Ila sat uncomfortably in her carriage as it rolled towards her new home. They had been traveling for what felt like ages and she was stiff and eager to arrive at their destination. She thought at how surprising that was. Eager to be in Erebor. She was not really, only eager to finally be free of this carriage. She was tired and wanted to lie down and stretch her limbs. She had tried to take a nap but could not get comfortable enough to do so. Dwala, her handmaiden and only companion now, had no trouble falling asleep. She was dozing, her head leaned to the side and resting against the carriage. Unlike Ila, Dwala was the quintessential dwarf female. Short, stocky, and strong, with curly light brown hair and a short beard to match. She was generally of much lighter spirits than Ila and did not trouble her mind with complex things. She was a steadfast companion though and as handy as any lady in waiting any queen had ever had. Ila wished she could be more like her.
Not being able to sleep, Ila looked out the window at the passing countryside. They had left the Iron Hills far behind, and the landscape now was flat as could be. Ila knew Erebor was called the lonely mountain because it was not part of a range, but rather a solitary peak that stood out from its surroundings, imposing and majestic. Like its king, Ila thought. Or at least that is what she had heard. Ila's mother was so pleased with the match, saying that it was commonly known among dwarven women that King Thorin was most handsome, even though grey now streaked his long black hair. Grey hair! Ila had thought. She was being married to an old dwarf indeed. She was a much better match in age for one of his nephews, who were rumored to be rather handsome themselves. Ila reminded herself that it didn't matter how she found Thorin, it only mattered how he found her. She looked at her reflection in the window pane and hoped that she didn't disappoint. Her mother had dressed her in a dark blue dress with silver trimmings and accents, along with a midnight blue traveling cloak that matched well. Blue was apparently King Thorin's color of choice. Ila's favorite color was blue as well, but she was fonder of a much lighter, icier blue.
Something Ila was not fond of was the veil that lay next to her on the seat. The delicate material, also trimmed in silver, must be worn until her wedding day. No one in Erebor, not even her betrothed, was allowed to see her until the ceremony was complete. That would not be for almost a month on Durin's Day. For a month she would have to wear the garment, which fell just below her eyes. Only when she was alone in her chambers, or in only the company of Dwala without danger of being seen by anyone else, could she remove it. She would have to eat with it on even. Ila could not be more annoyed by the duty. But there were very few females among dwarves, and it was not for her to tempt any of the dwarves in Erebor before she was a wife and claimed by King Thorin. Dwarves were very jealous and highly possessive creatures, and so until she was no longer a maiden none were to look upon her.
Ila sighed heavily. She just wanted to fall asleep and be a thousand miles away from her thoughts. Sleep was the only place where she could escape the harsh reality that she found her life had become and she couldn't even take a nap presently. The road beneath them was bumpy and Ila wondered how Dwala could remain asleep through it all, though she did so with no problem. Leaning back to attempt to find a decent resting position for nearly the hundredth time, Ila closed her eyes and tried to think of nothing at all.
Somehow, Ila finally managed to fall asleep, only to be awakened by arriving at their destination. Dwala had jolted awake first at the feel of the carriage stopping and she quickly realized they had arrived by seeing the sky completely obscured by the great mountain outside of the carriage.
"My lady, my lady!" Dwala urged, gently shaking Ila's arm.
Ila's eyes fluttered open from her light and unsatisfying sleep and she sat up straight.
"We're here!" Dwala said excitedly.
Ila shook herself and followed Dwala's gaze out the window. Towering towards the sky, so high that it eclipsed the sky entirely from her vantage point, stood Erebor. It took Ila's breath from her lungs. The sheer size of the mountain was enough to impress anyone that had never laid eyes on it, but the intricate and unexpected entrance must be hard for anyone to get used to seeing that hadn't grown up doing so. Into the mountain itself had been carved several levels of turreted balconies, with geometric designs carved over and between them. Flags whipped in the wind from many of the turrets. Most impressive where the two enormous Dwarven warriors that stood on either side of the entrance to the mountain. They were impossibility tall, clad in armor and brandishing battle axes, ready to defend their great city.
Ila felt smaller than ever she had before looking up at her new home. While she had been tired and wanted to arrive so that she might be comfortable finally, now she was afraid to get out of the carriage. But no sooner had it come to a halt but several guards came marching towards them.
"That would be the welcome party, I figure." Dwala observed more than spoke to Ila. She too was transfixed by what lay before them. Neither maid had ever been further than the fields surrounding the Iron Hills, and they had certainly never seen anything like Erebor. Ila had dreamed of places like it, read of them in her many books, but never laid eyes on anything that remotely compared to it.
"My lady! Your veil!" Dwala suddenly remembered and brought Ila from her awe inspired trance. She quickly grabbed the delicate material and fixed it about her face. Looking out the window again, she saw that among the dwarves was one that appeared to be their leader, though he was certainly not King Thorin. Ila had not really believed she would be greeted by the king himself, but she was also dying to know what he looked like. The dwarf that was leading the guards rather was quite an old dwarf, with snow white hair and a long, white beard that parted towards the end to curl into opposite points. He had a kind and grandfatherly face, Ila thought as she prepared to exit the carriage. Dwala got out first and began to gather Ila's dress before she even got out of the carriage. Ila took the hand the driver had offered and stepped out slowly. She noticed the two carriages laden with her personal belongings and wardrobe were right behind them, having made the journey safely as well. She hoped she had not brought too much.
The welcome party reached them now, with the old dwarf smiling broadly and stretching out his arms to bow lowly and introduce himself.
"Princess Ila, welcome to Erebor. I am Balin, at your service." He said standing up and smiling at them warmly. He was short and almost as big around as he was tall. He wore crimson robes and was obviously a dwarf of great importance, and seemed equally as kind. Ila curtsied in return as did Dwala.
"Come, come! You must be tired from your journey! You must rest before the great welcome supper in your honor tonight! Please, let me show you to your chambers."
Balin seemed excitable for a dwarf of such age, but Ila instantly liked him. She had heard that the dwarves of Erebor were proud and suspicious, even for dwarves. She had not exactly expected a warm welcome, but Lord Balin's friendliness put her at ease. She followed him towards the great entrance, the doors themselves made of gold, and was actually glad for her veil. She was a princess, but the Iron Hills held no such grandeur or majesty as what lay before her here. She didn't want to be seen gaping at it all like a common human.
About half of the guards fell in behind her to escort them properly through the hall, but the other half busied themselves with transporting her many belongings. Ila tried to keep her eyes forward but it was hard not to look upwards, as the inside of the mountain almost seemed to be hollow. The ceilings shot up to impossible heights, with countless stairways and walkways intersecting above and around them. It was dark inside the mountain. Naturally there was not much in the way of windows with the exception of the balconies cut out of the façade and that were now behind them, casting some light into the mountain but not much. Torches provided the majority of the light as they moved further into the mountain. Ila could not decide if it was all absolutely beautiful or absolutely terrifying.
Balin spoke a bit on their walk to her chambers, but Ila only heard about half of it. She was too busy looking about but trying to appear as though she wasn't. She was also trying not to notice how every eye they passed focused on her. Ila reminded herself to stand up straight and hold her head up high despite how nervous and afraid she was. Hopefully it was not far to her chambers.
They ascended a great staircase where Ila noticed there was no one else coming or going from and that was guarded by two especially imposing dwarves. This was the stairway to the royal family's chambers. Lord Balin held out his arm for Ila who gently took it to steady herself as she followed him up the stairs. Dwala had grabbed the short train of her dress to carry it up the stairs behind her. The staircase came to a landing where it split in two. Balin lead her towards the right one, pointing out that the men's chambers lay to the left.
That was good to know, Ila thought. Perhaps she would never use that set of stairs, she wondered.
Turning a corner and stopping at the first room on the right, Lord Balin opened the door but did not go inside.
"Here we are my lady, easy enough to find." He said and motioned for her to go in.
"I will be back shortly before supper to retrieve you, which gives you plenty of time to freshen up and even take a nap if you like." Balin observed cheerily.
"Thank you, my lord." Ila nodded gratefully and turned to go in her new chambers. Dwala followed and shut the door behind them.
Ila let out a great sigh once they were alone, almost immediately pulling off the veil. Only then did she bother to look around the room.
The antechamber they stood in was not large but well lit and had high ceilings. The walls were intricately laid with geometric designs much like those that adorned the outside of the city. It was dark in here too, as it seemed to be everywhere, but candles provided enough light to see everything clearly enough. The antechamber was scantly furnished as to be expected but it was elegant to be sure. Ila was very curious to see her bedchamber and opened the next set of doors. A much bigger room with candles flickering from all over, it was fit for a princess. The bed was larger than hers back home, covered in what appeared to be silver silks and furs. There were two great wardrobes at one end of the room and a beautiful, stone fireplace at the other. It was hewn out of the very mountain itself and polished so that it was shining in the candlelight. Not far from the wardrobes and that appeared to be made out of polished stone as well was a vanity that reminded her of the one in her old room. Vases of flowers dotted the tables of the room as well, a nice touch Ila had not expected this deep within the mountain.
Dwala watched Ila turn in circles in the middle of the room, a smile creeping over her face and she took in its wonder. Perhaps Erebor would not be so bad, Ila thought.
"You seem a little brighter," Dwala observed.
Ila smiled. "Yes, but I certainly want to rest before I have to present myself to the royal family."
"And to the entire court of Erebor, and practically the entire city itself…"
"Yes, yes I have not forgotten." Ila sounded much less enthused now. She pulled off her cloak finally and laid it over a fainting couch and placed her veil on the vanity. Flopping down on the soft and comfortable bed, she stretched out wide on her back.
"Will you make sure to wake me in enough time to make myself decent? I am afraid I may slip into the deepest of sleeps after that carriage ride." Ila asked.
"Of course my lady. I will settle in myself in the meantime. My quarters should be right next door." She replied.
Ila smiled at her. "Perhaps Erebor will not be so bad Dwala." She said from where she still lay on the bed.
"There's the spirit my lady! I'm sure it will not be." Dwala gave her an ever greater smile and spoke with much more confidence than Ila did. With that, she turned to see to her own rooms. Ila barely registered the sound of her closing the door before she fell into a deep and comfortable sleep.
Sometime later, Ila knew not how long, her eyes flung open as she realized that she was not in her bed. No, she remembered that she had fallen asleep in her new bed, but it had felt like too long ago. Shooting up straight, she looked around, cursing the fact that she was deep within a mountain and could not look to the window to know what time of day it was. A second later she heard the door open and looked to see Dwala coming in.
She looked slightly alarmed as she came in, rushing towards Ila. "I think I slept too late," she said and Ila leapt from the bed.
"How late is it?" Ila asked, becoming alarmed herself.
"I'm not sure, but let's hurry all the same." She replied.
Ila sat at her vanity, Dwala going to work on her hair. Ila began to do her make-up, focusing on her eyes since that is all anyone would be able to see with her veil on. She then picked a pair of beautiful sapphire chandelier earrings that her mother had given her to compliment her blue dress. She affixed her veil just as they heard a knock at her antechamber door.
Ila's head jerked in that direction and Dwala hurried to answer it. Ila took the opportunity to give herself one last look over in the mirror. Her heart was pounding and she was still in her room!
Dwala reappeared. "It's time," she nearly whispered.
Ila nodded and rose to walk from the room. As promised, Balin was waiting for her in the corridor.
"My lady," he nodded. "Are we ready?" he asked with his warm smile.
"Yes, my lord." Ila responded nervously.
Balin could hear the apprehension in her voice but pretended not to. Ila followed him with, tracing their path back out to the main corridor of Erebor and making their way towards the great hall, where the throne room lay.
Ila noticed nothing along the way, she was too nervous and too busy trying to focus on not tripping on her gown or worse yet fainting. They approached two massive golden doors, intricately designed and with guards on either side. They slowly opened them as they neared, and Ila saw around Balin that the throne sat at the end of a long and relatively narrow walkway. Either side of it fell off at great heights into the lower parts of the city, and Ila felt dizzy. She forced herself to look straight ahead.
The back of the throne was incredibly tall, shooting towards the ceiling and with the famed arkenstone set above the head of where the king sat. Ila saw it shining even from as far back as she was. She could not see who sat on the throne yet, Balin was far enough in front her that he obscured the king, short though he was. What Ila could see was who stood beside the throne. Aside from several guards, to his left stood a large and imposing dwarf with a bald head that was covered in tattoos. A warrior for sure, his visage was stern and almost cruel. On the right, stood two dwarves that must have been nearly her equal in age. The one immediately next to the throne was blonde with blue eyes and a braided mustache with beads at each end. That must be the king's oldest nephew, the one that had been groomed to succeed him. Next to him must be his younger brother, who had dark hair and eyes and scruff instead of a full beard. Both of them were very handsome, but both were also trying too hard to appear stern and intimidating. The older of the two was succeeding a bit more than the younger one at that; the younger one simply looked adorable.
Ila mentally kicked herself. She was not supposed to be thinking about how attractive her betrothed's nephews were. They were almost to the throne now, and Balin bowed before the king and spoke quickly to move out of the way, so that now Ila faced the king of Erebor.
The king under the mountain. Thorin II Oakenshield. He was indeed tall for a dwarf, Ila could tell that even though he was sitting. She immediately curtsied low, blowing her head as well. She held the position, uncomfortable as it was.
"Rise," she heard a deep baritone say and it sent chills down her spine to finally hear his voice.
Ila did as commanded and straightened to stand before him, looking over her veil at her husband to be.
Like her, he wore a deep blue tunic that made his light blue eyes shine beautifully at her. His long, wavy black hair was streaked with a little bit of grey as she had been told, but it was so minor it did not detract from him in the least. He wore it well and was more handsome than she had expected. He had some lines around his eyes, but it suited him somehow. She did not think of him as old at all like she had feared, rather he was mature and extremely handsome. He had all the airs of a king, his appearance was majestic and absolute. He looked as though he did not smile very often. She knew he had a reputation for being gloomy and she could see why many might think that.
He was studying her as she was studying him but she at least had to wait for him to speak before she could. She wasn't sure if she was allowed to look directly at him, she should have asked Lord Balin about that. She stared back into his blue eyes until she became unnerved by the silence and shifted her eyes downward. His expression had been unreadable but she did not want to test him. As her eyes met the floor she heard him speak again.
"Princess Ila," came the baritone again.
She looked back up to meet his eyes.
"Welcome to Erebor. I hope you have found your new home satisfactory so far." He said and Ila wondered how it was possible not to find it beyond her wildest dreams.
"Thank you King Thorin. Everything has been much more than I could ever ask for. I thank you again." Ila answered and nodded.
Thorin nodded quickly and for a moment he looked different. Nervous maybe? No, no she must have imagined that.
After an awkward moment where no one knew what to say, Thorin gestured to his right. "My nephews, Fili—"
The blonde bowed, never taking his eyes off of her. There was a quiet intensity in his eyes that was almost unnerving. Ila returned his bow.
"—and Kili." Thorin introduced the black haired one with no beard. He was still clearly trying to channel his uncle's airs and it made Ila want to giggle out loud. She resisted the urge though. They exchanged bows and she turned her attention back to King Thorin.
"If you are ready," Thorin said as he rose from his throne to come and stand in front of her. He was nearly a head taller than her and Ila gulped as she looked up at him.
"We shall to supper and to introduce you to the rest of the kingdom." Thorin finished as he offered her his arm. Ila tried not to visibly shake as she took his arm. His large and muscular arm that she could feel even through his tunic. Ila couldn't deny how attractive she found him already.
As they walked from the room the others all fell in behind them. Ila looked forward, taking care not to cut her eyes to her left to steal glances at him. She did see in her peripheral view that he stole a glance at her though. He seemed to want to say something but did not. Ila hoped he could not feel her trembling.
Behind her, Ila could hear Fili and Kili whispering to one another but not what they were saying. She felt even more nervous, if that was possible at this point. She wished Thorin would say something to break the tension and she did not feel that she had the right to speak yet. She might say the wrong thing or perhaps he did not want to hear her speak at all, so Ila simply walked where he lead her.
They entered another set of great golden doors, and Ila saw that it was the great hall. Banquet tables were everywhere, filled with the inhabitants of Erebor. The tables nearer the head of the room became nicer and nicer and Ila assumed that those gathered at them were of greater and greater importance. At the end of the room, on a dais of sorts, was the head table, the two center chairs obviously meant for she and the king. As they moved through the room, it hushed, like a wave of silence swept over the dwarves as they passed. Ila felt the weight of thousands of eyes on her and could not hear anything above the sound of her heart pounding in her ears.
When they reached the dais, Thorin took her hand and forced her to turn around and face the room, presenting her to the many dwarves. After a moment of silence, the room erupted in cheers, applause, and joyful yelling. Thorin spoke something in Khuzdul, which Ila knew enough of to know that it meant it was time to feast in celebration. The dwarves were of course happy to oblige, and the ale began to flow and the food to be devoured.
Throin lead Ila to their seats, which she gladly took. She was not hungry at all however. She was too tired and too nervous to have any appetite but she feared refusing the hospitality of her new king and intended, so she forced herself to eat a bite or two. Dwala sat next to her on the other side and seemed to have no trouble eating. Thorin noticed that Ila had no appetite. He was eating rather sparingly for a dwarf too, Ila noticed.
"Does dinner not agree with you, my lady?" Thorin asked and Ila could not tell if he was actually concerned or not.
"No, no my lord. I am only tired. Everything is wonderful, please I beg you pardon me my king." She apologized, afraid that he angered easily.
"There is no need for that. I am sure you are very tired indeed." Thorin replied and Ila felt that he meant what he said.
She tried to smile at him with her eyes, silly as that sounded. She felt that she should say something now but she could think of nothing appropriate.
Thorin seemed to find himself in the same predicament and another awkward moment passed between them. Ila was actually glad for her veil now and she focused on daintily lifting it to eat and then putting it back down.
Thorin focused on his food too, working on a large piece of mutton now. He did not eat as messily or urgently as most other dwarves she had seen though. Even the manner in which he ate was somehow regal.
He felt Ila looking at him and caught her eyes, which she instantly averted. It had been too late though.
He kept looking at her, struggling for something to say.
"Your journey….it was not too arduous I hope?" he asked.
"No, no my lord. Only long." She answered.
Thorin grunted, nodding. "Good." He looked back down, searching for something else to say now.
Balin, who was on sitting on the other side of the frightening dwarf with tattoos on his head-who was sitting on Thorin's other side-leaned to whisper something into that dwarf's ear. That dwarf then leaned over to whisper it to Thorin. Ila pretended not to notice.
Thorin did not respond to the whisper, only looked straight ahead for a moment before turning to her again.
"You look—" he seemed to be struggling to find the word he wanted.
Ila looked at him, waiting for him to finish.
"—radiant…in that dress." He finally managed to say.
Balin could be seen making a face on the other side of him and the scary dwarf suppressed a chuckle but not well enough to go unnoticed. Ila thought that the king sounded as though he had never spoken to a female in all his life. She chose to ignore the fact that Lord Balin had obviously told him to compliment her and simply acknowledged it gratefully.
"Thank you my lord. You do favor blue, do you not?" she asked.
"I do…..obviously." Thorin answered looking to his own robes, but then seemed to realize that he had sounded rude when he answered her and kept talking to cover it up.
"And I see that you do as well?" he continued.
"I do, though I prefer lighter shades." She answered.
Thorin grunted in affirmation and returned to study his food too intently. The conversation was apparently over, what little there had been. Ila returned to her own food, though only pushing it around at this point. She tried to catch his eye once or twice as dinner proceeded, but he pretended not to notice and was deep in conversation with the dwarf next to him now. Ila sat silently, looking about the room every so often to people watch and pass the time until she was allowed to return to her chambers. She left her plate largely uneaten, her hands folded neatly in her lap. King Thorin was ignoring her now, and she wondered if this is what the rest of her life would be like. Forced and brief words the only relations they would have. Ila felt that she would cry right then and there, in front of all of Erebor, and Dwala seemed to have noticed.
"Are you alright?" she tried to whisper.
Ila shook her head that she wasn't and Dwala could see the tears welling in her eyes.
Not wanting her to cry in front of everyone, Dwala boldly addressed the king who was in mid-sentence at the moment.
"My lord," she said loudly and Thorin turned to look at her, his blue eyes sharp as they landed on her.
"My lady does not feel well, pray may we retire?" she asked quickly.
Thorin looked to Ila and saw the fat teardrops threatening to escape her eyes. Had he caused them? He wondered. He was useless with women, but he had never had to be any good with them, had never had any time for them at all. Had he been forced to find his own bride, to woo and court a female all on his own, he knew he would never win one. Thus, the arrangement between his cousin Dain and himself had been most appealing. He had heard of Ila's beauty long before he agreed to be betrothed to her and was most disappointed that he would have to wait a month to see her face.
But now he was disappointed in himself, disappointed that he could not even talk to her without making her cry. He had struggled for something to say, the right things to say, but he had not gift for small talk. Now Ila looked as though she would burst into tears just sitting next to him. Did she find him so objectionable? True, he was old enough to be her father and she was a better match for Fili or Kili, but he was not so bad was he? He was a king after all. But there she was, about to come undone and unable to even eat.
Thorin sighed and replied to her handmaiden. "That is fine," he said and not wanting to upset Ila further, did not make to speak to her for fear of doing so. He turned back to his conversation with the dwarf next to him and Ila felt his indifference sting her heart.
She felt ill, was barely holding back tears and he did not even care. He probably wanted her to go so that he did not have to actively ignore her anymore. Ila rose from her seat, wanting to do so hastily but remembering how many eyes were on her, and made her way past the rest of the table and down off the dais. Fili and Kili watched her go with interest, she had to walk right by them, and two guards fell in behind her and Dwala as they went. Most of the room was too engrossed in their food, ale, and revelry to notice she was leaving. She wondered if Thorin spared her a parting glance as she moved through the room and out the great doors. She knew he didn't.
She practically sprinted towards her room, Dwala hurrying to keep up. The guards were hurrying too which they did not care for. As Ila reached her chambers she threw open the doors, not waiting for the guards to do so, and slammed them behind her. Dwala did not make to follow her. She knew there were no words she could offer at the moment that would make a difference. Ila needed to be alone. She would check on her in the morning when she would likely feel better after a night's rest, or at least that is what she hoped.
Ila ran into her bedroom, tore off her veil and earrings and fell into her bed face first. She immediately began to sob. She missed her mother, her father, her brothers, her home, the sunlight, the everything of the Iron Hills. She hated the darkness of the mountain and she did not want to marry the cold and gloomy dwarf that ruled it. She could not imagine ever being happy with him, or he ever even liking her, much less loving her.
And she would have to give him children! She would have to lay with him! A thing she did not fully understand but knew enough about to know that she did not want to do it. She could not believe that his touch would be gentle. Her stomach turned at the thought of it.
So she lay, face in the pillows until they were soaking wet from her tears. Finally she rolled onto her side, her gown still on, and curled into a ball. Whimpering and crying until it hurt, she eventually fell asleep from exhaustion.
AN: So, a little slow going but I had some set-up to do. It will become much more interesting, promise. Dramatic, romantic, and interesting. :)