Thorin took another sip of the red wine and closed his eyes wearily. It had been a long day, and he was more glad than he would care to admit that it was now over, the disastrous dinner notwithstanding. Despite Bolli's grudging apology for his disgraceful slur on Thorin's good name, the mood at dinner had never recovered, and everyone had limped off to bed after the cheese course. They hadn't even started on the hard liquor.
Why do I have all these uppity kinsmen trying to tell me what I must do? I'm the King under the Mountain! I have the Arkenstone! They must respect my authority.
After Sigrid's angry outburst, Thorin had felt some small degree of shame – but then the lights had come back up and he'd seen Dáin's brother-in-law's ugly little rat face and changed his mind. He was just sorry it hadn't been a knife he'd thrown at the impudent cur's throat. But then again, Dáin might have been upset by that, and that could never be allowed in Thorin's kingdom, could it?
"What is vexing you, my king? Are you still thinking about that spiteful dwarf from dinner?" Rose peered up at him from the floor where she sat in a white smock, rubbing his feet with a perfumed oil.
She'd promised him the fragrance would remove the tension from his body and mind, but so far he thought the wine was doing a better job of that. And Bilbo would be doing a better job at a foot massage. Not that it was unpleasant to feel her soft hands on his body – it was just a shame they were on his rough, calloused feet.
"I don't want that dwarf at my meeting tomorrow. I know my cousin will bring him along – he wouldn't dream of offending his kinsman after all!" Thorin raised the wine to his lips with a scowl. "Dáin knows I need his forces to keep Erebor safe – if the orcs come back I can't see them off with just twelve dwarves. He's taking advantage of me, and hides it by lecturing me about honour!" Thorin knocked back another helping of wine, and sat further back into the stack of pillows piled high on his bed.
On the floor, Rose gave him a sympathetic nod. "So why don't you get the Laketown men to fight for you? Didn't they help you in the battle today?"
Thorin nodded. "Those that could, yes. But they're not fighters, Rose, most of them can't even hold a sword properly! They'd do more battle damage if I armed them with fishing-poles and mattocks."
But Rose looked thoughtful. "Are you sure the King of Mirkwood will not assist you? If your wizard has gone to speak with him, then maybe – "
"No! We will find no help from him. Thranduil would rather see my kingdom burnt down and over-run by orcs than offer me friendship!"
The woman poured some more oil at his feet, and rubbed it slowly between Thorin's toes. "I'm sure you're right, but would he wish the men of Laketown to suffer the same fate? Surely he has more cordial relations with King Bard? Couldn't you join forces with Bard and use him to make the alliance with Thranduil for you?"
Thorin sat up straighter and opened his eyes. "I would need to offer Bard something in return." He set the near-empty wine glass on the headboard and tried to make a mental inventory. "I have lots of gold, but I don't know how much it means to a man like Bard. If he's anything like his scolding daughter, then he'll be more concerned with the welfare of his people." He met Rose in the eye. "As am I! I know none of us have enough to eat for winter, but until we may trade freely there's nothing I can do about that!"
"Of course, my king." The woman moved her fingers over the balls of his feet, and Thorin shivered suddenly. "And I think you are right about that man. His family seem quite... principled. Maybe you need to give Bard a longer term incentive to back Erebor?"
Thorin half-closed his eyes again, starting to enjoy the massage. "What do you mean?"
Rose hesitated, and Thorin heard a note of caution in her voice. "You could propose a marriage? Between his daughter, and one of your nephews?"
But Thorin just chuckled softly. "I think you've had too much elvish wine, my lady. It can make anyone quite soft-headed."
The woman at his feet said nothing, but he felt her hands grip his ankles, and start kneading at the tight calf muscles on his lower legs. "Will you tell me what's wrong with the idea, my king?"
Thorin wondered where to begin. "Neither of my nephews would agree to it, for a start. Kili is infatuated with that traitor elf, and Fili is my heir – and will marry another dwarf lord's daughter in good time to further our line. Anything else would be beneath him."
Rose pondered this in silence. "So you would have Fili marry within the dwarf nobility, to cement another political alliance, but not marry a noble woman – to cement a political alliance?"
"Well, yes. It's not my people's custom to marry into... foreign races." Thorin sighed as he felt her fingers kneading deeper into his tense muscles, working him up and down in big, sweeping strokes.
She looked up at him from the floor and smiled – her big, brown eyes framed by her long, black lashes. "But I thought you said you were doing things differently? To build new alliances? That you didn't care about the opinions of others?" He felt her hands around his knees, edging up to the hem of his tunic and sliding around his leg to caress the muscles lying free of the bed.
Thorin smiled absent-mindedly. "Fili would never agree to it. It would insult him to be pawned like a stud bull at a cattle market. It's not our way."
"But it is our way, my king. It is how men do things." Rose gripped his lower thighs with her oily hands, and began to gently part his legs at the knee. "If your heir is loyal to his king then he will do as he is bid, and nobody who you need right now would think badly of it. Maybe those spiteful dwarves – " Thorin felt her push his tunic up ever so slightly, "– from dinner would have something to say about it, but you'd have no reason to care for their feelings. You wouldn't need people like your cousin..."
He felt himself sigh as her fingernails raked deliberately up the inside of his thigh. "Not when you have people like me. Trust in men, my king. Let us be your allies."
Thorin found himself nodding. He had to admit, there was a certain, simple appeal to her idea. What better way to show Dáin he would not be cowed by their people's frustrating traditions in his newly resurrected kingdom? They would all of them respect his authority, or be gone from Erebor. It was true that Fili might well object, but the lad could usually be made amenable if his role in serving the greater good was emphasised. And at the end of the day, what difference would it make to him?
"I will... propose this match at the meeting tomorrow. If Bard will deliver Thranduil, then so be it."
Rose smiled at him, and rolled his tunic up all the way to his hip with her soft hands. Her face half hidden by her dark curls, he felt her warm breath on the top of his thigh, and felt her hand cupping him intimately. Thorin stifled a groan.
"You should make me your queen, my king."
And then Thorin felt her mouth, hot and wet, enclose around him, teasing him with the tip of her tongue. And he lay fully back on the bed and let the sensations overtake him, as his mind went far away...
Kili yawned and rapped his knuckles on the heavy wooden table, bored and unaware of his brother's look of disapproval. For the fifth time in the past thirty seconds, he cast a hopeful glance at the meeting room door, willing it to open and his uncle Thorin to come marching through so they could get this ordeal over with.
He lolled back in his chair and sighed. He had no idea why they were making him come to this – he had no authority to make any decisions and seemingly even less social reputation among most of the dwarves now that they all knew about his relationship with the elf.
He knew Thorin would probably want to rub his face in the fallout somehow, but he'd thought business would trump petty revenge in his uncle's plans. He'd felt the tension in the room rise the minute he'd walked in behind his brother. Surely this wouldn't help their negotiation strategy? Not that he was aware there was a negotiation strategy...
"Ten minutes late he is now, I've a good mind to go to his room and drag him out of bed myself!" Dáin was obviously also bothered by Thorin's absence, and Kili briefly wondered if there was anything that didn't annoy the gruff-voiced, stocky old dwarf. He seemed to exist in a perpetual ball of rage, offence, and grudge bearing.
Just like all the rest of them, Kili thought indignantly. And they wonder why I'm rejecting their ways! I don't want to grow up to be an angry old crank like Dáin or my uncle.
He saw his brother look discreetly round the table, trying to gauge if any of their guests needed mollifying, and Kili followed his example. Bard and Gandalf looked peaceable enough, sitting with their hands clasped in front of them at the far end of the table – a picture of reasonable diplomacy – while Fili and Balin, sitting on his side, seemed more fidgety in their movements. No doubt they were wondering what Thorin was playing at now, seen as how it would probably be them who had to pick up the pieces.
More cautiously, Kili ventured a glance across the table at Dáin and his kinsman, noting with satisfaction how Bolli had come off the worse from last night's battle with the potato – the detestable dwarf now sported a black eye to go with his dour looks. The pair of them were looking impatient and angry. He suspected it was only a matter of time before at least one of them brought up the subject of the elf, and Kili could guarantee that Bolli would encounter something harder than a root vegetable if he insulted her name again.
With a sudden discordant creak, the heavy door was thrown wide, and Thorin strode into the room, sitting himself down at the head of the table. To the shock of those in the room, he was followed by the dark-haired woman, who closed the door gently behind herself and found an empty seat by the king's side. She stared down the disbelieving faces calmly, as if daring them to object.
"My friends, thank you for your patience. I understand we have much to discuss and time is short. I would like to start by reiterating my sorrow at last night's misadventures, and thank Bolli son of Hvoar for apologising so humbly for his errant behaviour last night."
Kili smirked as Bolli's face grew redder, but the ugly dwarf had the good sense to keep his head down and stare fixedly at the table. Gandalf caught Kili's eye and raised a grey, bushy eyebrow in consternation, prompting Kili to try and effect a veneer of innocence.
Thorin paused briefly, checking each of the guests around the table for signs of discontent, then continued. "As you all know, we have many important matters to discuss today – we have little food stored for the approaching winter, we have one enemy in the shape of Thranduil of Mirkwood on our doorstep, and we have reason to believe there may still be a sizeable party of orcs roaming freely in the vicinity of Erebor."
The dwarves all looked to Bard and Gandalf in turn, wondering what news they could bring to the table, but Thorin was obviously not yet finished. "I also have one small announcement that will be of interest to you all, but first I think we should listen to our wizard friend for news of Thranduil's court. What say you, Gandalf? It would be most welcome to hear some good news right now, but I scarcely can believe it possible." The king motioned to the wizard, and Gandalf nodded his head seriously.
"Thank you, Thorin. As you all know, I have just this morning returned from a parley with the elven king, to discuss trade terms and the possibility of a military alliance." Gandalf looked around, checking he had their attention. "On one point, King Thranduil was very clear: there can be no discussion with Erebor until the gems of Lasgalen are returned to Mirkwood. I believe they are family heirlooms of his, and their safe return to him is a prerequisite before terms will be discussed."
Kili looked to his uncle, half expecting him to dismiss the elven request out of hand, but Thorin looked to be deliberating. Finally, he nodded. "It would seem to be difficult to refuse such a reasonable demand. But how can I be sure Thranduil will grant me an audience once I have returned these gems?"
Something in his voice made the hairs on Kili's neck stand up, and he worried briefly whether his uncle – or King Thranduil himself for that matter – might consider Tauriel as another trinket to be traded with the elves for advantage.
But Gandalf met the king's question with calm indifference. "There are no guarantees, Thorin. But surely payment of any gold that they may think you owe them would be a prudent step in securing King Thranduil's goodwill."
Thorin frowned, and Kili heard Bard clear his throat. "Let us not forget the matter of the gold that is owed to the men of Laketown, King Thorin. We are entitled to a share of it, with which we need to buy food to feed ourselves over winter."
The king nodded slowly, as if considering something. He looked to the woman by his side, who waved her hand dismissively. "Erebor will honour the debt it has to Laketown." Thorin began. "But as I see it, you have no need for full payment right now. Surely it would be wiser to leave your gold safe in our vaults, and for me to transfer enough to negotiate a supply of food from Thranduil?"
Bard began to shake his head. "My lord – "
"– And if you would share this food with Erebor, and negotiate some military assistance from Mirkwood too, then maybe we could unite our two kingdoms more formally?"
Kili peered at his uncle, wondering what he was doing. Was this a ploy to keep Bard's gold for himself? Everyone knew Thorin had a problem parting with his favourite shiny baubles.
"And how would you suggest we do that, my lord?" Bard asked sceptically.
Thorin looked around the table and let his eyes settle affectionately on Kili's fair-haired brother. "By my nephew and heir marrying your daughter."
Kili blinked and wondered if he'd misheard. He saw his brother sit up in shock, and fix his blue-grey eyes onto his uncle's face in confusion. "Thorin?"
Bard looked to the blond dwarf, seeing his surprise. "What say you to this, Fili?"
Fili's eyes widened as he stared at the table, and Kili could read in the way his jaw jutted out that he was uncomfortable with the idea. Finally, he looked up, and turned to Bard. "Your daughter is an honourable and beautiful woman, my lord – but I cannot imagine she would be happy in marriage to a dwarf?" And with a rather pointed tone, that Kili suspected was for his uncle's benefit, he elaborated: "Most women neither desire us as husbands nor as fathers to their children."
Thorin smiled thinly. "So it is Bard's decision then, Fili? You consent to this match?"
The blond dwarf took a deep breath. "If it pleases my lords. And the lady Sigrid."
Bard smiled appreciatively at Fili. "I will ask her this evening, Fili, and you shall have your answer by nightfall." He saw the curious expressions that some of those around the table wore. "My daughter knows her own mind; she will either like the idea," he stared at Fili appraisingly for a second, "or she won't."
Kili gazed at his older brother in sympathy. They'd always known there was a risk that political marriages would figure in their lives, and Kili had always been adamant that it was something he could never accept. He suspected that Fili might feel the same way, but was too proud to admit it and go openly against their people's precious traditions.
His intuition told him however that Fili was not entirely displeased with the choice of bride. Kili had noticed the way his brother's eyes had settled on Sigrid last night, and her appeal to his brother was obvious.
How awkward for him if she refuses his hand – and how much worse if she accepts but hates him for it afterwards... Kili shuddered, yet again feeling enormously grateful for being the younger of Thorin's nephews.
Gandalf cleared his throat. "There may be one issue with your plan, Thorin. I fear Thranduil will have few soldiers to spare at the present time. His kingdom is under threat from fell forces on all sides, and I think it unlikely that he would help you in this way – even if wanted to."
Thorin turned to Bard, dismay on his face at the wizard's news.
Seeing their dilemma, Dáin spoke up. "My friends, perhaps you forget I already have a small army installed at Erebor. It would be possible for me to leave you some hundred or so dwarven troops to guard your kingdoms, and they would be more trustworthy than an army of Thanduil's troops. I could arrange for supplies to arrive over winter from the Iron Hills – I believe we have a surplus this year from our farmlands."
He turned to Thorin. "I would do all this gladly for you, as you are my kinsman, Thorin Oakenshield. But there will obviously have to be some recompense for my people."
Kili rolled his eyes. Obviously. Because our kind never shares with anyone, even our own kin, unless there is something in it for ourselves.
But Thorin – and Bard too – looked interested in Dáin's proposal. "What is it that your people seek, cousin?"
Dáin looked around the table. "They would settle for the same terms you offered Bard earlier." He smiled. "Although we have enough of our own gold." He turned to Fili, who had frozen in his chair. "Your eldest nephew and heir will marry my eldest daughter, Eyrun. And their first son shall inherit Erebor... Is this to your liking, Fili?"
All eyes turned again on the blond dwarf, who stared back at them like a trapped animal. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, and locked his eyes on Kili and then Thorin in silent appeal. Kili watched as his uncle gave a small, almost imperceptible shrug, and saw Fili's eyes fall to the table.
"If you will provide us all with enough food for winter, my lord... then yes. It is to my liking." He said flatly. Kili stared after him, trying to catch his eye, but Fili kept his gaze downcast.
And for once, Dáin looked jubilant. "That's settled then! I shall escort Eyrun to Erebor after the winter snow is melted, and you two shall be married on the first full moon of Spring. And when I return to the Iron Hills later today I shall leave you some one hundred troops, with thirty wagonloads of food to be delivered to Erebor all winter long – whatever the weather will bring." He looked to Thorin and Bard. "I trust this shall be enough?"
"I think it should be, my lord" replied the king of Laketown, looking to his counterpart for Erebor, and receiving a gracious nod. Thorin even ventured a smile. "Assuming we are not facing another army of orcs on our doorstep, then yes. It is very generous of you, cousin."
"I am glad it pleases you. And now Thorin, what of this mysterious announcement you said you had to make?"
Kili couldn't take his eyes off his brother, who was still staring forlornly at the table. He felt a sudden urge to run over to his side, and shake some sense into him before it was too late.
Thorin rose to his feet. "I would like to announce my engagement and intention to marry."
Kili looked at his uncle, stunned. He heard gasps all around him. Even Fili was staring at Thorin, incredulous.
His uncle continued regardless. "Erebor should have a queen, and I should have a wife. It is more... fitting for a king that way." He beamed down at the dark-haired woman. "And I have chosen Rose to be that queen."
Fitting? A week ago he was an avowed bachelor, with a special sideline in hobbits – now he wants to marry a woman he met yesterday? That woman? Kili stared at Rose, watching her obvious enjoyment despite the dwarves' discomfort. This has to be her doing! Fili was right about her!
But Dáin Ironfoot looked coldly at the woman. He was no fool. "Thorin, if you are serious about this, then do the sensible thing. Name Fili to be your heir, whatever half-breed offspring you may sire with this foreign woman!"
Rose glared openly at the red-bearded dwarf. "You should show some respect to your king in his halls, my lord. And towards your future, half-breed king as well." She stood at the head of the table, towering over the rest of them. "And you should show some respect to me," she hissed.
Her words had little effect on Dáin though. "And why is that, woman? Why should I show you respect when you insult my people in this way? By slinking in here with your pretty face, and trying to steal away the kingdom that my people built from scratch with their blood and toil?" He shook his head. "This is a shameful day in our history, friends."
"Are you finished, cousin?" Thorin queried. "You who worked so tirelessly to reclaim this dwarven kingdom from the ashes, and who would steal it yourself through your grandson?" He laughed contemptuously. "My heir shall remain Fili, up until the day that Rose gives me a son. As is our tradition."
Kili regarded his brother in concern. And what if she has no son? What then? He felt sudden concern for Fili, and wondered what the woman might be capable of in order to cement her clutches on their throne. And what if I do have children with Tauriel, and they become heirs in turn, standing in her way? The thoughts chilled him. What about Thorin, even?
Deep disquiet gripped his heart. Someone needs to put my uncle right about her!
And his kinsman, Dáin, evidently was thinking along the same lines. "If you insist on making a fool of yourself like this Thorin, then it concerns me greatly. I need further assurances that my daughter will be safe and welcome here as Fili's wife." He frowned, and looked at Bard and Balin. "You must see my problem here!"
For the first time in the meeting, Dáin's sullen brother-in-law spoke up. "I have a solution, Dáin."
Kili tensed, wondering if this was going to be another insult to his family or to the elf that he loved.
Bolli licked his lips. "I will stay here and watch your daughter, and your troops, Dáin. To safeguard our family's investment in this place."
Kili winced. The prospect of the loathsome dwarf spending any more time in Erebor was excruciating.
Maybe I will go and seek exile in Mirkwood, and petition Thranduil to let Tauriel return. It might well be better than staying here...
"And what do you want in return for this, Bolli?" Dáin asked.
The brown-bearded dwarf regarded them all round the table, as if sizing up his prey, and Kili sneered inwardly. He's obviously trying to think of the most insulting thing he can ask of my uncle!
Bolli cleared his throat, a leering smile on his face. "I will do this, if I can stay here and marry the lady Sigrid of Laketown. I understand that you have named her as your heir, Bard?"
But Bard's face twisted into a glare. "You will never marry my daughter. The very idea is unthinkable to me."
With a wide shrug of his hands, Dáin gestured angrily. "If you do not accept these terms – mine and my kinsman's – then the deal is off!" He glared at Thorin and Bard in turn. "You will have to look for food and soldiers somewhere else!"
Kili sat back in his chair. He felt exhausted already and he hadn't even played a role in the discussion. Still, he hoped they would ditch the deal – the whole meeting had been a cavalcade of bad calls as far as he was concerned, and starting from scratch was the best idea that he'd heard all morning. He glanced over at his brother, and saw that he had gone quite pale.
The dark-haired woman, however, seemed amused. "I thought, my lords, that you dwarven nobles regarded me and my people as zver? So what's changed for you now? Is it the prospect of stealing – sorry, inheriting – the gold of the people of Laketown? Or is it just because you think Bard's daughter is better looking than all your bearded ladies?"
Bolli shrugged smugly. "I'm just doing my best to fit in with Thorin's new culture at court. If it's good enough for the king and queen of Erebor, then why not the king and queen of Laketown?"
But the present king of Laketown was still glaring icily at Bolli. "She will never agree to it. And I will never ask her to."
Thorin snorted. "Come on, Bard! We will have nothing to eat over winter, and no protection from the orcs, if we can make no deal." He met the man's grey eyes directly. "I know you love your daughter. But what do you think she would say to this? Do you think she would wish to see her friends and family go hungry, so she could marry a different stranger? She must know that as the king's daughter she has certain obligations to her people. " Thorin sat back, and closed his eyes. "She will just have to accept it as Fili has done."
"You leave me out of this." Kili heard his brother warn.
But Thorin ignored him. "You know what I say is true, Bard."
All eyes turned on the man, as he sat with his fists balled in rage on the table. The decision on the deal was down to him, and whether he would sacrifice his daughter for their collective benefit.
Finally Bard reached some kind of inner decision. "Very well," he growled at the brown-bearded dwarf, "you may marry my daughter – but only if she agrees to the marriage herself. She is a free woman and can choose her own destiny. As my heir."
Bolli smiled, pleased with himself, and Dáin nodded regally. "Then we have a deal."
Kili looked up, expectantly. Did this mean the meeting was over? Were they free to go now?
Balin, who had been keeping minutes, met Kili's gaze and shook his head in displeasure, and Kili raised his eyebrows at the old dwarf in agreement. Checking on the others, he saw his brother was sitting with his head in his hands, while Bard remained fixed in position with his wide, angry blue eyes glaring at Bolli. Even Gandalf appeared rather unsettled by the proceedings.
With a scrape of his chair, Thorin rose to his feet once more. "Thank you all for your attendance, my friends. We have reached an agreement that will keep our kingdoms safe and secure for the foreseeable future. I know these terms will fall harder on some of you, than on others..." His eyes dropped to his heir apparent once more, "and I thank you all for your understanding of the delicate situation we find ourselves in." He looked around, wondering if there would be any last minute dissent at the decisions. "If nobody has anything to add, then you are all dismissed."
Kili heard the sliding of chairs as everyone made to leave the room at once. All except his brother, who sat stiffly, eyes still downcast. Kili felt a knot of concern, and scrambled over to his brother's side. "Fili? What's wrong?"
But the blond dwarf just stared up at him miserably. "Let's get out of here, Kili. I need to get away from this place."
Kili nodded, and took his brother's arm as he rose unsteadily to his feet. "Let's go. I need to talk to you about something. I have an idea..."
As they turned to leave the room, and filed past their uncle, the two brothers said nothing. Thorin watched as the pair of them walked past, a look of sorrow on his face. "Fili," he called softly, "I'm sorry about the way things turned out for you. I have meant no disrespect."
Kili saw his brother nod, but the look on his face was cold. "Thank you, my lord."
And as the two dwarves turned towards the door, Kili caught sight of the dark-haired woman standing by his uncle's side and shuddered in himself. She was staring at Fili's back with her wide, dark eyes, her mouth curled into a crooked smile that barely concealed her sneer of envy.
We need to do something about her before it's too late!