The morning dawned bright and sunny. It looked to be another hot day. Hrafn knocked on his cousin's door. After several moments, Torsten opened it.
"Ready?" Hrafn asked.
"Almost, come on in." Thorsten turned around and went back to his bed, where several items of clothes were laid out. He put on his over tunic and formal coat. "It's too hot for these things."
Hrafn nodded, "I agree. Maybe we can lose them once we start our meeting. I guess we'll see how the king is dressed."
"Hraf? Do you feel exposed in these wooden rooms? Like you're not entirely safe?" Torsten asked as he wheeled his way to the door. He picked up his sword and strapped it in place on the back of his chair.
"Yeah, I do. I feel like anything could come crashing through the wall or that a strong wind might blow it over," Hrafn replied.
"I hear Gondor's made of stone, built right into the side of a mountain. Maybe we should visit there next," Torsten grinned.
They found their way to the main hall. Tables with food were set out, but the King hadn't arrived yet. They waited, chatting quietly until Eomer walked in with a beautiful woman at his side and a young man just behind them. Everyone in the hall bowed to the king.
"Prince Hrafn and Prince Torsten, may I introduce my wife, Queen Lothiriel and my son, Elfwine. My dears, these are Prince Hrafn, son of Fili, King of Erebor and Prince Torsten, son of Kili, Crown Prince of Erebor."
They all bowed to each other. The queen had long, brown hair and a beautiful face with delicate features. The boy had his mother's dark hair, but otherwise looked much like his father.
Hrafn wasn't good at guessing the ages of men, but he could tell Elfwine was older than a child, but not yet an adult. Hrafn guessed the lad was born after the War of the Ring, which made him younger than sixteen; a young child in dwarf years, but he knew his mother had been old enough to marry his father when she was just nineteen, so the lad was nearing adulthood, but not there just yet.
Eomer directed the princes where they were to sit, on his left side while his wife and son sat on his right. They chatted amiably. The queen was very interested in the day to day life in Erebor. Torsten kept noticing the young prince's gaze at him and his chair. Back at home, everyone knew about Torsten and his chair and no one batted an eye at it, but he was painfully aware of the stares from strangers the few times he had left Erebor or when they had guests at the mountain who did not know Torsten. Most of the time, it annoyed him, the way they stared, but with children, he was more tolerant.
He nodded at the boy. "You are free to ask," he simply said.
Elfwine blushed a bit, but he did not back away from asking the question that burned in his mind. "Excuse me, Prince Thorstein?"
"It's Torsten," he corrected the youth.
"I'm sorry. Prince Torsten, why do you sit in a rolling chair?" he asked.
Lothiriel turned a dark shade of red and Eomer looked ready to yell something at the boy, but Torsten held up his hand.
"It's quite alright. It's better to ask me in person that sneak about trying to get answers from someone who doesn't know. Sixteen years ago, there was a battle on the slopes of Erebor, my home. Prince Hrafn and I fought alongside our fathers and hundreds of our kin against orcs and goblins, twice our number. I was hit in the side by a very hard club that threw me from where I stood. A hit like that isn't usually a big injury to a dwarf, but I landed badly and broke my back. When I awoke, I could no longer feel or move my legs."
The boy gasped, enthralled and horrified by Torsten's story. And Torsten was giving him the clean, un-gory version. He had actually landed on a dead orc, who was still holding his ax. The ax embedded itself right into Torsten's back, literally cutting off all feeling in his legs.
"I couldn't walk or move my legs anymore, so my cousin, Hrafn, here and my younger brother, Iomhar, designed this chair for me. Now I can get just about anywhere I want to go," Torsten smiled.
"Do you sleep in it?" Elfwine asked.
"Only when I'm bored," Torsten chucked. "Otherwise, I sleep in my bed at night. Same as you do."
"How do you get in bed? Does your mother or father help you?"
Torsten smiled. "They used to help me, but now I can do it on my own. My arms are strong and I can lift and move myself into and out of bed. You should try it sometime."
"Try what?" the young man-prince asked.
"Set a chair right next to your bed. Sit on the chair and then try and get into bed without using your legs."
"I'm going to try that tonight," Elfwine said.
Once breakfast was over, the King and two dwarf Princes moved to another section of the great hall where a map was spread out over the table. They sat together, going over the map. The two dwarves learned a great deal about Rohan and Gondor. They were particularly interested in the beacons used by the Rohirrim and Gondorians to alert each other to trouble and request aid. They explained they had something similar with Dale, but it only involved one beacon per kingdom. They talked about implementing something similar between Erebor and the Iron Hills and Eomer was happy to explain some of the logistics of keeping so many beacons over such long distances.
As they began the second week of their stay in Edoras, they welcomed a very unexpected visitor. It was their own cousin Gimli and his friend, the elf, Legolas.
"Ah ha!" the fiery red headed dwarf called out. "I heard there were some dwarves visiting Edoras, but never did I expect to see my royal cousins here!"
"Gimli!" Hrafn greeted. "We haven't see you in Erebor in ages."
"Last we heard of you, you were forming a new home for dwarves in a cave of sorts. Even took some of our own people, right out of Erebor," Torsten grinned.
"Yes, and they are doing very well," Gimli laughed.
"I was sorry to hear of the passing of your father last year," Hrafn said. "I know the Adads were very fond of Gloin." Hrafn and Torsten often referred to their fathers as 'the Adads', rather than Adad and Uncle.
Gimli's eyes grew sad and he lowered his head. "Yes, but he lived a good, long life, fought honorably in many battles and died peacefully in his home in the Glittering Caves."
"May he find peace in the Halls of Mandos," Torsten said.
"Well, now, what brings you two all the way out here?" Gimli asked.
"An invitation from King Eomer," Hrafn answered.
Eomer nodded his head. "Are you three really cousins?" Eomer asked.
"To some degree," Gimli answered. "We share a great-grandfather."
"But, our fathers grew up with Gimli in Ered Luin," Torsten explained.
"May I ask, and forgive me if I am very rude, but the three of you are so very different in looks and height for being kin," Eomer spoke.
"Ah, yes, well, we would," Hrafn said. "Gimli here, like our fathers, is pure dwarf, where as I am half human and Torsten is half elf. My mother was Lady Sigrid, daughter of the first King of Dale, Bard, the Dragon Killer."
"And my mother is Tauriel, formerly of the Woodland Realm, where Legolas is from." Torsten explained.
Legolas had a sorrowful look on his face. "She was my very good friend before the dwarves came along. She was a captain in my father's guard." He looked at Tauriel's son. "You don't look much like her," he said in not the most friendliest of voices.
Torsten was very aware of the feelings that ran deep in his dwarven family and especially between his parents and Legolas. He tried hard not to be offended. "You should meet my brother, Iomhar. He takes after mother in looks, is the tallest of her children, and is the best archer in Erebor, save our parents only. I think you would like him."
"Perhaps I will have the pleasure of meeting him, one day," Legolas said stiffly.
"The invitation to Gimli to visit Erebor is always open. As Gimli's friend, and as Mother's friend, you are welcome too. I know Mother would enjoy seeing you again. She has often spoken of you and her years in the Woodland Realm with fondness," Torsten said.
"Thank you," Legolas was genuinely surprised. He had met Torsten several time when he was a young lad, still in his mother's arms, but now to see Tauriel's son, grown up, was quite a surprise. Had so many years passed? Legolas felt bad for not making an effort to see Tauriel over the years. He missed his good friend, and even Kili was likeable, for a dwarf, or at least tolerable. He actually like the dwarves of Erebor more than he let on. Certainly King Fili was better as a king and ally than Thorin had ever been. Perhaps it was time to give them a chance again.
"Enough of this," Gimli laughed heartily. "Let's have some ale!"
Eomer laughed. "We always keep a couple of extra barrels for your visits, Master Dwarf."
After several drinks, they were all laughing and talking together like old friends.
"Never," Gimli burped, "Never get into a drinking contest with this elf." He pointed a finger at Legolas. Hrafn grinned, but Legolas looked surprised. "He's a terrible loser," Gimli laughed.
Eomer burst out laughing. He had been there for that drinking contest and he knew the truth of what happened. Legolas had only quit the drinking contest after Gimli passed out cold on the floor.
"How long are you here for?" Gimli asked Hrafn.
"Another week."
"You should come to the Glittering Caves before you return home. You would be most welcomed," Gimli threw his arms wide open.
"Thank you for the offer. I am," Hrafn hiccupped," quite agreeable to the detour, provided Torsten is."
"Of course he will be," Gimli said. "Won't you, Cousin Torsten?"
"What?" Torsten was pulled away from his conversation with Legolas about good materials for arrow making.
"Come visit the Glittering Caves before going back to Erebor!" Gimli yelled.
"Oh, yes. Sure." Torsten turned back to Legolas.
"See?" Gimli said. "It's settled. You come to the Glittering Caves with Legolas and me," Gimli burped and slapped Hrafn on the back.
Hrafn had joked with Gimli at the flamboyant name of the Glittering Caves, but soon found the name to be most apt. The caves did glitter and they were beautiful. There were dwarves from all over who had come to settle here, but at least half of them had come from Erebor and Hrafn enjoyed meeting up with old friends and acquaintances. Many had also come from the Blue Mountains and knew his father very well.
Hrafn and Torsten were treated to a great feast upon their arrival. On their second day there, they were introduced to a family of rank from Ered Luin. Lord Fuldan and Lady Luda had been blessed most unusually with three daughters. The two eldest were married and each expecting their first dwarflings, but the youngest daughter, Agli, was only a few years past her majority. She was very beautiful with her copper colored hair and perfectly curvy body. Torsten was practically drooling over the lovely dwarrowdam.
During dinner that night, Hrafn noticed his cousin never took his eyes off the lovely Agli. "Ask her to go on a walk," Hrafn whispered to his love-struck cousin.
"What? I don't know what you're talking about," Torsten pulled his gaze away from the lass and studied his fork.
"Oh, come on, Tor. You've been staring at her since we were introduced to her. Go over there and ask her to go on a walk."
"Are you trying to be funny?" Torsten turned a dark gaze to Hrafn. He was angry with his cousin for the suggestion and more angry with himself for not hiding his interest in the lass better.
"Don't be like that, Tor. You know what I mean. Ask her if she can give you a tour since you are only just newly arrived here."
"I can't do that," Torsten hissed.
"You're a Prince. You can do anything," Hrafn elbowed his cousin in the side. "Just go and talk to her. Say hello. As her if she prefers axes or swords, gems or flowers, talk about the very hot weather and the joys of living in a mountain. Anything!" Hrafn whispered loudly.
"She won't be interested in a dwarf who can't walk," Torsten whispered.
Hrafn knew Torsten had deep insecurities. He often forgot about them because he didn't see anything unusual about Torsten at all. He was Torsten, his best friend and cousin. For many years, Torsten seemed fine with his disability, but after he reached adulthood, he had become more insecure. At first Hrafn couldn't understand why, but then the he realized that Torsten was afraid no female could ever love him.
"Just try, Tor. Try and talk to her. If she doesn't give you the time of day, then you don't want to be with her anyway. The worst thing that can happen is she says no and we are off on our way back to Erebor in five days. Go on."
Torsten squeezed his hands together a few times before he put down his fork and rolled over to Agli's side. Hrafn watched as Torsten re-introduced himself. Agli bowed from her seat with a smile. They started talking. Hrafn couldn't hear anything, but they were both smiling and laughing. That's a good sign, Hrafn grinned.