"Ye always were short on brains, lad." Máfog cuffed the hot young Jötunheim warrior, Otsey, across one ear. "I was just informed ye will be sparing the king himself. When the Durin lords reported back ta him, he decided ta make an example out of ye himself."

"Then I'll take the old king ta his knees an knock some sense into his thick Durin skull," the cocky youth blustered in arrogance.

"He was ah top warrior in his day. He led most battles at Azanulbizar, an I respect him," Máfog snapped with impatience. "One thing about ye, lad; ye'll draw ah crowd of over ten thousand. I'm walking ye through the basics ta keep ye limber. The king will rest an be stiff. When ye get him down, slap his body with yer weapon an raise it over yer head in victory. He will be humiliated, but rules of sparing dictate his kin can't gang up on ye. Yer the pride of the Blacklocks, an outside Lord Dóvad, are the best we have." He slowly worked the youth; certain Thráin in his advanced years would lose.

"Ale, Picket," Thráin cast out his order the moment he brushed by his servant waiting to close the door to his chambers.

Picket nodded without a word and departed to a hall where cool, wooden barrels rested on stilts of half a dozen varieties.

"I'm going ta rest ah wee spell before my big fight tonight," he told Balin, who followed him inside.

"You don't have to do this." Balin tried reason. "We need our king alive and healthy. If you are killed or gravely injured, I'm sure war will break out within these halls."

A loud pounding on the door with a staff alerted them to the most likely visitor.

"I hope he can talk sense into your thick skull," Balin grumbled and opened to Gandalf.

"I just heard, Thráin," Gandalf bellowed and grabbed the mug of ale off the tray Picket was carrying to the king. Downing half the mug, he set on a chair by the king.

Picket grumbled and went for a pitcher and more mugs this round.

"It is my chance ta put an end ta those who think I'm old an weak," Thráin calmly replied. "Remember the fight I gave ye?"

Gandalf laughed. "You were a wild thing, that's for sure. Do you remember?"

Thráin shook his head. "I rely on your story having veracity when telling of meeting me an how hard I was ta subdue."

"Just don't hurt the lad too much," Gandalf advised. His eyes narrowed. "You aren't planning anything else are you?"

Thráin tried to look innocent. "What makes ye say that, Gandalf?"

"Where is this fight to be held?" Gandalf knew Thráin wouldn't disclose anything he wished to be kept secret.

"I'm sure word is all over the mountain an by tonight, thousands will be gathered. Balin," he looked at his advisor, "we'll fight in the main ring."

Balin nodded, "Aye, anything else?"

"Have the Durin's geared up in case we are attacked. Put Ori in armor also."

Balin looked miserable. "If the king wasn't involved, I would feel better and so would the others. Maybe we can have just the Durin's put on a show and let Dwalin take on the Blacklock youth."

Thráin glowered at him. "For the last time, I'm fighting. However, I'll accept Dóvad's apology if I remember it afterwards an he can pledge loyalty in front of the Blacklocks an Longbeards."

Gandalf muttered about the idiocy of dwarves and rose, imparting advice. "Lord Dóvad is angry at Thorin for deceiving him. If you can, mend that bridge before Thorin arrives."

"Thorin acted under my orders. If Dóvad becomes reasonable, I will have ah talk with him. Nay, I'll just beat the stuffin out of him."

"I've seen very few reasonable dwarves in my centuries on these shores. I'll not hold my breath you will become the first." With that Gandalf stooped through the door Balin held open and they departed together.

Thráin took the offered mug and motioned for the pitcher to be placed on the table beside him. "Get my black outfit from the amour an polish everything including my boots. Don't forget my helmet."

Picket nodded and silently departed to Thráin's private sitting room.

He reached for the book and let his hand slide instead to a carved figurine. Hefting its weight, he remembered when he bought it for his wife. A human trader from Gondolin was hawking his wares in the market of Erebor and that in itself was strange.

"We don't get many other races selling in our halls," I began an looked the tall man over.

His iron grey hair was neatly cropped below his ears an his eyes spoke of intelligence an in a vociferous voice he proclaimed, "My good dwarf, I have traveled the breadth of these splendid lands and acquired riches from the Orocarni to the far south where the Haradwaith meets the Anduin. I've lived in the fair elven city of Mithlond and traveled north to Forlond. I've traveled the Great East Road and visited the chieftain of the Dúnedain. Lord Elrond welcomed me at Rivendell and I sold many an item to the fair elves of the last homely house east of the sea. I am here to hopefully catch the eye of King Thrór and his lovely ladies. If one of the House of Durin would purchase even the smallest mite, my reputation would be made."

There was ah general snicker around me an I looked over his wares. True ta his word, I found items from the far reaches of Middle Earth. I reached for ah carved woman statue about ten inches in height. "From where does this hail?" In my hand was an ivory carving of unknown design.

The man took it and held it to the light. "This is walrus tusk, from the Forodwaith. I bought a batch off a group of men who lived in the far north. They had fair locks and pale blue eyes and stood as tall as elves. In the cold winter nights, they carve all they know of their lands. This is one of their wives. You can see the baby wrapped in furs on her back."

I took the piece from his hand an sure enough ah wee bairn was on her back. Lis was heavy with Thorin an I sought ah special trinket for her. "How much?"

"Well, that is my finest piece…," he started and I held my hand up.

"I can afford the item."

"Lord Elrond himself set that very piece back on the table when I said I wanted five gold coin for it," the man stated with doubt a mere dwarf could afford the item.

I looked carefully at the craftsmanship an saw it ta be perfect. "You know dwarves have ah keen eye for detail….," I started an he interrupted.

"That's why I didn't insult your eyes with inferior quality. That I save for the towns of men." He smirked. "Even I know my kind are slow."

I smiled at that an dug my pouch from ah pocket. "Five it is."

His eyes widened in shock. "Are you not going to bargain for a cheaper price?"

I had the satisfaction of stating, "Why? My coffers will be enriched beyond those five by day's end."

"Are all dwarves so rich?" he asked in awe.

"Nay, but I am the Crown Prince."

Laughter broke out an I heard the man mutter, "I should have doubled the price."

I put it in another pocket an nodded good day an continued ta my chambers. My day was over an I looked forward ta an ale an sit with Lis an relax. The door between chambers was closed so I knew it was just my wife ta greet me. I motioned for the servant ta bring food with sign language.

Lis looked at me from ah comfortable chair. In her lap was something she was sewing for the baby. The small smile of welcome she gave me became something I couldn't go a day without seeing. "I told your parents and mine, we are staying in. I'm too tired after lugging your son around all day to visit."

I nodded my approval. She was starting ta assert herself with them. Leaning over, I kissed her hungrily. When I straightened, I had the figurine in my hand. "I saw this in the market an know this time next week, ye'll be packin our baby in yer arms. This is ah reminder, the wait an pain is worth giving me ah son, an I love ye for being my wife an mother of what I hope is several dwarflings."

Her eyes welled up and she took it carefully. "It's the most beautiful carving I've ever seen. Look at the detail. You can see each hair on the fur ruff. Bring me soft furs and I'll make a blanket to bundle the baby in like this little fellow.

"I'll see ta it tomorrow."

I left her holding the trinket an set at the table, downing a mug of ale before speaking. "Come an eat with me."

"I ate an hour ago, love. Your son said he couldn't wait any longer. I set down to a meal with your parents and grandmother. Your mother said she placed the healers on notice. Grandmother Ziari can hardly wait."

"Four nights later I was sleeping deeply when ah slap landed on the side of my face. "How many times do I have to hit you before you get your worthless carcass from this bed and fetch the healer?"

I remember rolling away from her hand an stumbling ta my feet, hand reaching for my trousers on the chair nearby. Semi-awake, I looked back at our comfortable bed. "If ye think I'm setting up an pacing the floor, ye are dead wrong. I'll find another place ta sleep." I was all bluster, but didn't want her ta know just how scared her having my dwarfling made me now that it was really happening.

"Not until you get that healer your grandmother has on call," she ordered.

I dressed swiftly an ran from our chambers. Stopping in the hall, I grabbed the first guard my hands lighted upon. "Fetch the healer."

"The babe?" he asked an I nodded. Watching ah guard in full battle armament run down the hall I wandered what I was supposed ta do next. My role wasn't for ah couple years an I knew the youngster was in good hands with three generations of dams fussing over it. Standing in the middle of Durin's Hall, I started thinking of training him. He needed ta know nothing save ah sword in his right hand an Warhammer the left. Done planning my son's immediate future, I went back inside the main chamber an waited for the healer.

Thráin chuckled at his next memories and a hand caressed the silky smooth carving.

A pounding at the door had me throwing it open ta non-other than the head healer. "I didn't know ye were the healer my grandmother referred ta when word reached me one was on call."

The old healer brushed by me an snorted, "I brought ye into this world an will not let one of my imbecilic underlings near the royal family at ah time like this." He stalked into the bedchamber with me following.

I looked at the slight figure of my wife an looking at her slender hands gripping her belly in pain an realized she wasn't fit ta birth any dwarfling, let alone ah Durin. What was my father thinking when he allowed her ta marry me? The words of warning reinforced when she let out ah scream of pain. I turned an hurried far from my chambers an blindly rushed past statues called guards, running up the steps ta the rampart. I saw two posted guards.

"Leave me." Alone with my fears, I looked at the nightlights of Dale. I heard of women in that town dying in childbirth, but dwarves were hearty an I don't remember ever hearing of ah death. I looked at the twinkling stars this clear night an prayed all the prayers I knew. I watched the sky turn grey an then ah pink band formed in the east. Lost in thought, I didn't hear footsteps.

"Sudri sent his apprentice ta wake yer mother an me." Father let his presence be known.

"Why did ye choose her for me?" I snarled in rage an turned ta face my father, no longer the subservient subject or doting son.

"Well, if ye waited in yer chambers instead of fleeing like ah scared dwarfling, ye would be holding yer son right now."

"Lis?" I breathed out, not believing anyone could endure such anguish an still live.

"Well, she is feeding your son as I speak," Father stated with humor.

I looked into his blue eyes for deception an saw only love. I brushed by him an knew he was following by the way everyone stopped an bowed. We entered my chambers an I saw all my family gathered down to distant cousins.

"We thought you might have abandoned your new family and left for parts unknown." My grandmother broke the silence of everyone looking at me and I them.

"Where is he?" I asked an ignored the laughter grandmother's words had on them.

"I reckon with his mother," Father joked an that earned him another glare.

I stomped ta my bedchamber an hoped she was alone. "Leave us," I ordered my mother, who was holding ah small bundle. "Leave that thing with us."

Lis watched my mother place the baby on my side of the bed an depart without ah word, closing the door softly so not ta wake the wee bairn.

I carefully pulled ah soft woolen blanket away from his body so I could see all of him. "Now ye can diaper my son." Tradition instructed the newborn's gender had ta be verified by the father or male before swaddling. "Tomorrow he will be presented ta the mountain an lords for examination an there I will name him." I kept my eyes averted from my love for fear she was ailing an going ta die an it would be my fault.

"Thráin," she stopped my rambling an I looked at her with fear in my one eye.

"I was scared to death," I admitted. "Ye are so fragile an birthing ah Durin isn't like ah normal dwarfling."

"Birthing ah Durin is exactly like all other dwarflings," she countered an grasped my hand nearest her and squeezed firmly. A dying dam couldn't do that and I was assured she was fine. "Durin's may be gifted, but come into this world like any other dwarfling."

I snorted my disbelief. "Grandmother says it is harder."

"She birthed three strapping sons. Look at him."

I carefully picked the mite up in both hands. He weighed next ta nothing an was skinny, like his mother. His eyes opened an Durin blue's tried ta focus on me. Ah wisp of black fuzz pointed in all directions on his head. I carefully smoothed it into place an he seemed ta like my touch for he smiled. Unknown until Lis pointed it out; I was smiling exactly like him back.

"How did it go? I inquired an reached for ah diaper waiting on the bed an watched Lis tie it in place an dress him in ah tiny knitted gown. Rewrapping the blanket, she laid the baby on her breasts.

"I'm tired. Why don't you lie with us."

That sounded good, so I toed my boots off an shed my trousers, leaving my loose tunic. I positioned her against my chest an let my arms circle both of them, securing them in my firm grasp.

Settled, she told me how she screamed an swore she was going ta kill me ta the laughter of Master Sudri who informed her all dams swear ta kill the one who did this ta them.

Listening to her soft voice, I drifted off just as father entered an grabbed the baby. I was told later, he took him ta grandmother Zairi for her blessing. She took the child in frail arms and looked into his blue eyes. 'A hard life I see and then a strong king.' Word of her prognostication spread clear to Dale and for a time we wondered what she meant.

Next day, I proudly carried the bundle through the halls ta the balcony overlooking the entrance. I swear all thirty thousand dwarves were packed like fish in ah barrel. I unwrapped the blanket an let them get their first glimpse of his dark hair. A herald made the announcement.

'Here ye, here ye, on the third of March in the year twenty seven hundred and forty six of the Third Age of this world, a son was born to Crown Prince Thráin II and Princess Lis. He is hereby named, Prince Thorin II. Long may he live."

I remembered the cheering of the crowd an held my free hand up for silence. "He was presented to the Durin lords and is not a Durin reincarnate," I formally told the dwarves an heard their moans.

Thráin set the piece back where it was. He wondered just how good the lad he volunteered to spar really was. Slowly, he started stretching muscles from his chair. Then he stood and worked kinks out and felt a loosening of his body. He had a secret nobody knew about and tonight they would learn.

"I sense you are hiding." Elrond let his presence be known, when coming upon Thorin sitting on a log watching the slow moving stream, jaws moving in rhythm to the burbling of water breaking over a rock. Thorin was on the elven side, absently chewing on jerky. Without an invite Elrond sat down.

Thorin glanced at the intruder and offered piece and Elrond accepted by taking in from his fingers. They ate in silence, watching the water until both pieces were consumed.

Elrond reached in his own pocket and pulled an apple. Slicing it with a knife in a sheath on his belt, he offered half.

Thorin accepted by taking the offered half and took a bite. "I can't take the lasses chasing after me," he broke the silence while chewing around a bite.

"I've seen one pursuing you regularly. Is she from the White Mountains?" Elrond asked, although he was sure he was correct.

Thorin nodded and shoved the last bite in. Swallowing, he continued. "I'm scared to lie down for fear she will crawl in with me and I'll be forced to wed her."

"My patrols have come upon you the last five nights sleeping in the woods. As soon as we entered Mirkwood, it's been reported to me that you slip away from your kin at night. I've ordered guards to protect you."

"I almost wish something would eat me in the night."

Elrond sported a wide grin at the thought and then it dropped like a large rock falling off a cliff. "Mithrandir is contacting me."

Thorin watched in fascination while Elrond blanked out for a moment.

"We need to hurry to my camp. Mithrandir is going to show us something."

They both ran like the wind towards the elven camp.

Ten thousand dwarves were waiting in the arena and its six rows of circular seating was only a third filled. The natural amphitheater was carved from rock and voices in the center of the ring were plainly heard to the back elevated row. One end had boxes and ranking dwarrowdams and their dwarflings could be seen by common dwarves and they took note that Lady Aneht, the ranking dam, had the center seat.

Dóvad and Tóvad were escorted to a spot at ground level and had guards nearby, although escape wasn't possible. Cheering erupted from a quarter of the spectators when, Otsey, of the Blacklock Clan entered the arena and waived his Warhammer to the crowd that gathered on one side. He shouted, "I promise ta dust the gems an gold off this rich king." The crowd roared its approval on one side and boos resounded off the walls from the opposite side.

Dori strode into the ring to more cheers and catcalls. He raised his hand and the noise subdued. "Believe it or not, but I am the strongest Durin." There was good natured laughing and he continued. "I am not, however, the best fighter. Oh, I can hold my own, but Thorin Oakenshield and Dwalin regularly best me in sport. He looked at Otsey. "I'm not fighting you, lad. Now if we were to have a contest of strength, I would gladly volunteer. As king, Thráin has the right to spar and no amount of talking amongst the Durin's could assuage his determination. So, without further introduction, King Thráin."

Everyone rose to their feet in respect and clapped wildly. Thráin was accompanied by the rest of the Durin's and they all wore opulent Mithril and gold armor and the crowd thundered loudly at their rich leaders.

Gandalf stood along a wall on the top row. He didn't like this one bit and wondered what Thráin was up to. Dwalin or Dáin Ironfoot was more than capable of taking this youth out. He doubted Thráin was up to the task and had an idea. He reached out to his fellow ring holders. "Lady, Elrond, link and look through my crystal at a fight between Thráin and a dwarf from Jötunheim." He felt their power reaching back.

"Hold on, Mithrandir," Elrond stated. "We are all together and nearing Thranduil's halls. Thorin is with me and I'm going to try and have him watch also."

Gandalf's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Very well."

Thorin kept pace with Elrond and they ran through the woods and into the elven camp. At the great lord's haste, many sentries pulled weapons, sure they were being chased.

"Galadriel, Círdan, Glorfindel, Erestor, quickly, we need to form a circle and join powers."

Surprised elves watched those who had names called join hands in a circle. Erestor was linked to Galadriel on one side and Glorfindel the other and everyone had at least one hand linked to either Elrond or Galadriel, with Thorin holding Círdan and Elrond's hands. Others gathered around and Elladan shouted to Lord Garad to bring Gróin and other Durin's to watch. Soon a crowd gathered to see a white light glowing around the five participants.

Thorin saw the arena full of dwarves and his father decked in armor facing dwarf of equal size, although much younger. 'What are you doing, Father?' he mentally asked, not aware his thoughts were easily carried to the elves and wizard.

"They are fighting, Prince Thorin," Gandalf replied when he heard the voice in his head and was mildly surprised that Galadriel and Elrond could pull this off.

"Look, there's Father and Tóvad," Lióni exclaimed with excitement and pointed. In looking around the enclosed viewing area and greeting the Durin dams, they missed Dóvad and his son escorted to the fight until they were ringside.

Dóvad was surprised when a guard opened their cell and ordered them out. "Ye are going ta watch ah Blacklock get what ye should," the guard snarled. "One wrong move an we'll break yer legs." Dóvad saw a dozen guards and assured they wouldn't cause trouble.

Seeing someone wave from the box, he spotted his daughter and wife and waved back with smile of relief at them being well taken care of and sitting in the Durin's private box to boot. His attention was drawn back to the spectacle before him. He caught Thráin's eye and knew his best, young warrior challenged instead of pledging loyalty to the Durin's. He didn't know whether to be proud or ashamed.

Tóvad had no doubts who he favored to win. "Get him for me, Otsey," he hollered out. His voice carried to the crystal and Thorin ground his molars and vowed to teach the youth a lesson when he got to the mountain.

Thráin raised his gilded encrusted Warhammer with the Durin crest displayed on each side. "We have ah good turnout for our little match." The crowd laughed and clapped and he smiled, turning in a circle to see where the Blacklocks were seated. He hoped he wasn't struck down in the back by a rogue warrior, although piercing his mithril armor was unlikely.

Balin, also in resplendent armor joined them in the center of the ring. "I tried to talk sense into our king and have Dwalin fight in his stead. In response, our king instructed me to place all Durin's in armor and he is going to pick one for a real match after he spanks this dwarfling."

Otsey and several Blacklocks howled in anger.

Balin smiled at the youth. Thráin asked him personally to insult the young warrior and take his skilled edge off. He saw the ploy worked perfectly and maybe the king stood a chance. He signaled the match to begin and quickly hustled back to stand between Dwalin and Dáin.

Thorin Stonehelm was excited and waited anxiously for the first blow to fall. He knew his mother and sister was in the private viewing box, but didn't look up. He didn't want to miss a thing.

Thráin knew he couldn't use all his skill against this youth, for he needed surprise against his next opponent.

Far away, Thorin asked, "Gandalf, who is his next opponent? I thought he was only fighting once."

"This is the first I'm hearing of another bought. I may have to end things if Thráin gets injured. Don't worry, Thorin, I'll not let your father be seriously harmed," Gandalf assured with fingers crossed.

The dwarves and elves only heard Thorin's question and wondered what was happening. That Thorin was seeing something they couldn't was apparent.

Otsey saw an opening and swung against Thráin's blind side, sure he would knock the old dwarf off his feet.

Thráin saw the arm move and jumped back, smashing his Warhammer down. The massive head slammed Otsey's into the hard rock floor and it slipped out of the youth's hand. Half the audience groaned while the other half laughed and clapped. Thráin easily humiliated the young warrior. "Pick it up, lad," Thráin ordered. "I hope ye aren't their best warrior or the Blacklocks are in trouble."

Red faced with shame and glad for a helmet to cover burning cheeks, he snagged his weapon off the floor to much laughter and catcalling. Rage blinded him and he lunged, swinging wildly from side to side, sure he would back the old king off the floor and win by default. Skill and reasoning swiftly fled and it was what Thráin hoped would happen. He fought many opponents who lost their temper and those were the easiest to beat.

Thráin backed up half a dozen steps and then swung, blocking the Warhammer with his own. He had to give the youth credit for being fast and strong, for his arm ached at the effort. Just as fast, he slammed his down on a boot, eliciting a howl of pain from his opponent. He was warming up and danced around the youth, slapping the back of his helmet with the Warhammer. The youth went down with a groan. Thráin decided to end it and slapped Otsey's unprotected thigh with the Warhammer, eliciting a roar of pain from the youth and knocked the lad on his back and let the weight of the Warhammer rest on the exposed neck.

"Ye don't fight like any warrior I've ever encountered," Otsey panted and the Warhammer on his neck kept him from rising.

Thráin leaned over and whispered, "Because for the last fifty years, I've only fought orcs an wargs. My fights were to the death, so I had ta learn ah few new tricks. Now, go sit down an watch me show ye what I'm really capable of doing. Oh, while you're on your knees, pledge loyalty." He subtly switched to formal speech and helped Otsey into a kneeling position. Before everyone, Otsey pledged loyalty to Thráin and all Durin's.

He limped off and Thráin turned to his next opponent and pointed his Warhammer straight out. In a loud voice, he ordered…