Lióni stood ramrod straight before her angry father and listened to him shout that she would not shame the family.
"…an ye will do as I say or I'll have ye thrown in the dungeon until yer weddin day. Is any word I'm saying piercing your tiny brain?" He stopped his pacing and shoved his large nose into her face.
"Am I to be bartered like a side of beef?" She fought to keep her tone from matching his, although her blue eyes flashed bolts of lightning at him. It was the one trait she couldn't control. They lit up a room when she was happy and flashed warnings of a storm approaching when crossed. Now her father was seeing tempest of a wild sea that refused to be tamed.
"Dóvad, please no more." He turned to his wife that was pleading for a ceasefire in her concerned expression. "Was I any less fearful of wedding you?"
"We had an arranged marriage and it went….," he trailed off and sighed. "It's that we need the trade agreement now more than ever with the increasing hostilities from the Easterlings. Lord Skafid wants assurances we will uphold our end of the bargain. I have nothing else ta offer him. His son is ah good lad; strong an will be ruler of the Stonefoots in due time. She could do much worse."
"Maybe if we let the youngsters court before this arrangement, they will naturally decide to unthaw and wed," Lári, Dóvad's wife reasoned. "We see the unhappiness this rash decision is bringing our daughter."
Dóvad pointed a finger at her. "Ye are supposed ta find ah suitable lad an lass for our children an prepare them. It is on yer head that I have ta step in an handle this. Ye have one task past rearing dwarflings an that is ta find suitable mates for them, an ye failed."
"Don't you take that tone with me," Lári snapped. "I still carry the memories of running from the mountain and being ordered to come east to the Red Mountains. My father would have me marry a Longbeard, but the price for us staying in Jötunheim was an arranged marriage of the highest ranking dwarrowlass and we both know that was me. I'll not forget your father looking at me as if I was prime beef and making the decree when I was just a dwarfling of forty-five. Oh, I waited and prayed someone would come and rescue me, but nobody did. I couldn't stand by while thousands of Longbeards were cast into the cold and hostile country teaming with the enemy we had just fought through, so I married you when I came of age. And I bore you two children and tried to be a good wife. I did my duty for my people. Who knows, I might have been chosen to marry Prince Thorin had Smaug not come."
"Ye keep throwin up yer status as granddaughter ta the lord that was best friends with King Thrór. Well if Lord Nár thought so much of his kin, why did he send his daughter an granddaughter this way?"
In a calm tone that covered an aching heart, she softly replied, "He had a duty to the royal family and didn't want distractions. What do you think it cost him? Knowing he would never see his family again." Her voice and anger rose with each word until she matched his shouting and tears burned her eyes.
Lióni stood still, grateful attention was off her for the moment. She pitied her mother, having to marry the Lord of the Blacklocks son to insure the Longbeards received fair treatment. A heavy knock on their private chambers interrupted what her father was building to say. Seeking to escape his wrath, she quickly answered.
An older dwarf looked her up and down, judging her worth and ability to bear heirs. Beside him was a younger version; complete with identical stocky build, ginger hair and beard that was braided into one long tail from four locks. "Are ye the lass my son, Trefid, here is ta wed?"
She colored as their eyes ran over her figure. She was tall for a dwarf and slender with light brown hair that tended to have blond highlights if she spent much time in the sun. Her bright blue eyes flashed in annoyance when the younger kept looking at her bodice with a smirk.
"Well, lass, are ye addled in the head? I asked ye ah question."
"I am the one you are bartering for." She stepped back and allowed them entrance.
"I just stopped ta see if ye found yer missing daughter," Skafid stated. "Lady Lári, I greet ye this fine morning." He turned back to Dóvad. "The contracts are finished. I would like ah meeting ta go over trade details an meet your lords ta discuss trade."
Dóvad nodded his agreement. "Aye, now is ah good time ta talk trade an look at the contract of marriage."
Almost all the lords crowded into a room designed for meetings. Chairs lined a long stone table and also ringed the circular hewed walls. Dóvad and Skafid sat facing each other while the primary lords from each clan took spots at the table, keeping with their own along each side. They were well into discussion when through the wooden door they heard in the distance the horn at the main gate.
Dóvad stopped talking and listened. It sounded once more. "Dwarves are at the gate. Did ye have more Stonefoots coming?" He hoped Skafid didn't plan on an army following to make war if things didn't go his way. The treachery of other clans was well documented in the annals of dwarven history.
"Not I. Winter isn't when dwarves usually travel. The only reason I did, is I want this matter settled by spring when we plant grain on the slopes for our winter ale."
The door opened and a soldier rushed in. "My lord, there is a band of dwarves at the gate demanding entrance. I've never seen the likes of them before. Some are bejeweled with golden armor and they look ta be warriors."
"How many?" Dóvad now feared he was being set up and if he opened the gate, more would pour forth from hiding and attack his city.
"About forty. They are on horses and have rams laden with packs."
"Do ye wish me ta send them packing, Father?" Tóvad, son of Dóvad asked. He had been sitting beside Trafid along one wall.
Dóvad stood, "I'll see what they want myself."
"I'll join ye," Skafid also rose, and so did the room. All wanted a glimpse of these warriors who wore golden armor.
Dóvad led the procession to the main entrance and motioned his warriors to make ready. When all was in place he ordered the door opened. At first the intruders were masked by white vapor from their breaths and those of the animals and then they rode into the hall.
In they came, two abreast and in the lead were two clad in the richest of golden armor, and behind them equally decked with golden armor were four more before plainer garbed warriors followed. They looked around and let the ponies walk up to the line of dwarves waiting to greet them. Finally Thorin focused on the leaders.
Dóvad and Skafid threw stunned looks at each other when the two in the lead dismounted. The great hall quickly filled when word spread of strangers not to be missed. As one, the lords bowed low before the two dwarves causing a stir among the inhabitants who witnessed their lord paying homage to complete strangers.
"Welcome to Jötunheim, King Thorin," Dóvad greeted warmly. A collective gasp was heard and several pushed to stand behind Lord Dóvad, with eyes full of wonder.
Thorin let his gaze roam over the collective before responding, his face somber and the one at his side was gripping a Warhammer with the Durin crest. "It is good to see Longbeards in the greeting party. That they came back with you from Azanulbizar, Lord Dóvad, speaks well of your leadership."
"Aye, the title I carried back from Moria with me. I will be delighted ta lift ah cup with ye an rehash our glorious war, but now, m'Lord, please come an allow me ta show ye quarters. Lunch is almost ready an I invite ye ta my family home this evening. News from afar is fodder for our hungry ears." He broke off when Thorin raised his hand. Dóvad noticed hanging at his side the hilt of a peculiar looking sword.
"We will meet with you right now, and Lord Skafid, please join us. Please see to my guards and provide for them. We will accept food and drink while we have a meeting." He gestured to those crowded behind him. "My lords who travel with me; Dwalin, Óin, Nori, Bifur and Bofur. They will accompany us and I don't wish to impose with so many on your wife without due notice."
"Nonsense," Dóvad protested. "For years I've heard my wife sing yer praises an ye would insult her ta refuse."
Thorin nodded his acceptance. "My lords and I would enjoy seeing Nár's kin."
"With your permission, our sons would benefit from listening to your wisdom. You remember my son, Tóvad; an underage lad who fought bravely at Moria. An his fighting companion, an soon ta be brother-in-law, Trafid, Skafid's fine son. They are our successors an need training in dealing with Durin's."
"Dealing with Durin's?" Dwalin questioned and had the satisfaction of seeing the speaker cringe.
"I mean no disrespect. We all know the linage went ta the Durin's, an with it special powers like talkin ta ravens. When ye sent that raven with the note on its leg; we were honored ye remembered us so far away."
Thorin pierced him with glacial blue eyes. "I remember a raven returning to me with a note saying the Blacklocks wouldn't fight." He skewered Skafid next. "Nor would the Stonefoots. You mentioned not keeping me standing here," he prompted.
"Ah yes, this way, my lords."
As Thorin passed the younger dwarves, he paused. "Join us."
Tóvad and Trafid straightened to their full height and bowed to the king and trailed the lords Thorin brought with him. Not invited, the remaining lords descended on the guards for information, only to step back when weapons were brandished. The taciturn guards didn't answer one question of the dozens thrown at them. A lord assured them their animals would be taken to the barns. Grabbing personal bags from the rams for themselves and the Lords, they acquiesced and the only words spoken were by their arms master stating they would stay in place until discharged. They did accept food and ale and ate while watching the inhabitants go back to their lives, leaving only dwarflings to gawk.
A lass approached the one who spoke. "I wish to become a warrior of the Longbeards. Take me with you."
Svin looked her up and down. "Nay, lass. Ye couldn't handle our life."
He saw fire in her eyes. "My great grandfather was Lord Nár. I'll take my petition to your king." With that, she stalked through the sniggering dwarrow lads to her family chambers. Her eyes smarted like smoke from a fire drifted into them. 'It's not fair,' she thought, 'Tóvad is treated with respect due a lord's son, but I am just a daughter, good for nothing except what sons I can produce to keep the claim of leadership in this filthy hole should Tóvad come up dry.'
Thorin sat in Dóvad's chair at the head of the table in the room just vacated. He motioned for Dóvad to take the chair to his left and Skafid to sit beside the lord of Jötunheim. He waited for the younger lords to scuttle into chairs just down from their sires. Dwalin sat to his right and across the table from Dóvad, with Óin at his right, ear trumpet firmly in his ear. Nori was seated next and Bifur and Bofur sauntered down the table and Bofur took up residence in the chair opposite Thorin with Bifur to his right on the same side as the lords from the Red Mountains.
They no sooner were seated when the door was thrown open and servants rushed in with ale and platters of salted pork and seasoned chips deep fried in fat from the same animal. Plates were piled high and Thorin was served first. A large cake was set in the middle of the table and the servants left pitchers of ale and water beside it.
"Do ye require anything else, King Thorin?" The servant addressed Thorin and not his lord.
"No, this is fine," Thorin spoke and while his mouth was open shoved a chip in.
Dóvad motioned the servant to leave and once the door was shut and they were alone, he dug in to his own plate. They ate in silence for a few minutes and Dóvad spoke first. "What brings our king in the dead of winter ta Jötunheim?"
"Did ye fight Smaug?" Skafid followed with what was on his mind.
The younger dwarves forgot to eat at the mention of the firedrake.
Thorin didn't answer immediately. Instead, he half rose drew Orcrist and tossed it down the table where Bofur easily caught it. He motioned to the cake and Bofur jumped on the table and walked to it, careful not to spill the pitchers of ale. Everyone watched as he looked around and counted with the blade moving up and down in tempo to his motion. Then he cut down with the tip of the blade ten equal sized pieces. Carefully, he scooped each slice and dropped it on a plate, not concerned if food was still present. Lastly, he impaled a cloth napkin and wiped the blade. Tossing it back to Thorin, he walked back down the table and jumped onto his chair and then sat.
"I would have licked the blade clean, Thorin, but don't know if you cleaned it since the battle. I don't fancy orc or troll ruining this fine cake."
"I'm sure the elves cleaned it," Thorin retorted and dug into the cake. Plate clean, he pushed it away and motioned for the Red Mountain lads to gather them up. They hurried to do the king's bidding and dumped all but the tankards and pitchers on a chair by the door. When they sat, Thorin started.
"Turns out we didn't need your help retaking the mountain. We drove Smaug from the mountain with just a handful of dwarves and a hobbit. A man from Lake-town killed it. Then Dáin Ironfoot brought his army and we had a small battle when elves, men and dwarves took on Sauron's fell creatures in the form of trolls and orcs. There, you have just been brought up to speed on our year. Now we are here to collect a few dwarves for the mountain. How many Longbeards live here now?"
"That is quite a story, King Thorin," Dóvad replied, although not sure he believed one word of it.
"Do you need help answering," Dwalin spoke while the Company laughed.
Dóvad remembered this Durin from Azanulbizar, whose temper was short and arm lethal. He had to admit, the Durin's were also the most skilled warriors; another gift from their creator, Aulë. "We lost a lot of Longbeard dwarrow at Azanulbizar as you know, but many of the dwarrowdams still live. I would say the numbers are stable. Three thousand came and that number still resides here with the addition of births."
Thorin's eyes shifted to the next dwarf. "Are any Longbeards in your halls?"
"Aye, about two hundred migrated from the Iron Hills and Jötunheim over the years; mostly for work or marriage."
"By order of the king, all unwed dwarrowlasses of age and linage to marry with a Durin will be brought to Erebor and presented to the king. From among all available lasses, wives for those who fought to reclaim the Lonely Mountain will be allowed first choice." Thorin spoke by rote, a direct quote from his father.
"We were just looking at ah marriage contract when you arrived," Skafid interjected. My son here will marry Lord Dóvad's daughter this spring."
Bifur got up and rummaged through papers on a side table and found the contract. He dropped it before Thorin and returned to his place, walking behind the dwarves and he smiled over their heads to the Company knowing he was making the lords nervous.
Thorin read the contract while the room waited. "How far along is this courtship?" he finally asked.
"They met for the first time this morning," Dóvad admitted.
"So no stone melting into molten lava yet?" Thorin pressed.
"I'm sure it will in time," Trafid spoke for himself.
"This contract is hereby annulled. The lass comes with us. You will ready all Longbeards who are able and wish to return to Erebor," Thorin issued his diktat.
"I object, King Thorin," Skafid cried in outrage. "That lass isn't anything ye want ta mess with. She has rejected all attempts at courting from the local sons of lords, so her father made this agreement with me. She is ah wild one who won't be tamed."
"We leave in a week. I will address your clan and the Longbeards in the great hall after the meeting. See they are gathered. Also, I will stay in a chamber with my lords an kin."
"Nay, King Thorin. I have a fine sets of rooms for ye alone. An yer kin an the other lords can each have their own rooms. Ye need not bunk together. The guards will find the soldiers halls most comfortable."
Thorin pierced Dóvad with another icy gaze, although his expression was indecipherable. "I have spent many nights on the ground in the dead of winter and many more hot summer nights. While you were snug in a warm bed, I moved about, either seeking work or overseeing my people. I hope to never seek comfort above duty. A chamber with multiple beds is fine. I'll not put your servants out."
Seeing dismissal, the lords and their sons left to spread word that the king would address them momentarily and Erebor was liberated.
Alone for a couple minutes, Thorin looked at his faithful companions. "I hope our guards don't talk."
"They'll face my knuckle dusters if they do," Dwalin vowed.
Bofur was snooping around and opened a door. "Here is a latrine. Maybe we could stay here and sleep on the table."
"If I don't like where they put us, I'll do just that," Thorin replied while he shuffled through papers to see what the lords from the two realms were up to. It was nice of them to forget and leave sensitive papers for him to read he decided and looked at numbers of warriors Skafid was loaning Dóvad due to orc and Easterling activity the southern clan was dealing with.
Lári held her mother, Risári's hand. Did you hear the news, mother?"
"I am not that old and will journey with the young king and die in the mountain. Did you get a look at Thorin? Has he grown into a Durin to be proud of?"
"No. By the time I pushed through bodies, he was already gone. I'm told by our servant, who was close enough to see and hear, that we are hosting Thorin and his lords here tonight. I am making ready now and just took a moment in my excitement to find my mother. I hope Dóvad brings him here for a private visit first." She looked wistful and sad. "I always thought he and I would wed. As a child, I used to have a monster crush on him."
Risári smiled and patted her daughter's hand. "I know. It didn't help we were plotting in front of you. I wish your father and grandfather hadn't died at Azanulbizar. It was a dream they took to their graves; seeing the mountain full of dwarves again. Kár used to talk of nothing else. They were interrupted when the door slammed behind Dóvad and Tóvad.
Lióni joined her mother and grandmother for a report.
"All my plans just got thrown off ah cliff," Dóvad howled in rage. "That upstart pup of ah king has decreed all marriageable lasses be taken ta Erebor an paraded for Durin's first."
"Me too?" Lióni squeaked.
"Especially ye, lass. Thorin read the contract and declared it void. "We leave in ah few days for Erebor."
"All of us?" Tóvad questioned.
"Maybe not you, son. Ye'll stand in for me as regent until yer mother an I return. That is unless his highness has other plans."
"I hope he makes me go," Tóvad replied enthusiastically.
"Did he tell you how Smaug was defeated?" Risári inquired.
"Some nonsense that ah handful of them ran the firedrake from Erebor an ah man killed it," Dóvad answered.
"I didn't want ta appear ignorant, Father, but just what is ah hobbit?" Tóvad hoped he knew.
"Blast if I know," Dóvad growled. "Must be ah powerful being if all it took was one of them."
Thorin, with the Company to either side stood on a raised platform and looked over a crowd of at least ten thousand. He briefly told them what transpired, leaving all mention of Thráin from his narrative. Still he had them spellbound and like when he influenced the citizens of Lake-town to his cause; once again his mesmerizing words and tone rang out encouraging Longbeards to go home to Erebor. When he was done, the cavern all but shook rocks down upon the rowdy dwarves shouting and clapping. Thorin breathed a sigh of relief that only the Company could discern.
The Longbeards wanted to see their king and crowded around him. With Dwalin by his side, he answered questions and greeted old friends he fought with.
Dóvad pushed through dwarves until by Thorin's side. "Sire, yer chambers are ready an I will be honored ta show ye our baths."
Thorin twisted his head to look at him. "Give me a couple minutes."
"Take all the time ye need," Dóvad offered.
Thorin nodded and turned back to a Longbeard family who lost all their males at Azanulbizar. "Dam, I will lead any Longbeard from these halls who wish to return to Erebor. If you can walk, I will get you home." The crowd of Longbeards was still gathered and the Company talked with as many as they could, assuring them the mountain was as they left it.
An hour passed swiftly and Dóvad waited until Thorin joined him. The servants quickly found the other lords and they were shown a chamber like Thorin requested. It greatly resembled Dáin's rooms in his family wing when Durin's visited. Dóvad waited while they rummaged through packs and pulled clean undergarments.
Bifur asked in Khuzdul, "Where are yer bathing caverns?"
Thorin motioned six of his warriors he used as guards to him and the Company to stand guard while they had their first bath since leaving the Iron Hills.
Dóvad escorted the clean dwarves to his family chambers.
Thorin was looking for Risári as soon as he entered and upon spotting her, strode directly to greet her first. She rose and curtsied deeply. "Lady Risári, Kár spent many nights around the fires in the mountains above Moria telling us about life in Jötunheim, and especially his family. I never got to personally tell you Nár and Kár were inseparable during the years we tried to retake Moria. He died bravely and was buried with Nár in the level above our king and kin."
"Did you ever find Thráin?" she asked with caring.
He shook his head and looked over his shoulder at the Company. They were grinning at him. He quickly turned back to her. "I searched, but never found him. Gandalf the wizard came to me and said it was time to retake the mountain. I focused on the quest and it was more than a year before we reached the mountain from the time the wizard tracked me down."
"That you are here is like a dream. You remember my daughter, Lári?" Risári asked and looked to her daughter, who moved to her side.
Thorin nodded his head, "I would never forget a dwarfling friend; especially as we were always placed in the nursery together when the adults wanted to party."
Lári laughed, "Well we were almost the same age." She motioned for Lióni to join her, which was customary when dwarrowdams were in the presence of royalty. After introductions, the dams would fade into the background and let the dwarrows talk around the dinner table. "Dóvad and I were blessed with a daughter also. Meet Lióni. I don't know if you remember, but she favors grandmother Lióna, who she is named for."
Thorin's eyes drilled the lass and she was surprised he was so handsome for a dwarf and wondered if the Durin's were also blessed with fine features as a gift from Aulë. Instead of polite prosaic greetings befitting his stature, she stated with confidence, "I am to understand I am being summoned to Erebor to be chattel to any Durin who's looking for a wife? I do wish to relocate away from this dreary hole in the mountain, but want to be considered for warrior training instead of breeding services."
There was silence for the space of two heartbeats and then Dwalin roared with laughter, joined by the rest of the Company. Over the mirth, Dóvad was profusely apologizing for his daughter's behavior and the dwarrowdams were scolding her for addressing the king in such a froward and rude manner.
Thorin didn't smile or join in any dialogue with either parent. His cold eyes remained on her until she squirmed. When the noise and comments from the Company died down, he responded. "Are you any good with a weapon?"
Seeing the king wasn't sending her to the dungeon or a public flogging, she braved a more civil answer. "I am capable."
"You're just ah dwarrowlass," her brother, Tóvad, scornfully cut in.
"I can best you half the time," she rejoined and stopped when Thorin raised his hand for silence. "The king will decree who among the lasses will wed which eligible dwarrow. Maybe you will get lucky and nobody will choose you."
Lord Skafid and Trafid entered last and Dóvad stated eagerly, "Ah now we can eat. All our guests have arrived."
Thorin and the Company carefully provided additional details of their journey to Erebor and mentioned Bilbo often. Tóvad found his opening when a lull in conversation provided an opening. "King Thorin, I admit to not knowing what a hobbit is. Are they great fighters?"
Even Thorin laughed. It was Bofur who answered. "We met at his home in a place called the Shire. That's where they live and it's southeast of Ered Luin by about two hundred miles and like us, most live in hobbit holes that are quite comfortable. It is some of the richest farming country you'll ever see. They can grow anything there and hobbits are natural farmers and love the dirt. They go barefoot and have hairy feet that don't seem to feel cold or heat on their souls. As for being fighters, Gandalf told us on the journey of a few hobbits that did fight orcs when they attacked the Shire, but our hobbit was a burglar. That's what Thorin hired him for."
Skafid put his ale down, "King Thorin, why would you need a burglar? Did you not take enough supplies?"
"He was hired to steal the Arkenstone."
"Why would you steal what is yours by birthright?" Risári asked astounded.
Thorin paused. "It seemed like a good idea at the time. He woke the dragon and it gave him chase. We mounted a plan to immolate him in gold. He shed gold all over the countryside when he flew away. He torched Lake-town and their bowman, who is now king; a man called Bard fired a black arrow into his heart because of a chink we told him was in the armor. He saw it."
As soon as Thorin stood, he excused himself and those with him. "We pushed the ponies hard for the last three days and I need rest. Thank you." He led his Company away and as Dóvad shut the door, he saw six guards move off the wall and follow the king and lords.
"Thorin is keeping his personal guards close," he disclosed sitting in his favorite chair and reached for his pipe.
"Is it just me or does anyone else find the king coming here personally odd?" Skafid observed.
"I've been in shock that he is here ta ponder why the king paid us ah visit. But you're right; something isn't adding up," Dóvad agreed. "Another oddity is his insisting Fræg go with them. They would only take ah healer if there is going to be deaths. Maybe this is a scam an the mountain is still under the control of the dragon." He looked at his mother-in-law. "Well, Risári, ye know the Durin's better than most."
"I think ye are a couple fools. Thorin came personally to escort us home. If you really knew the Durin's; you would understand their loyalty to the Longbeards. They could have come here, but they chose the roughest route and hardest life. I'll not have their reputations impugned with fearmongering. I will be going with Thorin."
"So will I," Lióni added her opinion.