Azie kept eyes on her knitting when Dáin walked softly into their home without stomping his heavy boots for once. He was relieved to see her alone and not surrounded by dams wanting to eavesdrop, or worse, take his Warhammer to him. What he didn't know is Theri volunteered to oversee their laundry to give the quarreling couple time to mend their rift. Aneht stayed in her room and stitched Durin crest embroidery on diapers.
"I owe ye an apology for what I said last night," he softly started what he hoped was a genial conversation.
Azie felt tears burn her eyes and kept them lowered. "You were harsh, Dáin."
"Ye made me look like ah fool." He got to what bothered him.
She raised her head and met his blue eyes with her own lighter shade. "I shouldn't have attended. Don't worry; I won't leave these chambers until the baby is here. My emotions always get the better of me when I'm packing your dwarfling." A tear rolled down along the side of her nose.
Dáin sighed. "Ye are three for three now. I was hoping ye would get through one pregnancy without playing the role of martyr."
Her eyes blazed with anger in a flash a knitting needle with much alacrity tried to find his hard head. He snagged it easily with his free hand; the other firmly planted behind his back holding his gifts.
"You Son of Smaug, get out of here," she screeched so loud, her mother-in-law heard from her chambers.
The older dam shook her head. "I don't know who's to blame this time; Azie or that Durin clod of mine she married," she muttered under her breath just as the door flung open and a crying Azie entered. "He called me a martyr for offering to stay away from everyone until my emotions are under control." She wiped her eyes with an embroidered handkerchief.
Aneht stood and put her sewing down. "Stay here and I'll have words with my idiotic son."
Dáin was pacing, having tossed the gifts on the table when she silently entered and observed him. He really wanted to forget the rest of the day and go for ale. Seeing his mother, he snapped. "I will volunteer ta fight the next orc army single handed, but don't ever expect me ta try an please ah dam again. I'm advising Thorin, both of them, ta run from yer gender."
Aneht quietly let him rant. When he finished, she pointed to the door. "I'll pack your things and you can move in with your soldiers. Azie's been sick every day with YOUR baby, while you get the fancy title of Durin and have equally stupid dwarves at your beck and call. If you want a place in these rooms, you will apologize to your wife and pamper her just a little. You like the pleasure of making dwarflings, but shirk being a loving husband worse than any dwarrow I've ever met and you shame your father and me. Your father was very good to me when I carried you. I know for a fact Thráin doted on Lis while carrying each of their dwarflings. You are old enough to remember of our trips to the mountain during those days. I know you were handed the title of lord of the Iron Hills while a young warrior, but you already sired a son, so should have known how to act from your father."
Dáin had flashbacks and knew he was out of line. "Where is she?" He spoke quietly leaving Aneht without doubt her words still carried weight.
"Why don't you wait for her in your chambers. I'll send her to you."
He gathered the gifts off the table and hurried to wait his wife.
Azie was tired and her mother-in-law told her to go and lie down so she didn't upset the baby.
"Aneh will be back soon from her lessons with Ori," Azie protested.
"I'll see to her," Aneht promised.
So with thoughts of sleep, she entered her bedchamber. It was large with an attached water closet and many walk in closets for clothes and personal items. There was a balcony that overlooked the stables, Dale and Ravenhill. She was surprised to see her husband waiting and looking sheepish. He had his armor off down to a tunic and pants, with his knee high boots shinning in the glimmer of gas lights.
"Let's start again," he offered softly and approached her. Taking her in his arms, he kissed her neck. "I'm sorry for not supporting ye like ah good husband should."
She dropped her head against his shoulder arm squeezing his middle. "I can't control my emotions and it's driving me crazy. I won't forget to take the herb that keeps dams from getting in this condition. What with the move, I was slothful and here we are, almost too old for ah baby."
"I for one am glad ye forgot," Dáin murmured into her ear. "I brought ye ah gift ta say I'm sorry." He pulled out of her arms and snagged an engraved wooden box off the table.
She opened. "This is gorgeous, Dáin," she gasped.
"Some of Hónid's final work," he admitted. "I hope ye don't mind, but I had Dóvad's wife, Lári, help. I ran into the wolf pack an used her as ah buffer."
Azie let anger enter her blue eyes. "They wouldn't think twice about becoming O-zalafaurkhas."
"Since it will never be with me, I would do the honor of removing their heads."
Mollified, she spotted the blanket and reached for it. "This is beautiful, but I will send you for another if we have a daughter."
He laughed, "That's exactly what I told Lári."
"What do you think of her?" Azie was curious.
"She didn't try an undress me in the middle of the market, so I like her."
"I think she would fit in with the dams of Durin's. Do you have any opinions on her daughter, Lióni?" Azie took the bag Dáin dropped into her hand while she was talking.
"That's ah little something from me ta my daughter," he admitted.
She pulled out the beautiful necklace and bracelet. "You have the Durin good taste."
"The lass Lióni has spirit, but I'll let Thorin decide what he thinks about her. I'm not the one with the daunting task of wading through so many females."
Azie set the diadem on her head and looked in the mirror.
Dáin moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her middle. Looking over her shoulder, he asked, "Can we make up proper in bed?"
She smiled back at him in their reflections and removed her diadem and everything else.
A horn sounded deep in the woods once again bringing the long caravan to a halt. Thranduil and Celeborn blocked the trail, while sitting on mounts directly in the road.
Elrond turned to look behind him at Galadriel. "Did you warn him?"
Galadriel replied, but kept her eyes on Celeborn. "No, I wanted to surprise him."
"He knows we're here," Glorfindel announced. "I saw the scouts three days ago. They must be under orders not to engage."
Celeborn scowled at his wife. "Hervess-nín, you better have one excellent excuse to bring our daeriell once again into danger." He spoke in Sindarin, but Thorin managed to make out his sentence.
"She wished to see the wonders of Erebor," Galadriel calmly answered in Westron as if giving a weather report.
"Just hope she makes the halls," he thundered and spun his horse, starting back the way he raced minutes before. Seeing for himself his beloved granddaughter traveled with them filled his fëa with rage.
Thranduil maneuvered his elk beside Círdan. "What brings you this far east?"
"Oh, I haven't been this way since the War of the Alliance," Círdan sagely replied. "I am seeing too many of your realm seeking ships. I am here partly to assess your numbers of warriors."
Thranduil mentally cursed the intuition of the old elf. "I may be running short, but pulled my borders ever closer to my halls. They aren't patrolling my south lands or the north. Celeborn loaned me several hundred."
"To the detriment of his own lands I'm sure," Círdan quipped sarcastically.
Riding his pony not far behind, Thorin glared at Thranduil's back.
Legolas traveled near the back of the caravan, both to cover their rear flanks and avoid his father. He was sure word that he was in the party reached the king before he waylaid the caravan, or his father would have strong words of their performance. Late that night as he sat in his self-appointed sentry location his fëa brushed against a presence. "I'm here as a favor to the lady," he spoke softly.
"My halls are bereft of warmth and hollow of meaning. Galadriel and Círdan threatened me if I so much as ruffled one silken hair on your head. You managed to get them on your side with speed that is impressive."
"I'm not on anyone's side. I was asked to lead Lady Galadriel's entourage and insure her warriors had a leader, since all of note traveled with Lord Celeborn in preparation for another battle. I didn't expect to come this way for many years."
"Still, you are welcome in my halls whenever you decide to come home."
Legolas felt the fëa depart and sat in thought. It went better than he hoped, but still held a fair amount of distrust his father was sincere.
Four days later, Thorin led his dwarves from the dank forest and they saw the Lonely Mountain shining like a beacon of welcome, standing tall against a blue background. He looked up and saw ravens circling and gave a nod and wave. Two broke off and made a beeline to the mountain and he knew within an hour his father would know he was close.
Elves moved from the path and let returning dwarves gaze in awe.
Gróin sank to his knees and cried in a loud voice, "Mahal, thank ye. The dream ye gave me the first night Smaug came on the burning planes outside Dale came true. Ye brought me home ta die."
Thorin and Garad helped the old Durin to his feet.
"I see nobody has repaired the stone bridge," Gróin commented when his eyes beheld the way they always traveled in ages past.
"We will see to it," Thorin promised. "Since I went by way of Thranduil's dungeon, I didn't pass this way."
Thranduil smirked down at him from atop his elk. "I have a barrel for you to shoot the rapids again, Princeling Thorin."
Glorfindel scoured every dene within a day's travel. He was sure the ravens would give notice should orc or warg be present. He nodded to Elrond that they should proceed and led the way across the bridge fording River Running.
It took all day for the long caravan to cross the mighty river. Three miles north, Elrond called for them to halt for the night. He gathered all dwarven leaders to his campfire. "The elves are leaving tonight. We will travel through the woods to Thranduil's halls and meet up north of Long Lake. You know the way home from here."
"Is there a reason you are departing?" Thorin asked, a cold chill settling in his backbone. He caught Elrond's eye and understood. "You are letting them see we are without elven protection. We are the bait for your trap."
"You will make a wise king when your turn comes again," Círdan sagely answered.
"Our scouts say your way is clear for the next two days. However, you might be ambushed near the rocks along Long Lake and beyond. We will take our warriors and come in from the north through Dale." When Celeborn softly spoke, everyone hushed to hear his words. "There we will gather men and King Thráin's army."
"Want to place a bet that my father will be leading them?" Thorin asked Celeborn soberly.
A general chuckle flowed outwards from the fire.
"I watched your father fight the last battle. No, I'm not losing any coin to you," Celeborn abruptly stated and moans from the dwarven contingency was heard.
Thorin smirked at the great elf lord.
A long mournful blast sounded the arrival of elves. Balin threw his pen into a cup and rushed from his office and down the hall to where King Thráin held a private meeting with respective kings from Dale and the far southland Edoras of the Rohan.
Bard straightened at the sound. "Are we under attack?"
Thráin listened. "That would be arrivals from the halls of Thranduil."
Fengel snorted in disdain. "I for one am not impressed with the great lord Celeborn, nor his cousin, Thranduil."
Thráin ever so slightly smirked, so only Bard caught the tick in his face. "What do ye know about elves?"
"That they think they own these lands," Fengel snapped in irritation. "They stay secluded in their communities and never mingle blood with us mortals."
"I believe Lord Elrond comes from mixed blood," Thráin countered. "I for one am glad they are our allies, for if ye think Sauron is bad, being the enemy of an elf is much worse. Orcs are slow an clumsy, breaking branches on the ground ta sound their location. An elf would kill ye before ye knew he was near."
Balin burst through the office door. "Ori was taking his turn on the rampart for when ah raven came with a message. He didn't need a messenger when he saw an entire army of elves rounding the walls of Dale."
The large horn sounded and Thráin stood. "I will forgo bringing the elves ta my throne an greet them myself." He led the way to the entrance and motioned for the doors to be opened. Flanked with the two human kings and hastily called lords, he was stunned when the lady of the wood entered his kingdom upon her white charger.
Thráin noted her position beside Lady Arwen was behind all elven lords of note. Her face brightened with a trademark smile when she spotted him and their eyes met.
"Welcome to the kingdom of Erebor," he roared above the din of horses, elves and gathering dwarves.
The Company quickly gathered behind their king. Dáin pushed through bodies until standing at the left of Thráin. Young Thorin did likewise until at his father's left.
Galadriel dismounted and saw her assigned guard placing a hand on Rohirrim's mane to keep him in place and comfort him mentally.
Before Galadriel, Círdan dismounted, knowing the brightness of the lady shrouded his appearance. He laid a warm hand on Arwen's shoulder and pushed her gently aside so he faced Thráin, elf to dwarf.
Dáin and the Company looked surprised when their own king bowed to this strange dwarf. Their curiosity was assuaged when Thráin spoke. "Lord Círdan, master of the seas, welcome to my halls. As you displayed compassion in our suffering, let me repay and we will sing songs of victory over Smaug together."
Círdan nodded his head in acceptance and looked around. "When I found you in Dunland, starving and threadbare, I never dreamed you left such riches."
"I tried to explain," Thranduil interrupted.
"Lad, you and nobody could explain the wonders of Erebor," Círdan patiently replied. He looked back to the king. "May I impose on your kindness for a tour when Thorin is safe in these halls?"
"Aye, I personally will take all who've never graced my halls on ah tour ye won't soon forget," Thráin agreed and turned to Galadriel. He bowed low and saw her curtsy in exchange.
"You are a survivor, King Thráin," Galadriel proclaimed and silence descended on the halls, so all could catch her words. "You did invite us to your halls."
Thráin grinned openly. "Aye, my lady, an I'm happy ta have ye an yer beautiful granddaughter visit. My servants, as we speak, make rooms fit for ah queen."
Celeborn snorted, drawing all eyes to him. "My lady will tent with me outside your walls."
"No, Celeborn," Galadriel countered and everyone could see a showdown sparking. "King Thráin trusted our hospitality and we will accept his." She turned back to the dwarf king. "My granddaughter, Arwen, and I accept your offer. I'm sure the ellon will escape to their lonely tents, pondering the mischief two elleth capable."
"You and my daughter will sleep in tents surrounded by our guards," Elrond demanded and turned to Thráin. "We will not impose on your hospitality with so many pouring into your halls, and I overrule my mother-in-law in this matter."
Thráin looked amused at the tall elf lord. "I didn't know ye were the more powerful."
"I have assistance in the form of her irate husband. She is no match for us both."
"I will acquiesce this once, Elrond," Galadriel submitted.
Thráin pushed between Elrond and Celeborn and approached one so fair. "Lady Arwen, ye honor me by wearing yer gift."
"This is the finest diadem I now own and the box of gems will complete my wedding attire. If you still live when I wed, consider this a personal invite."
"Done, Lass," Thráin cried enthusiastically.
Galadriel threw a glance at her husband and reached to place her soft, white fingers on his outstretched hand. 'I trust him, Celeborn. He is nothing but honest.'
'He is a treacherous dwarf.' Celeborn protested into her mind, but didn't move a facial muscle.
"My lords and ladies," a voice boomed out and everyone turned to see Gandalf hailing them. "I would have greeted you properly, but the warm underground rivers beckoned me to taste their seduction." He still had wet hair and looked to have hastily thrown on his robes.
Thráin sighed and turned to the ladies of Elrond and Celeborn. "Gandalf won't allow me to risk my army before needed."
"Thráin," Gandalf bellowed and once again the entrance chamber fell silenced. "if elves are here, your son is close and now is the time to muster your forces."
"Give me of your wisdom, Gandalf," Thráin meekly suggested. "I would not have my son fight another battle just ta return ta his birth place. Where are the forces of Sauron?"
Gandalf pushed through dwarves until towering over the king and looked upon the elves he'd known for an age with a smile of greeting and delight to see Círdan this far east. He laid a gnarled hand on the king's shoulder. "There is one more battle to get Thorin and the others safely into these halls. I won't lie to you."
"And I wished them to slip in under darkness of night. Can they still do so?" Thráin asked the wizard, seemingly forgetting the elves.
Gandalf gave pause. "I don't think so, Thráin," he soberly gave his advice. "Sauron is waiting with the remnants of his army and the Nazgûl. They would be slaughtered traveling strung out at night." He looked around. "Bring the elves and dwarves of note to your private chambers. There we will meet and plan. Are you keeping Lord Dóvad and his son locked up for this important battle? He should be leading the warriors of Jötunheim and his son is a formidable fighter from what his people say."
Thráin looked to Dáin, "Fetch Dóvad ta the meeting."
Dáin slapped Dwalin on the shoulder and the two departed quickly.
"We will have formal introductions in the war chamber," Thráin decreed. "Lord Elrond, I will leave the selecting of elves ta ye, but I wouldn't leave the Witch of the Goldenwood out or she might challenge ye on bragging rights as most powerful elf."
Elrond grinned. "I assure you, all invited to the meeting know who they are without a formal invite."
Thranduil mentally gave the silent order. 'Everyone not ranking lord or lady, depart these halls and set our camp on the river between here and Dale. That way we can protect both.'
To the dwarves and men, it looked the elves knew exactly what to do without instruction.
Fengel wondered if he could get his army trained like elves and Bard knew a silent communication was issued, but not which lord gave it." He would inquire as to who was powerful enough to order all elves about.
Thorin looked warily about. Two days before they exited the safety of the trees and now were working along the east edge of Long Lake. Stopping for the night was met with nets and fishing lines hoping to haul enough catch to offset their meager fare of dried jerky. Tonight fires roared and fish stew bubbled in hundreds of pots. Thorin walked the length of the caravan and shook his head when dams tried to entice him to their fires for a bite of food. He looked at the ever closing mountain and knew with one hard push, they could be home by midnight the next night, or two days of leisure travel. He watched the ravens fly, but none landed, so he figured all was well. Little did he know, the ravens were under strict orders to report only to the mountain.
Thráin rapped his knuckle dusters on the table drawing all talking to a close. "First, I want to welcome our elven allies and friends to Erebor."
The present Company and lords applauded until Thráin raised his hand. "I know elves capable of remembering names the first time introduced, so I'll start to my right and Lord Balin." One by one, he called out names, their title and place of origin before the mountain and if Blacklock. By the time he finished, Dáin and Dwalin entered with another dwarf between them.
"Just in time," Thráin announced. "Only a few might not know Lord Dáin Ironfoot of the Iron Hills." He pointed to the ginger haired dwarf. "And my general, Lord Dwalin and brother to Lord Balin."
Dwalin glared at everyone, trying to intimidate, but figured he didn't scare one elf, not even the lass. His eyes widened at the tall, svelte female elf of long golden locks. 'No wonder Thráin rambled at length on her appearance,' he thought before letting his eyes move to the next elf, a bearded one at that.
"Lord Dóvad," Thráin moved the meeting along. "Are you ready to apologize and swear allegiance to the crown and oath to protect and serve Erebor?"
"Aye, King Thráin." Dóvad sank to one knee and stared the king in the eye. "I swear to serve you and all Durin's. On behalf of my dwarflings and ill-conceived first meeting, I apologize and it won't happen again. But most of all; I'm ashamed I disparaged your honor at Azanulbizar. I know you fought bravely and would never sell your soul for life."
All the while he spoke, Thranduil kept a silent running diatribe. 'Sniveling coward, tell Thráin you decided his dungeon was preferable to groveling like a worm. Why even Thorin showed backbone when in my kingdom and refused to deal with what he thought a trader king. I hope your daughter weds the princeling and you have to remain here all your days and lose your hole in the ground in the Orocarni…'
'I have foreseen Lord Dóvad's daughter doing just that," Galadriel interrupted.
Thranduil smiled at her. 'He will sleep with one eye open like I did.'
Círdan flicked his wrist and Thranduil felt a pain in his side. He glared at the offender. 'I wish to hear this.'
Thranduil rubbed his side, but shut up.
"Rise and take your place as my lord. Time will tell if you return to Jötunheim as its ruler, or remain as father to the queen." Done with formal speech, he was pleased to hear Dóvad put forth the effort in return. He looked to Bard and Fengel. "These are our two human kings volunteering their meager warriors to our effort. You will both be rewarded for the effort."
Fengel perked up at the thought of gaining dwarven coin.
Galadriel gazed upon the one who harmed her beloved. Her face remained neutral, but she silently commanded, 'Keep that oaf from me or I my ring will not show restraint.'
The elves gave one quick uniform smile and all eyes were on Fengel.
Bard caught the smile and their eyes. He leaned close to Fengel. "You made an enemy of all elves. Watch your back."
Fengel only saw serene expressions on the elves, almost as if they were bored. "I made up with them. Why I will tell Celeborn's wife personally I'm sorry for harming her husband." Although whispering, the keen hearing of the elves caught every word. Fengel saw a golden haired male, he assumed, drilling holes in his direction. To his shock the face illuminated a white-gold, much like Celeborn's sword. "Who is that?"
Bard followed the eyes. "Someone who died thousands of years ago."
Fengel discreetly laughed. "Now, I know you're pulling my leg." They turned attention back to the dwarves.
Elrond and Thráin spoke for their races and the elf lord had no problem ordering Fengel like he was a serf upon hearing the harm brought to his father-in-law. It was determined the men would protect Dale and keep a guard with their horn signaling location of the enemy. Between Dale and Erebor blasting with horns to where orcs clustered; they figured a route of the enemy to be swift.
"Just so ye know, I'm leading all dwarven armies, like I did at Azanulbizar." He knew no Durin would object publicly and grinned at them.
Celeborn remembered Thorin's prediction and was glad he didn't offer a wager of coin against the prince.
Elrond nodded his acceptance for all elves that they agreed with his decision and ignored Thranduil's inaudible, 'All elves surround Thráin and keep that imbecilic son of his off the throne.'
'I feel the same way about being on your throne,' Legolas, from his place beside the twins at the rear of the elves, finally spoke to his father.
"They will be here in two days," Thráin ended. He watched while elves and dwarves mingled with satisfaction that his dreams all those long years in captivity coming to fruition. Elves and dwarves were friends and working together.
Dwalin looked at the tiny campfires along the east shores of Long Lake. He was on guard and head Durin for the night shift. He knew Thorin was among the lights that looked like fireflies in the far distance. A shadow crossed his vision and he looked up. In the dark, he could hear the swooshing of wings and wondered if the great eagles were flying cover and keeping guard. He shifted his gaze to the elven camp and saw warriors running about, so knew the flying object wasn't an eagle. Then he remembered in the meeting; the elves explaining Nazgûl and the beasts they rode. He wondered if the attack was happening two days out so they couldn't get to them in time. Thinking wasn't his best subject and he wished Balin didn't put him in charge this night. He needed help and motioned with sign to a guard to fetch Balin.