Setting Aside Hatred

"The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them." –Ernest Hemingway

Kili stepped back inside of Erebor's halls, feeling happy to be home from his little adventure with Bard that had somehow lasted a week. However, upon entrance he found that his home... Wasn't quite the same that he had left it. Silver and Blue banners hung from the sides of the walls with the symbol of Erebor upon them, and some had a picture of a dragon on them. They caught sunlight streaming from the windows above the door, or from the torches. Kili shook himself free of gawking at the banners and began searching for his mother.

He walked into the throne room to find no one, which bothered him. Then, instead of Dís, he found Fili sitting on a bench rubbing his face with a cloth. He had never seen his brother look so haggard before. He walked up to Fili, who stared up at him with a grin on his face. Quickly, he was being embraced by his older brother tightly; so tight that he felt his bones might snap.

"Missed me?" Kili asked patting Fili on the back.

Fili pulled away, letting out a tired laugh. "You have no idea," Fili breathed. "Amad is going to be the death of me."

Kili tipped his head to the side. "How is Amad going to do that when she isn't present?"

"Give her a few minutes. She's a on a rampage right now, and Uncle and I have decided to stay out of her war path." Fili grimaced. "However, she seems to have a tracking device on me that somehow tells her where I am at all times. It's disturbing."

"That's called maternal instinct, my dear boys," Dís' voice said coolly. Kili's blood froze in his veins when he swiveled his gaze back to his mother, who was standing before them with her arms crossed. "When you have children, you will understand."

Fili let out sigh of defeat, falling back onto his bench. "Kili gets to do whatever you need." Kili's mouth went agape at his brother's statement, and while his mother dragged him off, he shot a dirty glare at Fili. The older brother just wiggled his fingers at him in goodbye while he sat on his bench.

"Hi Amad," Kili said sweetly as she dragged him by his collar. Dís patted his head with one hand, but did not let go. He started thinking of ways to weasel his way out of having to do whatever little tricks his mother wanted. She could've gotten Ori to do it easily. All you need to do it bribe him with ale and sweetrolls. "What'cha need me to do?"

"I need you to climb up somewhere for me." Dís stated. Kili's heart fell out of his chest. "It's not that high, I guarantee you'll be safe."

My mother is slowly losing her ever loving mind. Why can't we just, oh I don't know, ignore it! Damn it….

"Didn't you say that once, and Fili broke his arm?"

Dís dropped his collar. "That was one time, one!" Dís tossed Kili a rope, pointing upward to a high ledge. He started to climb up the rocks, feeling slightly uneasy about climbing so high. Then again, just about anywhere was high for him. He was an archer meant for climbing high, but not like this… He tied the rope around a jutted rock, tugging once to make sure it was secure, and then clambered back down. Dís gave him a bright smile. "And you said you couldn't do it."

Kili scuffed the floor with his boot. "Ok, ok, caught me."

She embraced her son tightly. "Now, you stay with your brother, and do not get in my way. Understand?" Kili nodded. "Good, we only have a day and a half left."

Why did that day seem to take longer and longer to get here? It must be torture for Thorin and worse for Coruwen, who had to take up the mantle as Queen under the Mountain. Kili walked down the steps of the corridor, his thoughts plundering his mind like a pack of wild dogs. By the Maker, he felt horrible. There was a feeling that twisted his gut painfully, and distracted him easily. Whatever was causing it; he didn't like. He came to sit beside Fili, who gave his hair an affectionate ruffle.

Brothers, something one can't seem to live without.

Thorin leaned heavily against Orcrist before he swung at Balin again. There was a certain anxiety that had been plaguing him that made his ability to focus go south for a spell. It had been a long time since he had sparred against Balin, in fact he felt a bit slow against the old warrior. His swings were timed poorly forcing him backwards on several counts, which only made his frustration grow. Balin rolled his wrist that held his sword before sheathing it.

"What's wrong, laddie? You've never been this out of focus," Balin questioned offering his king a hand. Thorin's side gave out a painful jolt when he stood back up to his full height. He sheathed Orcrist, feeling the ring of the elven steel race up the hilt. Balin smiled with a sly glint in his eye. "You're nervous, aren't you?"

Thorin looked up at Balin, and then it veered elsewhere. "I suppose I am," Thorin admitted. He had never felt nerves wrack him like this. It felt foreign to his mind. "I have been unable to focus, all of my thoughts venture off into the void."

"That's called being nervous, and one should be if they were marrying someone like our dear Coruwen." Balin chuckled. Thorin felt as if the old warrior was playing a game with him. He wasn't up for a game right now; he needed help. As king, the inability to focus became your downfall rather easily. The king gave the warrior a half hearted glare. "You feel like you'll let her down?"

"No," Thorin clasped his sword's hilt tightly in his hands. "She is an elf still, meaning that one day I will perish, and she will keep living. I cannot change her race. This problem has been haunting me for the previous nights and days, never leaving my mind."

Balin sighed. "Thorin, you're over thinking things again. Coruwen may be an elf, so what? It doesn't matter." The dwarf's words made the king's gaze rise. "You are marrying a most beautiful jewel. She loves you; I can see it when she looks at you. And you love her just as much, no doubt."

He clasped Balin's shoulder in a firm grip. "And I have fought too hard to keep her as mine."

"Exactly, and your sister is driving everyone insane because she wants you to be happy. I know you can do it; you need only focus on what's coming. Let Dwalin and I deal with our kin; they surely will understand." Balin walked away from him, casting a wink over his shoulder. "After all, the two of you will be the first marriage under this great mountain since your father married your mother. That has to count for something."

The elder disappeared into the mountain's depths once more leaving Thorin outside on a plateau. He sighed and sat on a rock, running a hand across his face when stress took him over. Balin was right; he was marrying a beautiful woman, who he had been silently waiting for nearly two hundred years. He mentally chastised himself for doubting his heart's decision. He heard footsteps on the stone path leading out to the plateau, making him stand.

Much to his surprise, he saw Coruwen standing before him with a curved blade in her hands. She must've not noticed him for she twirled the blade in her left hand making her wince. He had forgotten about her arm; that injury had happened when he had despised her. How could he believe that he had done that to the woman he ended up loving? Thorin's hands tightened around Orcrist.

Thorin watched Coruwen swing the blade in graceful arcs and she twirled the hilt with two fingers, letting the silver flicker in the limited sunlight. There was a hitch in her left hand that prohibited her from raising it above her head, she would let out a low curse in her mother language as a result if the pain became too much. After one twirl of the blade in her left hand, it clattered out of her hand as she panted. He took a step near her, gently picking up the blade. This blade was built like a long knife, meant for short blows unlike his blade that was meant for cleaving monsters and, in some cases, people.

Thorin knelt before Coruwen, brushing aside strands of her gold hair se he could look at her face. Her eyes were shut as she shook with pain. Gingerly, he cupped her face in one hand making her eyes open. She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"How long have you been there?" Coruwen breathed.

"I've been watching you since you came out here," Thorin said into her ear as she relaxed and went limp in his arms. She was still shaking as she rested against him. "Your arm is a mess, sadly."

"I hate it," She growled. "I hate that I cannot lift anything with it, I can barely pull back a bowstring, and I cannot embrace you as tightly." Coruwen pulled away from him looking into his eyes. Anger and sadness thrashed together in her blue eyes. "All that I ever loved is broken because of my damned arm."

Before she could speak more, Thorin placed a finger on her lips to hush her. "I see nothing wrong in your arm. Granted, what elven pride you had is destroyed, but your arm is a symbol that anyone can live such hard times."

Coruwen removed his hand, the anger igniting her blue eyes. "Telling me that I cannot pull back a bowstring anymore is like telling you to give away your place as king! We each have our own pride-,"

Thorin let her words sink in a bit, but he placed his hand on either side of her face. Coruwen met his eyes, and deep within he was willing her to be quiet. The elleth silenced immediately with wide eyes. "There is little we can do to fix it, Coruwen. I know it bothers you, and if I could fix your arm I would. The Goblin King may have ripped your arm, but Gandalf saved you from a life of quite possibly never having an arm."

"Thorin…" She rested her forehead against his. "I-I am so confused… I am torn."

"Why are you torn?" He stroked the sides of her face with the back of his hand, feeling her lean into his gentle touch. She shook her head forcing gold strands fall in her eyes. "Coruwen, tell me."

"I have been thinking…" Thorin mentally sighed, knowing those words meant that she was going to say something idiotic. "I feel as though I am not fit to be yours. I feel as if there is someone more suited than I to be your queen."

"Stop speaking nonsense." He said firmly. She flinched beneath his grip, trying to rip away but he held her still. He looked her in the eyes, seeing the swimming fear and doubt in her eyes. Balin had spoken to him about her recent boughts of doubt. "You are my chosen, and no other can replace you in my heart. I love you, and why you doubt yourself I have no idea, but it has been dumbfounding me."

He kissed her lips softly reinforcing his point. He spoke again. "I have the most beautiful jewel in all of Erebor. She will become mine in a matter of days, and I will be hers. Her rightful place as queen is second nature to her, but she cannot see it through a bank of fog."

Coruwen gave him a watery smile, her eyes becoming glossy with tears. Her arms laced around his neck in a tight embrace. She was so emotional nowadays, that was no doubt caused by stress. He stroked her hair with his fingers running through her silky hair. Though no tears fell, Coruwen shook in sadness. This was no ordinary sadness; it was fueled by confusion. Her hands pushed on his shoulders as she pulled away from him. Thorin reached up and traced her pointed ears with gentle fingertips.

"Do not cry, love," The king soothed. "I am here for you, if you ever need me."

The elleth kissed his cheek fleetingly before standing. When she left him, all of the nervousness sparked into a wildfire in his chest. Using Orcrist, he stood as Grimbolt and a guard came running up the steps, both out of breath.

"What's wrong?" Thorin asked, looking between the guard and Grimbolt. Coruwen heard the two and walked over to Thorin, resting her hand on his shoulder. "Grimbolt…"

"Elf-host… Outside," Grimbolt panted. He pointed towards the gates, in which Coruwen and Thorin both darted towards the gates in search of the cause of the sudden appearance of elves. Upon reaching the high perch of the gate, one only saw two horses with their riders dismounted.

The flash of silver-blonde hair made Coruwen's heart stop. She blocked Thorin's view of the Elvenking by leaning over the side of the rail. The second figure Thorin knew as Naruhel, a healer woman from Mirkwood.

Wait a second, Mirkwood?

Anger boiled in his veins knowing who the other horse belonged to. He mushed Coruwen aside to see Thranduil looking up at him. The Elvenking's presence bothered Thorin to no end. He gritted his teeth and allowed them inside. Much bitterness had grown between the Elf and Dwarf kings. The only thing Thorin ever thanked Thranduil for was saving his beloved from death. Aside from that, Thranduil could have been eaten by a pack of wargs and he wouldn't care. Coruwen had run down the steps to greet Thranduil and Naruhel. The elleth greeted the king with a hug, which mildly startled him. Naruhel curtsied to Thorin, who in turn bowed his head to her. At least one of those confounded elves had a sense of place.

There was rapid Sindarin being spoken between the three as they walked off, and Thorin felt as if he had just lost Coruwen to her people. It was beginning to rekindle old hatred for elves and their secrecy. Granted, Coruwen had been kind enough to teach him bits of her language, but they never truly stuck in his head. He had learned the language as a boy; once again Thorin rarely listened.

When he had tried to follow them, he had found they had disappeared into a room. Irritation brooded within him as he walked off to his room to find the door open, and from within his sister's voice could be heard along with Dwalin's. Mahal, help him…

"Dís!" Thorin shouted as he stood in the doorway. The princess dropped an oaken box onto the floor, luckily not dropping its contents. Dwalin gave him an incline of his head before walking out of the room, knowing when trouble was brewing. Thorin's tone dropped to a low growl. "What are you doing in my room?"

Dís picked up her dropped box, dusting off the top revealing the carved crest of Durin upon it. Instantly, all anger departed him as Dís handed him the box. "If you do not want it, give it back," Dís said shortly. Thorin shook his head as he pried the box's top open. Within the box, sat the crown of his forefathers, though the silver was tarnished, the jewels glittered in the light. "Bofur and Bifur found it in the mines."

No words came to Thorin; all he could do was pull his sister into a tight hug. Dís smiled, patting his back softly. Upon pulling away, her fingers curled around the top, closing the box. "Mine for now," Dís said with a fox like grin. She snatched it away from him before fleeing from the room quicker than he had ever seen his sister move. Damn it all he was confused.

"Dís, what am I going to do with you?" Thorin muttered, rolling his eyes.

Coruwen wound her fingers into the folds of her dress with a growing pang of nervousness in her chest. Naruhel came back from her bedroom, closing the door to keep any unwanted eyes out. The red head was oddly giddy since she had arrived with Thranduil. The healer sat in a chair with a bright smile on her face that made Coruwen give her small one in return. There was something about Naruhel that was infectious. She could brighten up anyone's day in matter of seconds with just one beaming smile. However, something bothered Coruwen.

Where was the princeling?

Coruwen's gaze fell on Thranduil, who was watching the flames that burned in the fireplace blankly. The red and dark orange changed his silver blonde hair to the color of Legolas' almost; it was rather odd to behold in fact. Anxiety tore at Coruwen's spirit as she sat in silence with the two elves, and the only elves that accepted her now. Her heart gave out a spike of massive pain at the sound of that.

"Thranduil," Coruwen started, looking at the Elvenking. The ellon's gaze snapped to hers at the sound of his name. "Where is Legolas?"

Thranduil smiled softly, "Home, where he won't cause trouble." The Elvenking laughed to himself. "I know that the two of you don't get along…"

"I don't mind him, but I do agree with you. The boy is more trouble than he's worth." Coruwen agreed as she twirled one gold wave. She caught the look in Thranduil's eyes, longing was in them. What was bothering him? "Is something the matter?"

The king leaned on the heel of his hand, shaking his head. Naruhel and Coruwen weren't buying that trick for one second. Coruwen stood and walked up to Thranduil, kneeling before him so she could see his eyes. There was a pain in his eyes that wasn't being masked, a deeply etched pain. A love scar had formed on his heart, which showed brilliantly before Coruwen. Reaching up, she tucked a long strand of silver hair behind his ear. The king looked at her with the scar making his eyes become watery.

Thranduil wasn't the type to break. In fact, he wore such a hard mask of blank emotion; one rarely ever saw this side of him.

"Naruhel, leave us for a bit," Thranduil ordered, not looking at the elleth he mentioned. The healer slinked out of the room at his order. The king took the side of Coruwen's face, looking down at her like she was his own child. "I know what happened to you, my dear."

Coruwen gave him a stern glare. "That is not what's bothering you," She said.

The king hung his head. "You're right, it's not…" He leaned back into his chair, hiding his hands in his long sleeves. "Will you let me tell you a story?"

"I'm not an elfling," Coruwen grumbled as she sat beside him.

"It is no story for children…" His voice broke a bit. "You wore that dress earlier and I saw my wife in your stead." Thranduil held her gaze for a moment. "My wife left these shores when Elrond's wife did earlier in the Third Age. But you remind me of her, physically."

"Thranduil, why are you-?"

"Because, the little raven told me that you doubt yourself to become queen, Coruwen." His voice snapped into a stern demeanor, and then sank back down to a melancholy again. "My wife did the same for she was of Silvan descent. She did not believe in herself until matters pushed her too far. You and my wife are the few that have queenly nature in your blood." He looked into the flames again. "You need only look for it… It is there, I have seen it. It comes out at odd times…"

"Odd times?"

"When you defied my order and returned to the mountain many months ago. There was a certain look in your eye when you bit your tongue that I knew all too well."

The words hung in the air with silence unable to scream above it. No, only the snapping whips of flames could be heard. Coruwen took a deep breath, feeling his words sink into her mind. Thorin and Balin believed in her to become a queen, and so did Thranduil. Maybe destiny is a forced path… It surely seemed that way in her eyes. She gave a slow nod, patting Thranduil's hand.

"What happened to your wife, if I may ask?" Coruwen inquired. Thranduil let out a sigh, running a hand across his eyes. "You do not have to tell me if it is too painful. But your worry and melancholy is bothering me greatly."

The king smiled faintly. "That is the story I was going to tell you…" He moved her hand up to his wrist where she could feel his pulse. "Legolas is not an only child; in fact he had an older brother. His brother was a kind soul, an awful lot like his mother. He had a fatal accident one day, and died in his mother's arms-,"

The sentence broke off as Thranduil took a breath. His voice was cracking in emotion as he spoke. Whatever happened was traumatic enough to frighten a man like Thranduil.

"Legolas was so small… And didn't understand death quite yet. He was wondering why his brother wouldn't wake up as his mother wept over our lost son. I had to remove Legolas before he completely understood what all had happened to his brother. Shortly after that incident, my wife had mental scarring and ventured to the Grey Havens with Celebrian where they left these shores for Valinor."

"I'm sorry, my lord."

"The memory's strength has long since been removed from my mind, but losing my eldest was a bit too hard…" Thranduil took her hand in his, and their gazes met. "Promise me that if you ever have children; that you will keep them safe. They are far more precious than anything on this good earth, and you do not realize such until they have slipped away from you."

Coruwen nodded to him. "I promise, Thranduil."

"Good girl," The king's hand slipped out of hers as he stood. "I have one more thing for you." He walked over to the mantle and withdrew a light blonde wooden box with a glossy top. He knelt before her, motioning for her to open it with gentle nod. Her fingers pried the golden lock free and opened it to reveal two Evenstar pendants, shining like the great Star Kindler herself.

"Thranduil, you have given me enough," Coruwen said gently.

"You have no one right now, my dear. Tis the least I can do," Thranduil told her shutting the box. "They are for you and your betrothed. Considering how short lived dwarves are compared to us."

"It will not prolong Thorin's life…."

"No, not unless an elf gave up the Life of the Eldar to the pendants," He set the box back onto the mantle. "It is a tricky business… You have to state that you are willing to give it up before the person you choose. Lúthien did it by dancing for Mandos, but he's a bit hard to reach…"

Give it up… Before the person you choose.

The thought made Coruwen look up at the mantle and then at the floor. It was a thought… It was very plausible.

Kili sat on the steps of the throne with Fili beside him and Sol in his lap. Thorin was silently seething at the fact that elves had come into his domain, again. Dís was busy calming him to the best of her ability, but it ended up that she called on Balin to help. It was now becoming a team effort to calm Thorin. They had corralled Gloín into the fray, thus allowing Sol into the room, and they also called on Dwalin. Kili dreaded who they would call on next.

And that is why he and Fili were staying out of it.

Sol was cradled against his chest asleep with her red hair covering her face, and her fist curled in his shirt. Why did it have to be him? Fili had laughed when Sol had fallen asleep on him, but Kili only glared at him in warning. In truth, he thought Sol was cute. She was like a sister to him now. If he did something out of line, she scolded him, and the gesture was returned. Lately, she had been scolding Fili whenever he would do something stupid.

"You think they calmed down yet?" Fili whispered, giving his brother a shifty glance. A loud bang was heard and Fili sighed.

"Nope, I do not," Kili replied, holding back a snicker. "We almost need Coruwen here to calm Uncle."

"Yeah, I'm not going to go find her with Thranduil here," Fili muttered, lowering his gaze to the floor. "Freya?"

Kili's eyes widened, "Hell no."

"We should go see her… I'm feeling a bit guilty that we haven't talked to her lately."

"Well, I would love to," Kili gave him a forced grin. "But I seem to have this, uh, small rock on my chest right now."

Fili chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh for the love of-. I carried you around like that."

"Yeah, so?"

"So, all you need to do is give her a piggy back ride, brainless squirrel."

Kili pouted. "Why can't you do it?"

"Kili..." Fili stood, rotating his neck. "She's a little girl; they don't have germs or something stupid like that." He gave him a snide look. "That is unless you're scared."

Agitation boiled in Kili's blood as Fili taunted him. He swatted the air as he stood. "Fine, fine, I'll do it. Just hold her for a second," Fili scooped up Sol, who fought hard to keep a hold of Kili's tunic but pried her off him. Kili stood and let Fili put Sol on his back so they could visit Freya.

The two walked out into one of the many corridors and then took a door that led to a low path, leading up to an old watchtower. Sol never once fidgeted, or wiggled, she stayed perfectly still until the boys reached the top of the tower where Freya's head sat eye to eye.

"Freya!" Fili yelled. The dragoness swiveled her gaze over to them, and Kili's heart leapt in his chest. To this day, he was still frightened by her. The dragoness' sigil pupil was enveloping a large amount of her amber eyes as she gazed at the boys. "Hello, Great One."

"Ah, Little Heirs, hello," Freya greeted nudging their hands with the tip of her scaly nose. Her scales were rough, but it certain places they felt like polished river rocks. Freya was such a complex creature. "What brings you up here?"

"Escaping," Kili said flatly. Fili gave him a swift punch in the shoulder for that.

"Well, kind of… Uncle's angry," Fili told her leaning on the side of the rock wall. Freya let out a rumble that sounded like rolling thunder. "What's so funny?"

Kili stared at Fili in disbelief. That was a laugh? That surely was no laugh to him… It sounded like a bloody growl. How could Fili be so brave in front of a dragoness when she was watching him intently? His brother was a madman sometimes.

"Your uncle is a dragon in spirit, I swear," Freya chuckled. "He is upset because of two elves that have only come because they wish to see their kinswoman be married off…"

"If we could explain it to Thorin like that, he would not be angry like he is right now," Kili whispered. Freya's tail graced his face fleetingly, as if smoke had touched his face.

"Little Wolf, you are correct," Freya said sweetly. "Your Uncle must learn that elves mean no harm unless it is brought forth. Look at his lover for instance; she surely brings no harm to him."

"Yeah, but there was a time," Fili put in. "We luckily stopped him from killing her."

"And look what has become of them now. Soon to be married in merely a day," Freya lowered her head a bit, letting the moonlight catch the slick rosewood colored scales. "He should let others have a chance."

"Aye," The boys said together.

"You should get your little one back inside, Little Wolf. She will surely freeze up here," Freya stated. The dragon was right; Sol was shaking like a leaf. Fili took her in his arms and she cuddled into his coat. "I will be here if you need me, Little Wolf and Lion."

"Thanks, Freya," Kili said as he followed Fili down back into Erebor.

Once back inside, the yelling from earlier seemed to have quit because Thorin was back to pacing about his throne room. Dís was sitting on the steps before the throne, watching her brother with a tiny grimace on her face. Kili was wondering if they could sneak by without getting caught.

"Kili?" A little voice squeaked. He turned to see Sol's green eyes peering at him through her mane of red hair. She had a hold of the fur on Fili's coat. The coat was similar to the pelt of a lion now that Kili looked at it. Damn Freya and her nicknames… They were silly.

"Go back to sleep, Sol," Fili soothed stroking her head. The girl didn't fight sleep and snuggled back into the golden fur on the coat. Kili looked at his brother darkly. Fili wiggled his fingers at him, "Magic…"

"Magic, whatever," Kili scoffed motioning for Fili to keep watching. His brother laughed a bit and kept walking through the shadows of the pillars. Deep within his mind, Kili sent a small prayer to Mahal that Thorin would calm down since in a days' time he was going to have get over himself…

A/N: Huzzah, semi late! I'm getting back into it. So, if you guys could guess that day is arriving next chapter.

(Now, you're probably wondering where Bilbo is, we'll see him when Bard comes along.)

I will gladly take suggestions on what you guys wanna see; because hearing from all of you makes me so happy! So, please give me a review, or PM, and tell me what you wanna see!