Dwalin, in gilded armor splendor stood at the entrance to Dóvad's chambers. "I am to be your escort." His abrupt sentence ended and he didn't enter, nor budge from his place.

Dóvad saw no less than twenty heavily armed warriors in the hall behind the lord. He turned to the ladies. "It's time."

Lióni visibly trembled and Dóvad quickly stepped to her side and drew her to him with an arm about her shoulders. "Lass, I will be right behind ye the entire time. Yer not going ta an execution." He saw his lame joke fall on deaf ears and placed her trembling hand in the crook of his arm. They fell into step behind Dwalin, with an armed escort on each side. The passages were empty, for all were waiting in the Great Entrance.

Thorin and all Durin's were already assembled on the balcony and he looked upon the massive crowd below. In the back, near the entrance, he spotted elven lords and Bard with his children. He turned to Balin and spoke softly, "Outside the witch, who knows my choice, do you suppose my announcement will come as a shock to the elves?"

Balin looked to see which of the elves were curious enough to attend. All elven lords and ladies were present along with several humans. "I'm sure the announcement won't come as a surprise to them. The only thing that amazes me is you are actually going through with marriage and not running off to reclaim Moria."

"The thought has occurred to me," Thorin muttered and looked around. He let his eyes wander ever upwards to the multitude of levels with their walls of green granite, illuminated by many torches. He dreamed so long of being here and regretted the life stolen from him. Forcing himself back to the present from morbid thoughts, he stood with hands clasped behind his back.

Movement at the back of the balcony told Thorin she arrived. He glanced around and caught her eyes and flashed a smile. He heard of tales about nervous lasses at this presentation and relieved for her sake it was the only one she was forced to attend. His eyes dropped to her gown of burgundy with inlays of purple and thought her beautiful in it.

Turning back to the masses, he raised a hand and the hall went quiet. In his strong, deep voice, he began. "To all assembled, I have chosen you a future queen. It is my sincere wish that never again is a Durin subjected to so many choices at once." He waited for the clapping and laughter to die down and smiled down upon his subjects. "It was said when my father presented my mother on this exact spot, that there were murmurings of her frailty; yet my mother went on to bear three healthy dwarflings. I want you to know, although my choice is slender and not robust; I'm sure she is quite able to sire healthy sons and add much to the bloodline of the Durin's. After all, her great grandfather was none other than Lord Nár. May I present Lass Lióni." Thorin held his hand out and Dóvad led his daughter into view to the thundering of the crowd and she placed a delicate hand in Thorin's large warm one.

Thorin pulled her to his side and released her hand, only to wrap a strong arm around her shoulders and pull her against his side. He grinned at the crowd. "Meet your future queen," he roared and feet stomped over the cries of delight and deafening applause. All quieted again when Thorin raised his free hand. "We have guests outside our gates. The official courtship won't begin until business is concluded."

Boos replaced cheers and calls of walk with her now could be heard filtering through clapping and whistling.

Galadriel smiled her approval at events and met the amused eyes of Gandalf. He stood on the balcony with the dwarves, overseeing events. She turned her attention back to the prince.

"Erebor is of old," Thorin continued. "We are back to full complement and the next order of business;" he paused for effect, "is Dwalin, Lötun and Dáin Ironfoot will conduct trials and challenges to fill all positions of the elite guard."

Thráin rose and hurried to the balcony so the crowd could see him and they cheered when he stepped to Thorin and Lióni's side and raised his hand for silence.

"As ye can see, my son made ah wonderful choice. I want everyone ta know that I approve of the match. Now, I'll get back ta doing whatever it is kings do." He hugged both Thorin and Lióni swiftly and retreated to the laughter of the crowd at his whimsical statement. He settled himself once again behind his desk and reached for the book he hastily tossed on the papers waiting his attention.

Again this proclamation from the king was almost met with as much enthusiasm as Lióni's introduction. Lióni realized the dwarves didn't seem to despise her and the Blacklock blood she carried and relaxed slightly. Thorin felt the shift under his arm and smiled down at her. To the crowd, it appeared as if they were well on their way to becoming a loving couple.

Thorin leaned over and whispered in her ear, "Smile for the crowd, my future queen."

Her face flushed beet red and the crowd loved every moment and the talk for the rest of the day was whatever their prince could have said to make her appear as a blushing bride.

Lióni just as endearingly whispered back for his ears alone. "May whoever thought up this silly ritual of parading a scared to death lass in front of the entire mountain, burn in Mandos' hell."

Thorin threw back his head and laughed and gave in to an unbidden impulse; he later had no idea the origin. The crowd roared so loudly, it rang clearly inside the elven tents and Thráin's office, when Thorin took her face in his strong hands so she couldn't pull away and lowered his lips to hers.

Stunned and excited, Lióni forgot to move, and for a moment surrendered to his masculine mouth. The soft stubble of his whiskers burned and poked her skin and his lips commanded from hers a respond of a woman and she found herself returning willingly and almost moaned when he withdrew.

In his office, Thráin grinned. He knew Thorin kissed the lass for all to see by the howls of, "Kiss her again," blasting into the room. "Even I didn't kiss Lis on the balcony," he muttered. "An they haven't even had ah proper courtship walk. I sincerely pray Dóvad doesn't challenge me ta some ill-conceived slight or impropriety on the part of my son."

"Talking to yerself?"

Thráin looked up from his book to see who dared enter his open door unannounced. "Garad, Fárin, come in, now that yer already inside." He set the book down. "I'm ta join the kids for lunch in ah few minutes. What is on yer mind?" He asked politely, although had a fair idea the topic.

On the balcony, Thorin addressed the crowd for the final time. "I'm sure everyone will get a chance to witness more of where that came from when we start officially courting. Now, go and enjoy the rest of your day." He hurried Lióni out of sight and dropped his arm that had found its way around her shoulder again. He looked expectantly at his lords. "That went well. What's next?"

"Right now, you and the future bride's family will lunch with the king and get his personal blessing. Then you have a meeting with your general's until at such time you must get ready for tonight." Balin succinctly provided details. "Now, I suggest we get out of sight; for the crowd is still milling about, hoping for another display." Balin surreptitiously motioned to Thorin who quickly turned and offered his arm to Lióni.

"We are disappointed in ye, Thráin," his uncle, Fárin, griped as the two older lords found chairs nearby.

"I am officially giving my blessing an by order of the king for them to court an wed," Thráin replied. "I'm not changing any of the choices, so don't waste my time."

Fárin cringed. "I was ganged up on by the dams of the White Mountains. They are quite incensed that lass Arli didn't get ah higher ranking lord or ah Durin."

"I'm here because Gerti is too blasted happy with her choice," Garad said. "The dams an her are already talking wedding details an I needed air."

"I'm sure Bofur isn't happy either," Thráin commiserated with Fárin. "I don't like that matchup. Bofur is ah fine lad an hero. He deserves ah wife that will love him an that Arli lass won't be happy with ah commoner made lord."

"An Thorin is definitely out?" Fárin pushed softly, not wanting to anger the king.

"Yes," Thráin enforced sternly. "Kili is the only other option, if the lass is willing ta become ah lady-in-waiting for at least fifty years."

"If it were up ta me, I'd accept," Fárin agreed. "She is on the spoiled side an needs lessons in humility."

Thráin gave it thought. "I can order the lass into that role, but cannot promise ah royal wedding for her. How about we keep yer youngest, Dárin, at Erebor as ah lord in my realm. If the lass is smitten with him, I'd rather see them wed than make Bofur miserable."

Fárin looked relieved and sad at once. "My boy is ah good lad an will serve ye well."

A knock sounded against the door jam and Thorin stood in the doorway. "Already undermining my choices?" he joked.

"Just trying ta find ah better lass for Bofur." Thráin stood, as did the lords, meeting clearly over.

A heavy knock resounded throughout the family chambers that used to be Lord Nár's. Mif, Risári's personal attendant, answered and dropped into a deep curtsey. "M'lord, welcome to this home."

Thorin motioned her to rise when he stepped past into a chamber he hadn't seen yet. It still looked the same and brought back memories of time spent with here with Nár's family and remembered them being dwarfling sitters when all the older Durin's were off together.

Dóvad quickly rose. "Thorin, can I get ye an ale?" He was holding his own brew. At Thorin's shake of head, he motioned for him to sit. "The ladies will be out in ah moment." He looked at Mif, "Tell them Thorin is here."

Finally alone for the first time, Thorin asked, "Do you have any issues with me wedding your daughter?"

The question stunned Dóvad. "No, Thorin. I knew from the moment ye were bringing her here she stood ah fair chance of being selected. I think ye may be the only dwarf who can make her happy. She's been ah chore for her mother an me. I tried three times ta wed her off, an she refused all of them. It's ah good sign she hasn't turned ye down."

"I'm not much younger than you," Thorin reminded him. "And I'm only five years younger than your wife." He looked around. "Did you know, she used to help take care of me when I was a small dwarfling?"

Dóvad shook his head. "No, Lári rarely spoke of life in the mountain. She was resigned ta living her life far from here. I couldn't do anything ta alleviate her sadness, but I did try an be the best husband I could."

"I guess that's all I can do for Lióni," Thorin admitted in a low voice. "I know I'm not much of a prize at my age. I would gladly abdicate an heir in favor of Fili, but Father wants the line to go through me. In fact, if not for Azanulbizar, I would be married for at least fifty years now. Father was in the process of selecting a wife for me when Grandfather returned with Nár and a wild scheme to retake Moria. Of course, after the war and I was king, all that changed. I didn't seek a wife."

"I've heard aphorisms since coming here, whether from elves or men, I know not. It goes something like hand of providence or God's will."

Thorin nodded. "I've worked in the smithies of both elves and men and anytime something outside of normal, it is said by elves to be the will of the Valar and of men the hand of God. Me marrying Lióni is definitely in that category. Circumstances had to be just right and we dwarves use Aulë's will to describe it."

A movement out of the corner of his eye had him standing, along with Dóvad. The three ladies entered from a hall. They carefully attended to appearance for their first outing with the king and prince, and Risári was delighted the extra effort they spent on Lióni's gown and hair was noticed. Thorin barely glanced in their direction before staring at her. She was wearing an ice blue gown that complemented her eyes. Lavish jewelry owned by Risári from her days as a high ranking dam, blended perfectly with the gown. A necklace of white diamonds, mixed with ice blue apatite gems adorned her neck above the scoop neckline. A diadem of like design held light brown locks off her face. Drop earrings and bracelets of solid ice blue apatite gems finished her jewelry and a heavy silver belt with long tail, studded with like gems was around her waist. In her hand was a beard studded with like gems. Her mother and grandmother advised her to wait to adorn it so Thorin could get a good look at her beautiful features.

Unbeknownst to Thorin, Dis inquired about Lióni's gown and dressed him to match. He was wearing a royal blue tunic with black diadem forged with the design of ravens. His arm guards and pants were black, and he was wearing his heavy Mithril belt with the large Durin crest buckle. Also, strapped to his side was Orcrist.

Thorin desired to taste her lips again and hoped it was soon. He saw they had been reddened with makeup, as had her eyes and cheeks. He decided she could give Dis a run for her money in beauty. He remembered advice from Dis. "You look beautiful, Lióni."

Lióni blushed and took the offered arm. "Thank you, Thorin. I would much rather be dressed as you with my sword at hand if we are to be among so many elves."

In the background, Lióni heard her father groan and cuss.

Erestor and Gandalf waited before the open doors of Erebor and conversed quietly between themselves of their day. "Dis and I invited ourselves to lunch with the king and his guests," Gandalf conversationally told him.

"Glorfindel and I escorted our ladies back to the center of elven security after their shopping spree." Erestor added his part. "The guards carried numerous packages for them."

Dwarves returning to the mountain for the evening gave them a wide berth. Sun was still casting warmth on the land this far north providing a perfect evening to entertain dwarves and leaders of Dale. Elrond and Galadriel were quietly keeping flying insects away.

Thráin was first to join Erestor and Gandalf, arriving with Dwalin as his Durin guard. "I'm relieved ta be getting negotiations back on track. The elves have been most patient with dwarves."

"We are enjoying our time before your gates and using your bathing pools daily is pure bliss," Erestor reassured him. "Besides, the orcs are on this side of the mountain and Elrond can keep an eye on his sons daily. It is hard on him when they are gone up to two years at a time hunting orcs and goblins."

Thráin nodded soberly. He came to like the twins and the care they took in protecting his grandsons.

A large group approached. The three broke off their idle conversation when Thorin, with Lióni on his arm, led those invited to the large entrance doors.

"See, it isn't hard at all, being polite that is." Thráin smirked at his son.

"Now that I have someone to shower attention on, I agree," Thorin replied in his deep tone and smiled down upon Lióni.

Erestor and Gandalf led the entourage from the mountain and the dwarves noticed many elven guards lined the way between the gates and sea of elven tents; and the area between the mountain and Dale was covered in a sea of white, flags rising often denoting which realm occupied an area. "I assured our lords nothing would befall our guests and took liberties of procuring guards against all possibilities," Erestor explained to Thráin, who walked between him and Gandalf.

"A generous gesture, Lord Erestor," Gandalf heartily approved.

Directly behind the leaders, Lióni was in awe and her hand tightened on Thorin's arm. She had seen the tent city from a balcony, but felt diminutive among the tall elves. They were everyplace; most carrying a weapon such as spear or sword, while a few carried bows. Music grew louder the further into the sea of white canvas they trod. Thorin marched beside her, head held high. It reminded her of the songs about proud Durin kings.

They stepped into a clearing where a great fire roared and pine logs had been dragged from Mirkwood, imparting a strong pine scent from sap and cracking and popping of green wood. Tables and chairs were placed in a grassy flat area.

Tall elves stood in a line and Gandalf veered to them.

"Welcome, King Thráin," Lord Círdan greeted in a strong, clear tongue of the dwarves.

"I am honored to be here," Thráin replied in like language and then switched to Westron. "In deference to King Bard and his children, I suggest Westron be spoken by all."

Elven royalty bowed their heads once in acceptance.

Galadriel looked into dwarven minds. "Prince Thorin, you have something of interest to me."

Before Thorin could reply, Thráin turned around and motioned all dwarves back. Thorin and Lióni stood apart, with her family just behind. "Allow me to introduce Erebor's future princess and queen, Lass Lióni of Jötunheim," Thráin performed introductions and the dams issued a general curtsey, while Dóvad bowed. "And these are her parents, Lord Dóvad, his wife, Dam Lári and Lári's mother, Dam Risári, Lord Kár's widow."

Círdan congratulated them on being the chosen family to join with Durin's while Galadriel spoke into Thorin's mind. 'You brought it!'

Thorin met her gaze and bobbed his head in the affirmative once. He mentally projected, 'After supper.'

By her slight smile, he knew she read the thought and added after Círdan's salutation, "You chose well, Thorin Oakenshield. Lióni will keep you young at heart and challenge you in ways no other lass dares. Never forget she is your equal and soulmate; as Celeborn is mine. Don't wait long to wed. Winters in the far north are much more pleasant with a bed to share." She smiled broadly. "And I don't plan on leaving Erebor until attending your wedding."

Dwarves laughed and elves scowled.

"Allow me to select those I wish to converse with at my table," Círdan said. "Tonight, all elves of rank are required to select dwarves, so our tables are mixed. He looked at the humans. "You don't have to select a dwarf if you don't wish to, but can enjoy each other's company." He motioned to Thráin. "King Thráin, please join me." He smiled widely and asked Lord Fárin, Dwalin, Dis and Balin and his family to his table also.

Galadriel spoke next. "Prince Thorin, please bring your soon to be in-laws to my table."

Celeborn didn't say a word, but quickly took his wife's hand and led her away.

Elrond grinned in delight. "I want to dine with the Ri's and Bifur, Bofur and Bombur and their families."

They were a little surprised one as high ranking as Elrond would chose them. Dori poked Bofur, "He is going to get even with you for causing a food fight."

Elrond's grin widened when Bofur whispered a reply and failed to keep it quiet enough so his host couldn't hear, "No promises if I'm fed green food again."

Thranduil cursed his bad luck to not have a living wife. "Lord Dáin, bring your family to my table." He looked at Legolas. "You are invited also."

Legolas glared at everyone and snarled mentally, 'I don't dine with dwarven scum.'

A hand descended on his shoulder and he looked into the blue eyes of Lord Glorfindel. "You will join my table and sit with my guests." He spoke in a louder tone, "Lord's Óin and Glóin, please bring your family and be my guests."

Legolas tried to pull away and felt fingers tighten.

'It wouldn't look good for you to be chastised like the elfling you are pen neth.'

Legolas sat at the far end and scowled at the dwarven youth who took his right hand spot and they glared at one another.

"I don't want to be at this table either," the youth muttered under his breath. "My friends are over there." He pointed to where Fili and Kili were seated with Lord Erestor, along with Elladan and Elrohir. "Or I could sit with the table of men." With that idea, he spoke louder. "Father, can I leave this table for another?"

"Ye weren't invited ta sit at another table," Glóin growled at him. He turned to Glorfindel. "Forgive my son's bad manners. He needs ta learn with title comes unpleasant evenings where he is forces ta act like an adult or be sent ta the nursery."

Gimli's face burned and he heard a laugh from the elf at his left. "Why isn't he forced to sit at his father's table also then?"

"Because at the tender age of eighteen hundred and fifty-six, Legolas is just old enough to choose what table he sits at."

"Good, I'm leaving," Legolas started to rise when Glorfindel continued with a smile, "However, the only table remaining is of men and I'm sure the children would love your company."

Legolas looked from the dwarves to men. He stood and they watched him relocate to sit between Sigrid and Bain.

"Just as well that prissy elf left," Glóin grumbled.

"Glóin, be nice," Gillett, his wife, admonished.

"He wasn't nice when he threw us in his father's dungeon," Glóin retorted.

"Tell us what befell you after leaving Rivendell," Glorfindel inquired and soon fine wine flowed before the meal was served. He let Glóin entertain them and saw the son's attention riveted, as was his intent.

To the dwarves relief and delight, the meal consisted of five varieties of meat and fish, plus chips.

Thranduil and Dáin looked at each other and the king let his eyes slide to a noticeably pregnant dam. "Lady Azie, you have my condolences for carrying another Dáin for a year."

"Oh, dwarves only gestate for ten months," Azie replied. She patted her round stomach. "Little Dáin will be along in five months."

"So what name do I put on the baby gift," Thranduil japed while Dáin rolled his eyes.

Azie wasn't sure if she should tell and was saved replying.

"Look, Thranduil, my kid's name is not ta be disclosed until I hold the baby up an announce it ta all of Erebor," Dáin snarled.

Thranduil took a liberal gulp of wine and smiled. "Just wanted to put a small wager in the betting pool of Erebor."

"I wager I killed more orcs than ye did at the last battle," Dáin groused in a half jest.

"Do you have numbers?" Thranduil asked with interest.

"Aye, an ye?"

Thranduil motioned and Demythel appeared at his shoulder. "Bring a soldier who was with me during our little skirmish outside Long Lake." He looked expectantly at Dáin.

"I told young Thorin," Dáin stated.

Thranduil smiled. "And the wager? Say the name of your child, both genders against," he thought, "against a hundred pounds of recovered loot from Lake-town."

"I heard ye were diving an bringing up great wealth," Dáin said. He looked at Azie and she shook her head.

"No, Dáin. We don't need a hundred pounds of worthless junk," Azie complained.

"It would be gold coin and gems," Thranduil clarified.

"Agreed," Dáin accepted and felt Azie's slap against his arm.

Soon an elf in armor stood at the table and bowed. "You wished to see me, King Thranduil?"

"On a paper, write down how many orcs I slew when rescuing the motley band of dwarves coming from west of the Misty Mountains."

"Thorin, write on the provided paper my kill numbers an don't lie," Dáin ordered. "Ye know the stories of what happens ta warriors who lie."

Thorin Stonehelm nodded and took the offered paper and pen. Hiding his hand, he wrote a number, as did the elf. Thorin folded the paper and handed it to his father. The elf handed his to the king, who looked at the number and nodded.

At the same time, they laid their papers down face up. Everyone who knew what was happening leaned over to look at the numbers. They were equal.

Azie laughed and Thorin Stonehelm groaned. "Honesty didn't get ye ah hundred pounds of coin, Father!" he grumbled.

"Nay, son, but honesty is all we take ta Mandos' Halls with us."

Tensions waned and soon Thranduil and Dáin were exchanging stories of their parts in getting the caravan to the mountain, followed by discussing the merits of riding a boar versus elk for fighting. Thorin Stonehelm hung on every word while he ate.

Celeborn remained quiet and let Arwen and Galadriel dictate conversation and soon learned more than he cared to know about the dwarves from Jötunheim.

Conversation flowed cordially until Lióni spotted Gerti at a table with her uncle, Lord Garad. A jolt of jealously pierced her heart and she patted Thorin's sleeve to get his attention. When he looked at her, she pointed to Gerti. "I see she is also here. Just what is your relationship with her?" She was sure he was having a forbidden dalliance with the other lass and knew they were acquainted in the Blue Mountains and the other looked to be well past the age most lasses were wed. The fact Gerti was the only other lass in contention for Thorin here tonight wasn't lost on her. She had quickly scoured all tables to see if other lasses were in attendance and only Gerti sat at a table.

Thorin looked to where Gerti and Garad sat at Lord Taíban's table. "I assume the dams of Lord Garad are having a good time and she is a close friend of mine."

"You gave gifts to all the lasses you walked with?" She pierced him with fire in her blue eyes.

"Dinner with elves is not an appropriate place for this conversation." Thorin roughly shut her down and turned away.

Celeborn perked up when the private conversation began and warned Galadriel and Arwen to let it play out. He found himself disappointed it ended so soon. "No, please tell us, Prince Thorin; did you ply all those lasses with gifts for your favors?"

Galadriel wanted to smack him. 'Are you trying to break them up on their first night together?' she screamed in his mind, not caring to keep it a silent conversation and saw Thranduil look in their direction with a wide grin.

'If I can, then they aren't meant for each other and I'll be doing them a favor.' Celeborn caustically replied.

Before Galadriel had a chance to deflect Thorin's brusque reply to the lass, the prince spun back to Lióni, so she was forced to listen and also to the irritating chuckle in her mind from her husband.

Thorin's eyes hardened and he looked at his intended. "If you must know, and it's none of your business, but yes, I gave Gerti a gift. She has been a good friend to me and I hope will be to you, but I'm seeing a side of you I don't care for. Am I going to be forced to explain every female I've ever spoken with to you?" As he spoke, his tone rose until nearby tables grew silent.

"I don't know of one dwarrow that gives gifts without expecting a special favor in return. It's not our way," she spat back, as loudly as him.

"Keep your voice down," Thorin ground between clinched teeth. "I don't know how you came to know I also bought her a gift, and yes, she was the only one outside of you." His eyes held great anger and he wondered if he chose wisely. Maybe Gerti would have been a better choice, flickered through his thoughts.

Lióni's parents looked uncomfortable and Lári sought to smooth things over. "Lióni, I think a future husband that is kind enough to do something special for one who helped him, is a sign of a good husband."

"I agree," Galadriel quickly added before Celeborn spoke in her mind again. She looked at Thorin. "If I saw my intended giving a gift to another lass; I would have been devastated and he would have much explaining to do, and Lióni, you have gotten off light in the arena of heart breaks." She smiled at Celeborn and he knew what was coming and schooled his featured into a bland mask. "Celeborn asked me to wed him and then dumped me for another."

As was her intent, Lióni and Thorin's tiff seemed to be forgotten when all at the table looked in shock at her; the ladies with outraged scorn and dwarrow interest.

"Why are you with him then?" Lióni asked and pointed a finger at Celeborn. "If Thorin dumps me for another, I will never take him back."

Thorin absorbed her statement and they locked gazes in a battle of wills.

"Don't even think about it," Lióni warned. "I'll take Father's Warhammer to your hide before leaving the mountain forever."

"Daernaneth, you told me the story of how Daeradar dumped you and I'm still horrified he would do such a callow thing," Arwen spoke and looked accusingly at him. "My heart should be irreparably damaged should it happen to me. Did you ever show Daeradar what he did to you?"

"No," Galadriel swiftly replied without looking to her left. "And he has never shown me his private moments with Lárraki." She looked at the dwarves sitting at her table. "Elves can see into each other's minds if bonded through marriage, but can withhold certain events that might hurt the other." The conversation wasn't going to her liking, but at least the dwarves so far hadn't thrown their food at the elves or each other.

"I have to ask," Risári got everyone's attention, but she was looking at Galadriel, "how did you ever recover?"

Galadriel smiled at the memories and felt Celeborn entering her mind to share. "I was ordered to let him make up by the Maia queen, Melian. Personally, I would have made him suffer for the length of time he jilted me." She finally braved a smile and glance to her left.

"Eighty years was far longer than I left you," Celeborn protested audibly, looking into her amused blue eyes. He took a small amount of blame for pushing the topic that led to this moment.

Galadriel rested her fingers on his. "And our wedding anniversary is in a few days."

"How many years?" Risári asked.

Celeborn replied, "Over five thousand."

"You don't remember how many, do you?" Galadriel challenged for effect, but knew he did.

"In four days we will be married for five thousand, five hundred and thirty one glorious years," Celeborn smugly revised his answer.

"And I better get a gift," Galadriel replied and everyone at the table laughed.

"See lad," Dóvad cautioned Thorin, "even elves can't forget that day. Make it one ye can remember."

Galadriel was relieved disaster was averted.