is harbored between my people and yours, and it should never have been allowed to remain for so long unchallenged. Men, Elves and Dwarves fought at the foot of the Lonely Mountain and the cost was high, but we were victorious precisely because of our cooperation."
Dain nodded, "I agree with you on both counts. I did not ask to be made King, nor did Bain's father, but we've been put here for good or for ill and it will make everyone's lives much easier if there is friendship and cooperation between neighbors. I would never have said Thranduil would stand with my people, but your King's army lost as many as we did in defending Erebor from Azog. You will find I repay the debts I owe, Tauriel, and to you much is owed."
His attention turned to Bain, "Forgive us, young Prince Bain. You've been very patient. Welcome to the Halls of Erebor. When I was your age, lad, the first sight of the Halls filled me with the mad desire to race up the nearest set of stairs and see just how high I could get, so I could throw something off and hear it bounce down all the steps."
Bain smiled, nodding, "It is tempting, my Lord. I was disappointed when Father returned from his meeting with you and told me the Dragon-gold in the Main Hall had been cleared away. He made it sound as though there were hills of coins on which we could sled like we do on the winter snow drifts."
Everyone laughed, and Tauriel and Bain exchanged puzzled looks.
"Not to worry, Lad, if its Dragon hoard you wanted to roll around in, I'm sure some small piles of coins might turn up during your tour. What do you think of our home? Do you think those Elvish craftsman rebuilding Dale could make your new home have staircases such as these?"
Bain winced, "I don't want to offend you, my Lord, I would like to have them, but I can only hope they don't make quite so many. It must take hours to find your way back to the beginning if you get lost."
"Aye, that it does, lad, that it does. Stick close to your guides on the tour, try not to wander off and you'll come out fine."
"If I may, my Lord," Tauriel spoke up, "I find Dwarvish designs fascinating. Elven Halls are made to blend in with their surroundings, quiet and subtle. Your Hall is meant to stand out and be noticed. It's almost too much to take in. I could stand here for hours and trace the pathways with my eyes. Has anyone made a count of all those steps?"
"Ye are welcome to try, Lass, but this is only one of the many, many levels." The King dismissed them with a wave of his hand, "Off to the tour with ye, then. We will speak again before the evening meal."
On a lower level, Bain found his mountains of gold. They turned a corner and coins rose up before them, three quarters of the way to the high ceiling of the Hall. Huge piles of the stuff glittering in the torchlight.
Bains eyes grew huge and his mouth fell open in wonder.
Tauriel was rendered speechless, herself. It was the most impressive thing Tauriel had ever seen, but neither of them touched a single coin.
Though they were both poor, with clothing tattered and worn, and eating carefully rationed food traded for with King Thranduil paired with what game the people of Dale killed for themselves at the edges of the forest, the thought of taking some of the treasure for themselves never even entered their minds.
The fact that they touched not a single coin, merely gaped and whispered back and for in wonder, did not go unnoticed by Balin and Dwalin, who nodded and smiled at each other.
The rest of the tour passed quickly, with much good natured teasing and jesting between the pair and the Dwarves. Until, that is, they passed the Hall where the meals where prepared and served. Tauriel lost Bain under a pile of thick sliced meats and a heap of fruit filled pastries. Tauriel was even nagged into taking a plate piled with sliced fruits and cakes and strange, exotic cheeses, before continuing on.
Nori and Dori promised Tauriel they would catch up later back in the Great Hall, once the growing young Man ate his fill.
Tauriel would have stayed with Bain had she known their next stop was the Hall where Thorin and his nephews were laid to rest. She couldn't make her body move a single step into the room, just froze at the door, hands shaking and heart pounding.
Her reaction puzzled the Dwarves.
"I can't," she whispered, pleading with Balin to understand.
"Kili's with Mahal, now, lassie. He'd best not be haunting this Hall. We place the remains of our dead back into the ground to honor Mahal." He took her in hand and walked her past the tombs which held Thorin Oakenshield and Kili's older brother, Fili, to Kili's tomb.
The inscription was in Khuzdul, so she didn't know what it said, but Tauriel traced the letters of the inscription with the tip of her finger. "I'd like to know what this says."
Balin translated it for her, with a patient smile.
"Oh, Kili," the wood-elf sighed, "I am so sorry."
"It wasn't your fault he died, lass."
Tauriel knew otherwise. "You weren't there, Balin. I called on him to help me. Kili came running to save me from Bolg." She looked from Balin to the more serious Dwalin and said, "It is my fault. Bolg was too big, too strong for either of us. He threw me against a wall like I was nothing, and then Kili jumped on his back." She shuddered at the memory of those last desperate moments. "I saw him die. I was paralyzed with fear, and it was all happening so fast... then he was just gone, and everything hurt."
Dwalin did the last thing Tauriel would have expected, he took her hand in his and gave it a sympathetic squeeze. "We watched you save Kili's life more than once, girl. Giant spiders in Mirkwood. A tainted Orc arrow. That reckless boy would never have lived to see the Halls of Erebor had your Elvish magic not cured the poison in his wound. As the King said, we owe you a debt, Tauriel."
"Anything else you'd like me to translate, Tauriel? Something Kili may have said to you... on a beach, perhaps?" Balin asked, eyeing her smugly.
Her eyes widened in surprise, her mouth opened and closed a few times, before Tauriel was able to whisper, "How did you know about that?"
Dwalin beat Balin to the answer, "Fili heard what his brother said to you and had to tell Balin of his brother's audacity straight away."
"Oh."
He added, "A good story is nearly as valuable as gold to Dwarves, and I expect everyone in Erebor has heard the story by now."
Balin nodded, "Amrâlimê means 'my love'. As far as anyone knows, you are the only lass the boy ever gave his heart to."
"We should have known the lad was going to get into trouble back in Rivendell when he got his first look at your kind," the younger Dwarf agreed. "His eyes lit up like he'd stumbled upon a surprise feast day. His mother would have scolded his ear off if she knew his charming, roguish ways cost you your home in Mirkwood."
The mention of Kili's mother tightened Tauriel's chest. "I can't imagine how his mother must feel."
"Lady Dis has lost much. We all have."
"I'm sorry for your loss."
Balin nodded, "And we are sorry for yours. We know what it feels like to be cast out of our homes, Tauriel. If you should ever need a place, Erebor stands open to you. You can stay for as long as you have need. You show courage, loyalty and honor beyond any Elf we have encountered since before the exile." They didn't mean it in an unkind way, but as a compliment to her.
"I wasn't alone, Prince Legolas feels much as I do, and he stood up with me when I challenged the King, and when I went to Ravenhill to help fight the second army of Orcs."
"Having met your King, lass, I have to say you have more courage than common sense."
Tauriel nodded, "I have been given five years of exile in which to gather more common sense, if you know where I might find a Hall here with piles of such just lying around. Still, it is a merciful punishment. The King was never intentionally cruel to any of his Elves."
Balin looked around the Hall at the other tombs, "If it is common sense you seek, it is not to be found in this Hall."
"This is the Hall of Regrets and Rash Actions," Dwalin agreed with his brother.
Bain did indeed find Tauriel in the Main Hall and he had a satchel full of food slung across his chest and a sword belt, complete with a sword, around his thin waist. "Tauriel! The King said I am old enough and tall enough to have a sword. A real Dwarf forged sword!"
The wood-elf winced. "The King Under The Mountain is very generous, but I am not so sure your father will be pleased with such a gift. You will have to convince Bard you are ready for a sword."
"Ach, Prince Bain nearly a Man, Lady Tauriel," the King said. "He helped his father slay the dragon Smaug. Every young Lordling needs to be taught how to defend himself."
"His father may have a different opinion, my Lord, and I am going to stay out of that discussion." She bowed to the King, "You are kind to call me such, my Lord, but I am no Lady, just a common Silvan Elf, born to parents who served in the King's guard."
King Dain grinned at her, "Humble beginnings are something I understand as well as you. I went from a blacksmith to the Lord of the Iron Hills in no time at all, and from there to King Under The Mountain in one bloody awful day. King Bard was a bowman, struggling to feed his kin, fate made him a dragon-slayer and King in a week. The winds of fortune blow hot and cold, Tauriel. I've a few small gifts for you, as well."
Other Dwarves, faces she remembered from their stay in Thranduil's dungeons, came forward and handed her things. In fact, all ten of Thorin's company had a little something for her. The presents ranged from jewelry- huge gemstones set in gold, to knives and hair ornaments, also made of gold and all had the same pattern on them.
It took her a minute to come to the realization that it was a very specific sigil, and that as such it was significant. "This pattern represents Kili, doesn't it?"
"Ay, lass, that it does. When a child of Durin's bloodline is born, the sigil is designed for him or her. Many things are created with the design woven into them." The King's smile faded, "He's no need of gold or trinkets now, but your need is great and Kili'd want you to have his belongings more than any other, because he cared for you enough to speak of you in our own tongue."
A chest was brought forward and the lid opened. For the tenth time that day, it seemed, Tauriel was gaping. "My Lord Dain, I do not..."
The King stood and came down from his Throne. "This is our payment to you, Lady Tauriel." He gestured with a hand to Balin, who pulled a scroll out of his pocket, unrolled it and started to read, "As per the original contract of the Company of Thorin Oakenshield, upon reclamation of the Halls of Erebor..."
"Ach, Balin," the King groused, "the lass many have thousands of years ahead of her to listen to your prattle, but the rest of us are bloody mortal. Kindly just skip to the important parts, so we can start the feast."
"Yes, my Lord," Balin nodded, smiling widely, "You, Tauriel, of the Woodland Realm, and more recently of Dale, are hereby given the Deed to all Properties and Titles which were conferred to Kili, Lord Prince of the Realm of Erebor, and upon his death such Properties and Titles shall be passed to you, and your descendants, for all time."
Tauriel tasted blood where she must have bitten her lip. "What does this mean," the Elf turned a pale, shocked glare on the two smirking Dwarves.
"It means you are indeed, Lady Tauriel here in Erebor, plus wealthy Landowner and Noblewoman of this Court to boot."
"How is that possible? I am not a Dwarf."
The King shrugged, "Because I am King, and I say it is." He grinned at her, "It's good to be King... sometimes. Almost makes up for the times when sitting on that throne gives my arse a cramp." Tauriel was about to object, but Dain cut her off, "Before you go getting your no doubt lovely, Elven knickers in a twist, answer me one question... If Erebor comes under attack from Orcs or Trolls or Warbats or some other bloody bastards bent on our destruction, will ye come to our aid, Tauriel? Or will you turn a deaf ear to us in our hour of need, as King Thranduil once did?"
Tauriel straighten her shoulders and lifted her chin, "I would come, my Lord, anytime you called, and I would fight."
"Even if it meant it was your immortal life at stake?"
"Of course. Without question. I am no better than any other who would die in such a battle."
King Dain nodded, "What say you, Dwarf Lords of Erebor?" He looked around at the other from Thorin's Company. "I know I've heard enough. In five or ten years, I'm sure I'll get around to having Balin write some pretty, formal oath for everyone to take, but for tonight, I say we drink and feast to our newest Lady, and to the young Prince getting his first sword."
The cheers and foot stomping of the Dwarves echoed around the cavernous space, building to a level that left Tauriel's ears ringing for an hour.
Somewhere the Dwarves had obtained a barrel of Dorwinion wine. Tauriel didn't know how she got to a bed, or when, everything about that evening was muddled and blurry. The only thing Tauriel did remember clearly was being handed another cup of wine every time one of the Dwarves' stories about Kili and his brother started to make her tear up, or cry outright.
Apparently, it was very un-Dwarflike to still be shedding tears over a lost love after five months, and they scolded and tutted and shook their heads at her. So on and on the stories, and the goblets of wonderful punishment wine, went until Tauriel could hear about Kili, and speak of him, without it causing her eyes to leak.
Bard was amused, and sympathetic, the next afternoon when she and Bain retired to their rooms clutching their heads and moan pitifully. He let Bain keep his sword, enlisting Tauriel to make wooden practice swords from old scraps and teach him some elementary movements.
She didn't mind.