Howdy friends and hello new readers! Here's the next chapter. After all the drama, I thought you (and me!) could use a change. Please review!

Chapter 31

Over the next week, Frain and Relianna did little else but sleep while they recovered, unmindful of the tug of war beyond the door. Oin did everything he could to keep Dain out of their room and away from the infirmary. More than once, he tried to slip in or argue his way through, saying that he had been denied his children long enough. He was an imposing presence, his stocky frame covered by thick furs and his long mane and wild beard the color of his daughter's hair. Only their frequent need of sedatives and tinctures for pain kept his children from hearing his booming voice demanding entrance. Nella held him off for as long as she could, and Oin took over when Dain ordered her to step aside. Lord Kerba, who was helping the last of the lords out the door, stepped in to listen to the latest episode along with Lord Meldin.

"They nearly died, Dain," Oin stressed once again to the huffing and puffing Lord of the Iron Hills, "so you need to give them some time. Need I remind you that this is the second attempt on your daughter's life and that your son took a dagger in the stomach?" He decided to keep the head injury to himself.

Kerba and Meldin shared a look over Dain's head and came forward to lend a hand or two.

"Why don't you let them sleep while we have a drink?" Kerba said in a soothing tone. "It won't do you or them any good to fret."

"Aye," Lord Meldin seconded, "a lot's happened and needs to get sorted out. Come with us," and putting their hands on his shoulders, they almost marched him out the door. Oin's shoulders dropped.

"I think we need reinforcements," he tossed over his shoulder to Nella. "We can't hold him off forever."

Unfortunately, Fili and Kili chose that time to visit and walked down the corridor with jaunty smiles, swapping stories about Frain and Relianna between whoops of laughter. They had visited since the fiasco in the Great Hall with jokes and funny stories to keep their spirits up. Brother and sister had done remarkably well so far, and their cousins wanted to do their bit to let them know that their family was still behind them. Turning a corner, they saw Dain and sobered up, but he had heard their merriment and guessed where they were heading. Scowling as they walked by with a respectful dip of their heads, he stopped in the hallway and stomped after them. It was inconceivable that they should visit, mere cousins, when he, their father, couldn't. But he was pulled back by his peers, who gripped his shoulders tighter.

"Truthfully, Dain," Kerba said, giving him a direct look, "everything that's happened hit them hard, and you need to give them room enough to come to their own decisions about who they are and what they want from you." If anything, he thought grimly.

But Dain shook off their arms with a loud grunt and threw out his chest.

"There's nothing to decide," he said. His hands clenching into tight fists. "They're my children, and they will take their rightful places." He held their eyes but didn't find the support he wanted, and after a short standoff, he stretched his neck and cupped his forehead with one hand, all bluster gone.

"They're all I have," he said with his eyes on the ground. "All I have of Tamra, all I have of the love we shared, and all I have that's worth anything in my life." He flung his head up with sudden force. "And I won't let them go."

The lords eyed each other and sighed. They understood his position and even sympathized to some degree, yet he had no right—as much as he might want one—to make demands of any kind.

"Meanwhile, a drink, Dain," Kerba said. "No one's going anywhere today." He spared a moment to wonder what their "rightful places" might be. Frain's he knew, but his sister's?

Thorin will have more than a few words to say if Dain tries to assert his authority over her. What a fight that would be.

And one he had no stomach for.

Nella had taken over caring for Relianna since Thorin had pressing matters that only he could to attend to, but he visited often. Meanwhile, Bemma continued to care for her brother, which earned her the rabid envy of other maids. They watched the dazzling prince take on Zozer alone, and his bravery and looks made more than one swoon.

"His voice is so tender," a plump maid gushed, "so warm. So he's a healer, eh? I wonder what his hands could do, being as skilled as they are, and those eyes!"

Each day when she returned from the infirmary, her companions gathered around and asked for every detail. No tidbit was too small. Thorin was also a topic of conversation, but since he was already spoken for, the clutch of maids turned their attention to his gloriously blond cousin.

"Do you give him baths?" another maid asked while fanning her chest, her eyes nearly bulging with excitement. "Is he wearing a shirt or is he, he … you know, not wearing anything?"

Bemma grimaced at their unceasing questions and deflected them as best she could, but inside, she felt a little glow.

In truth, Frain wore a loose tunic so Oin could check on his stomach and apply soothing salves to speed the healing of the bleed that covered more than half his abdomen. The tunic hung low, almost down to his navel, and she had a continual look at his strong chest and toned muscles. She always took a deep breath and put her hand just below her throat before she walked in the room, willing herself to stay calm while she readied his ointments. Sometimes, he leaned back with a soft moan while they eased the constant throb of his thick bruise. Even pale and given to dizzy spells, he was beautiful, and she steeled herself each time she approached him like one forced to stand too close to a fire.

"Are you hungry, my lord?" she asked with her eyes on the floor. He chuckled, and she peeked under her lashes in surprise. He observed her with bright blue eyes dancing with mischief and mouth twitching with amusement.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to that, my lady," he said in his most charming voice, "so please call me Frain. It isn't too hard to pronounce, is it?"

She turned bright red and stammered her refusal while Relianna watched with a hidden smile. His teasing unnerved her friend, but his slightly mocking expression roused Bemma's indignation, and she forgot his appearance.

"My lord," she said, now looking him dead in the eye, "it wouldn't be seemly. You are the Prince of the Iron Hills whether you want the title, and I'm a simple maid."

He leaned forward to make a smart remark but squeezed his eyes shut instead, and she rushed forward with a tincture for pain. He waved it away, but she gave him a stern look and held his head while he drank. His eyes clouded over, and he eased back with her hand on the back of his neck.

"Are you still feeling dizzy, my lord?" she asked. She put her hand on his forehead. "You've eaten hardly a thing in days, and you're still so pale. How bad is the pain? Is your headache sharp or dull?"

With her help, he pushed up to a more comfortable position and smiled, his face wan and taut with pain. Soon enough though, the drug eased the muscles of his face, and he sank into the pillows, mustering a tired lift of his mouth at her concern, his eyes following her movements while she fluffed a few pillows. A few minutes later, he stretched in relief and allowed her to pull up his tangled sheets.

"Quite the healer now, aren't you, my lady?" he asked with a cheeky quirk of his mouth. He took her hand after she finished fussing with the blankets. "I'll not forget your kindness—or the way you order me around."

Relianna giggled at the flummoxed look on Bemma's face. To make matters worse, he slowly kissed the back of her hand, and she goggled, unable to mouth a coherent word.

It's a rare event for me to be the patient," he commented. "At least lately." He reached out his hand to his sister and waved his fingers for her to take them. "But I think I'm enjoying this more than you."

Relianna said nothing, her eyes betraying her frustration. When he wasn't in pain or exhausted from the waves of weariness, he made it his mission to keep her entertained, but her only real distraction was a handsome dwarf king with flashing blue eyes. She tried to stay awake for his frequent visits, but both Frain and Oin worried that she wasn't getting enough rest.

"I've never been good at this," she whispered, her throat still swollen. Part of it itched and part of it burned, but she smiled gamely. "When is Thorin coming next? Did he say?"

He rolled his eyes and huffed in annoyance. He liked his future brother-in-law and was gratified by his steadfast devotion to his sister, but Thorin's visits exhausted her, yet she never let him know. Afterward though, her head drooped, and her forehead pinched in pain. Frain decided he needed to have a little chat with Erebor's king.

"About every hour on the hour, I would say," he muttered. "You'll never heal at this rate." He twisted his neck back to Bemma, and his furrowed brow smoothed into a roguish smirk.

"Fair healer," he started, pleased at the becoming blush on her cheeks, "I will make you a bargain. If you call me Frain and not my lord, then I will call you Bemma and not my lady, for at the moment, we're both just healers."

Before she could stop it, an impish smile appeared on her lips, and she folded her arms, taking the bait. He was delighted by her spirit and the proud lift of her chin, and he leaned back and watched in anticipation. He had no Thorin to visit him, so he took diversion where he could.

"Hardly, my lord, since there's only one healer in the room at present, and it isn't you or your sister." He guffawed at her quick wit.

"But do we have a deal?" he asked with a straight face. "I am … uncomfortable with the turn of events, and I don't want anyone forcing me into a role I haven't accepted."

At that, her eyes grew round. She hadn't considered how upsetting these revelations were for him, and she looked stricken.

"Forgive me, my, my ... Frain," she stuttered. "Most dwarves would be honored and thrilled by such a change in their station but, of course, it's been a shock. I suppose I would feel the same if I found out that my father …." She trailed off flustered and twisted her hands.

But he shook his head and urged her not to fret, making light of his situation to make her smile.

"At least I found out I'm a prince," he teased. "Better that than finding out I'm wanted in three kingdoms."

She couldn't help but giggle at his absurd jest.

"That's more like it," he said with a genuine smile. "So tell me about yourself."

Relianna found it hard to restrain her delight at watching him with her friend, and she started laughing. Both looked over at her in confusion, and she tried to get out words between snorts of glee.

"Flirting from your bed, brother?" she rasped. "How inappropriate yet how like you."

She turned to see him flush and Bemma blanch. At their stunned expressions, she laughed harder and then grabbed her throat and coughed. For a moment, she struggled to breathe, and Bemma rushed to prepare the syrup that Oin left her on a night table.

"Bemma," he ordered, his expression suddenly serious, "get Oin in here now."

She flew out the door and called for him urgently. Oin wasted no time and came in with Thorin, whose eyes widened in alarm.

"Now, now, my lady," Oin said, tutting with disapproval, "I told you to keep still and not strain. This is what you get for disobeying my orders."

Thorin pulled up a chair and helped her drink the syrup, lifting her chin with his hand.

"Hush now, love," he said, "and listen to him. Otherwise you'll be here longer."

She nodded with a pout, and held out her hand. Soon the sedative made her eyes heavy, but she fought it, arching her neck and blinking rapidly.

"I can't do this any longer," she croaked. "I'll go mad if I don't get up."

Slowly though her protests grew weaker until she finally drifted off into unhappy sleep. Frain watched his sister and, from long habit, assessed her condition. His conclusions left a crease between his brows and he asked to speak to Thorin alone. His face turned grave after the door shut.

"She's not resting," he said with a grim set to his mouth. "She stays awake waiting for you to visit, but after you leave, she's exhausted and needs pain medicine. I'm worried that she's jeopardizing her recovery."

Thorin's face twisted in dismay, and he looked over at her sleeping.

"How often should I visit then?" he asked, hoping that a suitable arrangement could be worked out.

Frain looked up at the ceiling while he thought through what she needed.

"I'll say three times a day," he decided. "Once in the morning, once in the afternoon, and once in the evening. She can take naps in between visits. If she gets enough rest, she'll be on her feet in a few days, but even then she'll have to take it slow …."

They caught each other's skeptical expressions and scoffed simultaneously at the thought of her ever taking it slow.

"I know," Frain said, "she never does, but she must now. I trust you can find ways to help her?"

Thorin nodded in acknowledgement, and Frain grinned. Thorin took stock of his condition after noticing Frain's pallor and sluggish movements.

"And you?" he asked. "How are you faring?"

Frain winced and looked over Thorin's shoulder to see Oin and Nella listening in for his answer. As a healer, he knew what his condition was and what he needed, but as patient, he too was anxious to be up and out of the sick room. He felt like the four walls were moving closer each hour and would soon become a crypt, and he shook his head to dispel his melancholy.

"If I were talking about someone else, I'd say he was in pretty poor shape. I don't doubt that there was some internal bleeding to match the bleeding on my scalp, but with time and rest, I'll recover. I always have. I'll need to watch walking around though. I'm still unsteady and have frequent sharp headaches, but they'll pass. Probably in a few weeks, but it's not good for me to lie abed either, so I should walk a few steps and stretch when I'm able."

Thorin turned around and watched Oin's face for confirmation. The old healer nodded.

"He knows what he's talking about," he said. "He's a fine healer, and I suspected the same."

Thorin patted his cousin's arm briskly and stood. He gazed at Relianna and then drew himself up and pressed his lips together.

"I suspect it will be as hard for me not to see her," he said, and he waved his hand at Frain's unspoken protest, "but I will abide by your instructions for her sake."

An hour later, his sister awoke and was most upset by her brother's orders, but Frain would have none of it.

"You won't ever get out of here if you don't rest, sister dear," he said firmly. "You'd say the same to anyone else, so I'm saying it to you."

She glared at him, her mouth scrunching up in displeasure.

"And what about you, brother?" she replied, rolling over slightly to face him. "What's your advice to yourself?"

He sighed and took her hand.

"I am most unwell, sister," he said softly. "I won't deny that I almost died, and I believe that my frequent headaches come from pressure in my head. I hope it will heal as before, and that the pain will subside, but you'll recover long before me."

Her face fell, and all resentment disappeared.

"I'm so sorry, Frain," she said. She held out her hand for him to take. "I didn't mean to be so peevish. Forgive me."

He gave her fingers a squeeze.

"I know," he said with an affectionate smile. "It's not in our nature to be still."

Just then a light knock sounded, and Nella stepped in with a carefully neutral expression.

"You have visitors if you are well enough to see them," she said a little more formally than usual.

Brother and sister glanced at each other, and Frain raised his brows. Tugging on her curls, she tried to smooth her hair and arrange her loose gown, and he straightened his tunic. She felt a flutter of nerves tingle her stomach and looked up to see her twin watching her face intently. He blinked his understanding.

"I won't let anyone harm you, sweetheart," he said. Turning to Nella with the self-possession of a prince, he said, "Show them in."

Lord Kerba and Lady Carba stepped into the room and shut the door behind them. Frain stiffened and threw his sister a look, holding out his arm in an attempt to protect her, but before he could speak, father and daughter smiled, and he bowed deeply while she curtsied.

"My lord and lady," he said after straightening to his full height, "I am Lord Kerba, and this is my daughter, Lady Carba. We wished to make your acquaintance and tell you how pleased we are for Thorin."

Shifting uncomfortably, Frain felt at a disadvantage having this tall lord towering over him, and his eyes narrowed. He held his palm up to his sister to let him take the lead in this and folded his arms across his chest.

"Forgive me, my lord, for not being more welcoming," he said flatly, "but mixed-bloods don't often receive such a reception, and never from the nobility, so you'll forgive my mistrust. My sister has suffered enough from the uzbads as it is, and I won't tolerate more."

Kerba nodded and smiled.

"I understand your hesitation," he said, "but we're rather like outcast ourselves, aren't we, Carba?" She snorted in amusement and gave a little giggle.

"Yes, indeed, father," she replied with a mischievous smile. "We don't exactly walk in step with the uzbads, and that is …"

"All the better for us," he finished with a hearty laugh. Then he grew more serious but kept his smile.

"If it helps," he said, turning to smile first at Relianna and then at her brother, "we have Thorin's permission to visit, but we won't keep you long."

Frain questioned his sister with his eyes, and she shrugged, not sure what to make of the pair.

"How well do you know, Thorin, my lord?" she asked, careful not to irritate her throat. His expression softened to one of true affection.

"I don't have a son or nephew," he said, "and Thorin is the closest I'll ever have to either. He doesn't know this, but I'm very fond of him. Whenever I came to Erebor, I made sure to ask Relia how he was, and nothing makes me happier now than to see him in love."

Relianna and her brother looked from father to daughter, trying to discern any ill intent, but at the name of Queen Relia, both breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed against their pillows.

"We came by," he said, "to let you know that you aren't friendless outside Erebor."

The knob jiggled before it turned and another head poked in.

"And that goes for me and my family as well," said a plain-faced dwarf dressed in red brocade. His voice was jolly, and his eyes twinkled with good humor. "Lord Meldin of Ered Luin at your service." He looked around the crowded room and frowned. "You're taking up too much room, Kerba. Budge on over."

Kerba scoffed at him with a friendly roll of the eyes, and the other lord chuckled with his whole body, his ample stomach bouncing in amusement. Stepping forward, he kissed Relianna's hand and gave Frain a jaunty wink. Hopeful smiles curved on their lips, and Frain shook his head in amazement.

"We're deeply honored, my lords," he said, "and very happy to make your acquaintance."

Lord Meldin grinned, showing off all his teeth, then turned and put his hand on the door frame.

"Well, I must be off," he said. "I'd like to stay, but I have someone to keep an eye on. It's been a pleasure," and he left chuckling. Their eyes followed him out.

"Good dwarf, he is," Lord Kerba said. "He'll be a staunch ally."

Relianna cleared her throat with care and attempted to speak, but it took her several tries before she could be heard.

"I understand why he would be," she said. Frain nodded. "But what connection do you have to Erebor, my lord?" she asked while keeping her eyes on his daughter.

He caught her stare and divined the reason behind it, and he looked on Thorin's choice with kind eyes.

"I supply Erebor and other kingdoms in this region with coal, my lady, as does Lord Meldin for those on the other side of the Misty Mountains."

It took no time for brother and sister to understand the significance of his words.

"What would have happened to Erebor if you sided with the uzbads?" Frain asked.

Lord Kerba took a deep breath. He hoped that the lad in front of him wouldn't treat him differently because of his importance, but if he did, he'd quash that right away.

"Erebor would be crippled," he said as though it was a small matter. "The great forges would stop operating, and all smelting operations would cease. My best guess is that Erebor would eventually become uninhabitable since it uses coal for heat in the winter. There certainly aren't enough trees to supply its needs, but Thorin is resourceful, so I can only guess."

He seemed so unassuming at first that Frain thought him a minor lord. His dress and that of his daughter's weren't at all impressive, but his words said otherwise, that before him stood a dwarf who perhaps was responsible for Erebor's continued existence.

"I apologize for my earlier words," he said in a deferential tone. Kerba frowned and shook his head. Lady Carba winced.

"I've no stomach for fatuous fawning, lad, so don't start," he said with a wag of his finger. "I judge people based on character, and I like yours—and your sister's. You both showed extraordinary courage and devotion, and that's what I wanted to see. I don't judge you on your blood, so don't you judge me on my status."

Frain observed his stance and the sternness of his face, and he gave a short nod. After watching their exchange, Relianna spoke to Lady Carba. She couldn't understand why she seemed so cheerful at not being chosen. She would be heart-broken if she were Lady Carba.

"You aren't upset, Lady Carba, at Thorin's choice? But I'm sure you must be very disappointed."

To her surprise, she laughed, and her father patted her on her shoulder.

"Not at all," she replied. "I was never interested in King Thorin. I came to see Erebor's library. Please don't misunderstand me. King Thorin is most worthy, but I have no wish to marry at present, but since father wanted to see him, I thought I'd come too. I had my time with the king along with the rest, but I think I unsettled him," and she told them what had happened. Frain and Relianna looked stunned and struggled to contain themselves.

"I wish I could have seen his face!" he crowed.

Carba frowned, pulled out her journal, and flipped through a number of pages.

"I never did get his views on mining guilds."

"And don't worry about the uzbads, that gaggle of geese," Lord Kerba said in the middle of a companionable chat. "Thorin led the charge to put them in their place, and I brought up the rear. They won't bother you again." Relianna and Frain listened with open astonishment, and their brows inched higher.

"How did you accomplish that?" he asked in wonderment.

Kerba cast a puckish glance at his daughter, who held her hand over her mouth.

"It wasn't hard," he replied. "I simply reminded them of their choices—it was you both or that hideous hag Onkra, who, by the way, is currently residing in the dungeon with only bread and water by order of Lord Dain."

Relianna's mouth fell open, and Frain goggled.

"No!" she said, and she put her fingers to her lips. "He really did that?"

Kerba nodded, happily reliving the moment.

"Aye, he took off his belt and threatened to whip her 'enormous behind' in his words."

Brother and sister shared matching looks of incredulity, and Kerba wagged his brows.

"Oh, and the Durin brothers walked her to the dungeon with daggers aiming south," he chortled. "Wouldn't surprise me if she got more than a few pokes. Dain handed Fili his own dagger with expressed permission to use it. I hope he did. Poetic justice if you ask me."

The room fell silent with all trying to picture what that must have looked like.

"They had the biggest smiles on their faces," Carba said. "I think everyone wanted to walk her down. I wouldn't have minded myself."

A moment of silence preceded an outpouring of mirth. Frain wrapped his arms around his middle, while Relianna clutched her throat, both trying not to strain their injuries. Oin threw the door open with Nella bobbing on her heels behind him.

"What in Mahal's name is going on in here?" he asked. Frain and Relianna looked up like guilty children, and Oin threw his hands in the air.

"You two will be the death of me," he growled, but he walked away smiling.

Relianna was delighted to find a friend in Carba, finding common ground in the loss of their mothers and natural curiosity about the world around them. Meanwhile, Frain and Lord Kerba carried on an animated discussion about various plants and their significance.

"So you're the author of the 'Classification of Medicinal Herbs,'" Frain said with reverence. "Mother carried a copy with her everywhere she went."

Kerba was most pleased to hear that, but Frain shifted, and his tunic slipped down. Father and daughter gasped.

"My dear lad," he asked in horror, "how could you have gotten such a bruise through mithril mail?"

Frain smiled tightly and flicked his hair aside. Kerba gasped again at the definite discoloration under his hair. Without asking permission, he leaned over and pushed Frain's hair aside behind his ear. Carba's eyes widened at the purple mottling that traveled down the back of his neck.

"This couldn't have come from a simple fall," Kerba said. His brow pinched together while he thought through the herbs he helped sort.

"Anticoagulant properties," he murmured. "Hmmm, taken together ..."

His head shot up, and he stared at Frain with alarm. He might have seen a ghost he sat so still, and Frain looked down to avoid his penetrating gaze.

"I don't believe it," Kerba exclaimed. "You're a bleeder! Oh, my lad, the risk you took!"

Frain lifted his chin, refusing to acknowledge his concern.

"It was nothing to save my sister," he said, "and I'll thank you not to pity me or treat me any different now."

Kerba eyed him and, this time, Frain didn't look away.

"Fair enough," the lord replied, "although you know you're one of a kind. Very well. I assume the Durins know, eh?"

Frain dipped his head.

"And Dain doesn't?"

"No."

Kerba put two fingers to his lips and glanced at his daughter who gazed at Frain with a mixture of admiration and sorrow.

"That'll be a shock on top of everything else," he murmured. "Dain will want to keep you even closer when he finds out."

His face grew solemn, and he leaned forward.

"He's determined that you take your rightful places," he said, "and we can't hold him back forever. I suggest you both decide what you want with him and soon."

Nope, Dain won't wait much longer. Stay tuned and please review. They are candy to a sweet tooth!