OK, ladies and gents, here she is! Time to do the Happy Dance! Thank you for your lovely reviews, and many thanks to those who signed up since the last chapter. It's been great to meet you.

Chapter 12

The rest of that terrible day, Thorin worked with the mine foreman to draw up plans to close the new mine safely. He also needed to meet with Lother's family at once and the families of other dwarves under Oin's care as soon as possible. His schedule with the dwarrowdams was cancelled, but most understood that he had urgent business to take care of. Princess Onkra did not.

"My lord," Dolor said panting, "I have another message from Princess Onkra. She says it's most urgent."

"By Erebor," Thorin thundered, "tell her that a dwarf died today, and many more are injured! My place is with them and their families, not her!"

She had tried and lost his patience. She was supposed to meet with him before the evening feast, but events dictated otherwise. Thorin was sorry for the cause but relieved at the result.

"I've had three 'requests' from her today already," he growled in the sweating councilor's face. "If I go up there, it will be to have her thrown in the dungeon for obstructing kingdom business. Get Lord Dain and have him deal with her."

Dolor nodded, for once in full agreement with his king. He left in a hurry, and Balin stepped up.

"I have Lother's sister and her children waiting for you in the throne room," he said gently. "He took them in after her husband died at Azanulbizar."

Thorin knitted his brows.

"No," he replied while stroking his mustache absent-mindedly, "no, have them taken to my private study instead."

Balin looked surprised but bobbed his head.

"We've not lost one in the mines since we've been back, Balin," Thorin said. "I don't want to meet his kin so coldly."

Balin grinned and, with a twinkle in his eye, turned to leave.

"Wait!" Thorin cried, and he reached into his jerkin and pulled out a letter. "Deliver this after everyone is abed."

Balin hefted it smugly.

"I see that the day's events haven't slowed your pursuit, laddie."

Thorin smiled at his friend's observation.

"I want to draw her out into the open," he replied. "I believe my letter states my intentions clearly, so she should have no objections now."

It was Balin's turn to frown. Thorin's sensitivity as king clearly didn't translate to his new role of suitor.

"Did you …" he started carefully, "did you tell her how you feel, lad? She needs more than intentions."

Thorin arched one brow and took a lofty stance.

"I made my wishes known and that's enough," he said confidently. "However, if you feel that including a gem would be helpful, by all means do so."

Then he nodded at the letter and turned on his heel, leaving Balin shaking his head.

She won't take this well.

Nevertheless, he headed to the library while Thorin walked quickly to his study. The secretary of the treasury met him there at his request. A few minutes later, one of his new, personal guards announced Lother's remaining family. A dwarrowdam with red-rimmed eyes was ushered in with a young dwarf and delicate dwarrowdam. The daughter had her arms about her mother's shoulders while the son stood next to them.

"I'm sorry for your terrible loss," Thorin said kindly. He stood in back of his desk and walked around the front. "We could not send for you in time."

Sophrin, Lother's sister, blinked rapidly, and tears ran down her face.

"Did he die well, my lord?" she asked tremulously. "Did he die … happy?"

Thorin nodded, relieved that he could honestly say yes.

"Aye, he did," he answered. "Thanks to Nella, Oin's assistant, Lother thought of his last family picnic in the Blue Mountains and died with a smile on his face."

"Did he find the gold he was looking for, my lord?" asked Lif, her son. He watched Thorin carefully.

"Aye," the king replied after the slightest of hesitations. However, it was enough for Lif to inhale sharply and close his eyes. Then he faced Thorin squarely.

"Thank you, my lord, for having such faith in him," he replied firmly.

Thorin inclined his head. Then Lif's eyes flashed to his mother, and Thorin pushed forward a small, ornate box.

"He was holding these when he came out," he said.

Sophrin lifted the lid and gasped at three chunks of gold. She lifted them reverently and turned to her daughter. The two hugged each other and clasped the nuggets to their chests.

"So his death wasn't in vain?" she asked.

"No," Thorin replied, "but the mine is unstable, and I've ordered it closed. As valuable as it may be, it's not worth another life."

She hesitated and then nodded. No other family should face what she did, and she knew it. Reaching back on his desk, Thorin picked up a document with his bold signature across the bottom.

"This order gives you and your family income enough to last you the rest of your lives," he said. "The secretary here will see to your needs."

Meanwhile, Balin walked into the library, placed the note, and left as quickly as he could. He was sure that the mystery writer would scorn Thorin's haughty approach, and he exhaled in frustration. Her first rejection hit Thorin hard, and he retreated into his role of king to protect his wounded heart. Balin shook his head and laughed to himself that his friend needed the set down, even though it wasn't personal. Most dwarrowdams, noble or not, were overawed by Erebor and its king and were more than willing to demean themselves to be queen. However, he was sure that the mystery writer was a fair match for his king. She had already proved that with her courage and daring. He couldn't wait to meet her.

Down in the infirmary, Nella moved smoothly among her patients who tried to smile as she passed.

"There now," she said to one dwarf who lay askew on the bed, "you look very uncomfortable. Why don't we give you a boost, so you can get more rest?"

He gave a jerky bob of his head. His arm and leg were broken, and sweat beaded on his brow.

"My thanks, my lady," he rasped.

She called out to Kili, who trotted over and, together, they slowly tugged on the sheet underneath the dwarf to pull him up so that his head rested on his pillow. Then she grabbed a tin cup of water and added a sedative.

"Here you go," she said softly while supporting the his head. He sipped the water gratefully and sank back.

"May Mahal bless you, lass," he croaked.

She watched until his eyes closed, and then moved to another cot. The dwarf's head was swathed in gauze, and clotting blood caked the side of his head and dribbled into his ear. He had just fallen asleep, and she shook him.

"Stay awake, do you hear?" she urged. "You need to stay awake."

His eyes stayed closed, so she patted his cheeks. After getting no response, she slapped his face, and he jerked awake. She exhaled in relief.

"You must stay awake!" she implored. "Don't fall asleep! Whatever you do, don't fall asleep!"

She turned to see Fili standing behind her. She jumped, and her hand flew to her throat. He put his hand on her shoulder and nodded at the bed.

"I'll stay with him," he said. "You go and help the others." "Now off with you," he added when she didn't move. He pulled up a chair beside the bed.

"Now, Coldar," he said with his most charming smile, "how would you like to hear about our quest and the death of Smaug?"

Thorin strode to the library the next morning with great expectations. He rolled his shoulders to release his excitement as he rounded the corner of the tall, cherry bookcase. The book beckoned him closer, and he eagerly opened its cover and saw—nothing. His note was gone, but nothing was in its place. He put the book back in a daze.

Perhaps she was kept away by today's events. Aye, that must be it.

Balin waited for him outside the door.

"No note?" he asked after seeing the look on Thorin's face.

The king shook his head and took a deep breath.

"Aye, but I'm sure the events of today kept her from coming," he said with the hearty confidence of those who doubt their words.

"Ah, well," Balin replied without surprise, "perhaps another note saying how you feel about her might help matters along. Think on it, laddie. You're king, and that's an overwhelming prospect for some. She needs your regard even more than your promises."

Thorin pulled a face.

"What I'm offering is an honor beyond anything she could hope for," he scoffed, "and I said enough the night we met."

Balin put his hands on his hips and lifted a bushy brow.

"Did you tell her you loved her?" he asked squarely.

Thorin's lips pressed together, and the lines of his face hardened.

"Is that necessary?" he asked while looking down his nose.

Balin's mouth fell open, and he spluttered and stammered, but no words came out. Putting his clenched fists on his hips, he tried to calm himself, but his stocky body shook with anger. Finally, his found his voice.

"I'd ask if you were joking, but unfortunately, I know you're not," he said sternly.

"Watch your tone," Thorin warned.

Instead, Balin huffed in exasperation. Thorin reared back in surprise.

"I won't," his advisor said with a snort. His nose wrinkled in disgust. "You might as well pick The Oinker and be done with it because you're going to ruin any chance you have of winning the lass. How dare you treat her like a trollop with a gem for her favors! Now don't look so surprised. I'll bet on my mother's tomb that she didn't answer because you acted like an arse!"

Then he turned and marched out the door with his head held high like a parade followed behind him. Thorin watched him go while his anger rose from flame to inferno. He swept down the hall with pounding steps and barked at his sentries to bring the families of those injured to the throne room. He was king. What he did was right because he said so, and that was all that mattered.

However, after several days of silence, he finally reconsidered his position. He had sent out members of the company to find her but to no avail. In fact, none of the company had anything to report except the Ri brothers.

"None of ladies-in-waiting know about her, my lord," Nori said.

"Is that all?" Thorin asked disdainfully.

Ori nervously mentioned that plots and intrigues among the dwarrowdams to sabotage each other's chances were disturbing. He hesitated, and Thorin flicked his hand impatiently. The young dwarf took a deep breath, but Dori stepped up and spoke for him.

"There's talk," he began, "and maybe it's rubbish, but there are rumors about someone asking what kind of poisons we stock."

Thorin inhaled sharply between his teeth. That news crossed the line.

"Do you know who?" he asked. The Ri brothers shook their heads, and all fell silent.

"I want a name," Thorin said as he fixed his eyes on each of them. They nodded and hurried out of the room.

Then he threw himself in his chair behind his desk and picked up a quill. Thirty minutes later, he was still rolling it between his thumb and fingers. Dare he put his feelings on paper? What if she rejected him again, Durin forbid? Then he remembered her saying that his mother told her much about him. Had she perhaps felt some tenderness for him all those years? A wave of heat rushed through him when he thought of her sweet breath and soft kisses. He stroked his tingling lips.

Ah, I'm acting like a love-struck dwarrow!

That thought shocked him. He couldn't be in love. Admiration and attraction, obviously, but … love? Sighing wearily, he ran one hand over his head. He felt so much that night, but her leaving the way she did both hurt and embarrassed him. Then Balin's words floated back into his mind. They caught him by surprise, but he couldn't deny that they were right. He never wanted a marriage of convenience or political necessity, yet he treated her no better than those noble dwarrowdams he despised. The very thought curdled his stomach.

Crying out in frustration, he threw the quill on his desk and pushed the parchment away. Then he caught sight of his silver Smaug. The dragon's open mouth laughed at him. His annoyance grew as he stared at the small replica. Picking up his quill, he took out his knife and cut the point. He shoved it down deep in Smaug's throat as though he was trying to choke his metal nemesis.

With swift strokes, he wrote without hesitation, but the words flowed more easily than he expected. Then he took out a stick of sealing wax, melted it over a flame, and dripped it on the folded note. He stood and pressed the seal down to the parchment. The House of Durin crest stood out proudly.

Late that night, he placed the note inside the book cover, but his hand lingered on the spine. Part of him wanted to rip the note out and burn it. He struggled to pull his hand away but then took the book back out. Breathing hard, he held it to his chest while he thought through every possible response. Finally exhaling slowly, he pushed the book back into the stacks and walked away, resolved to accept whatever came. He slept badly and woke with a pounding headache.

Fortifying himself with several mugs of ale, he hurried to the library with his heart in his mouth. It was too soon to expect a response, but he couldn't wait. Stilling the urge to wipe his hands on his breeches, he flipped the cover open to find a note. His heart lurched, and he opened the note slowly and let out his breath through his mouth.

Meet me tomorrow midday on the lower slopes by the honeysuckle hedges.

Miraculously, his headache had disappeared.

The day seemed to drag on interminably with endless meetings and tedious social calls, although visits to see the injured dwarves were heartening. All of them would survive, thanks to Nella and Oin. With great effort, he even managed to avoid more 'requests' from Princess Onkra.

Awake before dawn, he paced until the sun rose and then called attendants to lay out his new wardrobe. This time he took even greater care of his appearance and wore a silver-embroidered tunic, mithril-studded jerkin, and a black leather surcoat trimmed with silver fox. The gleaming silver threads accentuated the streaks in his hair. He looked regal, every inch a king. He had his boots cleaned and polished, his beard trimmed, and his hair washed and oiled with clove essence until it shone. He felt invigorated yet anxious, although he'd rather die by an orc's scabby hand than admit it.

The company gathered around him in excited anticipation.

"I bet she's a raven-haired beauty with blue eyes," Bofur said.

Thorin's nephews shook their heads.

"She's got brown eyes, large and soft like a doe's," Fili said dreamily. His uncle shot him a disapproving look.

"And hair like molten gold," Kili added enthusiastically.

Dwalin frowned.

"It's curly, lad," he said.

Thorin put up his hands to still their eager chattering.

"I don't want to scare her off, but I also don't want anyone seeing us together," he said firmly, "so we need a reason to leave the mountain."

"I'll get my axes," Dwalin said nodding at Fili and Kili. "These two have missed too many training sessions."

Then he inspected the others with a critical eye.

"Aye, and a few of you are looking soft as well."

"Agreed," Thorin said.

Gathering their weapons and other gear, Thorin and the company started out for the lower slopes a little more than a mile away. The sun shone warmly on them, and the heat of the late spring day sent the spicy perfume of various flowers drifting through the air. The sky was dotted with large, scalloped clouds with a hint of something more threatening on the far horizon. For the moment though, all was vibrantly green and blue with splashes of red, pink, orange, and yellow.

As they walked closer toward the last rocky hills, they heard voices on the flat, grassy plain beyond. That area served as a training ground for dwarves who practiced on the uneven terrain. Fighters would start on the grass and then battle over the rocks and in and around the tall honeysuckle and yew hedges. A large stand of pine trees was perfect for setting ambushes.

They turned the corner to see all the noble dwarrowdams, family members, and entourages lounging and eating. Spits with shoats and lambs rotating slowly stood at one end of the merry gathering while fabric-covered tables bowed under the weight of carved roasts, platters of spring greens, various cold salads, bread puddings, sauced vegetables, and various sweetmeats. Kegs of ale and wine kept cool under the pine trees. Balin started laughing while Thorin stared in dismay.

"What a lass!" he said, and he chuckled until he wiped a tear away. "She's one upped you again, laddie. Good luck and may Mahal be merciful today!"

Thorin couldn't fathom how she did it and what she meant by it. Was she to hide among the others and say she kept her promise? He soon realized though that this was the only way she could meet him and escape notice. Someone would see a single servant venturing out of the gates for no clear reason, but no one would question an event when all were invited.

"How did she do it?" he asked both impressed and annoyed. "I gave no such order."

Balin grinned.

"She's a formidable strategist."

"Aye," Thorin replied resolutely, "but now I need to make my move and capture my queen."

Before he could, however, Princess Onkra waved him over. She looked like a small hill in a brown velvet dress, and he shuddered inwardly.

"My lord," she whined as prettily as she could manage, "I hope you're here to give me my time today. I've been looking forward to your company all week and have a fascinating story to tell."

He groaned softly and took in her appearance. She looked too much like a pile of—he wouldn't let his mind form the word—and he walked over reluctantly.

"Princess Onkra," he said with a bow, "I hope you're enjoying yourself. I'm sure you understand that the tragedy down in the mine took up much of my time."

She tilted her head and gazed at him. Straining to open her eyes wider, she said nothing while seemingly pondering the truth behind his words. He caught a flash of the peridot green that she inherited from her father.

"Well, I hope that all is settled so we can spend the afternoon together—cousin," she said, and she held out her hand.

He ignored her intimate reference. Closing his canine tooth on his bottom lip, he took her fat and beringed hand to place the merest of kisses on it. She frowned, and her folds sagged slightly.

"With everyone here," he said smoothly, "it would be inappropriate for me to spend all my time with you. My regrets, princess."

He turned to see the small crowd gathering behind him.

"As you see," he said gesturing. He tried to hide his satisfaction, but the light in his eyes gave him away.

She tried to smile.

"Of course," she said flatly. "We'll just have to make other arrangements then."

He turned back at her tone. It sounded slightly threatening, but by then she was picking honeysuckle blossoms off their stems. Somehow, she delicately pulled out each pistil to catch the drop of sweet nectar. He looked beside her to see a huge mound of discarded flowers. A slight smile touched his lips.

"I will make sure we have our time together," he replied gallantly.

This time he didn't miss her calculating look.

"Yes, we will," she purred.

"How can we find her in all this?" Kili muttered to his brother after several hours had passed. Fili shrugged. While the minutes ticked by, they engaged as many dwarrowdams and their maids as they could. None showed any sign of being the mystery writer; instead most blushed and tittered at their charm. A few suggested meeting later.

"How many more do we have to talk to?" Kili said out of the side of his mouth. They walked in and among the clans eating and drinking under increasingly cloudy skies.

"I dunno," Fili replied. "The rest are making their way through the crowds as well."

Kissing hands, making witty comments, and complimenting beauty were the order of the day. Even Princess Onkra received some compliments for her choice of jewelry—a citrine necklace and earrings set in gold. She blushed and tugged on her strained seams.

"Reminds me of a steaming pile of …" Dwalin started.

"Don't say it, brother," Balin warned.

Thorin also walked in and among the noble dwarrowdams, stopping to talk to warriors he knew or had heard of. He and Dain stood off to one side for some time and discussed business that affected both kingdoms. All thanked him the outing and his generosity. The day was a great success, but he knew it wasn't due to any effort on his part.

Finally, the skies turned darker, and he thought it wise to end the outing before it rained. Most mounted their ponies and prepared to ride back when a carriage pulled up for Princess Onkra. One of its ponies stumbled, and a groom jumped down to inspect its hoof.

"My lord!" he called out. Pulling up the pony's hoof, both he and Thorin could see that the shoe was lost some time ago and that the pony's hoof was split. If the split grew any wider, she would have to be put down.

"She can't pull the carriage, my lord," the groom said. "She needs to be walked back without a rider."

Princess Onkra huffed.

"Worthless animal!"

She looked around and spied her maid's mount.

"Take that one instead."

Thorin put his hands on his hips.

"And how is she going to get back?"

She dismiss his comment with a wave of her hand.

"She can walk back. It's nothing she hasn't done before."

She threw a scathing glance at her maid, who curtsied deeply but said nothing. Thorin nodded.

"Hitch that pony then," he said, "and I'll walk Ruby back myself."

The groom opened his mouth to protest, but Thorin silenced him.

"I need the walk back," he said. "Being outside is a welcome change after all the grief the week has brought."

Princess Onkra frowned and fiddled with her rings.

"Surely the groom can handle that, my lord," she tutted. "Meanwhile, you're welcome to ride back with me."

He shook his head.

"She needs careful handling, my lady," he said, "and your maid needs a ride back more than I do."

She stared aghast.

"In my carriage?" she asked with a snort. "I won't have it!"

He rolled his eyes and didn't care if she saw it.

Then he waved the carriage away and sent the company ahead on foot. Leaning down, he checked Ruby's hoof again. The pony whinnied, and he patted her side.

"All's well, my girl," he said soothingly. He started walking when he turned back to the maid and fished in his pocket.

"I believe this is yours," he said with a smile as he pulled out the glittering pin.

For a moment, it seemed like all motion stopped while they faced each other.

She sucked in her breath but then dropped all pretense.

"How did you know?" she asked through her veil.

He laughed freely, and it felt good.

"You cut honeysuckle branches for Princess Onkra, don't you?" he asked.

She sighed and nodded.

"Aye," she said in her husky voice, "but I like them as well."

He tilted his head and drunk her in. She stood several feet away, but he could smell the enticing scent of honeysuckle on her. Her waist-length veil kept her face obscured, but she was real and standing in front of him, and that was enough for now. He turned and pulled on the reins to lead Ruby away. She fell in step beside him instead of behind him as a proper maid would do.

"What did you think of my note?" he asked.

She giggled softly, and he thought the sound adorable.

"Which one?" she asked. "The imperious, arrogant arse one, or the one I answered?"

He turned in anger that deflated at her joyful laughter. Chuckling, he shook his head in response. He pulled Ruby between the honeysuckle hedges and stopped.

"The second one," he said, suddenly serious.

She stopped as well and then looked up at the clouds hanging low and heavy over their heads. The day turned dark, and shadows seemed to envelope them. The light breeze grew stronger.

"It was endearing," she said softly, "but I'm just a maid and have no business with someone like Your Majesty."

He took her hand and pulled her closer.

"I have business where I will and, as king, I've decided to make you my business."

She ducked her head, but he could feel her smiling. He knew that this might be his only moment to say what he wanted, and he would make the most of it.

"I meant what I said," he started, "but first I'll have your name."

At that, she looked over his shoulder and behind her. Then taking a step closer, she leaned in and whispered in his ear, "My name is Relianna."

He sighed. Of course, it was. She who had haunted his dreams since her first note was named after his mother. More emotion that he had the heart to feel surged through him, and he groaned with pain.

"Relianna," he repeated.

His hand rose to touch her veil, but she gasped. Hushing her like he would a skittish filly, he stepped forward and took hold of the hem. She pulled back, and he froze. Then sighing in resignation, she pulled it away from him and lifted it herself. The first thing he saw was a silky mass of curly, red hair hanging just above her slimmer-than-average waist. He was surprised that she didn't have the typical dwarven figure of a generous bosom above a thick waist and even wider hips.

"Someone in my ancestry was human," she said by way of apology, but he found her figure powerfully alluring.

Then he saw a delicate chin, full lips, and dark green eyes with thick lashes set into a heart-shaped face. She was just as beautiful as he imagined, and he smiled warmly. Her dimples deepened, and he was enchanted.

"Relianna," he whispered as his arms encircled her. "My Relianna."

His lips closed on hers, and he was both relieved and delighted to feel the same tingling energy suffusing his body. Pulling her in by the small of her back, he kissed her lips and neck with reckless abandon. Again she reached up and tangled her fingers in his hair. He groaned loudly and kissed her roughly, but she matched his desire and pressed herself against him. Finally, he broke away and trapped her in his arms, his lips tasting one soft ear and kissing her hair over and over.

"I want you almost more than I can stand," he said panting. "I would lose all restraint if not for my concern for your honor and safety."

Then he lifted her chin and looked into her eyes, which were swimming in tears.

"I would make love to you here and now and keep you with me always," he said, looking deep into her eyes, "but first I will make you my wife and queen."

She shook her head, but he held her by her shoulders.

"You must marry a noble-born," she said. "I am not …"

His lingering, tender kiss silenced her.

"I must be wed," he agreed, "but I will no longer will let anyone else dictate to whom."

He ran his finger along her cheek and down to her chin.

"I meant what I said in my second note," he whispered. "I love you, Relianna."

Pronounced Reliahna. You'll learn more about her in the next chapter, but for now, please review!