*Dodging pillows and other things thrown at me by frustrated readers.* No kidding, I wanted to get the wedding and wedding night in this chapter, but cramming it in didn't work, but I promise, promise (!) it's coming soon. In the meantime ...

Chapter 43

After some of Relianna's defenders left to attend to other business, Frain and Bemma told their story to those not in the know, which was all the rest.

"Well done," Lord Meldin said with a beaming smile. "You've got one of the best, lass, or should I say, my lady?"

"Not yet," Bemma said, "that's still … to be decided."

Frain enjoyed recounting the look on her face when he asked her if she loved him, and she slapped his arm.

"You should have seen the look on your face when Clea came in with that note from the guard."

His brows dropped over his eyes at the memory, and his lips pulled down, his sunny disposition gone in a moment. "Not something I want to remember."

"You mean that look?" Plumma asked, pointing a finger. Bemma screwed up her face and nodded.

"Pretty much," she said. He crossed his arms over his chest and pouted. "Yes, that's it exactly."

The others laughed, and she tugged on his arm, but he refused to budge. "I did choose you, Frain," she said with an adoring smile. Somewhat mollified, he looked down, and she laid her head against his arm. With a bashful grin, his joyful mood was restored, and he pulled her into his arms.

"And that's for good. No going back now."

"Never."

Standing apart, Thorin and Relianna watched them laugh and tease, and they turned to each other with the same thought.

"It's good to see him happy," he said. "No more running now. He can finally have a life."

"So happy. I've never seen him like this. Thank you, Thorin, for taking him in and making him welcome. It means more than you'll ever know."

"I can guess, love. Now let's see to your arm." They took their leave and left Frain surrounded by excited well-wishers. He was a little overwhelmed by the attention, but with Bemma on his arm, he rallied admirably.

"Come, Bemma," he said, "we've some things to discuss." After hugs from her friends, much kissing of hands, and more than enough blushing and giggles, they left to decide their future. Her friends were sincerely happy for her, happy and inspired.

"I volunteer to take care of Prince Fili," Plumma said.

"He's not sick," Furla said.

"No, but there are a few bottles left on the shelves."

Thorin walked Relianna back to the infirmary, careful to not to jostle her arm. Blood had spotted the thin cloth, but after what she had gone through before, neither thought much of it.

"Once again, love," he said, ushering her into the empty room, "but I swear now that my shadow will not darken this door for a long time to come."

She tossed him a saucy look, swung her hips, and laughed at his sudden surprise, which quickly turned to ardent interest. "I wouldn't take that oath if I were you. Maybe we'll be here again soon so Oin can check on our cub."

"Cub?"

"You are my Black Lion, aren't you?"

She had no time to prepare for the assault, but his response was immediate. Hands wove through her hair and lips pressed against her forehead, temples, cheeks, and mouth. One arm slid around the small of her back, and the other held her against him.

"A hungry lion," he said after a nibble on her earlobe. "A starving lion. Who will take pity on me?"

"Should I call for food?" she teased with a lick of her lips. He groaned and was about to reply when they heard a voice coming from the storeroom.

"Food? Oh, I've already sent for some platters, my lord," Nella said in a muffled voice. They heard some rustling and what sounded like racks of bottles rattling. "Oin said they might be needed." She popped her head out to see Thorin and Relianna staring at her with blank expressions. "I can ask them to rush if you wish."

The two turned to each other, and Relianna snorted with her hand over her nose, her merry eyes prodding him to do something. He didn't disappoint.

"Yes, thank you, Nella," he said with a nod at Relianna. "We are very hungry, but there's no need to rush. We can wait."

Nella's brow wrinkled at his rather strange delivery, but she nodded and ducked back into the storeroom just in time. Relianna was able to take in one rattling breath before her face turned red from laughter.

"We're well-matched, love," he said while tracing his forefinger down the curve of her cheek. Then he urged her in with a jerk of his chin and a smile. "Oin is waiting. Lord Dain is also back there." She hesitated and turned back, her merriment gone. He took her hand and pressed it between both of his.

"I told him I would listen to what he has to say, Thorin, but I want to know something first. What is he like, really?"

Pressing his lips together, he paused to consider. Describing dwarves in terms other than skill, integrity, and perhaps business sense wasn't the norm, so it took him a few moments to think through what she had asked.

"He's … emotional and can be impulsive," he said, measuring his words carefully. She snorted and pulled a face. "But he's devoted to his people and when he loves, he loves forever. He risked everything to come to our aid and he did it without hesitation." Her expression grew thoughtful. "He's not subtle by any means, but he's honest even when it costs him. He may rush headlong into battle, but he'll fight with everything he has."

She bit her lip and looked past him to the back rooms. "Do you think I should talk to him now and have done with it?"

"It's your decision, but I find that delaying can often increase difficulties."

"I'd like you to be there."

"Of course, love. Do you want Frain as well?"

Thorin sent for him, and he came at once. Lover and brother walked into a familiar room and took their seats beside her. As soon as Dain saw them, he nodded in understanding and waved for Oin to take care of her first.

"But your cut is deeper, Dain."

"I said I'll wait."

Sighing, Oin did as he bid and cleaned the cut on Relianna's arm.

"No stitches needed, I think," he said. Once done he turned to Dain, "but you'll need a few."

He nodded and held out his hand. Oin handed him a glass of whiskey, but he turned it down. "I need to stay clear."

Relianna protested and argued that he should take it, that the conversation could wait, but he wouldn't hear of it.

"I've waited long enough," he said. There was no doubt of his sincerity. "May I call you Relianna?"

She took a deep breath and nodded. He said nothing while Oin stitched him, and only a slight squint of one eye hinted at pain. Frain patted her hand, and Thorin pulled his chair in when Oin finished and packed up his supplies, leaving the four sitting in an awkward silence. Blowing out her breath, Relianna opened her mouth to speak, but Dain held up his bandaged hand.

"Forgive me, Relianna," he said, "but I want you to know I'll answer whatever you ask and accept whatever you decide. I … tried to come between you and Thorin, tried to force my way, and I'm sorry. I won't do that again. Ever."

She nodded, impressed by his openness, but Thorin did say it was like him.

"Thank you. I'm ready to listen."

Tears flowed again while Dain retold the story, and Thorin kept squeezing her hand and handing her handkerchiefs while Frain pushed dry clothes to Dain who kept picking them up without noticing where they came from.

"I'd have done anything for her," he said with a dab at his eyes. "I'd have given up my birthright and turned miner just to have her with me, but my people, to let them die, to see'em lyin' there with their dead eyes open … I couldn't do it … watch the wee ones cry …." He bent his head and covered his eyes with a handkerchief. His shoulders shook, and the cloth wet through in great splotches. "I died the day I signed the agreement," he said with a rasp.

She said nothing for a long time before asking her questions, many of them the same as Frain's. Like then he answered completely, and at the end she saw what Frain had seen. Their mother was far from a victim, and Lord Dain was far from a villain. Brother and sister knew their mother was both strong-willed and generous enough to have made the decisions Lord Dain described. It was a terrible tragedy, but not of his making. "What about Onkra?" she asked. "What will happen to her now?"

Frain and Thorin leaned closer, wanting to know what indeed would be Onkra's fate. As long as she had any influence, she was a threat, no matter how small—figuratively speaking—and neither would allow her any chance at hurting Relianna again.

"She's been banished from the Iron Hills," Dain said, "and will leave here when all arrangements have been made. The ravens should have reached her kin by now notifying them that my army will go to war if a single member steps beyond their borders. Thorin, I trust you'll stand with me if that happens?"

"With all my heart."

Dain dipped his head and turned to Relianna. "I can never make up to you and the others what she did, but I promise I will take care of them and their families. They'll have enough to need never work again."

Twisting her hands in her lap, she sat in silence, trying to digest what she had heard. Looking to Frain, she asked if he would step outside with her. They walked back into their old room, and she turned with her fists clenched at her side.

"You're going back, aren't you? I can see it in your eyes." He hesitated and tried to gauge her reaction, but she gave away nothing.

"Yes, I would like to … Bemma and I talked … but I won't if you want me to stay. I owe you that for all you've done for me. I want you to be completely happy now. You deserve it."

Her face crumpled, and he opened his arms and hugged her close. "Shhh, sister, don't cry. It's not a hard decision to make, and Bemma loves you. She'll understand."

She shook her head on his shoulder. "I don't know what I did to deserve you. Mahal was gracious to me, so very gracious." He lifted her head and kissed her on the cheek.

"I win either way, Reli. I won't regret my decision."

"I know, Frain, and I won't regret mine either. I want you to go."

"What?"

"I want you to go," she said with a tearful smile. "I want you to follow your heart." She waved away his protest. "I know that Bemma told you of her family there and how devoted she is to them. Mahal, that's the only reason she put up with Onkra."

"Hideous hag to hold what her cousin did over her," he said after he made Bemma explain why she ever worked for Onkra in the first place. "Made her work like a slave to keep him out of trouble."

"It's over now, brother, but she wants to go back, and you deserve your birthright if you want it. I won't stand in the way of that. Besides, you need what's there."

He looked at her from under his lashes, trying to see if she meant what she said. Holding his gaze without faltering, she nodded and placed her hand on his heart.

"I am happy, brother, completely happy. We have more than we ever dared dream. I never thought it would come true."

"Neither did I," he said. He rolled his eyes and chuckled. "That Thorin Oakenshield would actually fall in love with you—not that you don't deserve him, of course—but that the two of you would ever meet and it actually happen …"

"I know. I still can't believe it myself, and I never thought he'd be so passionate and …"

"Let's just stop there, shall we?" he said. He worked his jaw and tried to calm his protective instinct. "No, no, I never thought so either, not that I spent any time thinking about him—at least not until lately. If it weren't for me, you'd already be with child."

She scoffed and crossed her arms. "You mean if it weren't for me, brother, and Thorin's been behaving himself—mostly."

He groaned and covered his eyes. "I don't want to know." She giggled at the pained look on his face and took pity on him.

"Of course we're waiting as is right."

"He didn't want to," he pointed out. "He really didn't want to."

"I know, but he knows I do, and ... underneath it all, he wants to as well."

"It's the 'underneath it all' part that bothers me."

"Now don't start, brother. He's been wonderful. He told himself to do the honorable thing."

"That must have been some conversation."

Arm in arm, they went back into the room, and Thorin and Dain stood up for them. The old warrior looked at the contented smiles on his children's faces and knew that some measure of reconciliation had been decided. He wanted to grab them both to his chest but held back, determined not to scare them off now.

"We want to tell you what we've decided," Frain said. "Father, I want to go back with you to the Iron Hills."

"As my acknowledged son?"

"Yes."

Dain's mouth quivered and he held his fist to it until he could trust himself to speak. Somehow the oil lamps burned brighter, the air smelled fresher, and life held much more worth. His son with Tamra. The son of his heart and son in truth. To have his son by his side, well, he'd never doubt that miracles happened ever again.

"As my heir?"

Frain hesitated. "Bemma and I haven't decided that yet, but if she is willing then yes."

Dain managed not to fall to his knees, but he couldn't help weeping openly. "My boy, my boy, my son, my son." He stepped forward and swung his arms wide. After the merest hesitation, Frain stepped into them and let Dain stroke his head, knowing that he too needed healing and a moment to make up for so much. It looked odd to see the much shorter lord stroking the hair of his much taller son, but no one could mock the love he held for Frain or his delirious joy at having part of Tamra back again. When they finally broke apart, they grabbed more handkerchiefs from the diminishing pile.

Relianna observed their interaction, more specifically Dain's reaction, and turned to see Thorin watching her. He raised his brows but said nothing, and she reached over, squeezed his hand, and nodded. Relaxing at once, he kissed her fingers and mouthed, "I love you." She waited until her father had blown his nose before walking over to him. Hastily wiping his nose and mustache, he stood at attention.

"Lord Dain, I think you should know that when I learned I was your daughter and that you wouldn't see me to find out if it was true I was very angry and wanted nothing to do with you." He hung his head and nodded, fully accepting her reaction. Stepping behind her, Frain put his hands on her shoulders. "I believed you cast mother off to suit yourself, and I believed the worst of you for Onkra. I'm still not quite … resolved about that, but I know now you're not fully to blame for what had happened. I want to forgive you. I'm not there yet, but I want to be."

Not sure how to respond, Dain looked behind her to Frain and then to Thorin for what to do next. Should he hug her? Kiss her hand? What would be acceptable? What would offend? Not knowing the right thing to do, he did nothing and stood there blinking at her with wide eyes. Relianna couldn't help but smile at his confusion and opened her arms to him.

"I'm not so cold-hearted that I would refuse my father a hug."

That was more than he hoped to hear, but unlike with Frain, he shuffled forward, almost shy. One step, then another. Reaching out his hand, he stopped to assess her reaction, and then touched her cheek with tips of his fingers. His toughened and rough fingers felt the silk of her skin, and he gazed on her with the rapture of one who saw Valinor beckoning. "My beautiful daughter, I deserve nothing but scorn ... I am so ..." His voice cracked, and he stiffened, holding himself rigid so the rest of him wouldn't break. "… grateful for your generosity." Bridging the gap, she stepped toward him, and he folded her in his arms and held her head to his chest. His hair mingled with hers, and a mass of curly and wavy red-gold hair spilled over his shoulders and down his arms. "My sweet girl, my sweet, sweet girl."

Neither said anything, but as they rocked back and forth, sniffles became tears, and tears became sobs. Stroking her hair as he did Frain's, he hushed her gently. Scarred hands ran with care down the length of her hair and back again while Frain and Thorin watched mesmerized. Leaning his cheek against the top of her head, he crooned a soft lullaby into her curls. The other two were so taken aback that when Dain waved his hand for a handkerchief for her, they were slow to respond.

"There, there, my child, all will be well," he said, and he wiped her tears away. "I will take my cue from you. Have no fear. I've learned my lesson well." She nodded and stepped away into the comfort of Thorin's embrace. They watched Dain, somewhat expecting some kind of emotional breakdown, but he defied their expectations, sat down, and slapped his hands on the arms of his chair. "Ah, where is it?" Looking around him, he found the bottle of whiskey and poured himself a drink. He felt whole in a way he hadn't since Tamra died, and the joy that was buried with her had been reborn. There was nothing for it except to celebrate.

"Anyone else?" he asked. Shrugging at their lack of response, he downed three glasses in quick succession and suppressed the belch that rumbled in his stomach. "Ah!"

"How did you know how to do that, father?" Frain asked.

"Do what?"

"Comfort Relianna like that. Where did you learn a lullaby of all things?"

Dain tugged on his belt, burped behind his hand, and begged pardon. "Your mother taught me, and I practiced on the wee sick ones. I wanted to be the best father for our child, so your mother taught a clumsy soldier how to hold a wee one and sing."

"Do you also change nappies?" Frain asked. Dain coughed and nodded.

"Aye, and I learned how to avoid the water spout, if you take my meaning. I wanted to be a real papa, not some bloke who hands the little one off for the dirty work. There's nothing to it after all. You just have to hold your breath, if you take my meaning."

Emotions flitted across their faces almost too fast to catch. Thorin landed on surprise, Relianna settled on cautious respect, and Frain pounced on glee.

"No kidding?" he said. "Fancy that, sister. Thorin?"

"I'll do my share when the time comes, Frain, never fear."

"Oh, I won't because you'll face her wrath if you don't hold up your end—or theirs."

Dain guffawed at his joke, his belly shaking like aspic. He had hoped his children were close. The story of their lives had devastated him, and he wanted to believe that they had each other at least. That they did and more. Their obvious love was a wonder to behold, and Frain's sense of humor delighted him. He didn't know what to expect when Tamra told him she was expecting, but he couldn't imagine better. She must have been enormously proud. He already was. As with her, he didn't care about their blood, and he would make sure that no one else did either. His people would accept them. This time he wouldn't fail.

Fair conclusion? Dain is trying after all, so I thought this was a good compromise. Da-da-de-dum, da-da-de-dum coming soon! Stay tuned!