Disclaimer: The Hobbit does not belong to me, but to Professor Tolkien, Peter Jackson, and his Company.

Gem of His Heart

The youngest heir of Durin took his wife's hand and moved down the hallway. "I do not think Uncle will approach Drifa. She is not of his station and he feels that she wronged him. You know as well as I do that Thorin holds a grudge."

"Kili, I really do not think…." Tauriel trailed off as she realized her husband was not listening.

"I will speak with him, and perhaps Fili will as well," Kili spoke quietly, yet with passion. "Uncle will never find true happiness unless he resolves things with Drifa."

Chapter 4

Kili managed to wait two days before he knocked on his brother's door. He knew he should leave Fili and his new bride alone, yet he needed his brother's help when he spoke to Thorin about Drifa.

Fili answered the door with a scowl carved into his handsome face. He wore his trousers, but he was shirtless, his powerful muscles rippling beneath his skin. "What do you want, Kili?"

"Hello to you, too, Brother," the youngest heir of Durin grinned. "I need you to talk to Uncle with me."

"About what?" Fili asked in confusion.

"Let me in; I do not want to discuss Thorin's business in the hallway for all to hear."

Fili sighed and stepped back to let his brother into the room.

Kili cast his gaze about and spied Sigrid sitting in a chair before the fire with a book in her lap. She smiled at her new brother-in-law and he grinned back.

"How is my brother treating you, dear sister?" Kili asked with a cheeky grin.

"Very well, thank you, brother," she replied as she closed her book.

"Why do you need me to help you talk to Uncle?" Fili pressed his brother. "What have you done?"

Kili blew out a breath in exasperation. "I have not done anything wrong. Uncle's lady is here in Erebor; I've seen her. She is beautiful, Fi, and I am sure that Uncle still loves her. We have to help him talk to her."

"We are not going to do any such thing, Kili," Fili told his brother in exasperation. "That is Uncle's business and we are staying out of it."

"Fili, you know how stubborn Uncle Thorin is," Kili protested.

"Aye, and you are just like him." Fili shook his head ruefully and moved to stand behind Sigrid, placing his hands on her shoulders. "You need to let Uncle handle things. You know he will not appreciate you meddling in his affairs."

"But Fili-,"

"No, Kili. You are not talking me into helping you this time. Leave Uncle alone."

"Mother would talk to him," Kili wheedled, placing his hands on his hips.

"But we are not our mother, Kili. She could say things to Uncle that no one else could."

"I know." Kili's dark eyes were sad. "But we have to try, do we not? We owe our mother and our uncle that much."

Fili ran a hand through his thick blonde hair. "I still do not think it is a good idea. Uncle knows his heart better than we do."

"Kili," Sigrid said softly as she rose to her feet, "I know that I am new to your family."

Fili took his wife's hand and threaded his fingers through hers.

"I think Fili is right about Thorin," Sigrid said tentatively. "I do not know your uncle well, but he seems to be very proud. I do not believe he would appreciate your concern in his affairs."

Kili studied the faces of his brother and sister-in-law for a moment before he nodded. "Very well."

Fili looked surprised. "That is it? Are you not going to argue further, Kili?"

The brunette shrugged. "Why should I waste my energy? I know that you will agree with your new wife." A grin quirked the edges of Kili's mouth showing he was not angry with his family.

Sigrid looked relieved while Fili only shook his head. "I worry about you, brother," the eldest heir of Durin sighed.

Kili headed for the door. "I will let you get back to one another, but if the opportunity presents itself to speak to Uncle I will take advantage of it."

Thorin swung his sword once more at Dwalin and his friend blocked him with a staggering blow. Recovering, Thorin lunged again and again only to be blocked. Both warriors finally called a truce in exhaustion. Thorin found his sword arm trembling and his legs felt like jelly. He dropped on the bench in the corner and placed his sword at his feet. Dwalin came to sit beside him.

"Did it help?" Thorin's friend asked softly.

"Did what help?" Thorin growled. He purposefully refused to understand Dwalin's question.

"Did sparring help you forget her?"

Thorin shoved his sweaty hair back from his face. "I do not know who you are talking about."

"Drifa, Thorin. She is the oliphant in the room these days where you are concerned."

The dwarf king lunged to his feet and snarled at Dwalin. "I do not wish to speak of her."

"Perhaps you should. All you do is growl and pout. Dain's family will be in Erebor at least another week. You should try talking to Drifa, find out why she really left."

"I have no need to speak to that woman," Thorin informed his friend as he swung his arm out angrily. "She did not care enough to stay. She chose to leave. I do not need to know any more than that."

"Are you sure that you do not?" Dwalin asked with one eyebrow raised.

"I am sure," Thorin told him, pushing to his feet and snatching his sword. Perhaps he would feel better after washing up in his quarters. "I will see you at dinner."

"Aye," Dwalin answered quietly as he watched Thorin leave.

Thorin stormed down the hall, sword in hand, as he made his way to his quarters. Why was it that no one would leave him alone about Drifa? Was the matter not between himself and the blonde servant? Fury welled in him and he felt the heat spread up his chest and into his face. He turned the corner and slammed into a smaller form which tumbled backwards to the floor, clothes scattering everywhere.

Thorin blinked and focused on the stunned blonde before him. "Drifa," he murmured. Of everyone in Erebor, why did he have to run into Drifa again?

"Are you injured?" he growled with barely controlled contempt.

"No, Your Majesty," she answered breathlessly as she pushed to her knees and began to gather the once neatly folded clothing.

Thorin's conscience pricked him, and he leaned Orcrist against the wall before bending to gather some of the clothing.

"Please, Your Majesty," Drifa said softly without raising her gaze, "do not trouble yourself."

"It is no trouble," Thorin sighed, his eyes trained on the shimmering blonde hair that fell over Drifa's shoulders. He found himself wondering if it was just as silky to the touch as it had been years ago.

She rose and hesitantly lifted her green eyes to meet his gaze. "Thank you, Your Majesty," she told him as she took the clothes he handed her.

He studied her face a moment before he nodded tersely, grasped his sword, and stormed off down the hallway. He knew there were many things he could have said, questions he should have asked, but at the moment he could not think of a one of them.

Drifa's face felt hot and she was sure it was a bright red as she watched Thorin thunder down the corridor. Why did she have to keep running into him? With a sigh she glanced down at the bundle of clothing in her arms. Now it would need to be washed once again.

Turning back the way she had come, she ambled slowly down the hallway lost in her thoughts. There was still something about Thorin that tugged at her heart strings every time she looked at him, but nothing could ever be between them. Thorin's family had made that very clear. Even though Thror and Thrain were now gone, it did not matter. Drifa was not good enough for Thorin; his recent behavior showed that he believed that to be true. No, she would do best to remember her place – lady's maid to Nal, wife of Dain Ironfoot. That was an honorable position for one of her standing, and she should be proud to hold it. Drifa was proud, only suddenly she found herself longing for so much more, someone that she could never, ever have.

Kili could not believe his fortune. His uncle was making his way to his office looking freshly bathed and groomed. A grin curved his lips; this was the perfect time to talk to Thorin about Drifa.

"Hello, Uncle," he greeted, undaunted when Thorin gave him a doleful look.

"What is it, Kili?" Thorin asked with a tired sigh. He only wanted to be left alone, not pestered by his youngest sister-son.

"I only need to speak with you on a matter, Uncle," Kili told him, hoping that Thorin would see his intrusion for the concern that it was.

"Come inside, then, if it will not take long. I have pressing work that I must see to immediately." Of course, he did not, but Kili had no need to be privy to that information.

Thorin settled himself behind his desk and Kili took the chair in front of him. Thorin stared at his nephew expectantly. "Well?" he questioned as he folded his hands before him on the desk.

"Uncle," Kili began hesitantly, suddenly unsure of himself now that Thorin's blue gaze was boring into him.

"Yes?" Thorin queried.

"Uncle, I am concerned about you."

Thorin frowned. "How so?"

"I only want you to be happy," Kili stammered, inwardly wincing at the awkward start to the conversation.

"And you are afraid I am not happy?" Thorin asked, totally confused as to where Kili was going with this.

"Uncle, you need to speak with Drifa," Kili blurted in a rush.

Thorin's mouth dropped open as he digested Kili's words. "Excuse me?"

"You need to work things out with Drifa before she leaves Erebor so that you can have some peace about the situation."

A scowl settled itself across Thorin's features. "And what do you know about myself and Drifa? You should worry about yourself and your wife, Kili; Drifa does not concern you."

"But you do!" Kili protested. "Uncle, you have been like my father my whole life. My own da died before I was born. I care about you, and you are miserable; anyone can see it. My mother would have known exactly what to say to you, but she is not here. I am, and I have to try to help you for her sake and yours."

Thorin studied Kili silently for a moment, watching as his sister-son chewed nervously on his bottom lip. "Kili, you are as a son to me, but Drifa does not concern you. I am happy with my life the way it is and I beg you not to interfere." He stood and nodded toward the door. "You are dismissed."

"But Uncle," Kili protested.

"Not another word on the matter, Kili," Thorin roared, "and do not bring up her name before me again." The dwarf king was practically seething with anger as he glared at his nephew.

The young dwarf prince gulped and nodded. He had truly angered his uncle. "Aye," he stammered as he stood and made his way to the door. Perhaps Fili was right; maybe he should have left Thorin and Drifa well enough alone.

Drifa finished her load of laundry for the second time that day. Thankfully, the furnaces in Erebor provided adequate heat to dry the clothes rather quickly. She folded the dresses and underthings belonging to Nal and steeled herself to venture into the hallway once again. She sent a prayer up to the Maker that she would not see Thorin on her journey up to her quarters.

Thankfully, this trip was made without incident. She soon had the clothes put away in Nal's chambers before she retired to her own. Quickly, she slipped into her nightclothes and stood before the looking glass as she brushed her hair. What, she wondered, did Thorin see when he looked at her face? She was no longer the young lass she had been in Erebor. Her face was fuller now and lines edged her eyes and mouth that she could not smooth away. Her hair still shone with health and it was long and full, but sadness lingered in her eyes even when she allowed a smile to touch her lips.

Her thoughts lingered back over the dwarf king. Though older, Thorin wore his age well. His hair was long and full. The streaks of gray only gave him a distinguished air. His eyes were still clear and blue, and his muscles bunched strong and healthy beneath his tunic.

A sigh escaped Drifa's lips. How she longed to know the feel of his arms around her once again. But then she remembered the anger she had nursed for years. She was not good enough; had never been good enough. She hugged her arms around herself and allowed her thoughts to wander.

Thorin's father stared at her with blue eyes the same shade as his son's, although Thrain's eyes did not hold the warmth of his son's. "You are not good enough for my son, a mere maid of our court," he nearly sneered at Drifa who cowered nervously before him.

She tried to square her shoulders while at the same time showing respect for Thorin's father. Fear made her stomach quake and she clenched her hands together to keep them from trembling.

"Thorin came to us last evening," Thrain continued as he motioned to his father beside him. "He wishes us to arrange a marriage for him with someone of his standing. You are to leave at once; he does not want the reminder of your presence."

Drifa's eyes snapped upward to Thrain's as a sound of disbelief left her lips. "What? No, he could not have said that," she gasped.

"Do not dare question us," Thor commanded, stepping up beside his son. "Pack your things. We have a group of travelers leaving for the Iron Mountains at dawn. You will join them."

Drifa stared at the king in shock. Thorin no longer wanted her. How could this be? Doubt prickled at her and she hurried back to her room, escorted by one of Thrain's guards.

Drifa shut the door behind her once she reached her quarters and allowed the tears to fall. What was happening? Would she really have to leave at break of day or would Thorin step in to save her? She dashed a tear from her cheek and sighed. Thorin. What if her dwarf prince truly wanted her gone so that he could court a princess or a woman of the court without her presence as a reminder of their former relationship?

A sob escaped her throat and then another. Drifa pressed a fist to her lips to muffle the sound. She had to speak to Thorin. She had to know if the words spoken by his father and grandfather were true.

She took a look around the room she had known as home for many years now. Her parents had died of illness when she was a young lass and thankfully, through a family friend, she had found a position with the royal house of Erebor. She had served them happily and faithfully, her only mistake being the moment she have her heart to the prince. What if she had to leave the only home she had behind?

With a heavy sigh, Drifa fell onto her bed and cried hot tears into her pillow. She dreaded the morrow, for she somehow knew it would bring nothing good.

Drifa shook herself from her reverie. She had been right all those years ago; the next day had been truly dreadful. In the early morning, she had slipped down to the stable courtyard hoping to meet Thorin. Instead, she had caught a glimpse of the dwarf prince and his family greeting an elaborate carriage. Thorin himself had been the one helping a young, nubile princess down the carriage steps.

Drifa had looked no more, determined to make the best of the path set before her. She had accepted the king's offer of a pony and left with the party for the Iron Hills that very day.

A sigh escaped her lips. Though that had been many years ago, the memory was still painful.

Drifa climbed beneath her crisp, white sheets and pulled them up to her chin. Her mind refused to quiet down and let her sleep. Instead, thoughts of Thorin continued to haunt her. Thankfully, they would only be in Erebor for another week and then they would journey home to the Iron Hills. She could hardly wait to escape the painful reminders in Erebor. Her thoughts continued to plague her and she only drifted off to sleep as the sun rose in the eastern sky.

To Be Continued…