Thank you all for your lovely reviews, PM's, and follows! You all made my day. My goodness, I totally forgot about context with the first chapter, so this will make up for it (I hope). I also changed it so that Thror wrote the law since it was found at Erebor. I thought it made more sense. Also, the "end of the year" I changed to Durin's Day. I guess that what happens when inspiration strikes but editing doesn't. This chapter sets up what's coming next, but I have a few twists and turns in store, so stay tuned and please review!

Chapter 2

Thorin paced around the long granite table in the council chambers, his silver-streaked hair swinging with every stride, and prepared what he was going to say. Fili had been groomed as his heir even from before they reclaimed Erebor, and now, with a stroke of a mad king's hand, he loses his place.

It's not fair. The lad deserves better.

Rubbing two fingers against his temple, he thought back to those days when he nearly lost his mind but was saved by a hobbit's courage and the love and sacrifice of his kin. Those days seemed like another lifetime but, in truth, were only two years ago.

They were willing to give their lives to save me when I fell in battle, he thought. I nearly lost the only family I have left.

Thankfully, the brothers' injuries, while grave, were not fatal, and all three recovered after a long convalescence.

Meanwhile, these self-important lords and elders searched the archives and installed themselves, Thorin recalled bitterly. Now I'm at their mercy, but I make my own oath on Durin's tomb that I will find a way to rid myself of them once and for all.

Then the door opened, and Fili and Kili stepped in, both looking solemn. Thorin motioned for them to take a seat.

"We'd rather stand, uncle," Fili said soberly. "We already know what you're going to say. We overheard some of the council members talking."

Thorin closed his eyes and groaned, shaking a mental fist at those thrice-damned dignitaries. Then he sighed and nodded. His careful words fell by the wayside.

"Aye, well, then you know I must be wed before Durin's Day or else a bride will be chosen for me," he said more harshly than he intended. "You deserve better, lads, but I'm afraid there's no help for it."

Fili stood erect with his hand on the pommel of his sword. He looked unusually grim, with his mouth set in a tight line, the usually merry twinkle gone. Kili stepped in next to him looking just as stern. Thorin had not seen them this serious since he took them to task years ago for jumping in the river before they knew how to swim.

"Was it me, uncle?" Fili asked stiffly, clearly expecting to hear a litany of complaints. "Did they find fault with me that they're forcing you into this?"

"And I, uncle?" Kili added, looking downcast. "Do I share the blame for this?"

Staring open-mouthed at them, Thorin stood dumbfounded. He had expected disappointment or resentment, perhaps, but not guilt. He strode forward and gripped Fili's arms.

"No, lad, no!" he said forcefully. "Of course not," he added more gently. He smiled fondly at them.

"You both would make better kings than I," he said firmly, "and I couldn't be prouder of you. This has nothing to do with you."

He ran his hands over his face while Fili and Kili looked at each other with raised brows.

"It has everything to do with a decree that King Thror wrote in his madness," he began with more than a trace of seething anger, "and that decree specifically states that I must wed or else a bride will be chosen for me. Of course, in the event she doesn't conceive, you'll still be my heir."

Fili stepped forward, confusion written all over his face.

"But why now, uncle?" he asked urgently. "Why the rush?"

Thorin grinned mirthlessly. This was an insult if ever there was one.

"Because I am, as the council decreed, 'entering elder age' and may not be able to sire an heir if I wait any longer," he said. Fili and Kili gasped in unison.

"That's preposterous!" Kili said stoutly. "Dwarves much older than you are still having children."

"Aye, uncle," Fili agreed, "you're in your prime."

Thorin shook his head. The council deliberated long and hard on this and came to a unanimous conclusion. Only Balin could calm him down hours later after he heard the council members' reasoning. The doors he punched through were promptly replaced.

"If it were only the begetting of a child, the council would have agreed with you," he said, "but then comes the matter of preparing the child to rule, and that I must do and be young enough to do it. The council went to elaborate lengths to calculate the necessary time needed and arrived at this year."

"But, but," Fili spluttered, "you're king! Surely you can change the law or change the terms at least."

Thorin sighed and braced one hand on the table with his back to them.

"My grandfather ordered it as a binding oath on the Tomb of Durin," he muttered, "and the timing was left to the council's discretion."

The brothers stared horrified. That oath was seldom used for it was considered both sacred and irrevocable.

"But why, uncle?" Fili asked sorrowfully. "Why did he do that to you?"

Thorin swung around, anger deepening every line of his face.

"Because he was mad!" he roared. "All he cared about was securing Durin heirs to protect his precious treasure for all time!"

He put his fist to his mouth and stepped away, shaking his head. He knew he needed to control himself lest he embitter them as well but failed miserably. He turned away only to feel his nephews step close to him.

"He did care, uncle," Kili said, choosing his words carefully. "He cared enough to see to your welfare and not leave you alone to rule. You know how much he loved your grandmother. Perhaps he knew that you were alone and wanted something better for you."

Thorin hadn't considered that before, but if Thror wanted to show his affection for him, he could have done so in any number of better ways. Still, to be alone was Thror's greatest fear and, perhaps through his madness, a glimmer of loving concern shone through. His eyes stung as he recognized Kili's efforts to soothe his pain.

A fine dwarrow he's become.

"So you aren't upset, nephews?" he asked.

The brothers shook their heads and smiled widely.

"Your boots are too big to fill, uncle," Fili said with a flashing grin, "and I rather like the greater freedom of being a prince. I don't fancy taking on what you've had to deal with."

Kili nodded. "Aye, we're only worried for you, uncle."

"I thank you, lads," he rumbled, his eyes suspiciously glassy. Then he shook himself out of his melancholy. "However, the fact remains that noble dwarrowdams from the various clans will descend on Erebor within the month, and I must choose one." He took a deep breath. "And I'll need your help."

The brothers glanced at each other. This was new. Their uncle always expected their service to Erebor, but he seldom needed their help. The last time was when they stood over his prone body on the battlefield, but even then, he didn't ask them for it. He was already unconscious.

"Our help?" Fili asked.

Thorin waved one hand in the air. This was one subject that he was loath to talk about, but it must be faced if he was to have any control or make any success of what must come. He winced as he faced his nephews.

"I'll need some help with, uh, charm," he said. "I'm not known for being particularly good with females other than your mother, and even then …."

He didn't need to say anymore. Dis, while she was still living, called him the unpolished rock-head of Ered Luin. Growing up, the brothers grew used to hearing her grumpy but ultimately good-natured complaints about her brother's lack of sensitivity—something they had seen for themselves on many an occasion.

"Of course, uncle," Fili said, quickly stifling all desire to laugh until a later time. "We'll help out in whatever way you need, right, Kili?"

"Aye," Kili agreed, trying hard but failing to keep a smirk off his face, "whatever you need."

"Thank you," Thorin replied, flicking his hand to dismiss them, "I appreciate your support." Then he sat down in his chair. They left quietly.

The brothers walked down the hall silently, each lost in his thoughts. They had always revered their uncle, but they became especially close to him while they all recovered from their injuries. It was Mahal's kindness that they survived, and it changed them. Thorin shared more of himself than he ever had before. His bout with gold sickness made him less concerned with wealth and status and more concerned with those he loved. Never one for showing much emotion, he became much more free with his affection and favor, and his nephews thrived on it. In turn, they became more thoughtful and responsible, and they loved him with fierce loyalty. Now he was threatened, and they took it personally.

"This just isn't fair to uncle," Kili said hotly while they walked down a wide, polished hallway with golden torches hanging in gem-encrusted, wall sconces. "No matter whom he chooses, you know he'll be unhappy because he was forced into it. We need to do something, but what?"

"I dunno," Fili answered with a frown. "The only way uncle could get out of this is if none of the dwarrowdams want to marry him."

Kili stopped in the corridor.

"Say that again."

"I said, that the only way that uncle could get out of it would be if.…" Fili trailed off and broke into a devious grin.

Though the brothers had matured greatly, their penchant for pranks never disappeared completely. Once the cause of half Thorin's headaches at Ered Luin, their childish antics evolved over the years into clever traps that now bedeviled anyone who gave their uncle grief. One such took place after they found him rubbing his head and looking exhausted after a difficult council meeting. Their response was for a senior advisor to find an "ancient" scroll ordering council members to observe a week of strict silence each month to ponder weighty matters with due diligence.

"Nephews, this is completely unacceptable," Thorin had said when he found out why he suddenly had blessed peace a week later. The brothers remembered that he seemed to have a cold that day because he kept turning his back and hacking or clearing his throat. His lips quirked while he talked as though he was trying hard not to cough.

"Completely unacceptable," he repeated after another bout. "Of course, it would reflect badly on you both to admit to this, so I think it best that we keep things as they are."

Later that night, when they went to their chambers, they found exquisite daggers with royal blue sapphires set into the grip and pommel. Runes reading "The King's Protector" were engraved on the gleaming steel blades.

"This is too big for just the two of us," Kili said thinking hard. "We can't take on 20 determined dwarrowdams by ourselves."

"Maybe not, but uncle's utter lack of charm will be a big help," Fili pointed out, "and I'm sure that the company will want to pitch in."

"Right," Kili said setting his face forward to the task, "we'll recruit as many as we can to help out and, while we're at it, we need to, uh, assist the current council members out of their positions."

Fili laughed heartily and then lowered his voice after several advisors stopped and stared.

"I see you retained his lessons on battle strategy."

Kili shook his dark head, his handsome face fierce and determined.

"Not battle strategy, brother, ambush."

Let the fun begin!