Thank you, thank you for your continued support and reviews, and welcome new friends who have joined in since the last posting! School's bearing down, but I managed to get this out. For those who are reading "Through the Eyes of Another," that chapter will come out as soon as possible. Thank you again and please review!

Chapter 30

Lord Kerba walked down the hall to see Dain surrounded by those lords who still wanted a bone to pick. Some were bandaged, some battered, but all were angry. The uzbads were angry that they'd been shamed by their host, so they found a new target on which to vent their ire. He rolled his eyes. Although he, himself, didn't approve of Dain's behavior in the least, he thought that their self-righteousness was a previously unscaled peak of hypocrisy. Mixed-blood or no, womenfolk were to be protected from harm at the least, and Thorin's rebuke was well-deserved. His mouth quirked slightly while remembering the King of Erebor throwing himself in front of the woman he loved, trying with all his might to keep her safe. He shook his head at the image.

You've the courage of your convictions, my lad. You're a fine dwarf and king. Your parents would be proud.

Thorin never knew that Lord Kerba had always thought fondly of him and made sure to ask after him when he visited Erebor. He knew that his business at Erebor wasn't terribly interesting or complicated, so Thrain often had his eldest attending other matters. Kerba smiled. He and Queen Relia had talked often about her serious son, and he watched him grow up with the pride of an uncle of sorts. When Erebor fell, he offered all the help he could, and Thorin thanked him sincerely and then took his people to find a new home. However, many more would have died if not for the wagon loads of food and other supplies he sent in those first weeks. He shook his head and exhaled. After all he'd endured, Thorin deserved much better than he received today. Huffing with exasperation, Lord Kerba adjusted his spectacles and entered the fray.

"What goes on here?" he asked loudly. "Another tussle? Don't we have enough wounded to care for without starting another one?"

Dain turned to him in gratitude, but Kerba's stern frown wiped the hopeful smile off his face, and his head dropped. Onkra stood by the side and grinned smugly. Lord Kerba didn't spare her a glance.

"This is an outrage!" one lord shouted. "An outrage!"

"We seem to be having a lot of that lately," Kerba replied dryly. "What's the outrage this time? That Dain sired children out of wedlock or that you all acted like arses in the Great Hall of Erebor, alienating the most powerful king in Middle-earth as well as the head of the Longbeard clan."

Kerba's sharp words reduced shouts to resentful mutterings. He looked around with his hands on his hips and stared over his spectacles at them until they stood there sullenly like naughty dwarflings in front of their father.

"Now," he said, turning to Dain, "it's time to answer for yourself. Are the lass and her brother yours by Tamra?"

Dain nodded silently. A single tear splashed on the ground, and he cleared his throat loudly. The lords scoffed and tried to start up again, but Kerba waved them down.

"I didn't know about them," Dain said in a low and thick voice. "She told me she had lost the baby."

Kerba pursed his lips.

"Still, you laid with her and got her with child and yet didn't stand by her," he replied with his lips clenched around his mouth. The lords looked from one to the other, no doubt thinking that Kerba—known for his few but always well-chosen words—would mete out the punishment Dain deserved. They gathered, licking their lips for vengeance.

"I was a coward and a fool," Dain cried. "I should have. Mahal, I should have. I loved none but her. Father forced me to wed Onkra's mother, but I should have made Tamra my wife come what may." He pressed his palms against his eyes and then shook himself like he was trying to throw a biting animal off his back.

"I'll pay for my mistakes, but I will stand by my daughter and support Thorin in his decision. He's done what I wouldn't, and I will acknowledge my son as my heir."

With a loud snort, Onkra heaved herself forward one step and sneered at her father.

"Don't you dare!" she yelled. "You've no right to call those mongrels kin!"

Lord Kerba acted like she wasn't there and continued to interrogate Dain.

"So your daughter and son were born before Onkra here?"

Dain nodded. Kerba's lips twitched, but he held his hand over his mouth to appear like he was deep in thought.

"Thorin told me that Queen Relia adopted Relianna into the Longbeard clan when she came of age," Dain said, his voice becoming stronger and more confident. "I told him to end this practice of forcing dwarves to wed for political advantage. It's unnatural and the way of men, not khazad. He's taken that stand, and I stand with him."

Another lord stepped forward shaking with rage, his thick, dark braids swinging around his ears.

"They're mixed-bloods, Dain!" he shouted, and he waved one arm dismissively. "We will never accept them."

His words were greeted with a round of "ayes!" and he folded his arms across his broad chest in defiance.

Another lord stood off to the side and watched Kerba, who had not declared his position—yet.

"What's your interest in this?" he asked with nostrils flaring and wiry eyebrows lowered. "Where do you stand?"

Finally, Kerba grinned openly and rubbed his hands together, relishing the moment.

"Well, let's look at the facts first, shall we?" he asked pleasantly. "To begin with, Dain's newfound son and daughter, as Prince Fili said, have the approval of the Durins as well as the members of his company who reclaimed Erebor, each the richest of their clans. I supposed you noticed them out in force?"

He looked around, pleased that he had their attention.

"Second, mixed-bloods or not, Dain's children have shown themselves to be strong and brave in the face of danger. In case you didn't notice, she kept her calm even though she knew that Zozer was in the room."

A number of lords sneered at his logic.

"How could she possibly have known that?" asked a lord dressed in garish yellow brocade.

Kerba pinched his nose, and those standing near him heard his muttered pleas to Mahal for patience.

"Did you or did you not see Thorin's guards entering the room with short swords?" he asked slowly. "And did you or did you not see him and Prince Fili armed? Aye? And did you or did you not see Prince Kili run through the crowd with his bow in his hand and a full quiver of arrows on his back?"

He stopped and eyed each lord, bobbing his head slightly at those who were slowly catching on as if to hurry them up.

"And did you or did you not see Zozer shot by an arrow before Dain ran him through? Hmm?"

The dwarves muttered their assent in various tones of resentment.

"So then, my good dwarves," Kerba replied in measured words, "they were prepared for him. Prince Kili was in the balcony with his bow drawn for the moment he showed himself and there was a clear shot. They knew he was there—and so did she."

Then he grunted his challenge for them to see his points clearly. One by one, they nodded.

"Now where was I?" he huffed. "Oh yes, as for your part in this, none of you had the guts to even try and defend a helpless maiden against a heartless fiend, which says more about you than is polite to mention. However her brother—very handsome lad, by the way—took him on alone, alone. None of you twitched a finger, yet he came down unarmed to stand against him. I'll wager he was up in the balcony with Prince Kili and that he too had an arrow trained on Zozer but came down to give Prince Kili an opening."

Then he looked at Dain and nodded.

"You asked me where I stand, my lords," he said turning to face them, his humor restored. "I would think that the answer is clear. You can support Dain and have a courageous young dwarf as the next Lord of the Iron Hills." Then he stepped over and pointed at Onkra. "Or you can have that!" She turned almost burgundy with rage but held her tongue, perhaps for the first time ever.

Their eyes swung from her to Dain, and their mouths twisted unpleasantly.

"Oh, and one more thing," he added in a deceptively friendly tone. "If you choose against Thorin, you will alienate three of the most powerful kingdoms in Middle-earth."

"Oh," a Lord Alfir replied, "and which are those?"

Kerba inclined his head, and others crowded around to listen. A few cast distasteful glances at Onkra who stood fuming

"Why, my dear Alfir," he replied. "I should have thought that would be obvious. Erebor for one, so you can find your precious stones and metals elsewhere if such quantities are to be had. Then there's the Iron Hills. Lord Dain will certainly not look kindly on those who spurn his son and daughter, so there goes your supply of top-grade ore."

"Who's third?" Lord Alfir asked with his hands on his hips.

Lord Kerba coughed delicately.

"Why myself, of course," he answered, his face turning absolutely serious. "So you, my friends, would need to find another source of coal, and I'm sure Lord Meldin of Ered Luin would not deal with you either since Thorin is, in point of fact, still his king."

He looked around to see downcast faces.

"It's not a hard choice," he consoled. "Do any of you really want to support this monstrosity?" He held his palm out at Onkra who jiggled with rage.

"How dare you!" she shrilled. "I'm the Princess of the Iron Hills, and I'll not stand for the likes of …!"

A loud crack made them all jump. Even Lord Kerba was taken aback.

Dain had taken off his wide leather belt and slapped it against the floor.

"One more word, Onkra," he began. Flecks of spittle flew out of his mouth with his words, and his puffing breath fluttered hairs of his thick mustache. "One more word, and I'll tan your enormous behind like I should have years ago."

Her piggish eyes opened just before her mouth, and he cracked his belt on the floor again.

"Don't try me. Don't. Unless you want be to made a spectacle, although I'm sure that everyone here would thoroughly enjoy that."

He turned to see them looking his way with approval for the first time since he arrived, and a few even pushed others aside for a better view.

"Thorin told me that you knew Zozer and that he was your cousin. You won't speak." CRACK! "Not one word!" CRACK! "I was a fool not to believe him when he said that my daughter was your maid and that you had beaten her for years knowing who she was!"

Everyone gasped, but she answered them with sneering disdain.

"You believe him?" she asked after one scathing glance at her father. Her chins wobbled contemptuously. "This cad, this cheat who broke faith with a noble-born?"

"So you deny what your father's saying?" Lord Kerba interjected. "Interesting that you called for Zozer to kill them then. You seemed on familiar terms."

She said nothing.

"Sometimes saying nothing says everything," he observed. "For the record, I believe your father utterly and completely. Thorin Oakenshield would not have lied. As for your father, he has just redeemed himself. I leave your punishment to him—and Thorin."

Dain turned to his child.

"I failed your mother by not treating her as she deserved," he said somberly, "and I failed you by not expecting better and disciplining you when you needed it most. Even so, you're responsible for your own crimes since you came of age, and they're too many to count. If I thought you had any remorse or decency, I'd spare you, but, unfortunately, we both know you don't."

Just then Dwalin, Fili, and Kili returned from their respective errands and looked around at the crowd.

"Cousins!" Dain said, and he called them over with a wave of his arm. "Onkra needs an escort to the dungeon to join her kin." The princes perked up and hastened over with wide smiles. "I know that it'll take some time," and he pulled out his belt-knife, "but if she lags, this might help her along."

The dwarves cheered and laughed at her comeuppance. Their pent up frustration finally found the proper channel, and they wasted no time throwing back at her all the bile that she had spewed at them for years.

"She could not eat for six months and still be used as a counterweight on a catapult," Lord Alfir chortled.

"Aye," another one called out after a loud guffaw, "perhaps she could replace our garbage dumps. She'll eat anything, and we won't even have to shovel it in. She'll do that by herself!" He had his hand on other lord's shoulder. All were fast friends now, united by their loathing for Onkra and delight at her sentence. Her mouth opened and closed, and she gurgled but said nothing. Her face turned pasty, and her last, suffering servants backed away. Thorin's guards who were with Dwalin took over.

"Oh, and only bread and water until she apologizes to all she's hurt, including her sister," Dain added. "I hope this doesn't inconvenience you."

Fili took his dagger and Kili pulled out his own belt-knife.

"We'll manage," Fili replied firmly. Kili felt the point of his dagger. He had sharpened it only that morning.

Lady Carba ran with her skirts bunched in her fists down the long hallways of Erebor, following the echoes of angry voices. Rounding the corner, she saw Fili and Kili leading Onkra away, slowly away with daggers pointed at her backside, but she didn't stop to watch.

"Father!" she cried. "Lord Dain! Your son!"

Both turned at her fearful face, and she held out Oin's list. Dwalin stepped in to listen.

"What is it, Carba?" her father asked. He looked over at Dain, who had clutched his chest.

"You son is failing, my lord," she said panting, "but your healer may carry what he needs. Oin made out a list, but I don't know who your healer is."

Dain ran into the Great Hall and barked out a name. A head lifted, and the dwarf came to the door and bowed.

"My lord … how may I…," he began.

"No time for that," Dain interrupted. "Do you have what's on this list?"

The healer's eyes widened and he looked up with shock.

"She's always asked for these," he replied, and he held his fingers to his mouth and nodded. "Yes, I have large supplies of each. I have some in my bag here, but most of the supply is with our packs."

Lord Kerba looked suspicious.

"What do you use them for?"

Dain pulled on his healer's arm and told him to give Lady Carba his bag, but her father took it instead. All those years of running up and down hills with sacks of coal on his back made him swift indeed, and his daughter had followed in those steps as well.

"Bring the rest to Oin in the healing rooms," Dain ordered.

He gave his healer a shove when he didn't move. "Hurry!"

Then Kerba and Dwalin sprinted with Lady Carba back to the healing rooms. Dain followed behind.

"Out of the way!" Dwalin shouted, and dwarves parted and stood against the walls while they ran on.

They entered the healing rooms to hear panicked shouts and cries. The lords sitting and lying on cots made not a sound, but all faced the open door.

"Hold his head! Get his head up!"

"We're losing him! We're losing him!"

Nella dashed out to prepare for when the herbs arrived. She saw Lady Carba and the others run in and called for Oin who hustled out with a grim look on his face.

"With me, my lords and lady," he said with a cock of his head toward a long table. Lady Carba and her father grabbed mortars and pestles and joined Oin and Nella. Dain stood behind them feeling useless until Lord Kerba took pity on him and gave him the task of taking the herbs out of their linen pouches and separating out the freshest ones. Bemma ran for the water and worked with the others to prepare as much medicine as possible.

"Do you know why your healer keeps such large quantities of these herbs on hand?" Kerba muttered out of the side of his mouth. Dain shrugged, and Kerba grimaced.

"Something tells me we'll find out soon enough," he said. "Prepare yourself, Dain. Something's amiss here."

Inside, Thorin slapped gently at Frain's face while Relianna cried out drowsily from her bed. Her brother's head fell back, and Balin put his ear to Frain's chest while Thorin looked for any signs that he was still breathing.

"Don't leave us, brother," she pleaded in a rasping voice while holding her hand on the bandages on her throat. Her fear sharpened her pain. "We have everything to live for now, so hold on!"

Lord Meldin of Ered Luin pushed off his cot and came to where Dwalin was watching. He had heard enough.

"If an extra pairs of hands wouldn't go amiss?" he ventured.

Dwalin nodded and tugged on his arm. Thorin and Balin were trying to sit Frain up, and Lord Meldin pushed in to help.

"Thorin, we need to keep his airway open," Balin said while trying to hold on to Frain who leaned heavily against him. "The lad's going to stop breathing any second if he hasn't already."

Dwalin pressed his lips together and then strode forward. He clapped his meaty hands on Frain's cheeks and leaned in.

"WAKE UP, ya ugly mutt," he bellowed, "or I'll slit your ears and turn you into a prancing, poncy ELF!"

Frain's eyes rolled in their sockets, but he managed to lift his lids enough to see through his lashes. Oin bustled in with a pitcher and Nella and Lady Carba carried glasses. Dain lingered outside the door, not sure if his presence would make matters worse. Kerba stood with him.

"That was brave of you to own up to what you did," Kerba said quietly.

"And what I didn't do," Dain answered with his mouth turned down. "I'll never forgive myself."

Kerba patted him on the back.

"Yet out of this disaster came two brave children who would the pride and joy of any family," he replied. "It could be a new beginning for you."

Dain's eyes lit up, and he gazed hungrily into the next room.

"They must survive," he whispered fiercely, "they must!"

"Get his mouth open!" Oin ordered.

Lord Kerba left Dain with a final pat on the shoulder and joined the effort to keep Frain up and hold him steady while Bemma gently pulled his jaw down and coaxed him to drink as much as he could. He gagged, and it poured out the side of his mouth, but she urged him to keep drinking. By that time, Relianna was fully awake and took the glass from her hand. Tears ran down her face, but she steadied herself and ordered the others to pack pillows in behind Frain to keep him up and to mix more herbs into the water to make it thicker.

"Thicker liquids are easier to swallow," she said hoarsely through her now swollen throat, and she picked up the glass and held it to the light to make sure it was potent enough.

"Brother," she whispered in his ear, "we have the right dose now. It'll work if you can keep it all down. Please try. Please."

His head moved slightly, and he struggled to open his mouth. She motioned for Thorin to hold his head, and she opened his mouth while ignoring the throbbing under her chin.

"Swallow, Frain, get it all down this time," she begged.

She had to stop several times when it became clear that he was exhausted, but as soon as he could, he opened his mouth for more. His eyes were shut tight, and he soaked the sheets with sweat, but he was still fighting.

"By Mahal he's a brave lad," Meldin said to Kerba as they stood back and watched. "I take it you approve of Thorin's choice?"

Kerba nodded. "And you?"

Meldin dipped his head.

"I'd hardly go against my king," he replied in a low voice, "but more than that, Thorin's no fool to be taken in by a fortune hunter, and if anyone deserves happiness, he does. Besides, I've been listening. Brother and sister adore each other and neither would get treated until they were sure of the other. That kind of devotion's admirable. I see now how Thorin could lose his heart to her."

"And that's she a mixed-blood?"

Meldin shrugged.

"And that Onkra's a noble-born," he replied as if that answered for everything.

The team dosed Frain as much and as often as he could handle, and four hours later, he turned a corner for the better. Bemma traded off with Relianna in giving him his medicine, and finally, he opened his eyes long enough to see the tiny maid.

"I remember you," he rasped. Her cheeks burned, and one corner of his lip lifted. "Thank you."

Relianna leaned over to smooth his brow and sweep his damp curls away from his forehead. She was weak herself, but she wouldn't leave him until she was sure he was out of danger.

"I love you, Bear," she said soberly. "This one was close."

He blinked in agreement.

"Still here," he replied softly.

She kissed his forehead and then ran her hand across her eyes. Bemma saw her sag, and she helped her back to bed.

"Your Majesty!" she called urgently. Thorin came in right away and saw Relianna slumped against her pillows, her teeth chattering with pain. He had been talking rather strenuously with Dain about giving his children a chance to recover before deciding how to proceed. Oin came in and looked at his two patients.

"Thorin, I'm putting you in charge of Relianna," he said. "You wouldn't allow anyone else anyway." Then he turned to Bemma. "And you, young lady, are in charge of Lord Frain. Yes, you," he added when she looked alarmed. "You've a gentle, steady hand, and he needs someone quiet. He needs dosing every hour for the next three, and keep watch for fever, delirium, and pain. You have that?"

She clutched her joined hands to her chest and nodded.

"Don't worry, lass," he said kindly. "I'll be checking in as well, but they need sleep, and I'm not light on my feet." He called for Dwalin and Lord Meldin. "Move another cot in for Thorin, if you please."

After three hours, Oin pronounced brother and sister well enough to sleep without any more interruptions. By that time, Fili and Kili had returned from delivering Onkra.

"Have you seen, uncle?" Kili asked. Fili stood next to him, his brow creased and eyes concerned. "We've looked every …."

Oin held one finger to his lips and nodded toward the private room where Balin and Dwalin were looking in. Walking as softly as three dwarves possibly could, they crept back to see. A small lantern cast a soft glow in the room, and the brothers gasped at a shocking but most tender scene: Relianna sleeping peacefully between the two dwarves she loved best. Thorin lay curled his side with both arms holding her securely to his front. Their king had a little smile on his face, the tight lines of fear and anger smoothed away in peaceful slumber. They watched with wide eyes while he nuzzled the top of her head that was tucked gently under his chin and snuggled closer. Opposite her lay Frain whose left hand held her right against his chest. His head was bent toward hers. The three finally looked at peace, and those at the door took in the scene first with astonishment. Dwalin almost laughed at the young princes' faces.

"Back away slowly, lads," Balin said. "They've earned their rest."

How did I do? Let me hear from you! All comments are appreciated by this now exhausted author!

Uzbads: lords (not that they deserve the title! Quarreling old goats ...)