After battling the flu, computer problems, and vacation, I have this for you! I am SO sorry for the long pause, but I had SO MANY computer problems! It is because of that that this chapter is lacking in content. So again, I am sorry, but we are moving right along! Hopefully updates will be as regular as they used to be! Thank you all so much to those who were so patient and continued to favorite/comment!
Disclaimer: Tolkien owns Tolkien, you own you!
Thorin asks you to marry him in the spring.
He'd specifically planned the afternoon for at least a month, reminding you of it every other day until you threatened to get it tattooed on your arm so he'd be sure you wouldn't forget. But you understood why it was so important; Thorin had a kingdom to run, so any time off had to be carefully coordinated.
He brings a blanket and picnic basket up to the landing by the hidden door into the Mountain. You appreciate the finely completed circle of events. "Why here?" you ask, wondering if he was thinking the same thing you are.
"I thought it fitting. You'll understand why soon."
You've learned that Thorin is fond of little games like this, so you simply continue eating.
You chat sporadically through the late afternoon. Thorin seems distracted, but you don't really mind: running a kingdom is a full-time job. The sun finally begins its descent in a very grand display of reds and oranges.
"I've got something for you," Thorin begins almost hesitantly.
You groan good-naturedly. Thorin has made it a point to shower you in "somethings" over the course of your courtship. Your collective jewelry stash likely weighs as much as you do. You have enough chains, cuffs, beads, rings, necklaces, tiaras, earrings, and bracelets to start your own kingdom. But you know it's just his way, and you can't say you dislike the attention, especially the proud gleam in his eye when he sees you decked out in his gifts.
"It's a small thing," he assures you, "but it's important. Very important."
"Then I would be glad to see it," you smile.
Thorin places a small box in your hand. You open it and gasp: within is the most breathtaking ring you've ever seen. The large marquise-cut gem is the clearest of white and shines with an inner light. It reminds you of an Elven Ring of Power, or the Evenstar, or the Arkenstone itself.
"Thorin, it's - where did you - how - "
Thorin smiles hopefully. "Do you like it?"
"It's incredible! It's so beautiful it's almost scary!"
"It took a while to craft. It's a simple enough design, but the gem had to be perfect and pure, just like your heart. The band is mithril."
"Thorin, are you sure you want to give this to me? It's too good."
"Nothing is too good for you, my love. In truth, my giving it to you comes with a condition."
"A condition?" you laugh. "Well, I guess that's fitting. Lay it on me."
"You must only accept this ring if you are willing to do me the honor of becoming my wife."
The box almost slips through your fingers as you gaze at Thorin in shock. You manage to whisper, "What?"
"This is your engagement ring, if you'll have it." Thorin takes your soft hands in his warm, rough ones. "I would bind myself to you for all eternity. The mere thought of being without you drives me mad. Will you marry me, Aniel?"
You throw yourself into his arms and fit as many "yes"s into each breath as humanly possible. "Oh Thorin, I can't believe - I never thought - yes, of course I'll marry you!"
"Then you have made me the luckiest Dwarf in Middle Earth." He showers your face with kisses. His beard tickles your nose. He then slips the engagement ring onto your right middle finger, the traditional one for Dwarves.
"I'm the luckiest Elf in Middle Earth! I never would have dreamed that things could turn out so wonderfully. To have been able to meet you, talk to you, fight with you, and fall in love with you has been more than I ever could have asked for. And you did it here of all places!"
"I thought it was an appropriate place. Look, the moon is rising." Indeed, a round, white moon now peeks out from some wispy clouds. "Just as we entered this place by the light on the moon, so shall we rule it side by side."
"Rule it.." Your ecstacy flickers. "I don't know anything about ruling."
"I'm not worried. Your blinding cheer and sheer charm will be enough."
"And you're sure it's...okay for you to marry me?"
Thorin catches your drift and chuckles. "Always thinking of others. You forget, dearest, that the people hold you in high regard, all things considered."
You can't argue with that. You've made quite a splash over the year. The well-loved stories of the Battle of Erebor paint you as a mighty, selfless hero. It's a flattering notion, though not quite true, and you suppose you can see how such a portrayal would earn you at least grudging respect in the eyes of the Dwarf people. But perhaps Thorin was onto something when he mentioned your blinding cheer: in the same way you had disarmed the company with your militant merriment so long ago, your almost aggressive joy gave no one who met you a logical reason to dislike you. And really, it hadn't been a chore to be kind and engaging and sociable. You found every Dwarf genuinely fascinating, likely because even after all this time, you're still amazed to find yourself where you do.
You nod. "Alright. No worries. I'm gonna be queen. I'm gonna be queen." You repeat it with awe, hardly able to digest the idea."
"And quite a historic one," Thorin adds, pulling you back into his arms. "The first and possibly last Elven queen of a Dwarf kingdom."
"Firsts are nice, but I really only care about who I'm marrying, not what I'm marrying into."
Thorin shakes his head, smiling. "Again your purity astounds me. How do you do it?"
"Y'know, I've actually been thinking about that, and I have an answer: it's because I never lie about my motives or what I'm feeling - or I haven't yet, anyway. I'm just honest."
"If only we could all be so open with our feelings."
You twist the ring on your finger. The large gem catches the moonlight and glows all the brigher. "Well, this is certainly a good start."