DWARVES OF OUR LIVES: A HOBBIT'S SOAP OPERA

by LilLolaBlue

This is the shocking tale of sex, sin, and Smaug that Tolkein dared not tell! Belladonna Baggins agreed to be the Burglar for the Company led by the majestic, moody and magnificent Thorin Oakenshield. But, little did Gandalf know that Thorin stole Bella's heart away from his nephew, only to break it! What will the Heirs of Durin do, to win the heart of a Took? Tune in & find out!

6. Robbery and Romance In Rivendell

Chapter Six: Romance and Robbery in Rivendell

(Sorry this one is a bit long, but it has some backstory on Thorin, Dis and her husbands, and also some shocking revelations and dirty bits, so you may find it worth the extra time to get through the chapter)

Thanks to Kili, I did have the most wonderful wedding night, even if it was with a man I had not yet married.

Oh well.

Sing as you go.

Still, it was the night of our formal betrothal, and with the prospect of fiery death in front of us, Kili and I took it as seriously as if we were married.

We took a long, romantic stroll, and sat down on a bench in one of the beautiful gardens we found along the moonlit path.

Kili poured us both a glass of wine, and he looked especially lordly and handsome in the silvery midsummer moonlight.

We sipped our wine, and Kili held my hand, and whispered a verse close against my ear.

"Close your eyes, my lady fair. Think on the ravens, of my hair. And on your lips? My kiss will linger there. Until all time is done. And in my fire, you shall burn. Until by death? You are undone."

That was not one of his father's, but one of his.

Which he wrote for me.

There is something to be said for romance, and I'm not likely to have it from Fili or Thorin.

And when our glasses were dry, he kissed me, so sweetly, and yet with such burning insistent passion that I nearly swooned like a silly tweenager.

We went back to my bedroom, and locked the door, blocked the adjoining passage and put a chair against the doorknob that led to the hallway.

Like the lovers in some winsome poem from the First Age, we slowly undressed each other, and then Kili carried his blushing bride to her marriage bed.

The tale quickly turned to one that was rather less lofty and more lusty; we made love like lions; Kili was like a majestic prince, and a rampant satyr, all at once.

Will you promise not to tell Fili if I confess to you that his brother is a better lover than he is?

For that would just break Fili's heart.

The hour was late when I settled into his arms to drift off to sleep, with each of us declaring our love, and making promises to share what we had of love and life until death parted us.

I would have stayed in bed all morning, but Kili reminded me that we had to go and find his Uncle and his brother, before they got themselves into any more trouble.

"Who cares if they do?"

"You should. For one thing, if Lord Elrond kicks us out before Uncle gets his map translated, then we had all might as well go home. For another, do you really want to leave so soon? It's going to be a hell of a long walk." Kili pointed out.

He was right, of course.

So, it was time to have a bath, brush our teeth, put our regular clothes back on, and find Thorin and Fili, before Elrond's steward, Lindar, did.

Fili was easy enough to find.

He was the original bantam who always came home to roost; we were just finished getting dressed when we heart a faint knock on the door.

"Don't open the door too suddenly, I'm leaning on it!"Fili told us.

He fell into the room when Kili opened the door.

"That's it, that's' the very last time I ever drink so much as a drop of Elvin love potion! My back feels like it's been through Mahal's forge, my legs are rubber, and my head is swimming!"

"If I had a gold piece for every time I heard that, I'd have my own ocean of gold in my back garden! You get his feet, Kili. I'll get his head."

We carried him Fili to his and Kili's room, undressed him, washed him down with hot water and soap, dried him off and loaded him into bed.

He was in and out of consciousness the whole time, but right before we left, he woke up, again.

"Can you ever forgive me, Bella, for having missed our wedding night?" Fili asked me.

"It wasn't our wedding night, Fili. It was your Uncle's and my wedding night. And I know this was your big chance to prove yourself every bit of a Great Besat all on your own." I replied.

Fili smiled, as he closed his eyes.

"The second of my great triumphs, as I make my triumphant march from New Belegost to Erebor! First I laid waste to that orc pack, and now I have laid waste to the good ladies of Rivendell! I'm telling you, Bella, by the time we get to Lonely Mountain, the whole of Middle Earth will know my name!"

"Fili, son of Vargbarand, nephew of Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror. The Wolf of the West." I replied.

"I think I like that."

"You were saying it to the girls, last night. Assuring them that you might as well have been a son of Fenrir, himself."

"Do you think it will stick?"

"If you keep on at this rate, I'm sure it will. Get some sleep. Kili and I have to go find my ornery old wolf of a husband."

---

With Fili safe and sound in his bed, we were off to the dormitory room, to see who had turned up.

We found the night's revelers all in their beds, with Bofur returning with his cousin over his shoulder as we came in.

Balin rebuked him.

"I am surprised at you, Bofur, a married man, with your wife about to give birth to your brother's child!"

"Who me? All I did was play music and sing and drink. I had to keep an eye on cousin Bifur. His brains don't work as well as the rest of him, after all. But she was a nice girl, the one he met. Very keen on him, spoke perfect Khuzdul. Do you think I'd be fool enough to fool around on Dagmar, daughter of Freyr? She would know, the minute she saw me, again!"

Bombur climbed out of his bed, and he and Bofur put Bifur to bed.

But Thorin was nowhere to be found.

Kili and I went back to the Dining Hall, and we also knocked on the door of the servants' quarters, but we got absolutely no answer.

Finally, we returned to my room, only to find water swirling down the bathtub and a trail of Thorin's clothes leading from the bathroom to my bed, where he was asleep.

Kili and I parted, then, so he could look after Fili and I could look after Thorin.

I rolled him over onto his side, so that if he was to become sick in his sleep, he wouldn't choke to death.

I had read about that in a book, you know.

It was getting warm, even in the cool, quiet tower, so I removed the blanket and left Thorin just covered in the sheet.

He didn't so much as stir.

It got me thinking about that fellow in the book, he was a man, not a Dwarf, but he had died after a debauch, just the same way.

Some Earl or Duke or Count of Something-or-Other.

I shook Thorin's shoulder, a little.

"Are you alright, Thorin?" I asked.

"By both me beards, leave me be, girl! I'm desolated!" he snarled.

That satisfied me that my lord and husband was just fine.

It was a sobering thought, that I was Thorin's wife, now, even if it was only in some convoluted way.

I had put my name to that document after negotiating an exit clause, and because it prevented Thorin from leaving Kili and Fili out on the cold, and, most of all, because it recognized any marriage between Kili and I in the Shire as being valid, but I was beginning to have serious doubts.

Thorin's wife.

By all the gods of the Aesir and the Valar, what woman would be so brave and yet so stupid?

She should have been some warrior princess of the Hidden Folk, or of the Sindari, or some Dwarrow Valkyrie, not a little Hobbit, and a Baggins at that.

Then again, I thought, I am also a Took.

I thought on such things, as I hung up Thorin's surcoat, cloak and hood, and put his gambeson and his boots outside on the balcony, to air out.

There would be no airing out his tunic, breeches and loincloth; they needed washing.

I stopped the drain, salvaging half of Thorin's bathwater, and washed his clothes in it,

Then I hung the works up, outside, to dry in the summer sun.

I went into the next room and Kili gave me his Uncle's pack.

Back in my room, I looked through it, and found his change of clothes.

They weren't his "best suit of clothes", but they were clean and dry.

As I was laying Thorin's clothes out over a chair at the table in my room, one of the girls from the night before showed up, with a tray for lunch.

I answered the door, with Thorin's clean breeches and loincloth still over my arm.

She looked at both, and just the sight of them, and of the mount of hair and sheets on my bed that had been Thorin the night before, and turned a deep cherry red.

"You and your friends didn't leave me with much, did you?' I joked.

The Elf began apologizing.

"By the light of the All-Father, do you think I expect anything less than bad behavior from the old whoremaster? I know what he's like, when he gets around nice Elvin girls, like you. True. I'm married to his…better qualities, but count yourself lucky you're not married to his ill-temper and washing and his rheumatic back and knee, and his braids and so on."

She felt a little better, seeing as how I was not mad, but she still left in an embarrassed hurry.

I took the enormous tray out onto the balcony, brewed a pot of tea over the hearth with grandmother Took's remedy for the morning following a late night of drinking and whatnot, and went out onto the balcony to have a nice, leisurely lunch.

I even saved some food for Thorin.

How's that for a good wife?

Well I owed my husband something; after all I had spent our wedding night with his nephew.

I was on my second pipe when Thorin blundered onto the balcony, bleary-eyed, barefoot and bare-chested, all of his hair loose and damp and unruly, squinting in the sun and lacing up his breeches.

"Durin's beard, my head feels as though it has been pounded in the forge of Mahal, himself! What did you go washing all me clothes for, and setting these out, wife?" he grumbled.

So, there was the grand change.

Now I was "wife", and not "girl", or "woman."

I had made Thorin out to be far less of a prize than he was to the poor she-Elf servant on whom he had made such an impression that the sight of his pants made her blush.

But, this morning he was all the much less the handsome, majestic King Under the Mountain, and even all the much less my lusty, sooty, sweaty Dwarrow blacksmith, and all the much more the crabby old man with an ill-temper and a large pile of washing.

Although, I must admit, unlike Fili and Kili, Thorin has do his own washing while we were on the road.

"What a prize you are for a husband, Thorin Oakenshield! Seeing you in that condition at the crack of noon makes me glad I negotiated for that escape clause! You're awfully stroppy for a man who missed his wedding night so he could have an orgy with a score of she-Elves! I was forced to wash your clothes as they stank like cheap scent, sour sweat, pungent old-man spunk and cheaper floozies."

Thorin gave me a suspicious look, and raised an eyebrow at me, archly.

Not many could manage a magisterial air in the shape Thorin was in, but he did.

"Wedding night? What wedding night? We had no ceremony. And if I know you, then I know you had no lack of company!" Thorin grumbled.

Well, I had been willing to be good-natured about the whole matter, but if that was going to be his attitude, we were going get our married life off to a roaring start.

"I'm glad I had a lack of your company, if this is any indication of the way things are going to be! Most men wait a few years after their marriage to let themselves go. Less than a day, and you already look like ten pounds of wargshite sewn into a five pound sack! Husband."

He sat heavily in the vacant chair and I poured him a cup of tea.

"And most women wait at least a week or so before they become nagging harridans!"

"Nagging harridan? You spend the whole night boozing it up and shagging every slag who who you could lay your cock to, you son of an orc's warg, then you drag your old carcass into my room, leave your clothes what smell of she-elf and feet and underarms and ball sweat all over, leave a ring of dirt and a clump of hair the size of a rat in the drain of the tub, and call me a nagging harridan if I don't like it? After I clean up after you and apologise to Lord Elrond for your misbehavior? That's it! Where's my axe!"

I rose from my chair in a fury, and as I passed Thorin, he pulled me into his lap with his left arm, even as he picked up his fork in his right hand.

"Now that's more like it, Bella, my girl! For a moment, I was afraid you were going to start deferring to me wishes and treating me with respect!Durin's beard, I would have burnt our contract!"

I didn't try to get away from him, just yet.

"You might as well. But, then again, why should I be angry with you? I've no reason to. Because I still had a lovely wedding night. Your nephew, Kili, really is a lordly, majestic, handsome young stallion…"

"…Is that all you've got wit to come up with?"

But Thorin had interrupted me.

I wasn't done yet.

"…who has got about an inch on you. In length and girth. Perhaps an inch and a half, even! And Kili has sworn a solemn vow never to touch another woman, as long as I live. He's about a hundred years younger than you, he's got a much better disposition, and he's got no dynastic ambitions or duties to distract him from the life we might build together. Moreover, Kili never acts as though he was my father, and he's an incurable romantic and a gifted poet as well as being a mad, impetuous, reckless warrior prince. I didn't think of you once, and it was his idea, this morning that we should go looking for you. I would rather have left you to be found in the servant's quarters, with your cock hanging out and some she-Elf's drawers draped over your head, by Lord Elrond's steward! Do you want me to go on? Because there's more!"

"Alright, wife, I understand you are aggrieved that I spent my wedding night with…several other women! But my head hurts me too much for me to laugh, and I will, if you try to make me jealous not only of a boy, but my own boy!" Thorin chuckled.

"He was man enough to know where he belonged on his wedding night. Oh, I'm sorry. Kili's wedding night hasn't come, yet. Nor has Fili's. Last night was your wedding night, Thorin Oakenshield, and you missed it!"

"I keep telling you, it was not! We had no ceremony. That will have to wait until I retake the Mountain."

"Then explain why you're calling me 'wife'!"

"Goddamn it, girl, do you want me to fookin' well apologize?" Thorin blustered.

"Yes!" I told him.

"Well, I won't! You got one apology out of me at the riverbank, and that's more than most men have ever had from me, let alone a Hobbit lass! I am the King, and I will do what I like, when I like and with who I like. You certainly do, don't you?" he replied.

That was a little too stroppy for me, and I wiggled out of Thorin's lap.

"Where are you going?" he demanded.

"To go do what I like with who I like! And if you have any spunk left in your ten gallon bollocks, you may go fuck yourself!" I rejoined.

"I think not, Little Miss Bella! Wherever you go, you'll come back to me, my little wife, we both know you will! I'll save it up for you!" Thorin shouted after me.

Laughing at the last.

I left Thorin to his lunch, after which I imagined he would go back to bed, and I decided that rather than sit there and fight with him, or worse, lie down with him without a fight, I would go and do a little exploring on my own.

---

Rivendell was not just a beautiful place, but an awesome one.

I saw the great fresco of the fall of Sauron, and the actual shards of Narsil, before I went outside and followed a path that Kili and I had not been on.

I spent an hour, following it, through beautiful gardens and bowers and benches, past fine buildings and terraces.

It was on one such terrace that I met up with Gandalf and Lord Elrond and Balin.

They were sitting at a white wrought-iron table, on white wrought-iron chairs with green velvet cushions, drinking some cool drink from a glass pitcher in a very civilized fashion.

They were talking about my companions, Thorin, in particular.

Balin and Gandalf were making some very fine excuses for him.

I was about to excuse myself and leave, but Lord Elrond stopped me.

"Stay, Miss Baggins. Please, sit down. It is right that you should hear what Gandalf and I are speaking of."

I sat down, and Gandlaf poured me a glass of whichever.

It tasted of lime, lemon, and faintly of ginger and mint; some kind of Elf lemonade.

It was very good.

"Did Thorin ever…return?" Balin asked, diplomatically.

"Oh yes. And we've just had the first meal and the first fight of our marriage. All in all, everything's going quite well." I replied.

I was smiling about it, but Balin shook his head.

"We were talking about Thorin's past. Of which, knowing him, I'm sure he's been vague about. Particularly about Lady Anorloth of Mirkwood. It's not a pleasant tale. That is why I thought you might not like to hear it." Gandalf said.

"I think she should. She's Thorin's wife. She opught to know why he's become the sort of man he is, when he's at his worst." Balin said

"Actually, I'd like to hear as much as I can about her. I have always wondered how his affair with her was broken, such that he was changed from a devoted, faithful lover to a bitter old whoremaster and heartbreaker! Because this morning I'm inclined to think that I've married the latter and not the former, the son of an orc's warg! All I know is that she is King Thranduil's half-sister, that she and Thorin had a love affair that resulted in his son, Thalin, and that she is lost to him, but Thalin still comes to visit with his Dwarf kin."

"That is all you need to know, Bella Baggins." Gandalf persisted.

"I disagree, Mithrandir. It is possible that, one way or the other, these Dwarves may come to stay in King Thranduil's palace. Or in Laketown. Forewarned is forearmed. Not to mention, Miss Baggins is, for all practical purposes, Thorin Oakenshield's wife. She has a right to know more than he has told her. You must know, young Hobbit, that there are more dangers for you and your company on the other side of Mirkwood forest than the wurm Smaug. Thorin Oakenshield burnt his bridges with the Elves as thoroughly as if he could breathe fire. He and King Thranduil were once the closest and dearest of friends, some say they had even become brothers in blood. But Thorin did not intercede with Thror when he took the jewels belonging to Thranduil's mother, Morgan le Fay. And my kinsman does not and did not view Thorin's doings with his sister has having anything to do with love. Indeed, not only did he not aid the Dwarves in routing the wurm, he cast Anorloth and her son, still only and infant, about a year old, out of Mirkwood. That put Thorin in a hard spot with his father and grandfather, who were as adamant that Thorin should not marry Anorloth as Thranduil was."

Lord Elrond paused, I suppose, to see if I was listening.

But I was hanging on his every word.

All of this was news to me.

"What happened?" I asked.

"What could? Thorin was 24, and Anorloth was only 600, which might as well be 24, to an Elf. A Prince and a Princess, accustomed to a life of privilege and pampering, found themselves alone in the cold cruel world. Your husband by regency was a blacksmith, by trade, and he was lucky enough that the blacksmith of Dale was incinerated by Smaug. Thorin, Anorloth, the infant Thalin, and Dis, who's first loyalty was always with her brother, went along with the tide of the displaced men of Dale. Thorin threw in his lot with them, and helped to build Laketown, of which he became the new blacksmith."

That was all Lord Elrond had to say, but that was not the whole of the tale.

Gandalf had something to add.

"It is not all such a happy tale. When you think of them all living in a tent on the lake shore. Dis was little more than a child, herself, only 15. And she was often charged with taking care of Thalin, for Anorloth was a delicate woman, not suited to a pauper's life. She was often ill, and Thorin worked every day, all day, sometimes for 14, 16, 18 hours. The city had been was built for a year, but Thorin still lived in the refugee camp on the lakeshore. Dis and Anorloth took work doing sewing and mending, But there was never enough money, enough food, and they roasted through summer. Winter was worse, nearly the death of them, but Thror and Thrain were not such hard men as Thranduil; the old king sent his son from the Iron Hills, with a chest of gold, so Thorin could have a house built, and he was to stay close to the Mountain, to wait and watch." Gandalf continued.

Gandalf's story was far more impassioned towards Thorin's plight than Lord Elrond's, but it was Balin, always Thorin's staunchest defender, who was able to tell the tale in such a way that I might have been there, myself.

"And you think that tells Bella the tale, so that she might understand these moods of Thorin's? That is only to scratch the surface of the story, Bella. I was there. I could never forget it. A more heartbreaking sight you had not seen, for we did not know that Thorin dwelt in such poverty. He was too proud to say, but when we received no word from him, Thror sent my brother from the Iron Hills not to visit him, but to go in secret and see how Thorin fared. When Dwalin returned, he told Thrain and Thror and I how Thorin and his sister, and his fragile Elvin wife and small son all lived in a shanty on the lakeshore. We were all of us shocked, thinking that even though he was cold and hard-hearted that Thranduil would have relented, and made some provision that his sister and his infant nephew would not be destitute. As soon as Dwalin told us the peril that Thorin was in, Thror seemed to forget all about the fact that Anorloth was an Elf, and Thalin half an Elf; all the King could think on was that a woman and a child, now kin to him, and his own grandson were in peril of suffering a miserable death. We left at once."

"Did you get there in time? Did Anorloth survive?" I asked.

"I am getting to that. Now, in our party, besides me and Dwalin were Frerin, Thorin's brother, and Thrain, his father. We had also brought Oin, in case his services were needed. Except for Oin, we had all decided to settle in the shadow of the Lonely Mountain, and keep our eye on our lost kingdom, while Thror stayed in the Iron Hills, to try and raise an army. We did not sleep or rest, but rushed to the lakeshore, where those poor souls who were so destitute that they could not even afford to live in makeshift Laketown abided miserably in a city of tents and shanties. Thorin, who was fortunate enough to have work, he was able to afford to build a makeshift one-room shanty, using some materials he had bought and some he had scavenged. The main body was of wood and stone that had floated down the river from the ruins of Dale, roofed with bits of thatch and cracked tile and charred shingle, with a chimney made of pipe sticking out the top. The whole affair was made partly of cheap materials Thorin had bought and things he had scavenged, a jury-rigged crazy house of a shanty, tied together with rope, and wire and whatever he could scavenge, with peat and mud shoved into the larger of the cracks to keep out some of the cold. There wasn't even a door, just a couple of ratty fur blankets, little more than hides, hanging over the entrance."

Balin paused, that Gandalf and Lord Elrond and I might envision the misery of the encampment by the lakeshore in general, and in particular, the squalor in which Thorin, his sister, his common-law wife and his infant son lived.

Princesses and a prince who had grown up in great comfort and splendor.

"Thrain was absolutely horrified. He would not have believed it was his son's dwelling, but there was a wooden sign nailed over the doorway with the words "Thorin the Blacksmith. All Jobs For Hire. Knock Before Entering" Painted on it. Well, Thrain did not bother to knock, he just thrust aside the skins that covered the doorway. Through the thick smoke of the firepit, a hole dug into the earth, shored up somewhat with bricks, you could not see very well. The walls of the shanty were dingy, with soot and cooking grease, but one you peered through the miasma, it was plain to see a Dwarrow girl, dressed in rags, crouched over the firepit, stirring a pot of some thin stew. She had a ratty fur thrown over her shoulders, against the cold. In one corner was a pile of sacks stuffed with hay, and piled with the same furs that covered the door. There was a smaller pile like it, in the opposite corner, but upon the larger makeshift bed, under most of the furs, lay a young woman, covered up to her face, which was pale and sweaty. Beside her, black with soot, dressed in rags, swathed in another of the furs was a young Dwarf, cradling in his arms a thin and quiet infant, tightly swaddled, whom he was feeding from a bottle. At the intrusion, both the Dwarrow girl and the young man reached to their belts for weapons, but as their visitor staggered into their dwelling in shocked disbelief, they both recognized their father."

Balin stopped, and shook his head.

"I will never forget Thrain's face, when he saw his son and daughter in rags, and his grandson such a thin and quiet baby. Quiet because his mother had no milk and lay close to death, with the winter wind rushing through the ragged tent! And Thorin, he had such a terrible hard look to his face; you could see that he thought his kin had forsaken him, too. He was just a boy, only twenty-five years old! When he saw his father and his brother, he wept. Thrain wept, too, and so did I. I think even my fierce brother had tears in his eyes."

Balin spoke with great emotion, as if it had all happened only a few days before, rather than a hundred and seventy five years ago.

"Thrain pulled his son and his daughter and his grandson into his arms, and he swore that he would see them warm and safe, before the night was through. And to show that he would not abandon Anorloth as her kin had, Thrain, himself, carried her to our wagon. She was only a little taller than you, Bella, about four feet and nine, but not so sturdily built. And after such privations and illness, she looked so very fragile, and small."

That description upset me, but Lord Elrond was visibly shaken.

If Thranduil was kin to him, then so was Anorloth.

"By Eru's light, what could so harden the Elvenking's heart? I would not treat one of my serving women with such callousness, let alone my own sister!"

"I do not think his heart was hardened, so much as broken. The effects of both are similarly evil." Gandalf interjected.

"Well, that night, at least, we managed to save her. To save them all. Thrain hired rooms for all of us at the inn in Laketown, which was by no means deluxe, but it was a palace compared to Thorin's shanty. Oin found nothing wrong with him or Dis that food and rest would not cure, and little Thalin had the strength of Durin's folk in him; once he was warm and dry, in clean blankets, laid in the crib that Thrain had brought, he perked right up, cooing and babbling, throwing his empty bottle and reaching his little fists for his proud grandfather's long beard. But Anorloth was quite ill. So ill that Oin feared for her life. He did not tell Thorin, yet that she was close to death; hoping that medicine and the changed circumstances would help her. But we need not have worried. For one thing, and I do not know how he discovered it, her nephew, Legolas came to the inn, bringing Elvin medicine. Quite in secret, and against his father's wishes, but he refused to abandon his aunt to her fate. For another, though, Anorloth was such a small woman, so beautiful and so fragile. But she had strength in her heart that was greater than the brawn of ten Dwarrow warriors. Thorin asked Legolas to take Anorloth back to her brother, to preserve but Anorloth refused to go. She meant to get well, and she did. By the end of the week she was well enough that she might sit by Thalin's crib and rock him, and her milk came back, so that he had no more need of the bottle. Meanwhile, Thrain bought the land that Thorin had his smithy on, and we all set to work, Thorin and Frerin and Dwalin, and even Thrain, himself, building a stone house and a stone smithy. By the end of winter, we were well in, and evil times turned to stable ones. For thirty years, we lived in peace. I had business as a bookkeeper, and a man for drawing up contracts and agreements, and Frerin was also a smith. He and Thorin worked at building up their skills and their business. Dwalin became a constable in Laketown. Dis took to a trade, that of seamstress, and so did Anorloth. They took care of Thalin and kept our home. When he was old enough, Thalin went to school, and he also learned his father's trade, and when he was not travelling in the service of our cause, the townspeople asked Thrain to sit as a magistrate; after all, the men of Laketown reasoned, he was all but a King. Now Frerin became an able enough smith, but Thorin truly has a gift for the work of the forge. He began to travel back and forth from the Iron Hills, where his work was in high demand, always taking his wife and son with him. Thorin could't bear to be away from either of them, not for a day, and, in thirty years, I never even saw him look at another woman. Theirs was a true affair of the heart. Never, in all their time together, did their love or their passion for each other cool, even for a moment. Anorloth and Thalin were Thorin's heart, and her son and husband were Anorloth's. But, then came Thror's army and what we all thought would be a short and victorious war with the Orcs. But it dragged on, in blood and sorrow and ended at Azanulbizar, in death and disaster. And awaiting Thorin in his new home, when he returned from that slaughter? A cruel and monstrous betrayal, of a young man who had already lost so much."

Balin stopped short, after he had spoken his last sentence.

"I beg your pardon, Lord Elrond, to speak so of your kinsman, the Elvenking. But I must say what I feel is true."

"You speak truly, Balin, son of Fundin. It was a cruel and monstrous betrayal." Lord Elrond agreed.

"No less an Heir of Durin than her kinsmen; when her father and brothers marched off to war, so did Dis. Thalin was only 30 years old; Thorin forbid him to go, and someone had to stay with Anorloth. But, deprived of her husband and the rest of her household, Anorloth's heart weakened, and she became ill. Thalin turned to the only member of his mother's race he knew or trusted, Legolas Greenleaf. The Elf Prince had never forsaken his aunt, and he had secretly kept in contact with her, and Thalin. Legolas begged his father to take his half-sister in, and heal her. Thranduil agreed. But he was so shocked by her condition that he would not let her go back to Thorin at the war's end. He said that when Thorin had built New Belegost into something more than a ruin, then, finally, when he had build her a kingdom, he could marry Anorloth. Thorin, though grief-stricken, and shocked, that after 30 years his former friend could spring such a trap was able to see that his beloved was not suited to a life of hardship. He held onto that of his heart and soul that Azanulbizar had not turn from him. For he was a young King with a vision, and a purpose. To build a hime for his people, without the loss of another Dwarrow life. Thorin toiled, ceaselessly, for the next thirty years, to build his halls in the Blue Mountains, New Belegost, from the ruins of the old. For our people, and for his wife and son. His family was gone, all lost but Dis, who had met the sons of Cain in the war, married, and moved to the Iron Hills. Thalin began to divide his time between the Iron Hills, the Blue Mountains and the realm of his uncle, trying desperately to keep his far flung kin united in the hope of reunion. But, alas there was no hope left for his mother and father. Anorloth was strong in her heart, and in her soul, but never a strong woman, in her constitution. She had been ill for a long time. Thalin claims that his mother had not been wholly well since his Uncle took her from Laketown. She pined for her husband, and those she hadcome to think on as her kin. But Anorloth clung to life, still, and held out hope that Thranduil would release her, with the founding of New Belegost. Alas, it was false hope. Thranduil forbade her to marry Thorin, despite his promise. But Anorloth had enough. Though she was broken by this final betrayal, she willed herself the strength to travel with Thalin, to the Blue Mountains, where she and Thorin were married, in his halls, by the rites of our people. So Anorloth became the Lady of New Belegost. She even seemed that she would recover, for a time, so great was her happiness. But Anorloth, who was, after all, a Dark Elf, the grand-daughter of a Dwarrow tinker, was mortal. Her spirit remained strong, but her fragile body had grown too weak to hold it. Almost a year, to the day, after Thorin won his bride, she died."

Balin's voice broke, and he paused for a minute.

Died?

No one had told me that Anorloth was dead.

Certainly no one had told me that she was lost to Thorin, not because she was locked away by the Elvenking, or because of some quarrel with her common-law husband, but because she died, leaving her husband a grief-stricken widower, at the tender age of 84.

Fili, who was still considered by the Company to be a fine, brave, promising lad, a good fighter, hunter and scout who would grow out of much of his youthful roguishness was 82.

To think that at 84, Thorin was already a widower with a son 60 years old, but also the King of Durin's Folk, now scattered to the four winds, and the Lord of New Belegost, the new homeland he had built for them with his own blood and sweat?

It was no wonder that for all his kingly virtue, that Thorin had also become a bitter man, obsessed with vengeance.

When Balin spoke next, of brave Anorloth, there were tears in his voice.

"She was a fine woman, good, and decent, kind and strong in her heart, which was like that of a lion! And when she passed, Thorin was shattered. He died that day, as much as his wife did. All that had been good, and noble, and hopeful in Thorin Oakenshield perished with his wife. When he was a young man, he was very like Kili is, in his temperament and his devotion to his beloved wife. But Azanulbizar changed him somewhat, and Thranduil's betrayal and Anorloth's death finished the job. Thorin's heart hardened into the stone Mahal carved us from. His passion for his wife turned to a blind, indiscriminate lust. When he thought on Erebor, too, greed and lust filled his heart. He sought his kingdom now, only for the sake of vengeance and gold. He could not bear the sight of the Halls he had built; they became as nothing to him. Thorin was obsessed with the idea that he would find, in the wide world, some satisfaction of his lust for vengeance against Smaug, against the orcs, against Thranduil. Some great treasure, just over the next hill, perhaps in the next town, so that he could raise his army to undertake his quest, and have both the restoration of his kingdom, and his revenge. And in his travels, he sought the embraces of some woman, many women, any woman, especially those of the Elves, to satisfy his bottomless lusts, and the enduring pain of his shattered heart. In the long years before Dis returned with her sons, Thorin was a hard, bitter, unpleasant man. He drank heavily, and chased women to the extent that it brought dishonor upon his name. He wandered incessantly, and did little but work and toil, and dwell on his great, poisonous dreams of blood, lust, and vengeance. So it is that as much as Thorin has been a blessing to his fatherless nephews, so they have been to him. Fili and Kili gave him a reason to stay in the kingdom he had worked so hard to build, and his love for them eased the breaking of his heart, greatly. He began to rediscover what was good and noble in himself, for their sake. He began to think of his quest in terms of gaining his throne for his sister sons' future, for our people's greater good, not just for the sake of revenge. He was so young when he was raising Thalin that Thrain was more father to both of them than grandfather to Thalin and father to Thorin. But he was a man grown and a king when his nephews came into his care, and a better father they could not have had. Nor could we have known a better man, or had a better King than Thorin Oakenshield. I do not like the man he became after the death of his wife, and I shudder to think what kind of man my King might have become, without Fili and Kili. But that dark side, black as midnight in the mines of Moria, it has not left Thorin, altogether. Nor will it. Sometimes it rears its ugly head, and ugly it is, indeed. But I do not worry on it, as much as I once did." Balin finished.

"You see, Miss Baggins, the peril that your party faces. Thranduil blames Thorin for his sister's untimely demise; he thinks that the years she spent in Laketown proved to be too much for her. And Thorin blames Thranduil, first for casting her out, then for keeping her prisoner until she pined away and died. In the end, I think is neither of their faults. But Thranduil will not listen to me, and now that I have met Thorin Oakenshield, and come to know his capacity for vengeance, I doubt he could be persuaded of it. The bitterness and hate between Thranduil and Thorin is inestimable. You must all beware that, as you pass through the Elvenking's lands, on your way to the Iron Hills." Lord Elrond finished.

"That is not quite the end of the tale. There is yet a bit more." Balin interrupted.

He smiled at me, and took both my hands in his.

"This is the part that concerns you, Miss Bella. Why I no longer fear for Thorin. He has put his heart and his soul into this quest; he could not have undertaken it, otherwise. But I have told you how his heart was broken, and though it was healed, greatly, by his having a second chance at a family, his suffering over the loss of his wife was never eased. I know him well enough to know the difference in him. But, after one short journey, a Thorin I had not known for over a hundred years returned to New Belegost. The Thorin Oakenshield who put aside many lucrative commissions to make an axe and mail shirt out of work he had done a century ago, the Thorin who took a week's journey just to deliver it to the Tookish lass who commissioned it; that was the young man I knew whom I could call King. Thorin is a whole man, again, a man who can be a King, in large part because of you, Bella Baggins. Love has inspired many men of many races to do great things. And you have restored Thorin's heart to him. The desire for vengeance and gold would never have been enough to inspire him to undertake this quest. He undertakes this task for the love of his people, for his fallen grandfather, for his nephews, and for the love of his brave little fatherless Bella, who, as long as he lives, will never have to face the cold world alone, again." Balin added.

"I could not agree with you more, Balin. But you sound like a man who is about to make a point." Gandalf suggested.

"Try not to judge Thorin too harshly, lassie. He canna help but be the kind of man he is, sometimes. But for you, he would try to be more of the man he wants to be." Balin finished.

Suddenly, it made all the sense to me in the world what made Thorin the way he was.

And why he was so determined to hold onto his hale, hearty and sturdy little Hobbit wife.

"I wish someone would have told me about all this, before! But at least I know, now. Well, I'd like to drnk Elvin lemonade and tell stories and enjoy the sunshine all day, but had better go and see if Thorin is awake and his clothes are dry, yet. After all, for good or ill, I'm his wife, aren't I?"

---

When I returned to my room, Thorin was just getting out of bed, his head most likely still full of the cobwebs and fuzz of the night before.

Before he could say anything to me, I slammed the door shut, ran to him, and hugged him as hard as I could.

I knocked Thorin off balance, and we both fell back into bed.

"Mahal's hammer, Bella, you have changed your tune! I was in no hurry to get up and face this day, anyway. And even if I won't aplogise to you, my little wife, I will make it up to you that I've been such a bastard."

That was when he noticed I was crying.

"What? Tears? What are you crying over? Has one of these bastard Elves insulted you? Or assaulted you? The son of an orc's warg will taste my fist, before he tastes my steel!"

One thing about Thorin Oakenshield, it doesn't take him very long to fly into a rage.

"It's not that, Thorin. I'm crying because I heard a terrible story. One I'm not surprised you never had the heart to tell me. I have heard from Gandalf and Lord Elrond, and Balin about the tragedies of your past, and the many wrongs your former friend the Elvenking has done you. I am sorry, husband, for some of the terrible things I have said to you in the past. Had I known your old heart became so hard because it had been shattered, I would never have been so cruel. I feel as though I understand you better, now, Thorin. And I regret that I ever held trifling things against you."

Thorin got a very faraway look on his face.

A sad, faraway look.

He laid his head back, among the pillows, and I lay down beside him, and hugged him with all my might.

"The wrongs I have done you are not trifling, my girl. And you have never been cruel to me. Your love is precious to me, Bella, more precious than it can be to Fili, or even Kili, because I need it more. And knowing that, I still canna manage to act like a man who prizes his woman above, well, above most things. Sometimes I wish I had met you when I was a younger man. I want to be the husband to you I was to Anorloth. But I cannot be that boy again."

"I have two boys on my dance card, Thorin. That's more than enough. I can think of many reasons why I am glad you are a man. And as for your latest woeful act of miserable bastardy, last night, Lord Elrond was a little, erm, distressed, at your, erm, display of high spirits. And Kili explained to him that it's not that you're just some old degenerate. He said that every time you meet a she-Elf, you see Anorloth. Especially if you've had a few drinks. That they are all Anorloth to you. But then, in the morning, when you're sober, in the cold light of day, you realize that they are not her, that no one will ever be her, and you're embarrassed with yourself. I never thought of it that way, but I can see where he was right. Not to mention, I spoke to the cook's wife, while I was hanging around the kitchen, looking for a snack, and she told me that she saw the serving girls putting strong love potions in the wine. Then you drank that whole vial of the stuff. She's going to keep an eye on them, from now on. And she's told Lord Elrond it really wasn't our lot's fault."

"That's a fine excuse my nephew thought up for me. And you're a fine girl to take it for the truth. They were dark years, before Dis brought Kili and Fili home for me to raise, and after my wife died. I threw myself into the rebuilding of New Belegost, with two hands and two feet, and to my trade, because I spent all of my idle hours in a drunken rage of fury and lust. I walked or rode or drove my wagon ten thousand miles, maybe a hundred, drained a thousand barrels of wine and ale and whiskey, and I had a thousand women if I had one. I don't like to think what would have become of me, if I did not have the lads to raise. A man my age is usually bent and grey and bowed; but the Heirs of Durin; we live a long time. Long enough for me to've cultivated some bad habits not fit for a married man. I'll have to learn to I'll break them. It may take a few years for me to get used to bein' a married man, again, but I can promise you this, Bella, I won't make a fool of you again the way I did last night."

"I won't get too mad at you if you do, Thorin. At least I know now that you're going to try and clean up your act."

"That's what your mother said to me, when I went to her, and asked her to put in a good word with you. There I was, on the doorstep of a Took, me, the Lord of New Belegost, King Under the Mountain, with me hood in me hand. She knew she had me, and she gave me a piece of her mind. Whoremaster and heartbreaker were just the beginning. You're going to have to clean up your act, Master Blacksmith, if you want to marry my daughter. That was the least of what she told me. But I didn't say shite on me own behalf, because I deserved it. But she asked me, well, why does a Dwarven King want to marry a commoner, and a Hobbit at that. You know what I told her?"

"No. But I'll bet it made her laugh."

"It did. And I'll tell you, too, Bella. You see, I am no longer a pampered prince whose powdered arse sits on a puffy pillow, and I have long been, as I was once called, Thorin the Blacksmith. I've been a commoner, meself, seven times longer than I was a prince, and if I met a princess, let alone married her, I wouldn't know what to do with the silly girl. I learned, the hard way, that my wife must be a strong woman, who can take the hard times and the rough roads and the bitter days that I must endure, and endure them with me, until we can turn them better. And when you walked into my smithy, Bella, I thought that you were the lass who was up to the job. Then when I came to know you, and the hard work that's been put on you, and the bitter draughts you've had to drink, I knew I was right. We've both been too young to lose so much, and in each other, we've found much of what it was we lost. And that's got to be as precious to me as it is to you. I don't know if that's what's meant by love, but if it isn't, then it's better yet. That's not much to say to you, considering one of my nephews is a poet and the other a silver-tongued pervert, like his father. But it has the advantage of being the truth. Which Kili is too young to understand, and Fili is too much of a teller of tall tales to know."

"That's one of your best qualifies, Thorin. When you speak your mind, you do it in plain words that make sense. I never have to wonder what on Earth you're on about. Maybe in thirty years, my fiancés will understand as how love is made up of having the strong stuff to weather hard times, rough roads, and bitter days. Until then, I am glad to have such a sensible man, to call my husband."

"And I am glad to have for my wife a Hobbit with the head of a Baggins, but the heart and soul of a Took." Thorin replied.

"And I wouldn't worry about Fili. Not when you are a mithril-tongued bastard?"

"The last thing I worry about when it comes to you, girl, is Fili and Kili. Unless I worry about the effectiveness of that tea you drink, and the mischief they could do you."

He reached over to the table by the bed, for his comb.

"But still, wife? Me braids need doing." He said.

"I'll bet they do, the amount of Elvin love potion still sizzling through your veins." I chuckled.

We sat up, Thorin pulled me into his lap, the way he had at the riverbank, and I started combing out his hair.

But he didn't seem to be in as amorous of a mood.

"Perhaps Gandalf was right to lead us here. Mahal only knows I've not had a proper meal in months. Or a decent night's sleep. I could use a few more nights of both. Before I go back to roaming about the fookin' world, with you lot, in me best suit of clothes, no less. They'll be rags before I get to the Mountain!"

That wasn't what I thought, or hoped, would be on Thorin's mind.

"You and your best suit of clothes! Do you think the dragon will be impressed? You've not impressed me, yet, and we've been here, in this room of mine, almost two days!"

"If I want to impress the fookin' worm, I'll show him me cock! Ouch! Durin's beard, girl, comb my hair, don't tear it out by the bloody roots! So, now you're in a hurry, are you? I ought to make you wait like I have! Throwing me a moment of your favor on that riverbank like it was the biggest favor any woman ever did any man, and I could go and see to myself the rest of the time, thank you very much! How could you do it to me? I'm not a young man anymore, am I? And having a young girl like you teasing me and taunting me, all these months of walking and managing this lot, that could kill an old man, you know?"

"You don't look a bit dead to me." I replied.

"I might as well be the way you take on! Leavin' me thinkin' on those nephews of mine, havin' you arse over teacups in some patch of poison ivy, and that Fili, firin' off his cannon in you, any which way, gettin' you big with child? And Kili giving me that blank look he does, like I'm supposed to fix all his mistakes for him. How am I meant to fix that one?"

"That's taken care of. I'm still drinking grandmother's tea."

"With whatever root that is in it that lets the likes of those reckless lads to root around in you without consequence."

"The likes of you too, Thorin."

"Not me, wife! I'm not one to trust anyone's grandmother's tea. I haven't come my lot in a woman in a hundred and sixty five years."

"I know! I don't mind you gettin' it on me, maybe I even like it, but at home, I was forever having to wash and change the sheets!"

That was when neither of us could hold our laughter in.

"We'll let the Elves change these sheets. Although for this lot of eunuchs without one hair on their faces or their little bollocks the size of doll's eyes, I doubt any of the washerwomen will know what it is that's got on the sheets, my little Bella! I hope Grandmother Took was the best hedge witch in Arnor if you're going to trust me nephews!" Thorin finished.

Thus combed and braided and so on, Thorin deposited me back on the bed, got up, casually unwound his loincloth, and looked into my pack, for a piece of jerky.

After he ate it and decided I hadn't anything else he wanted to steal, he strutted back over to the bed.

Naturally, he had to stand over me, so I could look up at him and see how majestic he was.

And you can bet I was looking.

Well, as majestic as you think Thorin is in his kit, you should see him without it.

There is one I could call King, indeed.

"Look what I been carrying around for you for three months, wife! It's gettin' so I can't hardly walk! And you try and ride a horse with this sticking out from between your legs. It dinna feel too good, I can tell you!"

Now, you may not think that Thorin, stark-naked in the midsummer sunlight, coming in through the gossamer bed-curtains, accusingly wagging his stiff cock at me is romantic, but that's only because you've not seen it.

If you had seen it, well, I'm sure some of you have looked at his hands and imagined it, but trust me, your imagination isn't big enough.

And you've not had him.

Of course considering how many women he's had, maybe you have.

Well, it was romantic enough for a little Hobbit like me.

"Well, husband-of-sorts, get in the bed and bring it a little closer to me. It's our wedding morning, yet, and I promise, you'll feel good."

Thorin lay down beside me in the big bed, and he took me in his arms, and when he held me hard against his broad and hairy chest, it made me wish two things.

That I would never pass another summer, without him.

And that I had never known him, at all.

"I love you, Bella. As I've never loved any woman since I was a boy. You've given me something more than your love, my girl. I had not known hope since the death of the wife of me youth. But now that I have you, I have hope, again."

"You know you have my love, Thorin. And my forgiveness. I will do all I can, to trust you, again."

Thorin laughed, just a little.

"I want your trust, and I'm glad of your love and your forgiveness, wife. So I'll tell you the truth. Now that I have your love, I'd rather have your body than trust and forgiveness, both! I burn for you, girl! And you burn for me. I know that fire still burns in your belly, I put it there, meself, and stoked the hot coals of it down by that riverbank, didn't I? Well, by Mahal who made me, I'll get them roaring, this day, such that you won't say no to me, again, even if it's to be knees up morning and night, until the worm Smaug is dead and I've had you on top of him and the treasure of my people! If you think you've had it before, my girl, the fook you have! I'll show you what it means, to have the love of a man like me! It's night somewhere in Middle Earth, Bella Baggins, and your wedding night starts right now, my wee wife!"

Oh, that was a threat, alright, and by Thorin's gods and yours, and mine, and everybody's else's, did he carry it out!

And it wasn't as if I had no part in it, though.

I made the old bear scream for his gods a few times if I did, once.

I can't say too much about gentle, I don't know if you can do it, gentle, and not fall asleep.

But we had passionate, going, that was for sure.

They probably heard the racket all over Rivendell, and the only reason no one went to investigate is because is because the way Thorin and I went at it, hammer and tongs, every which way he knew of to do it, which is a lot of which ways, they all probably thought there were some bears getting down to business in the woods, and it would be a good idea not to bother them.

And if the bears could have seen us at it, I'll bet they sat down and watched and shook their heads in wonderment and the ferocious animal joy of it.

Some said that Thorin was just a common Dwarrow blacksmith, not the king of anything but his own mad ambitions and pipedreams, but I am his wife, you have it on my authority.

Thorin Oakenshield is the King, indeed!

---

I was contemplative, for the rest of the day, after Thorin left on his less than mysterious errand, with his map and key, thinking on the tragic story I had just heard.

It made me realize how different Hobbits were from the other races, and just how much that could be a good thing.

I thought of the story I'd heard, in terms of the Shire.

My Uncle, Goradoc Brandybuck, the Master of Buckland, was very good friends with Marvolo Bracegirdle, the Mayor of Michael Delving.

Uncle Gordie would have been upset if Mayor Marvolo had an affair with one of his sisters, especially if that affair resulted in a bouncing baby Bracegirdle.

They may have had some angry words, and possibly even a little shoving, maybe even a bit if a punch-up, but had the Mayor apologized, and professed his love for the sister or daughter, and promised marriage, Uncle Gordie would have forgiven his friend, and they would have started planning a wedding and a christening, and that would have been the end of it.

And certainly, if cousin Lobelia had stolen my mother's silverware and refused to give it back to me, and I heard there was a bear in her Hobbit hole, or that it was on fire, I would not have hesitated to alert the fire brigade, or to storm the premises with every Gamgee I could rouse from his bed, and my axe, to kill the bear and save her.

And if her house was burnt, I would not have a second thought about letting her and her husband and her son stay at Bag End.

I wouldn't have liked it, and I may have rebuilt her Hobbit hole with my own money and my own hands if I had to, but I never would have turned her away.

No Hobbit would turn his back on his kin or his friends, over a pile of jewelry or an embarrassing affair, and no Hobbit would see his sister and his nephew and his friend and theirs as paupers, because of his foolish pride.

The Elves and the Dwarves, they said we were simple folk, but if this was what it meant to be some high and lofty race, I was glad to be a simple Hobbit.

Keeping that in mind, that night, I went looking for Coruadan.

To tell him to get his arse in the wind, before he lost it.

I asked the servant who brought me my dinner in my room; she knew where his rooms were.

And knowing how he was always up against it, I made him a package with some jerky and a pair of hose and a little money, and went to his rooms.

When he let me in, he was packing up his things in a hurry.

I was glad he wasn't still putting on airs, for it was when he was at his most roguish and lest lordly that I liked him best.

"Not so high and mighty now, are you, Coru?" I asked.

"By the gods, Bella, what are you doing here?"

"I came to warn you to clear out of here in a hurry! Because I know Thorin Oakenshield, and he'll cut your head off with or without your Uncle's permission."

"I know it! And I'm going as fast as I can! I'm begging you, don't cry out against me! These Dwarves of yours, they mean to have my head, and I've made such a bad name for myself and for the Elves of Rivendell that Elrond means to give it to them! Do you know I'm kin to him? My mother was a mortal woman, and I am a bastard son of his brother Elros, but I'm still his kin! And he'd give my head on a silver platter to Dwarves? I admit it, Bella, I'm a bad sort. A liar, and a cheat, and a conniver, but how else does a bastard make his way in the world?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?" I asked

"Bella, you have to believe me! I wanted to be the Elf I told you I was. By my father, gone these many years to Valinor, I did! But I know I'm not. And I never could be. Not if I lived for another age. So I took the money and I ran. And you thrashed me in the street and got back what I owed you, so we're even? Do you need to have my head, too?"

"We are not even! Although, I have to admit, I don't want to see you dead. "

"Not even? Well I've had a windfall. Trolls are terrible at cards. And you can convince them of anything. What do you want? Gold coins? Silver? Jewels? Weapons?"

Then he had himself a much better idea.

"Is it me you want?"

"Don't put yourself out." I snorted.

"Well, I'm not as cold as you think! I can explain that, too."

"You took a temporary vow of celibacy?"

"No. I had the pox. Not many healers can cure the pox. My uncle's foster son, Estel, he's not much older than you are, but he's a gifted healer. I'm cured, now."

"My mother is a gifted healer. She has the cure for the pox. And I know all of her cures and potions. And remedies. You might have told me. I could have had you cured in a week or three." I replied.

Coruadan looked genuinely disappointed.

"You would not have been angry?"

"Only if you had you given it to me! You ought not to be so careless, when it is your people who invented the sheath! Take your money and buy one. Buy two. And if you mean to make your living on your back, wear them both!"

"So, that's my payment, for being a liar!"

"What?"

"A winter between cold sheets, living under the roof of a hot-blooded Hobbit harlot, like you! Get under my blankets, Bella, darling. I'll pay you back with interest!"

Coru wasn't asking me.

He was telling me, because he threw himself onto his bed and me with him.

"Which of the infamous book of the Twelve Nights of the Sindari did you like best, Bella? I know them all, and every trick in them. And not just to save my neck. You can't know what Elf women are like, they're cold as death and they have the bodies of boys. Not like you. By the gods, a woman who whores herself for Dwarves, so hot is her blood! I know your Dwarf-swains told you that all Elves are cold. But, tell me, do I feel cold to you, Bella..."

Coraudan didn't feel cold at all, his hands were hot, his lips were hot and what you could politely call his loins that he was pressing against my belly were hot as fire.

"Coru, no! Are you crazy?"

"You're right, Bella. I'll have to catch up to you, later. You dropped your package."

"Your package, Coru. A little money, something to eat along the way, and that last pair of hose I made for you. We passed a town a day before we were set on by orcs. Just stay at the inn, there, for a few weeks, and then come straight back here, and stay in Rivendell, until you are sure that we are far and long gone."

Coru got a hangdog look on his face.

"Why would you help me?"

"Because I have a soft spot for rogues and scoundrels and bastards. I've married Thorin Oakenshield, haven't I?"

"What about a kiss for luck?"

"Not on your life. I'm not made of stone, am I? Now, wait until the dead of night to go, and don't look back."

He wanted a kiss, but he had to settle for a hug and a handshake.

I felt better about it, parting with Coru as friends, then I would have as enemies.

Especially if I was going to my death.

---

When I got back to my rooms, I was still in a contemplative mood, but I had only another hour or so to think deeply, as Thorin burst in, waving his father's map and key, singing in Khuzdul and fairly dancing around the room.

He picked me up and tossed me in the air, and when he caught me, he spun me around until I was dizzy, and then he kissed the lips right off of my head.

Laughing all the way.

I hadn't seen him so merry in all the time we'd been on his quest.

"The secret door, my little wife? It's to be opened by the last light of summer, on Durin's Day! And I have the key! And you are so small and so fleet of furry feet that Smaug will never even sniff you! By my beard, Bella, this is going to work! After all these years, we are finally going home!"

"Of course you are, Thorin. I never doubted you for a minute. Do you think I would have married a fool?" I agreed.

"Well I'll tell you this, you won't be married to a dead common blacksmith for much longer! How's your memory of this afternoon, Little Miss Bella?" Thorin asked me.

He had a greedy, wicked, hungry look on his face.

As if his conquests and triumphs of the evening were not yet finished.

And I got a funny feeling, there in that firey part of my belly.

"Vivid. It was an afternoon I shouldn't forget even if I lived as long as the Old Took."

"Well, we should hope that these Elves make their bed-frames and mattresses of strong stuff, because I am about to make you forget it! I need no map to your secret lock, my little Bella, and my key knows its own way, with no light at all!"

Thorin put me down on the bed, kicked his boots into the corner and managed to pull all of his clothes but his breeches over his head in a lump, which he cast aside.

And there I was in my drawers, because I had been getting ready to go to bed for the night.

He growled a laugh at his own joke, pushed my thighs open with his knees, and knelt over me as he unlaced his breeches and pushed his loincloth aside.

I made myself useful taking one off and pushing the others down so he could cast them aide, too.

Thorin pulled me up to meet him, and gave me a scorching, fire-breathing kisstaht made me feel as though I could live three hundred years.

He pulled my earlobe gently between my teeth and whispered in my ear, in a deep, low growl.

"This night, my little Tookish faery queen, your treasure that I might unlock means more to me than an ocean of riches. I could not lust for blood or gold or vengeance more than I lust for your lovely, creamy, round, smooth little body and your sweet, hot little cunny that swinks for no man as it does for me."

And none of Fili's dirty words were as dirty as that.

And none of Kili's sweet words were so sweet.

Thorin slid his hand between our bodies, and leisurely undid the ribbons on my drawers, running his fingers up my leg and inside of my thigh, until he found that little button I was looking for him to find.

I couldn't catch the moan that came out of my throat, especially when he found it, and lost it, again.

Purposely.

This was the part where I was to pay the Devil his due, for having been so stroppy with Thorin for much of our trip.

He had promised he'd make me squirm fort it, and now he was going to.

"Tell me, Bella my girl, who am I? Who will I always be?" he purred into my ear.

Like a large lazy lion who had all the long day for his captive prey.

Found it, again.

"You are my lord and husband!" I squealed.

"Very good, my wee wife. Do you remember when I told you that I had made you mine, and you would stay that way, and when I wanted you to, you'd come running back to me?"

"Yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes!" I panted.

I put my hand around the blacksmith's hammer, and tried to urge him unto the forge, but he wasn't done with me, yet, now sliding my drawers out from under me, with one hand.

The other was still busy, whipping me into a frenzy of wanting and needing.

"Have you?"

"I have!"

"And you won't be a bad little wife, and boot me out from under your blankets again, will you?"

"No! No! Never! Never again!" I promised.

"Good."

Thorin gave me another fire breathing kiss and pressed me down into the pillows.

And when he also gave me what he had made me so desperately need, I screamed like I was being burnt alive.

I was, but in the best possible way.

Thorin let out a long, low, growling moan, thick with lust and satisfaction.

He laughed, thickly, next to my ear and rumbled one more word in it.

"Mine."

Thorin got on with making me forget the afternoon, and anything else I had ever known or suspected, other than the fact that I was his, and that he was my lord and husband, and all that I could ever need, well he knew what it was, and he would give it to me.

It was dirty pool, and no doubt, the way he got those promises out of me, but I would have thirty years, at least, to get him back for it.

It was quite some wedding night, even if it was the night after.

But, who's counting?

---

The next day, to be quite honest, I did a lot of sleeping.

But on the day after, I decided to take the opportunity, as I would during the balance of the days we stayed in Rivendell, to practice my burglaring.

I didn't steal anything, but I did practice being stealthy and hidden and secret.

Well, I take that back, because did steal some things, even if I did not mean to.

Secrets.

I overheard Elrond's steward, Lindar, telling him that the "invasion" of Dwarves was more than the wine cellar, the women, and the plumbing could manage.

On another day, walking in another direction when I came upon Bifur and the she-Elf who knew Khuzdul, while he was promising her that if she waited for him, he would return for her.

That's none of my business.

Nor was it any of my business that Elrond's ward, Estel, was hopelessly in love with his daughter, Arwen, and she with him.

But it wasn't just secrets of the heart which I bowed out of that I was party to.

I stood witness to Fili, having a serious discussion with Lord Elrond, about his father.

As a librarian and historian, let me give you a little bit of background on Vargbrand and Lothinwaen, the sons of Cain, Princes of the Iron Hills.

Yes, I promise it's not boring.

Fili and Kili were the sons of two Dwarven brothers who were both famous and infamous, Vargbrand and Lothinwaen of the Iron Hills, the sons of Cain, brother of Nain, who was at the time, King of the Iron Hills.

And most Dwarrows will tell you that it was never the best idea for Thorin's sister to marry the sons of Cain.

The Heirs of Durin are known for having hot blood and fiery tempers, and Vargbrand, son of Cain was well known as "the Great Beast" when he married Dis, daughter of Thrain, daughter of Thror.

It did, however, seem like a fine idea, at the time.

Vargbrand was considered, in his youth, to be one of the handsomest men in Middle Earth, of any race.

Women fell in hordes to his charms, and he was said to be one of the great lovers of the ages, hung like a stallion with the stamina of a raging bull, and more expert in the art of love than the oldest Elf in Middle Earth could hope to be.

This square-jawed Dwarven Apollo was blue-eyed, blond, burly and bonny, standing almost five foot four, and he was dashing Captain-General of the army of the Iron Hills, famous for his victories over the orc and goblin hordes of the North, which were so crushing to the Enemy that they truly feared him, calling him the Great Beast.

Vargbrand was a military genius; he is still widely spoken of, openly by Men and Dwarves and begrudgingly by Elves as one of the greatest generals of the Third Age.

In his time, he was regarded as a great hero by Dwarves and Men alike.

Who better then, but this stalwart hero, this handsome prince, to marry the Princess of Erebor?

Well, there was always his fair-skinned, raven-haired, mahogany-eyed younger brother, the moody, mercurial and magnificent warrior-poet Lothinwaen, of whom it was said he was the finest bowman in Middle Earth.

Lothinwaen produced his first epic poem at 13, fought his first battle at 14, under the command of his 24 year old brother, and by the time he was thirty was renowned for his literary works and his military prowess as his brother's chief lieutenant.

Lothinwaen was an incurable romantic, who had been wildly in love with Dis since meeting her under the Lonely Mountain when they were little more than children, and one of his most famous works, The Queen of Light and Shadow, and epic poem set in the First Age of Middle Earth, written by Lothinwaen in Westron, Quenya, Sindarin and Khuzdul, was inspired by Dis.

He was 24 when that work was published, and it was widely read by all races in all languages; it made Lothinwaen so famous that if he went to great cities in public that women of all races would mob him in the streets.

In the Shire, we were taught both The Saga of Durin the Deathless and The Twilight of the Aesir, at school both of which were the work of the great poet Lothinwaen.

And every mother and wife in Middle Earth threw away a copy of The 12 Nights, Lothinwaen's adaptation in verse, in both Westron and Khuzdul, of the infamous 12 Nights of the Sindari, the smutty epic of Maeluiadan and Maeluiadaneth.

In Lothinwaen's version, which is an actual story rather than a series of clumsily linked dirty bits, the forbidden lovers are brother and sister by marriage, running away from the debauched court of their fat, libertine evil stepfather and his disgusting retinue of polymorphous perverts.

They are responsible for the most comically awful and perverse pornography ever written, whereas all the bits that get you all hot and bothered without making you want to laugh out of one side of your mouth and throw up out of the other come from our lovers' story.

It has a happy ending in which the forbidden lovers live happily and hornily ever after and the evil stepfather and his gang of sex maniacs each meet a different horrible end, hoist by the petard of their own perversity.

Maybe you don't read The 12 Nights in school, but everybody has read it, and people who can't read buy it just to look at the pictures.

Anyway, why then, would Thorin Oakenshield caution his sister on the eve of her journey to the Iron Hills that she should call off the wedding, to two such accomplished brothers.

Well, the sons of Cain had some rather nasty skeletons clanking around in their mithril-plated closet.

The orcs called Vargbrand "the Great Beast" because his cruelty to the Enemy was voluptuous; the only thing that he enjoyed more than killing them was inventing new tortures to give them pain and terror.

Dashing Vargbrand was also a moody, foul-tempered afficianado of expensive Elvin absinthe, an inveterate satyr whose desires to ravish beautiful men were nearly equal to his appetite for beautiful women.

He had an entire secret life devoted to the forbidden texts of ancient Dwarrow magic, written in runes on stone tablets in Old Khuzdul; Vargbrand was, reputedly an alchemist and a sorcerer, who used pure Sindari absinthe and sexual excess not as a casual intoxicant, but to aid him in his quest to see and know that which could only be seen and known by the Maiar, the Valar, and the Aesir.

Vargbrand had little feeling for any of his lovers, except for the princess he married and the great, enduring and tragic love of his life.

His brother, Lothinwaen.

Whom he seduced, when Lothinwaen was 15, and Vargbrand was 30.

Even if the younger brother was willing, which by all accounts, he was, that doesn't exactly sound like seduction to me.

It's little wonder that some referred to Vargbrand as the wickedest man in the world.

As for Lothinwaen, his brother was the single most important being in his life, holding the place of brother, lover, and dearest friend.

Lothinwaen devoted himself to the two great loves of his life, Dis and Vargbrand, and he suffered the most when Vargbrand was great and beastly, so, by the time he was in his twenties he was already a drunk of epic proportions.

They say that after the sons of Cain married Dis, the wedding night lasted for a month and the honeymoon for ten years.

They must have had quite a disorderly house, the poet, the debauched mystic, and the last daughter of Erebor, and it may have stood the test if the long lifetimes of Dwarves if sons hadn't been born to it.

Ten years after Fili's birth, Dis was fleeing with her two sons back to the Blue Mountains, in the wake of a murder and suicide that left her without either of her husbands.

Who, you guessed it, supposedly crawled to each other as they were dying, made their peace with their last breaths, and died in each others' arms, brothers to the very end of all things.

Kili didn't remember much more of his father and his Uncle than voices and shadows and a few outstanding moments, but Fili was ten when he left the Iron Hills, he remembered his father and his Uncle quite well.

He always believed that his father and Kili's were still alive, and that his mother and his Uncle had their reasons for wanting him and Kili to grow into men, free of their influence.

After all, why would Dis have need to visit her husbands' graves for two months, every year, and never bring her sons, even when they were grown, with her?

If there was anyone left in Middle Earth that saw Vargbrand, the Great Beast as a maligned hero, it was his son, who aspired to become his own idealized version of his famous and infamous father.

Thorin would never say anything good about the man; and Dis hardly spoke of him.

I suppose Fili thought that Lord Elrond would know something about Vargbrand, as he knew something about everything.

"…before I answer any of your questions, Prince Fili, what do you remember of your father? And your Uncle."

"Kili remembers his father as being beautiful, melancholy, and defiant. That is my Uncle, in a sentence. He was fierce in his love for my father, fierce to defend it, and just as fierce to tell me that if I tried to repeat the family tradition with Kili, he'd put a stop to it. He was very much the poet, until Da got in a temper and tried to take it out on Mum. Or Kili, or me. Then I got to meet Lothinwaen, the warrior. Mum loved Da, but she was afraid of him. And Kili would get afraid, when he got mad. But, like my Uncle, I never was afraid of my father. His rages used to fascinate me. I'd sit there and watch him. Especially when he and mu Uncle would fight. They had a real corker, once, and Da threw Uncle out a stained-glass window. Uncle fell from the tall tower to the lowest one, and Da ran down the stairs, and I ran after him. We came out on the parapet of the lowest tower, and Uncle was just getting up, brushing glass out of his hair. And when Da asked him if he was alright, Uncle punched him square in the mouth, and knocked him cold."

Fili laughed.

"Then we all barricaded ourselves in Uncle's rooms. Kili and I slept on the floor, and Mum and Uncle in Uncle's bed, and Da was outside, raging and shouting. That would happen at least once a month. And then all was forgiven. I still remember I would wake up early in the morning, and wake Kili up and we would run into our parents' bedroom. They all slept together, in the same bed, and it was bigger than the one in Kili's and my room, here. And if it was quiet, we'd run in and open the drapes and the bedcurtains and jump on the bed and laugh and scream. And Uncle, he was always hung over, he'd pull up the covers and groan, and Mum would try to get us to go back to bed. But Da, my Da, he'd get up and put Kili on one shoulder and me on the other and he'd ask us where we wanted to go. You know, anywhere in Dain's Halls. And he'd take us there. I still miss my Da. I know he did terrible things. Especially to my Uncle Lothinwaen, without thinking they were terrible. But Uncle never wavered in how well he loved Da. Neither have I. After all, Da, he never did anything bad to me."

Lord Elrond looked both thoughtful, and sad.

I know I felt the same way.

"Your father did a great many misdeeds to others, Prince Fili. Including his own brother. But I do not think him all an evil man; most of the bad among us, all the races, are neither all good or all bad. It is not for me to say more than that; that is your family business. But you suppose right, your father and your uncle still live. And from what I know, they follow closely, through their yet faithful wife, your mother, the lives of their sons. Who they hope to meet again, when they are grown. You may see your father again, sooner than you think. But call to mind, Prince Fili, had he wanted you to be more like him, he would have raised you, himself. But beware, for when you meet him again, as a man, you might find your opinion changed. It may be better to remember Vargbrand as a boy does, not come to know him for who he is, as a man. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a question for you."

Fili looked surprised.

"Ask me. I have nothing to hide."

"Other than what anyone, Man, Elf, or Dwarf could see, that you love Miss Baggins, why do you want to marry her?"

"Is that all you want to know?"

"Yes."

"Well, that's easy! She's my girl, of course I want to marry her! Besides, even if she wasn't a good girl in thought and word, she was, in deed, before I took her on a few walks in the wood and ultimately, into a haywagon at the Breeland Midsummer Fair, that first year I met her. Kili was still all in a flutter about the ribbons on her drawers, and Uncle had her filed away for later, but Bella was a maiden fair, before me. So what kind of heel would I be not to marry her? I didn't want either of them, especially my little brother, a raw virgin, getting their hands on her before I did. It wasn't their business to, Bella wasn't their girl. She was mine, right from the start. She's a very special girl, the kind of girl I thought I'd never meet in my life. Bella and I, we're like the lovers who meet at the end of the journey. Except the book is The 12 Nights. And I was born the hero if it, Maeluiadan. I can't help the dragon fire in my blood. But Bella? She's my little Maeluiadaneth, and though it may sound awful, I love her for it, and I have always loved her for it. Kili, he understands that. Now my Uncle wants to steal our Bella from both of us. He's going to have to fookin' well learn to share; I have, and Kili has, after all. Kili won't get on his hind legs and kick about it, but I will. You may think it's noble for a prude to love a chaste woman for her purity, but let me tell you, when you're the son of the Great Beast, you love a woman for her impurity one fookin' hell of a lot more." Fili replied.

Lord Elrond smiled, almost in spite of himself.

"In your way, Prince Fili, I think you are as much an incurable romantic as your brother. You and he just got your ideas of what romance is from different sources. You had better go and find Miss Baggins, on her explorations, before she is stolen from you, once more."

"I know where she is."

"Then I will leave you to go to her."

Lord Elrond made his exit, and when he was gone, Fili turned and caught my eye in one of ten hedges if there were, one, twenty, maybe.

"You can come out now, Bella."

"How did you know I was there?"

"I'm a tracker, a hunter, and a scout. And Smaug will be better than I am. You had better get better at hiding, or our trip to the Lonely Mountain will be a short one."

I sat beside him, on the bench he was resting on.

"Don't you think this place is beautiful, Fili?"

"It is, isn't it? It almost makes you want to be an Elf. Nothing to do but eat, and read, and sleep. And write poems and contemplate, and play music. And get up to no good in these gardens."

"I've seen quite a lot of that. I've had to keep hurrying by."

"Done any of it, in these lovely gardens"

"Yes. On my wedding night. While you were putting the boots to every girl in servant's livery in Rivendell."

"Guilty as charged. But I was just reherasing."

"For what?"

"For what I have planned for you."

"What's that?"

"You'll see. Later. After dinner. Right now, I'd like to see what it is you can do with that sword and axe that you cut down all those orcs."

"You never drill with me in earnest!"

"I never knew you were so good."

"But these are real weapons!"

"I know. That's the fun part."

Fili got up, and drew both his swords.

"Alright. I'm an orc. Come on, and try to kill me."

---

"Calm down, lassie, it's only a wee little scratch."

"But you've had to stitch it up, Oin! Fili, I told you we shouldn't use real weapons! I might have cut your arm off!"

"Did you not bring fighting tips, for drilling, Fili?"

"Well, I did, but…"

"But you didn't think your little Bella was all that good, even after you saw her throw an axe through an orc and his warg from half a field away? You didn't think she could hit hard enough to break a man's nose, either? I think you ought to re-think what you think about our Tookish lass, Fili lad. Alright, both of you, that's all. Run along and enjoy yourselves, while you can. But without weapons."

---

"Bella, where did you get that big ugly bruise on your leg? And you, Fili, lad, why is your arm bandaged?"

"I was drilling with Bella, Uncle. It's my fault."

"Without protective padding? Without tips? You might have killed each other!"

"I tried to tell him that."

"You won't do it again, will you, Fili lad?"

"No, Uncle, you can bet I won't."

---

I returned to my bedroom, after dinner, and there, drenched in moonlight, draped atop my covers was Fili, in all his blond, blue-eyed, good-looking glory, entirely naked.

He had a basket of pastries sitting on the nightstand, and when I came in, he was taking a very large bite of some kind of chocolate cake, out of which a gob of whipped cream landed on his chest.

He plucked it off with his finger and beckoned to me, and when I got close enough, he put his finger to my lips.

"Taste this. It tastes like the way you'd imagine September clouds would."

I licked the gob of whipped cream off of Fili's finger, and he patted the bed beside him, for me to lie down.

I did, leaving my jacket, and waistcoat and sword-belt behind me.

"The cake part is even better. Open up."

I took a very large bite of the best chocolate pastry I had ever eaten, and Fili licked away the gob of whipped cream I got on my chin.

I can't really describe the kind of sound I made; but I can tell you that I had never felt so unashamedly dirty and horny in all my life.

Trust Fili to notice the near erotic pleasure I had rather ashamedly taken in Elvin pastries after not having dessert for months, and plan for me a new kind of dirty delight the like of which even I had scarcely imagined.

"You look so very happy, my little Maeluiadaneth."

"Fili, you are Maeluiadan made flesh! A very Great Beast. You must be the wickedest man in all of Middle Earth! How could you know about…something I have scarcely dared think to myself?"

"Really, Bella? You act as if this is the filthiest thing we have ever done!"

I had a little bit of whipped cream on my nose, and, very slowly, Fili licked that off, too.

"It feels like it is!"

"I thought it might. You see, I know what your two greatest pleasures are, in life. And I admit, they go together very well. It's not every day a man like me gets a new vice. But it's not every man who has himself a filthy little slut like you."

He ate up the last of that pastry, and unlaced my tunic.

I pulled it over my head, and I left my drawers to him.

They were black and lacy, with green velvet ribbons.

Fili had paid far too much money for them, about a year before, and I had put them on after we drilled.

Yes, just for him.

He reached into the basket for a very gooey cream puff, which he popped into my mouth as he undid the ribbon on my drawers that closed the slit between the legs.

You know, when he gave them to me, I thought that slit was a clever thing, because you could piss without pulling your drawers down?

Shows how much I knew.

"Mmmmmm." I said to him,

Meaning many things.

I rolled into his arms, for a long, languorous, chocolate and whipped-cream kiss.

"We shouldn't make a habit of this, Fili. I'll get fat. Wait. Never mind. I don't care." I giggled.

Yes, I did.

I giggled.

And Fili laughed.

"You won't get fat with me around, Bella. Even if I have to ride your arse all the way to the Lonely Mountain."

"I hope you do."

He got another one of those chocolate cakes out of the basket and when he bit into it, almost all of the cream fell out.

Three guesses as to where it landed.

"Oh no! Clumsy me, I seem to have gotten whipped cream all over both of us. And look where it's landed! Well, I suppose there's only one thing to be done for it."

And thus, proceeding, of course, to an interesting variation of the 69th page in the book of love.

And from there, to many other pages.

Maybe I had it wrong, maybe Fili was a better lover than his brother was.

Quite possibly, he was the best of all.

---

The next day?

Oh, we slept past noon, Fili and I, and as we still had quite a few pastries left, we stayed in bed all day, doors locked.

In the evening of the following day, which I, for one, slept through most of, in the course of my secret stealing, I overheard Elrond reminding Gandalf that both Thorin's father and grandfather went mad, and that they had no guarantee that he wouldn't succumb to the Dragon-Sickness, as well.

And when I popped up out of my hiding place to stealthily sneak away, there was Thorin, eavesdropping on the same conversation.

I gave him quite a start, too; he had no idea that I was there.

"I shouldn't worry about that, Thorin. Lord Elrond doesn't realize that you won't be turning into a greedy, vengeful, bloodthirsty madman, because that happened quite some time ago. I, for one, don't see how you could become any worse." I told him.

Cheerfully.

Trying to make light of it.

"You hid yourself well, burglar. I never would have known you to be there. And I wouldn't say the Elf-Lord was my enemy. But neither is he my friend. And our time to make it otherwise has run out. They are going to have some kind of meeting, Gandalf and Elrond, and others among the leaders of Wizards and Elves. And I do not think it will be regarding Coruadan. We're going to leave in a hurry, before some bastard Elf or poncy wizard tells us not to."

"But it's only been a week!"

"If you want to, you may stay here until the quest is finished, and I will send for you when the task is done!" Thorin snapped.

"Who would you get to burgle your Arkenstone for you?"I retorted.

"I'd roll around in wargshite to throw off the dragon's nose and steal it, meself if I had to! Now, seeing as you've become so good at hiding and snooping, I have your first job as burglar for you. You stay behind, Orguldis, and listen to everything that is said at this meeting. Steal for me every secret that they do not want me to know! Fili and Kili will be waiting for you, in the cave where we took refuge from the orcs. You three can catch up to us; we will only have a few hours lead on you. Can I count on you, Bella, to be my eyes and ears, while our enemies conspire against us?"

"You don't mean Gandalf, do you?"

"I mean the White Wizard. He is no true friend to any Elf, Dwarf or Man, but the Sindarin Elves. But Saruman has an especial disdain for Dwarves. And I do not know if the council will include that poncy bastard Thranduil. He would rather let the world see the horrible scars on his pretty face than see me on my grandfather's throne, and if he had advance notice of our coming, only the gods know what lengths he would go to, in order to stop us. You think me vengeful and bitter? You have not met the Elvenking!"

I have to admit, the idea of spying on wizards and Elvenkings made me feel a little frightened.

But I was proud and pleased that Thorin was trusting me with such an important task.

"I'll burgle every word they say for you, Thorin."

"Good. Go and pack up your things, and give them to Kili. He'll take them to the cave. And don't let anyone see you go."

---

I was mindful of how Fili had found my hiding place, so I eschewed foliage for a hiding place in a large ornamental urn.

It had a crack in it, too, through which I could see a little, but in that the urn was right by Lord elrond's elbow, I could hear perfectly.

Thorin need not have worried; Thranduil was not at the meeting of the White Council.

Saruman the White was upset that the Elvenking had not made an appearance; apparently he was a member and it had been expected that he would attend.

"I had invited the Elvenking of Mirkwood to this meeting; but of course he would not leave his Woodland Realm. What has happened to that man, I cannot say? I imagine he is busy propagating his race on the body of one of his concubines, or wasting his powers on preserving his beauty. He has not at all been the same man since the coming of Smaug, the breaking of his friendship with the Dwarves and the death of his sister."

He made a face of disapproval.

"You forget that his mother was forced from Middle Earth, and denied entry into the Undying Lands, when he was a child. Not to mention and the deaths of his and father and stepmother, also untimely, in battle. An occasion upon which he was mauled, trampled and mutilated by a firedrake, which I might add, Thranduil still managed to kill. That is quite a litany of tragedies for a young Elf. My kinsman became the Elvenking at a mere 200 years old, and he is only 201 years older than his eldest son, who is a mere 1900 years old. Even if Gandalf is mistaken about the rise of Sauron, perhaps if the Dwarves were restored to Erebor and the dragon slain, then it might do both Thranduil and his realm some good."

"That is true, Saruman. Even if you think that I am sounding an unnecessary alarm, it would still be better that the dragon was slain." Gandalf interjected.

"So that a vengeful madman, hardened by nearly two centuries of toil, war and loss might wear the crown of one of the most powerful kingdoms in Middle Earth?" Saruman sniffed.

"Better Thorin Oakenshield than a dragon. And he does have two nephews." Elrond added

"His heir is the son of Vargbrand! No wickeder man draws breath in Middle Earth, of any race! And none may dare remind me in his defence that he is the greatest general and the fiercest orc figher of the Third Age! That does not excuse his wickedness! A sadist, a sorcerer and a sodomite, who made a catamite of his own brother! The Dwarf, Oakenshield removed his sister and his sister sons from the Great Beast's household, in justified fear that Vargbrand would abuse his own son and nephew the way he had every other soul his filthy hands touched! Vargbrand is more wolf than man, and his warlike whelp seems to aspire to be as much his father's cub as he can be!" Saruman protested.

"Young Fili had no idea of the kind of man his father really is, and none have told him. As well they should not! Let the lad remember what is good in the Great Beast, and remain, until he is fully a man, ignorant of the worst of his wickedness! Young Fili aspires to his father's better qualities, not his crimes and sins. You forget Kili, the son of Vargbrand's unfortunate brother, the warrior-poet Lothinwaen. He is a reckless boy, but he has fine qualities. Kili is loyal, wise, and brave, and does not have the coarseness you speak of that are ingrained in his uncle and brother. Even though he is a reckless boy; I can see the nobility in him." Elrond protested.

Gandalf stood up, in quite a wizardly huff.

"I see nobility in Thorin Oakenshield and both his heirs! If you would judge a man by what goes on beneath his blankets, then who among us would not be considered ignoble and worthless? We are all men here at this table, and under the robes of our office we are made as other men are. We have loved and lusted and lost, the way all men have. And we are not judged by it. Thorin is as loyal, wise, brave and noble as Kili, but he is not a reckless boy. What man hasn't sought solace in the arms of any woman who could make him forget the tragic death of his beloved wife? And who would not be embittered by the betrayal of a trusted friend that led to the death of the beloved wife of your youth? Less than a year after you had won her? Many have fallen on their own swords for tragedies less than that. And if Thorin was a soft-headed, soft-hearted princely fool, would he have been able to build New Belegost from ruins, and with the sweat from his own brow and the force of his own will, made it a homeland for his scattered, wretched, homeless people? As for Fili, he and his brother are both fine, brave, honest lads, both destined to one day be noble kings. Do we now judge the sons by the sins of their fathers? Fili is yet a lad, just as his brother is. What has he done for us to compare him to the Great Beast? Known a lot of women? Occasionally raised his glass to excess? Shared the company of his brother's woman? Whom he has agreed, for your information, to marry. By Eru Illuvatar, himself, if for those three things a man is to be damned, then the dead will soon walk the Earth because Hell will be too full!"

Elrond smiled at Gandalf's defence of his friends, and Lady Galadriel laughed, a little.

"That is your problem, Mithrandir. You are too invested in the lesser creatures of Middle Earth. Men. Halflings. Dwarves!" Saruman replied.

When Saruman said "Dwarves" he wrinkled his nose like there was a bad smell under it.

"Ponce." I muttered under my breath.

Lady Galadriel laughed at that, too.

She looked into my hiding place and when she caught my eye, I heard her voice to as clearly as if she was speaking to me.

Keep your temper, little one. If you show your hand, the meeting will be over, and Gandalf would be greatly embarrassed.

The rest of their meeting boiled down to some frightening talk about the rise of Sauron, and Gandalf's opinion that Smaug would sooner side with the Dark Lord than any other.

And I was convinced that the Enemy would rise, when I saw the Morgul Blade of the Witch-King of Angmar.

I was going to leave after the meeting broke up, with Saruman in a huff and Elrond looking amused about how Gandalf had helped the Dwarves give him and Elrond the slip.

But Lady Galadriel asked Gandalf a question about me.

So I lingered.

Also, I was having difficulty getting out of the jar.

"Mithrandir... Why the Halfling?"

"Saruman believes it is only great power that can hold evil in check, but that is not what I have found. I found it is the small everyday deeds of ordinary folk that keep the darkness at bay. Small acts of kindness and love. Why Belladonna Baggins? I don't know. Perhaps because I am afraid, and she gives me courage."

That surprised me.

I never imagined that Gandalf, that a wizard, could be afraid.

Let alone that he could derive courage from, well, from me.

You can imagine I was both gobsmacked and embarrassed when Lady Galadriel took Gandalf's hands.

Even he looked surprised.

And then she pushed the odd bit of his hair away from his face.

That certainly seemed the preliminary to a kiss.

I should have looked away.

But my curiosity got the better of me.

"Do not be afraid, Mithrandir. You are not alone. If you ever need aid, I will come." She told him.

It wasn't, you know, a kiss to stop the world.

But it was enough to see more than I should have.

So I shut my eyes.

When I opened them a few moments, later, the Lady of Lothlorien was gone.

Maybe it had been a kiss to stop the world.

It was high time for me to hightail it for the cave we had hidden from the orcs in, but I found I had hidden myself so well that I was, indeed, stuck.

Gandalf looked over his shoulder, to make sure he was alone, and then he casually walked over to my hiding place.

"I trust you will be discreet." He said.

"My lips are sealed." I promised.

"I fear that is not all that is sealed! Belladonna Baggins, how did you squeeze yourself into that urn?"

"Carefully. But I don't think I can squeeze meself out."

"Well, give me your hands, and I'll try and pull you out. It's a good first try, but one of the aims of burglaring is that you don't get caught."

Gandalf had to turn the ornamental stone urn over on its side, brace his foot against it and pull, and when I did come out of the urn, I popped out like a cork from a bottle, and knocked us both over.

We both tried not to laugh as we were getting up, but we were both unsuccessful.

"At least this time I didn't get caught by the people I was meant to be eavesdropping on. I'm sorry, Gandalf. But I thought if I took off my jacket and vest and my sword and my pack, that I'd fit."

"You fit a little too snugly. Next time you decide to hide yourself, don't choose a vessel that is shaped the way you are. Now, were your eavesdropping under your own steam, or on your husband's instructions."

"You mean Kili?" I asked.

Funny, that, when I think "husband", it's Kili that I think of.

"I mean Thorin Oakenshield. King Under the Mountain? Ring any bells?" Gandalf explained.

"All of them. That's the trouble. But, I'd never eavesdrop on your private wizard meetings, I was raised with better manners than that. Thorin told me to."

"And he left you here, on your own, to make your way back up to that cave?"

"Well, Kili and Fili are to meet me there."

"That doesn't explain how you and your pack will get up that sheer rock face to the cave. Go to the gates, and hoot like a screech owl. One of them will figure out he's to come and get you. I'll walk with you to the gates. Now remember. Don't go into the mountains without me. I will settle things here, with Lord Elrond, then I'll rejoin you."

---

Gandalf and I walked to the gates, and then he hooted like a screech owl.

He did very well, too.

Kili and Fili popped up, from amongst the topiary.

"We thought it might be better if we met Bella down here." Fili explained.

"A good idea. But you had better get going to that cave. I will see you in the mountains. Now, go quickly!" Gandalf told us.

Kili took my pack, and Fili carried me like a pack, which I found humiliating, but it did get us to the cave, in a hurry.

"Well?" Fili asked me, once we were safe.

I reached into my pack and broke out some mutton jerky for everyone.

"Gods and heroes and monsters and faeries! I just saw Gandalf kissing the Lady of Lothlorien!" I blurted out.

And immediately wished I hadn't.

"I knew that. Everybody knows that." Fili said

"Really? Uncle Thorin shouldn't taunt him about it, then." Kili added.

"Don't repeat that!' I told them.

Then, I told them everything else that I had just heard, while it was fresh in my mind, and Kili wrote it all down.

He seemed proud that Elrond called him noble and brave and wise.

Oddly enough, Fili was proud to be likened to a wolf, cub or no, and called his infamous father's "warlike whelp."

It solidified his opinion that he should, indeed, be known as "the Wolf of the West."

"Did you write it all down, Kili? Even the parts Uncle won't like?" Fili asked.

"You told me never to write down the parts Uncle won't like."

"Well, this time, you have to. Write it down, again."

---

By the time we caught up with the rest of the Company, they were just stopping to make camp.

Thorin looked at the notes Kili had made on what I told him, and raised an eyebrow.

As if he knew that Kili had left out the parts he wouldn't like.

"Saruman the White looks down on Dwarves in general, and on me, in particular. Come with me, wife. We must have words."

I told Thorin everything, including the bits Kili had left out.

Except for the part about Galadriel and Gandalf.

He didn't need to know about that.

Thorin seemed little disturbed by the White Wizard's opinions about him and his heirs, but almost surprised that Gandalf had come to their defence the way he did.

The part he found most disturbing, though, was the Morgul blade.

He made me describe that part to him, several times, and then he got up, and walked a few steps away.

I wasn't sure whether I should follow him, or not.

Then, Balin came and joined us, and he and Thorin spoke in low tones.

Balin looked even more disturbed.

I quietly made my way back to camp, and lay down between Fili and Kili.

Neither of them were asleep, and though it was a warm night, we three huddled together because we were frightened.

The very idea that the Enemy had arisen, and that was why the orcs were getting so bold and why Gandalf was in such a hurry to see Smaug dead and Thorin restored to his ancestral throne?

That was an unfathomable terror, far beyond the fear of a dragon, or even our fear of our own deaths.

We were afraid of the end of the world, the end of all things, the doom of Elves and Dwarves and Men and Hobbits alike; afraid that we would live to see the whole of Middle Earth burn, and witness the death of everyone we loved and everyone we loathed; indeed, everything we knew.

The Apocalypse, if you will.

Even Gandalf was afraid.

He had said so.

But Balin and Thorin looked resolute, rather than frightened, upon their return to camp.

"Thorin? It seems that the young ones are frightened." Balin whispered, as he passed us.

"I'll take care of it."

And if Thorin had given us some large windy speech about the great destiny of something or other, it would not have helped.

But that is not what he did.

"Alright, you frightened cubs, it's time to stop pretending you are grown, and come back to the old wolf's side, where you feel safe."

That's what we did, too.

"Don't remember only that Gandalf said he was afraid. Remember the rest of what he said. And even if the world burns, I know places, deep, secret places beneath the Mountain, deeper more secret places beneath New Belegost, refuges made by the fathers of our race. We could all live there for an Elf's age, quiet and safe. Have no fear. I will protect you, even from the Dark Lord, himself. Trust in this wily old wolf, my cubs, and no harm will come to you."

Of course, Thorin had made us a promise that would be very hard to keep, but it made us all feel better, anyway.

You could feel safe, even from the Apocalypse, knowing that Thorin Oakenshield would stand between you and it.

He is just that kind of man.

(Author's Note: I'm not ignorant of my Silmariliion, I know of Thranduil's history, and that he was 3000 when his son was 1900, not 2100. But I wanted to make him a little younger for the purposes of this story. It will make more sense one or two chapters hence, when we arrive in Mirkwood.)