A handful of warriors slipped through the stables into the mountain. The large doors were shut and it was two hours after the midnight hour. Warriors dispersed to their hall, except two that climbed wearily flights of stairs to the Durin wing. Guards stood like statues in flickering torchlight. Dáin and Thorin bid each other goodnight and one parted to his chambers, praying the dams were sleeping and the other to check on his father. He wasn't surprised to find him still up.

"Waiting up for my report?" he asked laughingly.

Thráin turned from the glass door leading to his private patio. "Nay, son. My mind won't let me rest. All those dank years in captivity I dreamed of this day. Gróin an I hugged, cried an conjured up memories long dead, an all the while standing in the middle of traffic, blocking the entrance."

Thorin let a soft smile creep in unaware. "You are the king. If you want to block any entrance in this mountain, it is your right."

Thráin smiled back. "Well, I best turn in. Tomorrow is ah long day, starting with ah quick meeting with all lords, an then we are hosting supper for eleven royalty, Bard an Fengel at seven."

"Goodnight, Father." Thorin watched him go and went down a hall that linked to his own chambers. He saw Picket had turned lights down low, so he had just enough to see by as he made for his bed, weary beyond endurance. He dropped his armor in the main chamber and knew it would be taken for cleaning and polishing while he slept. He kicked the heavy door shut with the heel of his boot, dropping a line of clothes towards the bed. The tunic he tossed in the direction of his laundry basket and reached for the buckle of his pants. A movement under the covers stopped his hand and he stealthily grabbed the sword he already removed and set on the night table by his bed. Slowly, he grabbed the edge of the quilt and ripped it off, letting his sword rest against the neck of someone. He squinted in the dim light and swore, "Mahal take me now."

The very naked dwarven lass tried to sit up and felt metal against her throat. "Are you going to kill me for daring what the other lasses don't have the backbone for?"

Thorin jerked his blade from her delicate throat. "How did you get in here?" He realized she was in the buff and tossed the cover back over her, keeping his eyes on her face.

"I followed your father's servant in, by carrying a bag right behind and when the guard opened the door for him, he assumed I was also doing business in your chambers. Once in, I slipped behind a settee until the servant left."

Thorin gave it to her for audacity and telling the truth. He was still trying to figure what to do with her. "Get up and dressed. I'll escort you to your parents."

She smiled in triumph. "And by morning all of Erebor will know you and I were alone. I will be assured the throne."

"Not if I toss you off my balcony," he snarled in rage; exhaustion dictating his demeanor. His education of the unwed, which would stoop to any low for the title of queen, was just beginning. He had a thought and smiled evilly. "I'm taking you to my father. He will escort you home. Nobody will besmirch his name or reputation."

"I'll tell everyone you and I were alone in your chambers and I didn't have a stitch to on." She slipped out of bed and pushed her body against his bare chest, soft mounds meeting rough hair and solid muscle.

When silky skin slid against his hair roughened chest, he felt a stirring deep in his gut and entertained a fleeting thought of taking her roughly on his bed. Quickly stepping back, he hurried to the door. "I'm bringing back the king. You can't do that to him. If you don't want the king spanking your bare backside, I suggest you be presentable when we return."

"No," she grew desperate. She waited for him to reach his main chamber and ran past him, throwing open the door into the hall and started screaming, "Help, help, someone keep Thorin Oakenshield from having his way before we are married."

The guards in the hall eyeballed the naked lass as she ran down the hall screaming Thorin was trying to rape her. Doors flew open and half-dressed Durin's got an eyeful.

Azie heard a female screaming and followed Dáin to the door and realized he was just coming to bed. She looked around to keep young Thorin from seeing the lass when she glimpsed her run past their open door, naked as the day she was born. "Dáin, get her in here," she snapped.

Dáin spun from his place in the open door, mouth trying to work and his face red. "Me?"

"Yes, you are bonded and other than seeing something you've already seen, won't stir like the young bucks before their time." She spotted a throw and tossed it to him.

Dáin braved the now snickering soldiers and wrapped the lass up. "Get ye inside an Azie will see ta ye."

Tears flowed down her cheeks and she pulled the cloth to her eyes to hide her shame and cursed the day her parents were born.

Azie kicked Dáin into the hall and shut the door in his face. He looked at it stunned. "I'll be danged." He turned around to a crowd of Durin's Folk. "Don't ask me what happened." He pointed to Thorin, now in the crowd with the king. "The lass said Thorin molested her."

"I hope you're talking about your Thorin," Oakenshield growled.

"I'm talking about the one wearing only trousers," Dáin replied. "If ye are thawing, Thorin, this lass is as good as any."

"I'm not marrying her. She's a gold-digger," Thorin loudly protested.

"Yer ah calling my daughter ah tramp?" The raging voice of her father had everyone spinning searching for the one claiming the lass.

Thráin took control. "Thorin, lords, with me." He turned back to his chambers and they dutifully followed, including the father, vociferously claiming injury to his family name and Thorin better make it right, while in the company of soldiers and dams.

Picket appeared and turned the gas lights to full and the room lit with mostly bewildered Durin lords and one angry prince.

Thorin stalked to the father of the lass. "Before I run you through, explain how your daughter found her way to my bed while I was out fighting to save your sorry hide."

"Now, Thorin, that's no way ta speak ta yer future father-in-law," the dwarf cajoled and spread his hands in a gesture of friendship.

"There will be no wedding, for I'll not have a scheming tramp," Thorin roared, his face red in anger. He spun to his father. "Banish them from my sight, or I'll toss the entire family off the rampart."

Thráin let his gaze drift between Thorin and the dwarf lord and back. He sighed. "At our meeting in the morning, bring this lord before me. I'll make ah judgement then. Now if there are no more naked lasses in my son's bedchamber, I say we all get some sleep. I want all lords with daughters in ah meeting at six. All Durin lords are ta be present also an that includes the Company lords."

Everyone departed leaving father and son alone. "Do I have ta tuck ye in?"

Thorin snorted. "It's coming to that." He was more cautious entering his bedchamber the second time.

The lord collected his now dressed daughter and they marched through a long line of laughing guards to their assigned chambers.

"Gimli, you need to wake now." His mother, Gellett, gently shook her son's shoulder.

Gimli opened his eyes and looked up at a strange ceiling. "I hardly remember lying down."

"You came into the mountain dead on your feet. I told Thorin you were too young for a full blown battle, but he overruled me."

Memories flooded back. "It was great, Ma. I'm going ta be ah soldier." He swung his feet over the edge and went rigid when she spoke again.

"The dams are looking for Thorin Stonehelm. I thought maybe he came in with you and I missed him. He isn't hiding in here is he?" She looked around.

"Uh, uh….no. Did they check with Dáin?" he deflected. It would be a cold day in Mahal before he ratted Thorin out.

"Dáin didn't come home after a brief appearance. You missed some excitement, although I was guarding your door and wouldn't have let you see her."

Relieved for a change of topic, he pulled the clean tunic he donned after bathing right before he was escorted by Ori to his bed. "What happened?"

"One of the Durin hopefuls tried to trap Thorin Oakenshield into a wedding. Azie told me the girl was hysterical; not because of her humiliation, but she failed her father. The lass confessed her parents set it up and if she played her cards right, she would be queen of all Thorin's wealth. Azie saw right through her lies until she spoke truth and Azie informed Dáin when he went back to his chambers to give the girl to her father. Before Azie could grill him as to Thorin Stonehelm's whereabouts; that scamp mumbled something about protecting Oakenshield and disappeared. He hasn't been seen since and now all the lords are meeting now."

"I should be there," Gimli complained and stomped his boots just pulled on to force his heels down. "These boots are too small," he complained.

Gellett sighed. "I'll go to the market today and shop for another pair."

"No, I want Durin boots with engraved toes displaying the Durin crest."

"Gimli, they are too expensive."

"We are rich now. Father gets ah fourteenth of Thorin's share an Ori told me it was more than any of us could spend in ah lifetime."

"I wish your father was here to make such a decision," Gellett grumbled and escorted him to their main chamber. "We are to meet the lords for breakfast when a servant comes with news their meeting is finished."

"I'll starve ta death," Gimli exaggerated.

His mother handed him an apple.

Celeborn watched the night sky give way to another day and the morning star shining brightly. He didn't sleep, but kept watch over Elrohir while Elrond rested on a cot in the same tent. Elladan came back from escorting Galadriel and Arwen from the mountain to visit Elrohir, saddled his horse and left. He wanted to ride with the younger elf, but Glorfindel showed up on the back of Asfaloth and mentally told him he would watch the other twin that night. He knew they patrolled the area, killing anything foolish enough to show themselves.

'How is our elfling this morning?'

He slipped into the quiet tent and laid a hand on his grandson's chest. 'Stronger. I'm sending him to the mountain today to be your escort.' He imparted healing; satisfied Elrohir was almost well and would be already, if not for taxing himself during the battle.

'I need you to check on the dwarf, Thorin Stonehelm.'

'He need killing?'

'No, meleth-nín; he needs your special healing touch. He is a youth and Durin. The dams are just finding out he isn't in the mountain and I fear for the king's life when they discover their baby is injured. Lord Dáin, his father, is hiding from his wife.'

'Tiny dwarven minds are not capable of coherent thought. Let them beat Dáin to death. I'll come to the mountain and watch.'

'You're as bad as Thranduil.'

Inwardly he smiled when she cut the link in a huff. He wandered to the healing tents and asked after the dwarf in question.

Thráin sat at the head of the conference table. He noticed Gandalf joined them this early morning and was seated in his customary place opposite him at the far end of the long table. It was crowded with all major lords and lesser ones took seats along the wall. He was pleased to see his handpicked lords in their places. He sternly looked around the table.

Gandalf, uncertain as why a meeting was called at the break of dawn, broke the strange silence dwarves were not noted for. "This is a merry gathering this fine summer morning. I happened by just as the doors were opening and soldiers leaving on patrol. Imagine my surprise when their captain commented you all were meeting to decide the fate of a lord. I hurried in to be of service." While his mouth smiled, his eyes gave a warning look to Thráin and Thorin. His gaze shifted to Dáin and widened at the chagrined look he was giving the table. "Lord Dáin, I hope you aren't the lord in question."

Dáin snorted. "More like I'm trying ta find ah reasonable excuse ta tell the dams why my son is in the elven healing tent."

Gandalf's eyes twinkled. "I peeked in on my way here and believe it or not, Lord Celeborn was healing him."

"I'll choose not to believe it," Thorin snarled. "Now, if we are done with Dáin's clumsy son, we have another matter to discuss." He looked directly at the lord in question, who slumped in his chair.

Thráin rapped the table with his knuckle dusters. "Let's get this meeting over with. The ladies are waiting ta join us for breakfast with the youngsters so we can all get acquainted. Gandalf, you're also invited."

Gandalf smiled his acceptance and watched carefully, wondering what could have happened in the short hours of night this far north.

"Lord Pýirt, your daughter gave an interesting story ta Lady Azie last night. For those who aren't aware of what transpired. Thorin tried ta retire an was met by ah naked lass named Byrta, an the daughter of Lord Pýirt. She tried ta seduce Thorin, an when that didn't work ran down the hall without ah stitch on crying rape. Azie calmed her down an realized she wasn't frightened of Thorin, but her parents, who put her up ta the deed…" He didn't get further words out before half a dozen lords cried foul and challenged Pýirt to fights.

Again Thráin's knuckle dusters rapped until silence ensued. "Her first story was Thorin invited her ta his bedchamber before leaving for Jötunheim an they had secretly seen each other on the sly. Azie laughed in her face an told her ta come up with ah better story. The second was her parents plotted what happened last night an threatened her with ah wedding ta ah miner if she failed ta land Thorin. That version, Azie believed."

Pýirt scowled. "It should have worked."

"Yes, on any dwarf not of Durin blood," Thráin agreed. "You underestimated ah Durin. Now for yer punishment an ah lesson ta other fathers. Don't try anything or suffer Lord Pýirt's fate." He stood and motioned the lord to rise also and issued a formal decree.

Gandalf looked on with interest.

"Lord Pýirt, for trying to steal the title queen for your daughter; you and your family will leave the mountain and forever more your blood will be disqualified from seeking marriage with a Durin. You are banned from mingling with other lords and will be on the next caravan back to the Iron Hills. There, you will submit yourself to Lord Glóin for further discipline that involves a year of breaking ore deep in the mines. When you have finished your year, you may resume your duties as lord."

Pýirt looked like he was going to protest until Dwalin stood. "You have just been dismissed."

Without a backwards glance, the disgraced lord stalked off.

Thráin looked one by one at the other lords with hopeful lasses. "Let that be ah lesson in yer behavior. One will be chosen an the others are expected ta be good sports an wish the lucky lass good luck. Ye are invited ta the Durin dining hall for breakfast, an I trust your daughters will be under control. Soon, Thorin will escort each available lass on ah stroll with chaperones. He will start weeding them out. When one is told they are eliminated, the families will make ta return ta yer homes when caravans depart. This will be ah quick courtship so caravans can beat the snows over the Misty Mountains."

"And if ah lass is chosen from the White Mountains?" Thráin's brother-in-law asked.

Thráin grinned at him. "Sure are we?"

"Ye bet I am." Fárin returned the exact satisfied toothy grin.

"I'll let Dis choose names from ah pot an we'll have ah drawing ta see who goes in what order."

"I agree." Gandalf audibly approved.

"One more order of business," Thráin decreed. He looked at the lords until seeing the one he was after. "Lord Dóvad." All eyes turned to the unrepentant dwarf. "Are ye done fighting Durin's?"

"Aye, I lost my temper out on the battlefield. It won't happen again."

"I gotta hear this story," Balin uttered and several heads nodded, so those involved regaled everyone with the bought between Dóvad and Thorin.

"Ye are forgiven," Thráin stated. "I reckon if positions reversed, I'd be in ah fighten bad mood also." He looked at the lords with daughters. "One of ye will be my equal in the title grandfather. Don't disappoint me. That's all I have. Gather the dams an young an we'll see if Bombur's cooks are as skilled as he is."

Bombur snorted. "That'll be the day."

A messenger was waiting when the crowd of short dwarves and one towering wizard exited Thráin's conference room. "M'lord," the messenger bowed to Thráin. "I am ta inform ye that the elves left ta dine with their kind this morning, but they will join ye for supper. Also, Lady Galadriel says ta Lord Dáin that she informed Lady Azie her son is in the hands of elves an not ta take ye ta task."

Dáin let a flicker of relief enter his eyes and snorted. "I'm not scared of my wife."

Everyone laughed.

Thráin slapped him on the shoulder as he passed. "Then I expect ye will be escorting her personally ta breakfast. If memory serves me, ye are all talk."

Thorin laughed as he walked past.

"Ye will be just like me someday, Thorin," Dáin called at his retreating back.

Galadriel and Arwen entered the tent of Círdan after checking on Elrohir, who was still sleeping. Servants bowed while Celeborn and Elrond raised their eyebrows.

Glorfindel quickly departed the tent and spoke to Calendhel, who was charged with the safety of the elleth. "You were supposed to send a runner if they left the mountain."

"They didn't give me a chance," Calendhel defended. "They departed their rooms and said to escort them here. I tried to get her to stay until we secured her path, but she waved me off."

"Eat and find twenty elves not injured to replace your guarding of the ladies," Glorfindel ordered and hastened back into the tent.

Galadriel was eating at the table reserved for Círdan and his handpicked guests; leaders of elven Middle Earth. The younger elves and lesser lords shared a second table and servants served the finest fare they could muster under circumstances. Still the table was graced with fruit; fish caught that morning and biscuits smothered in butter and wild honey.

"I insisted that Thráin have a trade summit while we are here," Círdan stated. "He agreed and the date is in two days. He said today that he needed to merge his newest clans into a homogeneous unit and get Thorin started in the courting process." He looked at Galadriel. "Did you disclose your information to Thráin?"

She swallowed her bite of fish before responding. "Not yet. I will meet with him this afternoon privately and inform him. What he does with the information we will wait and see. I saw the book."

Thranduil looked intrigued. "Is it unharmed?"

"Yes. Ríllas and you are the last entries. Arwen will be next and most likely the last before the book is carried to the shores of Aman and presented to the three High Kings."

"I'm curious," Thranduil queried, "are there more such books?"

"Yes; Lord Oromë logged our major battles and will most likely the final defeat of Sauron. It too will be a gift to the High Kings and reside in a special Hall in the library of Taniquetil."

Glorfindel nodded in remembrance. "I've been to that library many times. It carries visual accounts of many special moments; both sides of the sea. Elves come from all over to visit and relive or view history from the dawn of Arda."

Celeborn raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "I've seen that book many times and it is just pictures and Cirth."

"In the right hands, it comes to life," his wife reminded him.

Legolas entered and hurried to Celeborn. "I found a large group of orcs hiding in an unoccupied building in Dale. They didn't challenge me, but ran into the woods and scattered. I saw them carting off a young female and when we did a head count, it was King Bard's eldest daughter carried away.

Elrond thought he was going to faint as memories flooded back. He felt hands on his shoulders and knew his two trusted advisors were all that kept his face from the dirt.

"Prepare to ride," Celeborn mentally shouted and there was a scurry as elves left their breakfast and ran for horses grazing on the nearby hill where grass was thick and verdant with recent rains.

"Stay with our lord," Glorfindel instructed Erestor and accepted the reins from Elladan for his horse.

"Where is Bard?" Elrond managed.

"Being restrained by his warriors," Legolas replied. "I suggested that elves are better equipped to track and return his daughter."

"You will make a wise king in due time," Elrond complimented him.

Legolas' countenance darkened. "I hope that day never comes."

Thranduil mounted his elk and with Celeborn by his side, took the lead and they rushed into the woods with two hundred elves, seeking and killing any orc in their path.

Erestor rarely ever called out to the Lady of the Golden Wood, but today, he made an exception. 'M'lady.'

Galadriel appeared almost immediately and saw the tattered state her son-in-law was in. "Elrond, they will find her today."

Elrond spun on her, eyes full of wrath. "I believe that's what Celeborn told my iôns in Caradhras Pass. You see how that turned out." He took a deep breath and shook Erestor's hand off his shoulder. "I'm visiting King Bard." Without a backwards glance, he mentally called for his horse.

"Go with him, mellon-nín," Galadriel advised and turned to find Arwen, white with fear and listening. Her grandmother's instincts took over. "Come, we are needed in the mountain."

Dáin straightened his spine and pushed the door to his chambers open. As expected, he was greeted by elder dams and his daughter. "Come, breakfast is ready," he blustered rapidly.

"And our son?" Azie's quiet voice told him she didn't buy his haste.

"Being tended for ah scratch by the elves. Now, I'm hungry." He motioned at the door.

"Is it a scratch along the line that Thorin Oakenshield received?" Aneht took up the next question.

"Not hardly," he scoffed.

"Did you see for yourself or take the word of someone?" Azie fired at him.

"I took the word of our Crown Prince, who did see him. If you remember, I was ah tad wee busy driving orcs from yer bedchamber." He let a fair amount of scorn creep in.

"I want to see him," Azie ordered and stared him in the eyes.

Dáin let his eyes drift to her growing midsection and sighed. "Please join me for breakfast with the king an I'll give ah detailed report ta ye."

"If he is injured beyond a scratch, Dáin Ironfoot, I'll pray to Mahal every day until this bairn is born that it is a girl." Even though an elf paid them an early morning visit and assured them the injury was minor, they felt the need to harass Dáin.

Seeing the fight was over, Dáin grinned and held out his arm for her to slip a delicate hand in the crook of his elbow. "I'm not Balin."