Summary: The dwarves had few females among them, even fewer female warriors. When Smaug took Erebor, many dwarves died. On that day, the few females who survived had a choice to make: remain within their domestic duties as best they could, or learn to fight. Herein is told the tale of Lina Firehammer who changed her life, and that of a king.
"Have you heard the rumors, my daughter?" Lorina murmured over her embroidery to her daughter. She shot a surreptitious glance over at her unconscious husband slumped in his favorite chair.
Lina followed her mother's gaze before replying.
"I have not. What rumors?"
"King Thror has become so enchanted with your pottery that he has chosen to make one of your mugs his chosen vessel for ale." Lorina fairly glowed with pride as she finished relating this latest rumor to her daughter. Certainly Dwarves, Men, and even Elves of status had taken notice of her daughter's work before. But to have the king take notice! If the rumors were true, oh the possibilities. Perhaps even escape from the life they now lived under Lorina's husband.
A small smile curved Lina's lips upward and an arrow of pride zipped through her. Even if it was simply a rumor, that her people were willing to believe her work was good enough for service to the king was enough for her.
When Lorina said nothing further, Lina returned to the small drawing she was making in the tiny book she'd commissioned from a fellow craftswoman. The design was six sided, six being a number chosen to represent power, masculinity, and responsibility. At the center of the design would be a golden stone much in the shape of the Arkenstone. The golden stone was chosen much as the number six, for its masculinity, its confidence, its success, and its power. The stone would also have six edges. Along the two uppermost edges, two blue stone would be set into the design: to give the bearer balance. Below the golden stone, would be three more blue stones symbolizing land, sea, and sky in addition to action. The five blue stones altogether would represent the five elements: water, wind, air, fire, and spirit. The blue color was to symbolize loyalty, honor, protection, and wisdom. Six stones altogether would be set into her design. The remainder of the space in the design would be filled with overlapping bands of metal.
The piece was designed to be a belt buckle, to protect the wearer and give him the benefit of the symbols contained within. Lina smiled at her completed design. She already had the stones, freshly cut from the best stone worker in Erebor. The metal she had forged herself. Now she needed only to put the whole thing together. Once completed, she intended to submit it anonymously, as many other craftswomen would do, to the collection of gifts for the celebration of Prince Thorin's twenty-fourth birthday.
As was tradition, the prince would select one gift from the anonymous collection to honor the people. If the gifts were of low quality, the royals selected the best gift and wore it only for the duration of the festivities before placing it with the other gifts in the treasury. If the gift was of high quality, the royal might choose to keep the piece for life. In any case, the anonymity of the craftswoman kept her both from ridicule if her gift failed or jealousy if the royal kept it permanently.
Lina hoped her gift would please the prince. She had taken precautions against anyone recognizing the piece as hers by having the stones for it cut at the same time as a number of others. The design was to be sent along with the buckle, to explain the meaning wrought into it, but also to keep others from ever stumbling upon the design in Lina's possessions.
That very night, when everyone had gone to sleep, Lina slipped away to her workshop to make the piece before delivery was required the following day. The stones fit into her design perfectly. It was as if the metal had grown in around them. Once completed, the buckle was flawless. Each stone shimmered in the light from the forge fires. The metal protected the stones from damage and the metal itself was nearly impervious to damage. It was a piece that could be worn both for show and for function. There would be no situation for which it was not suited.
Lina cradled the piece in her hands for a moment, thinking about the reasons for making it the way she had. Certainly a gift was required from her, but this piece far exceeded others she had made for Thror and Thrain in both thought and skill invested in it.
Her path rarely crossed with that of one of the royal family. In fact, she rarely saw Thorin. He had spent most of his years in combat training and learning to rule beside his father and grandfather. He only rarely descended into the marketplaces of Erebor. It was on one such visit that the young dwarven girl had first seen him.
Lina was different from other dwarven girls in one major way—many minor ways, but only one major way—that she did not actively pursue a mate. For one, it was not likely that she would be allowed to select a mate until nearly reaching her majority in another sixty years or so. For another, she simply had no interest in any dwarven men. Her own father's behavior had soured her against male companionship and left her without desire for a husband. Furthermore, no male she had seen to that point in her life had exuded the strength and power she desired in a mate. To have a weak husband was as much a curse as no husband at all for a dwarven woman. No, no male was strong enough or interesting enough to warrant pursuit as far as Lina was concerned. As far as she was concerned, there was not a dwarf in all of Middle-Earth who possessed the qualities she desired in a mate.
This belief she held until she happened to look up one day from her place in the market. She had been fitting a bracelet to a customer, adjusting the links to make it the perfect length, when movement caught her attention. Well, not merely movement as the market was constantly full of movement. This movement was more flurried. The other craftswomen and craftsmen were moving out of the way of a group of young male dwarves, bowing or curtsying as their gender dictated to the one at the forefront of the group.
Lina felt her breath catch in her throat. She felt as if she had been slammed into the living rock behind her. The presence of this obviously high-ranking dwarf was stifling. He was proud, and held himself thus. He was powerful and strong, moving with a grace and purpose belonging to one who was warrior-trained and highly skilled in that art. His dark hair flowed in loose waves around his head, and his beard, though not so glorious and long as other dwarves was clean and suited his face perfectly. But it was his eyes that caught Lina.
Icy blue and nearly as cold, they did not seem to miss anything. A frightening intelligence hid behind those deceptive blue eyes. They were hard and it was nearly impossible to meet his gaze without flinching. In fact, Lina saw many who tried and failed. They winced away from the ferocity in those eyes within a split second of meeting them. Yet Lina found she could not look away. The sheer power behind that gaze captivated her, heart and soul. The dwarf's eyes locked with hers, stilling the breath in her throat and setting her heart to racing. For what seemed eternity, Lina's gaze remained locked with his. Though she knew she should look away, that she never should have locked eyes with a dwarf of much higher rank than herself, she could not. Whether he held her motionless by force of will or her own intense interest in this dwarf bound her, she did not know.
The connection was broken as one of his companions who, oblivious to what was happening, stepped between them. Lina felt her body relax and she released the breath she had not realized she was holding in. She vaguely heard the dwarf's name—Thorin—and realized that was indeed who he was. The features he bore were very much like those of King Thror and Prince Thrain. Yet neither of them had captivated Lina's attention as Thorin had, for neither possessed the power and strength that Thorin exuded.
Lina dared not raise her eyes to meet Thorin's again, in part because she was of a rank far below his, but mostly due to the powerful sensations that had run through her body as their eyes met. She did not understand them. It was partly fear at how easily she had been captured. Yet they were also filled with an intense desire. A desire for what exactly, Lina did not know, but it was a powerful desire nonetheless.
The group passed Lina's stall by, and for once she was grateful that someone of high rank had passed by her stall without stopping. Had Prince Thorin paused, Lina feared she might have somehow made a fool of herself. She was thankful when the group had passed beyond the range of sight and hearing.
Lina smiled slightly at the memory. It was only a few years old. She had seen the young prince twice more since then, but was very careful not to meet his gaze on either of those occasions for fear of once more being captured. The buckle she had designed for his birthday this year was the result of her observations of him, of his power, and of his strength.
Like many of the other dwarven girls in their minority, Lina had fallen under the spell of Thorin. Unlike many of the girls who lusted only after the power he possessed as a prince and often dreamed of other dwarves they knew as their husbands, Lina desired him for the power and strength of his being. Though she never let herself dream that he ever would stoop to her level to—Valar forbid!—court her, she often dreamed of finding one like him. For the time being, she was at peace simply knowing that there existed at least one dwarf who possessed the qualities she desired in a mate.
Shaking herself out of her reverie, Lina quickly wrapped the buckle and the explanation of its meaning within a simple, unadorned piece of cloth. She shut down her workshop and slipped through the silent streets of Erebor to the place where craftsmen and craftswomen were to leave their gifts anonymously.
With her gift safely delivered, Lina retreated back to her silent house. For once she was grateful for her father's overindulgence in ale as he would have been furious to discover her sneaking back into his dwelling had he been conscious.
The next morning came earlier than Lina would have liked, but her excitement soon over powered her exhaustion. She could only hope that the prince at least gave her gift a second look. Even to catch his attention for a moment longer than other gifts would be more rewarding for her than if King Thror was to publically announce his usage of her pottery for his ale. After all, the buckle had been made specifically for Thorin. It would suit none other than he.
Lina's father awoke with a throbbing head which Lorina soon cured. Once his head was better, he was in much better spirits. The whole city was to attend feasts and parties the entire day to celebrate the prince's birthday. It was only on the occasion of a royal birthday that Lina dared to be herself within the house. It was only on these occasions—when everyone was to look their best—that he did not strike out at either Lina or Lorina.
Lorina's mother carefully plaited her daughter's thick blonde hair and settled one of Lina's own circlets around her head. She paused for a moment to look at her only child as Lina turned to face her. Her daughter was different in more ways than one from the other dwarven girls. Lorina had known that from the moment she first set eyes on her. Lina had far more delicate features that any other girl or woman among the dwarves. Her shoulders were broad, but not nearly as broad as those of most dwarves. Rather they were closer in width to those of a human girl. Her entire body was more slender than any dwarven woman Lorina had ever seen. Her nose was much smaller than any other. Though she was no taller than any of her dwarven year mates, Lina resembled a daughter of Men if she stood alone. She resembled the strong daughter of a farmer to be sure, but a daughter of Men nonetheless.
The crimson dress that hung on her daughter's frame brought out Lina's beauty in a way nothing else ever had. Lorina had made the dress and lovingly embroidered each silver rune on the hems of the sleeves, neck, and skirt. The deep red stones hanging from Lina's headpiece caught the light and glowed like flame.
"You look beautiful, Lina," Lorina whispered, brushing an errant strand of hair from her daughter's forehead.
"Thank you, mother," Lina replied, smiling at her aging mother.
"If only we could hide this," Lorina murmured sadly, trailing one finger along the still vivid scar that ran from Lina's temple to her jaw, missing her left eye by less than a finger's breadth.
Lina shook her head without responding and Lorina dropped her hand as Lina's father entered the room. He took one look at his daughter and wife in their best clothes and jewelry, grunted, and started out of the dwelling. The two women followed behind him, barring the home against intrusion before making the journey to watch the prince select his favorite gift from the craftspeople of Erebor.
As one of the craftspeople, Lina had been expected to make a gift and in doing so was allowed to be closer to the royal family than she would have otherwise. The massive gathering of dwarves was arranged according to rank. Dwarves of Lina's stature were lucky if they could even see the royal family from afar. But her status as a craftswoman placed her in a special, classless, group at the foot of the dais. It was a small honor the royal family paid to the craftspeople for the fame they brought to Erebor.
Lina stood, breathless as the gifts were brought out one by one and placed on a long table that was hundreds of feet long. Only the gifts from the craftspeople were present. Those from other folk were never shown publically as they did not showcase the skill of the dwarves as these select gifts did. She sighted her gift among those others made by the jewelers of Erebor, just on the boundary between ornamentation and function as she had intended. The last of the gifts was laid out and a hush fell over the gather crowd. Now only the royal family was missing.
One by one they entered the massive stone hall. King Thror was the first to appear. The people cheered wildly as the old king took to his throne, sitting beneath the Arkenstone. The thrones around him filled as Thrain took his place followed by Thorin and his other son.
The king waited for a moment, for the crowd to regain their quiet. Then he motioned to the Master of Ceremonies to begin.
"We are gathered together today, to honor the twenty-fourth birthday of our beloved Prince Thorin. In honor of His Highness' birth, the craftspeople of Erebor have created works of incredible splendor for his enjoyment. His Highness has agreed to select from among them the gift most interesting and suitable for himself," the elderly dwarf called out above the gather throngs.
The crowd roared to life as Thorin rose from his throne. The Master of Ceremonies gave a deep bow, as did those in the crowd. The prince nodded gravely and began the long walk down the line of gifts. He spared barely a glance at the gaudy clothing woven or embroidered by the craftspeople. The highly ornamental and barely functional pottery was left untouched. He barely kept his lip from curling in revulsion at some of the truly hideous sculptures of himself present.
Lina barely hid her own smirk of amusement at his reactions to the gifts. But still her heart began to pound as Thorin approached her gift. The belt buckle lay between the bright jewelry of the jewelers and the carvings of the wood workers. Beneath the buckle Lina's sketch and explanation of the buckle's meaning had been placed. She could just see the edge of the parchment from where she stood.
Thorin spared only cursory glances at the jewelry, sweeping on to the wood carvings. Lina's heart sank as he passed her piece by. Then, two full strides beyond the buckle, as if pulled back by an invisible hand, the prince turned and looked back toward the jewelry. Lina's pulse quickened as he moved slowly back down the line and paused over the collection of ornaments in which her buckle was resting. As if being controlled by strings, the prince reached out cautiously toward the buckle. He moved it carefully to one side so that he could lift up the parchment beneath it.
The gathered dwarves shifted and whispered amongst themselves. What was so fascinating that the prince had turned back to read a scrap of parchment?
Lina alone among the craftspeople knew what was written on that parchment. And so she held her breath as the prince carefully placed the parchment back down on the table and lifted up the belt buckle.
Thorin turned the piece over in his hands, examining it from all directions. His face did not change as he carefully looked at every aspect of it. Lina felt her heart leap as a small smile curved the corners of his mouth upwards when he touched the central stone and glanced over at the Arkenstone above his grandfather's head.
The dwarven prince looked out over the gather craftspeople, his eyes lighting on Lina. He glanced back and forth between the piece in his hand and her. Then his gaze locked with hers. The same sensations which had electrified her the first time her path crossed Thorin's returned with renewed strength. Without breaking eye contact, the prince removed his belt, handing both it and the buckle to a servant waiting beside him. Lina could not look away, so she could only assume that the servant was to attach her buckle to the prince's belt. For the longest time, Lina remained standing motionless and soundless in the crowd, Thorin's gaze steadily holding hers.
Whispers and murmurs filled the air as more dwarves began to take notice of the piece chosen by the prince. No one seemed to be discussing the connection between Thorin and Lina. Or, at least, Lina could not hear anyone discussing them. Then again, Lina could only hear the pounding of her blood in her ears.
The servant handed the prince back his belt, the buckle attached. It was only then that the prince broke eye contact with Lina so that he could fasten his belt with its new buckle around his waist.
Lina took the moment to escape from the crowd of craftspeople. They let her go, thinking that she, like so many others was crushed her gift had not been chosen, unaware of her true reason. Lina was frightened, more than she had been the first time her eyes met Thorin's. The sensations had only grown within her since that first look, not diminished as she'd expected. The terrible longing and intense ache she felt when Thorin's power and strength swept over her like a wave were too much for her. She had to escape his gaze or she felt she might suffocate.
The young dwarf wondered vaguely, as she lay in her bed staring up at the shadows flickering across the ceiling in the wee hours of the morning, if the prince realized what kind of power he had over her. She wondered if he even thought about her at all, or if she was just another face in the crowd. Lina's thoughts began to grow chaotic as the previous night's lack of sleep and the excitement of the day came down upon her all at once. She barely had the wherewithal to put out her candle before sleep took her.