Chapter 18
For King and Country
Walking went a bit more smoothly since Óin had discharged himself from the healers' care to do some healing himself. Most other healers were too much in awe of Thorin to tell him what he should do – and Thorin had heeded their advice only until they were out of his sight before he found he had more important things to do than sitting still – but Óin had no such reservations. He had summoned a chair for his king and ordered him to sit in it. If folk wanted to talk to him, they could come to him and tell him what was amiss instead of having Thorin traipsing all over the Mountain to come to them. And if his king was still of a mind to go walkabout, he wouldn't feel opposed to tying him up, a notion that had been silently approved of by both Dwalin and Kate. One of the first times that they agreed on something and it had to be that he should not be allowed to walk.
The Journal, Chapter 95: Signed and Sealed
Kate
'No.'
It startles Kate a bit that she has spoken that word simultaneously with both Óin and Dwalin. The first is expected, the second not so much. For Dwalin to refuse his king anything, anything at all, is rare. In fact, it's so rare that Kate cannot for the life of her recall if she has seen it at all. Not that she isn't grateful for an ally in this, but it is undoubtedly unexpected.
Thorin seems just as surprised by this turn of events as she is. 'Not you too, Dwalin?' To Kate it sounds remarkably like Et tu, Brute? Of course, Thorin is hardly going to be assassinated in the foreseeable future, but one won't know it to look at his face.
'Don't want to do any arresting today,' Dwalin remarks. He almost looks amused, but Kate does not know him well enough to be certain. 'Tying up one's king is an offence, isn't it?'
She's in for a lot of surprises today, it seems, because the "question" is aimed in her direction. 'I believe so.' Not knowing what else to do, she plays along. 'Best not let it come to that.'
As matters stand, there's every chance that Óin conveniently forgets that Thorin is his king and ties him to the chair he's sitting on. Thorin is being stubborn – what's new? – and insisting he will be going down to some meeting with a number of Iron Hills dwarves. After all, he's not an idle mannish king. No one in their senses would ever mistake him for one, but that's beside the point. The point is that he needs to give his leg some rest if he ever wants it to heal properly.
Of course, cooperating is not on the agenda.
'I've a meeting to attend,' Thorin objects. He hasn't quite broken out the deadly glare, the one he uses when he believes someone is hindering him in doing his duty, but he is getting there and Kate has no intention to find herself on the receiving end of it.
She understands, of course she does. If their places had been reversed, she'd have been kicking up a fuss as well. The sitting still must be driving Thorin up the wall, especially since Óin has started enforcing the sitting down regime in earnest four days ago. But would it honestly kill him if his own health didn't end up all the way at the very bottom of his list of priorities for a change?
She thinks she has identified the cause of the behaviour, but she cannot be sure. She certainly can't walk up to him and just ask. But it does not take a genius to see that Thorin has self-esteem issues, serious self-esteem issues. Kíli's death has not helped matters, nor has the loss of Ori's hand. So to make up for all his perceived "faults" he will go on until he literally drops.
And Kate is not going to sit back and twiddle her thumbs whilst her very-soon-to-be husband effectively ruins his own recovery. Thank the heavens for Óin and his drastic measures.
'You've got a queen,' Dwalin points out sensibly. Not that it doesn't surprise her. She is quite convinced Dwalin does not actually like her. He merely puts up with her for Thorin's sake.
But she jumps at the chance. 'I can handle it,' she says. 'And if they still want to talk to you, I'll gladly point them in the right direction.' That compromise ought to satisfy him.
From the looks of things, Thorin doesn't like it one bit. He hasn't said it, but Kate knows how to read between lines. He's afraid his people will make mincemeat of her and he really should know better by now. She's survived Thranduil and Erland. It doesn't get much worse than that.
Dwalin of course has known Thorin for far longer than she and in the process has clearly developed some mind-reading skills. 'Queens need guards, don't they?'
'I suppose so,' Kate replies. She's glad he's her ally in this and she knows he won't let any harm come to her – not that she is afraid of any physical harm, because dwarves are more honourable than that – but she is not at ease with his company. His disapproval is something she has felt right from the start and it hasn't gone away since. It sets her teeth on edge and makes the hairs at the back of her neck tingle.
'See there, no reason to leave that chair.' Dwalin looks incredibly smug. Thorin on the other hand looks incredibly displeased, but it's the kind of displeasure that shows when he has been outwitted. They've done it, but Kate can't feel any victory. She loves this dwarf; it gets easier to admit the more she repeats the sentence in her head and the idea takes root in her mind. And it shouldn't be necessary to trick a loved one, even if it is for their own good. She just wishes they could be done with the fighting forever; she's had enough of it to last her a lifetime.
Of course, such luck won't be granted to her. And she ought to know better than to expect smooth sailing from now on. Life and love are never that easy. They're worth fighting for, though, which is the only reason why she hasn't started screaming in frustration yet.
'Right you are,' she says, because Dwalin's plan is sound enough. She'll be handling the diplomatic side of things and Dwalin will be watching her back to calm Thorin's frayed nerves. It would be the ideal solution if she didn't feel Thorin's betrayed look so keenly. Bloody hell, she wanted to be done with this!
Dwalin isn't quite finished. 'And there won't be anyone to stop Óin when we're gone, I reckon.'
Kate almost laughs at that, because really, Dwalin is far cleverer than anyone ever gives him credit for and there are so few people to know and appreciate it. It's because he's the quiet type. He's known for his strength and skill in battle. Rightly so of course, but there's a lot more to Dwalin than that and Kate feels she's only just begun scratching the surface.
They leave Thorin to ponder that as they go to handle the meeting. It's one of those dragon removal meetings – and who would ever have thought they would have a name for the destruction of Smaug's stinking corpse? – and Kate hates them, if only because no one has any idea how to go about it, but everyone pretends to be an expert on the matter. Still, it has to be done and she could oversee them as well as Thorin. It's not as if some sensible solution is going to magically drop out of the air if Thorin is there.
Nope, we'd be needing a wizard for that. And Gandalf has been hanging around the men and elves lately. He won't leave until after the wedding, when he'll be taking Bilbo home, but he's not welcome in Erebor either. Of course, they'd put him up if the need should arise, but Kate doesn't like him, not after what he's done to her and if she never sees his face again after he leaves she won't be sad about it.
'Thanks for the save back there,' she tells Dwalin when the silence between them becomes too uncomfortable to bear. They haven't got much to say to each other, they never have, but Kate has realised that Dwalin is about the closest thing Thorin has to a brother, so she'd better resign herself to seeing quite a lot of him.
'Aye, Thorin gets like that.' Dwalin is not a dwarf of many words, which is a big part of all the awkwardness Kate experiences when she's around him. That, and she always kind of feels as if she's said the wrong thing when she replies.
Which is why her own words take her by surprise. 'I wish he wouldn't look so betrayed. We are doing it for him, after all.' Of course, receiving gifts comes about as natural to Thorin as flying does to a fish. Kate knows this, but looking at her like she's stabbed him in the back isn't helping matters. And they've already gone so wrong once and this whole relationship still feels so fragile, as if the smallest issue can destroy it beyond repair. At least to herself she can admit that she's dead scared of it all blowing up in her face.
Dwalin doesn't seem worried or indeed surprised that she's spoken what's on her mind. 'He'll see sense in a bit.' If this wasn't Dwalin, Kate would have said he's trying to reassure her. But that's nonsense; Dwalin doesn't do reassuring, least of all when she's around.
'I hope so.' It's not as if she knows what else to say. All her skills at conversation vanish into thin air. Dwalin just has that effect on her.
'He will,' Dwalin insists. 'He might even smile when he hears Blackbeard's latest scheme.' She falls from one surprise straight into the next today. Now he's using her nickname for Walin as if it's the dwarf lord's given name? It was enough of a shock to hear Thorin do it.
'You know something I don't?' she asks.
True enough, Dwalin smirks. 'I might at that.'
Is he joking with her? Has the world come to a sudden end? 'Will I laugh?' She might as well roll with it. Who knows how long it'll last?
'Nah,' he says. 'You'll try to hide all your laughter and eye rolls and I'll be very entertained.' Yes, he is definitely bantering with her. This is new. But Kate really kind of likes it and she doesn't want it to stop.
'Oh, I see how it is,' she nods. 'Having a laugh at my expense, are you?'
Dwalin doesn't miss a beat. 'At Walin. He'll be the one looking like a fool.'
Kate snorts. 'You'd think he'd be used to that, seeing as he's hardly anything else.' Of course, Walin is nothing short of a bastard as a default setting. And Kate could do with a laugh. They have been in short supply for the last… well, year, possibly.
And maybe Dwalin ought to have taken up a second job as psychic, because true to his prediction, Walin is all for setting fire to the dragon corpse. The notion has Kate's eyebrows up at her hairline and she finds herself struggling to keep a straight face. He can't really think that a fire drake would catch fire, right? If she had any doubts about his sanity before this meeting, she certainly has them now.
It's at this point that she meets Dwalin's gaze across the table and he's having a look on his face that she can only translate as I told you so. Also there's an underlying message that tells her clear as day that he for one is having a grand time and that the laugh he's trying to keep in is not at her expense. It more feels as if he's sharing the joke with her.
It's making her feel suddenly far more optimistic about the future.
Dwalin
The lass is awkward at times, Dwalin observes. She's still watching her moves, not so much around the now former company and the few friends she's made this past year, but certainly around just about every other dwarf she encounters. Unless of course irritation wins out. Kate is quite the formidable force when properly riled, Dwalin knows from experience, but she feels ill at ease under the Mountain and she is even more uncomfortable with her role as Queen under the Mountain. Folk like Walin, who'll talk an awful lot and don't do a bit of decent thinking before they open their mouths don't help.
And it does not help that Thorin has caught wind of it lately. It puts Dwalin's oldest friend in a right foul mood, a violent mood to be sure. Dwalin has made sure to direct him to the training grounds for sparring a lot and he is sure that Kate has been encouraging it too. For a lass who can put such a lack of tact on display, she can be remarkably subtle if she puts her mind to it.
Of course, there are days when Thorin's frustrations boil over nonetheless and no amount of sparring or taking out his frustration on steel in the forges will put his mind to rest. He's had bouts of this before, way back in the Ered Luin. They worried Dwalin then and they do not worry him any less now. He knows that Balin has been watching and fretting as well. And Dwalin does not like the direction his brother's thoughts are taking.
Balin has always been a little too interested in history and patterns that he is forever claiming are doomed to repeat themselves. The pattern he is thinking about in this particular case is the madness some folk say runs in Durin's line, in particular Thrór and his descendants. Dwalin knows it for the utter nonsense that it is, but he also knows that there are those who do not share this opinion. Of course, those others are fools. Thorin has never been mad and one only has to look at Fíli to know he is as sane as could be. And he has personally rearranged the face of the unfortunate dwarf who whispered a little too loudly about little Thoren's destiny to end up like a raging lunatic. If even babes are not safe from such malicious gossip, Dwalin isn't sure how much faith he still has in those who he's supposed to call his own people.
That said, he can clearly see that Thorin's moods run dark of late. Mahal only knows what goes on in that thick skull of his when he gets like that. Of course Dwalin can hazard a relatively educated guess. There will be a lot of self-flagellation involved – about putting Kate through such pain, about not being able to predict when someone is going to say something they ought to be ashamed of saying and silencing them before they do – and when his thoughts turn that way, he retreats into himself. And Dwalin knows of only one soul who's been able to drag him back from that so far.
So, aye, he'll admit that he is not Kate's greatest admirer and he isn't fond of her mannerisms and her presence, but she's good for Thorin. He remembers that when Erebor was under siege she was eventually the one who ensured Thorin never succumbed to the fate the wretched book had planned for him. Gandalf may have known what he was about when he took her from her own world. And for this simple fact Dwalin feels he owes her. And so he is friendly and accommodating and quite willing to shut up the stupid dwarves under the Mountain who feel it is their right and their duty to ventilate their opinions that a mannish lass has no business being in Erebor, never mind ruling over them.
It's something else to ask for her aid. And in his heart he is convinced that Kate already knows what is going on – the lass is intuitive if nothing else – which is why Thorin never is where he is supposed to be: in his own rooms. Balin calls it being blind to reason, running away like that. It might be at that, for Thorin has been avoiding Balin as well. He tolerates Dwalin's presence only as long as he keeps his mouth shut.
There's sense in such a course of action. Either way, Dwalin knows that his words won't sway his king. He'll be needing someone else for that.
So it is to the royal chambers that his feet carry him. There's a guard in front of the door that Dwalin doesn't know, but it's a youngling, freshly arrived from the Iron Hills if he has to hazard a guess.
'Is the Queen in?' he asks when the guard makes no move to step aside or even to acknowledge Dwalin's presence.
'She is,' the guard says, clearly only now remembering there is a certain protocol he ought to follow. 'State your name and intent.'
'Dwalin, son of Fundin. My business with the Queen is none of yours,' he replies brusquely.
He'll not let it slip to this barely bearded fool that he wishes to discuss the mental health of the King under the Mountain. Quite honestly it is beyond him what this one is even doing here. He looks like he still belongs in the barracks, training. He shouldn't be given such a responsible task as this. He certainly shouldn't be as bored doing it as he clearly is. If Thorin were ever here, he would have recognised this fact as well and have the would-be guard dismissed quick as blinking. That this lad is still here is testimony to the fact that Dwalin's friend is not.
'Can't let you in,' the guard says. 'You'll have to state your intent. It's in the rules.'
Dwalin's intent is currently running more along the lines of hauling the lad back to the barracks by the collar of his coat. 'I'm a friend of the family.' It takes him significant will-power not to shout the words. There's only sense in that; the structure is still unstable in some parts of the Mountain and he wouldn't want to actually bring down the roof in his fury. 'She'll receive me.'
'Not without stating your intent, she won't.' Curse these Iron Hills dwarves and their penchant for rules. They are rigid in their ways, the whole sorry lot of them.
Fortunately Kate chooses this moment to step in and save the young guard from his own stupidity and, more importantly, Dwalin's wrath. The door opens and she pokes her head out. 'Dwalin! Thank the Lord. I thought I heard your voice.'
'Aye, that's all you'd have heard if you hadn't opened the door,' he says, taking care to control the urge to throw the would-be guard out of the Mountain regardless of Kate's interference.
He can see she understands the situation and her brow furrows in confusion as she catches sight of the dwarf who's doing a miserable job of guarding the door. 'Ofur? I thought I dismissed you from my service just last week? And then again an hour ago? What in the name of sanity do you think you're still doing here?'
The dwarf draws himself up to his full height, a gesture which lacks meaning, because both Kate and Dwalin are taller than he is. 'It is only for the King under the Mountain to dismiss me. I may guard you, but you do not command me.'
Composure and decency be damned. This time Dwalin does lift the fool off his feet and presses him against the wall. 'She's your Queen, you little shit,' he growls. 'You'll obey her as you'll obey her husband and if she tells you to be gone, you get yourself gone as fast as your feet can carry you.'
Kate snorts. 'And if I tell him to jump, he's supposed to ask how high, right? You might want to lessen the pressure on his throat, Dwalin; he's going blue.'
'Do you want me to put him down?' he asks. He really doesn't feel like it, but he's supposed to be setting an example.
'Did I say that?' she wonders. 'I just want him to be conscious enough to actually understand what's being said to him. And I don't want you arrested for murder either. So, listen up, kid. You're going to run along and fetch someone more competent to do the job, preferably someone who doesn't think it's his right to decide who I see and don't see. And I don't want to see you here again.' She turns to Dwalin. 'Now you can put him down. Unless you've something to add?'
Oh, he's got a great many things to add, but none of those are fit to be uttered in the presence of a lass. 'I'll eventually think of something,' he says, letting Ofur know that this is not over yet. But he puts the lad back on his feet again.
'But someone needs to guard the door.' The choice of words is telling. He thinks it more important to guard a lifeless object than to guard his Queen.
If Kate realises this, she doesn't say. 'Kid, have you seen Dwalin? You think I'll be attacked as long as he is around? Let me tell you a secret, then,' she goes on when Ofur continues to look doubtful. And she does lower her voice as if she is really about to impart a great secret on him. 'Orcs have been known to run in fright at the mere sight of Dwalin, son of Fundin. So don't you go thinking I won't be perfectly safe as long as he's around. Now, shift. Find someone else and for Durin's sake, be quick about it.'
After the terrifying look Dwalin gives him as a parting gift, Ofur clearly thinks it wise to follow that instruction to the letter; he almost trips over his own feet in his haste to make a quick getaway.
'Do come in,' Kate invites.
Dwalin does.
'I'm actually really glad you're here,' Kate says and now that he takes a good look at her he can tell she's in something of a state. Her hair is messy – messier than usual – and she looks exhausted, like she's not getting enough sleep. From the nursery he can hear the baby crying. 'Thoren's been feeling unwell, I think. He keeps on crying, been at it for almost a day now and I don't know what's wrong. I meant to look for Thora or any healer really, but Ofur wouldn't babysit, because that's not part of his duty, and I can't go traipsing all over the Mountain with a crying babe in search of any. And of course that bloody idiot wouldn't leave the door unguarded to go and find a healer in my stead.' She looks like she's at her wit's end. Of course, Ofur hasn't helped matters. In fact, it's probably best Dwalin did not know this five minutes ago, or Kate's warning to lessen the pressure might have come too late.
'Allow me?' he asks, nodding in the general direction of the nursery. He's held infants before and has been told he's fairly good at it.
Kate nods. 'Be my guest.' She rubs her forehead. 'I wish he could tell me what ails him, but unfortunately I really don't speak baby. And becoming a mum hasn't given me any magical baby mind-reading skills either.'
It vexes Dwalin that Thorin isn't here. Kate is inexperienced, but he knows that Thorin is not. He practically raised Fíli and Kíli, so he ought to remember how it's done. Of course it would help if he was actually home once in a while.
Clearly he has voiced this sentiment, because Kate nods miserably. 'I don't know where he is.' And it doesn't matter that he generally doesn't much like her, because she sounds so forlorn that all he wants to do is grab his oldest friend by the shoulders and shake some sense back into him.
'In the baths,' Dwalin replies.
It's where Dwalin has sent him after their round of sparring this morning. They have gone back in use only two months past, even when not all the other seemingly more important parts have been restored, but it's good. Making Erebor habitable again is dirty work after all and Thorin isn't the only one who allows himself the luxury of washing off the dirt and relaxing his muscles in the warm water. It's doing his knee some good too. And because he is the King, he gets to bathe in private, with no one to disturb him. He'll be there for a while.
She rubs circles on her temples. 'He didn't come home last night,' she admits. 'I think he slept in his study.' She bites her lip. 'We fought before he left. Something stupid really. He's been going on and on lately about stuff folk say and how he clearly thinks it's his job to put an end to it. I told him it wasn't and that I can fight my own bloody battles and then he stormed off.'
There are tears in her eyes and it is making Dwalin highly uncomfortable. That she is even sharing this with him is alarming. She is after all still not really his friend. She must be at the end of her rope to even consider sharing this with him.
Of course that explains why the babe has been so upset. He isn't ill; he's just felt his mother's anxiety and responded the only way he knew how. And it is all very easy to remedy. Dwalin isn't a healer, but he knows how the cure can be found.
'I'll look after the babe,' he offers. 'Go to the baths, Kate. Frea is on duty. She knows you're coming. Get Thorin's head out of his arse.' The whole kingdom will be better for it. And being where he is at the moment, Thorin won't be able to storm off in a fit of temper, because that would involve running around naked. Dwalin may or may not have told Frea the King's clothes would not be needed for a while and so would be better folded away until… well, she'd know. He is nowhere near as cunning as Kate or indeed his own brother, but sometimes desperate times call for desperate measures.
Kate is rooted to the spot, unable to speak and so Dwalin uses the opportunity to brush past her and lift the wailing Thoren from his cradle and into his arms. The child looks at him in what appears to be confusion that this is not his mother, but then settles down fairly quickly.
'Why are you doing this?' Kate asks.
'Because you're suited to the job, lass.' It's the most honest answer he can give her. 'Not many other folk are.'
She nods, but he can tell she only half-understands. He has a lingering suspicion she still hasn't quite realised the hold she has over Thorin. For someone so bright most of the time, she can be remarkably dim at others. But she will not ask him to explain himself. Dwalin suspects it's because she finds him at least a little intimidating.
'Very well,' she says. 'If you don't mind babysitting for a bit.'
He doesn't. Thoren is an easy baby for all that he doesn't like sleeping much. He's so exhausted, he'll probably drop off within minutes.
'Go,' he tells her.
'Okay,' Kate says. 'For King and Country, right?'
Dwalin can tell it's an expression that's come over with her from the other world. It's certainly not familiar to him, but he doesn't get to ask, because she's already out the door, leaving him alone with the very young heir to the throne. Of course Thoren doesn't know any of that. He's taken an interest in Dwalin's beard, which he, after a short inspection, promptly grabs and sticks in his mouth. It is a good thing orcs never see these things. His reputation might suffer dearly for it.
But his reputation is one well worth sacrificing if it will get his friend into a better mind-set. It was one thing in the Ered Luin, but quite another here in Erebor. Now there are people looking at him and expecting to see a king in every sense of the word. And such kings can't go brooding over perceived wrongs when it suits them. Thorin is needed and as such, Kate is needed. Folk don't realise that, naturally, but Dwalin knows more than they do.
He ends up on the sofa, little Thoren on his chest, asleep now, but still with his a bit of his beard tucked in his mouth. Dwalin might as well close his eyes for a second. He doesn't like idleness, but it's not as if he's going anywhere.
When he opens his eyes again it's when the door opens to let in Thorin and Kate. Their hair is still damp, a clear sign that they have been in the baths, but they're not as highly strung as they had been just this morning, so Dwalin considers it a day well spent.
'Thank you,' Kate whispers to him as she lets him out. 'Thank you so much.'
He's not quite sure what to make of it.
Kate
It takes Kate a while to even notice the most curious arrangement that she has with Dwalin. True enough, interacting with him has become easier with time, especially since he's clearly decided she's not as useless as he once thought her and Kate in turn has learned to see past that slightly intimidating exterior to find the caring, if a bit brusque dwarf underneath. So conversations with him aren't always as strained and awkward as they were before.
Of course, this doesn't mean she quite understands what it is that they've got going. But she has Thráin, who's only a couple of weeks old and who, like his brother before him, is mostly awake at night and asleep during the day. He has given her plenty of opportunity to sit in the rocking chair, trying to soothe a fussy infant back to sleep. It's a good place to get some thinking done and in the middle of the night there are usually no folk to disturb her. She likes it like that.
And so she thinks that they might actually be heading towards actual friendship. But it didn't start out that way. Goodness, it took him ages to actually tolerate her. It has taken Kate even longer to get over that slight disapproval, justified or not, that she's always felt coming from him. But while they do not actually get on in the traditional sense of the word, they do have a common cause.
Thorin.
Kate will never go as far to say that they manage their king between the two of them. She knows her husband would object terribly against such a term and he'd be right too, because that isn't quite what they are doing. Maybe, she ponders one long night in the rocking chair, maybe they just enable Thorin to lead this kingdom to the best of his abilities.
That's why at times she'll suddenly find her schedule's been cleared, and so will her husband's be, allowing them to actually spend some quality time together just when Thorin is so fed up with the proceedings of court that he's about to explode and do some untold damage to relations with people who should be their friends. And Dwalin will nod at her or even smile and Kate knows who she's got to thank for that unexpected stroke of luck.
At other times it'll be Dwalin and the training grounds he needs and it is Dwalin who finds his schedule mysteriously free of any pressing duties. And all the documents in Thorin's study will simply go and take themselves for a short walk across the hallway and into Kate's own study. It's extra work for her and she loathes paperwork almost more than she loathes a surprise visit from Thranduil, but it's worth it. And it allows Thorin to spend some time with one of his closest friends. That Dwalin benefits from these times as well is just an added bonus, but she never actually does something for him.
Until today.
'Absolutely not.'
This is clearly not the reply the dwarf opposite her has anticipated. He's looking at her, fury marring his features for just a second before he has them back under his control. Well, turnabout is only fair play; Kate is sure she didn't have her face under control when he made his outlandish request.
'And why not?' he demands.
That he even needs to ask is making it hard for her not to forget that she is a queen and settle this in a satisfactory manner: by punching him in the face. 'Because Dwalin is a high-ranking member of the royal guard. He is not going to guard your mules, no matter what they are carrying.'
Ivar is doing an impressive imitation of an angry bull. He certainly has the face for it, including, but not limited to, the nose ring. 'He's had no problem with it before.'
Aforementioned before pre-dates the quest by some years, Kate knows and, judging by the very clear disgust on Dwalin's face, he has not enjoyed his employment in Ivar's service. Not that Kate can find it in herself to blame him; Ivar is by far the most unpleasant dwarf she has encountered to date, and that includes Lord Walin. Thorin shares this opinion, but unfortunately he is in Dale on important business. Of course that is why Ivar is here today; he reckons she is more of a pushover than her husband. Of course, the baby in her arms and the toddler clinging to her skirts won't make her look particular threatening.
'Before he was not in a position to turn down employment.' Kate prays for patience and at the same time desperately wishes she would not be holding Thráin; Ivar is begging for a broken nose and the longer this goes on, the more Kate is inclined to oblige him. 'Now he guards the King under the Mountain and his family. Moreover he is a hero who helped to reclaim these very halls we are currently standing in.' While you were shaking in your boots at the mere thought of a dragon. 'You are not in any position to make demands of him. He owes you nothing.'
'But you command him,' Ivar says as if that settles the matter. 'As soon as you give him the order, he will come.'
As soon as? He's got a bloody nerve. 'I will give no such command.' She knows her voice is rising, but good grief, she can barely believe this is actually happening. 'What do you take me for? Your servant?'
Behind her, Dwalin is making a sound deep in his throat that suggests he is seconds away from tearing the abrasive dwarf lord limb from limb. Hardly surprising, that. Kate has met her fair share of recalcitrant dwarves, but most at least show her some respect, reluctant or not, because she is Thorin's wife and dwarves are generally courteous to females anyway. None had presumed they are allowed to speak to her like this before.
'You have more guards,' Ivar point out, because he just doesn't know when to back off. 'You can spare the one.'
It's a power play, Kate thinks. He wants her to give in. Of course, he would like Dwalin to guard his mules with precious stones – because he can scare away a robber at fifty paces just by casually glancing in their general direction – but that is not what this is really about. He's testing her authority, which means that giving in is not an option. Neither is invoking Thorin's name. She's hidden behind him quite long enough. She has been queen for almost three years now; it's about time she gets some authority in her own right. These dwarves need to get over their bloody stupid prejudices and accept that she is here now and that she is not going anywhere, and the sooner they do, the better it will be.
'I strongly suggest you go and find your guards among your own people instead of trying to steal mine.' She would have crossed her arms if she hadn't been holding her youngest son. 'Dwalin's duty is right here in Erebor.'
Besides, Thorin would go spare to find that she has sent his friend away. Her husband is still uneasy about leaving her alone with his people. He's not entirely wrong in that, because most dwarves are still getting used to her and the idea of her as their queen. She's certainly not well-liked among all the dwarves of Durin's Folk. Things are changing, but not quickly enough for Kate's tastes or Thorin's nerves. The only reason he's felt comfortable going to Dale without her is because he's left Dwalin behind to look out for her.
Ivar is about to speak again, but Kate cuts him off before the first word of protest crosses his lips. 'You might want to think again before you object,' she cautions him. She estimates that Dwalin's well of patience has just about run dry and that he is seconds away from doing Ivar some undefined but doubtlessly irreparable bodily harm. 'It won't change matters. My mind is made up and will not be changed. It would be best for you to take your leave and find your guards elsewhere.'
Ivar isn't quite looking at her. Rather he's looking at a point somewhere behind her left shoulder, where Dwalin is standing. Kate doesn't have to actually turn around to know that he is glaring the dwarf lord into submission. He takes another breath, actually looks like he's going to say something and then, after another look at Dwalin, thinks better of it.
'I will take my leave then,' he says and Kate knows that they both know who won this round. True enough, Dwalin has helped her to win it and it vexes her a little that she needed the threat of violence to get him to comply, because that means she still hasn't done it entirely on her own. And she needs that. She needs to make it clear that she can hold her own and that she doesn't go hiding behind guards or her husband's name. She doesn't want to be that kind of person.
But Ivar is leaving and at least she hasn't given in to his demands, so she'll count it as a victory all the same.
'What a twat,' she says once the door has fallen shut behind him.
Dwalin nods at her. 'Thank you.'
Those words are so unexpected that for a moment she rightly doesn't know what to say. He never thanks her for anything, not in so many words anyway.
So, she doesn't say you're welcome. Instead she settles for: 'My pleasure.' It is, really. Way back in her own world Laura always said that Kate thrives on conflict, that she needs people to shout at to do well. While Kate is quite sure that is not quite an accurate representation of reality, her friend was not entirely wrong either. It feels good to let off steam sometimes and she really can't help it if there are folk around practically lining up for a tongue-lashing, can she? Not her fault at all.
Dwalin nods. It is too much to ask for a smile, but she is getting better at reading him and she thinks that maybe, if he were a smiling sort of person, he would have just now. 'I could tell,' he says. And in that way he is much like Thorin, Kate has found. Like him, Dwalin can be light-hearted when it is least expected and, like it did with Thorin at first, it always takes Kate by surprise.
'Well, Ivar was asking for it.' She shakes her head in disbelief. 'Honestly, what the hell was he thinking, going on like that? What's that obsession with you anyway? Did you piss him off once that he thinks he needs to make your life difficult now or something?'
She knows at once that she is absolutely right. 'Ivar holds a grudge better than most.'
It is still too soon to ask for the tale, Kate feels. It's always tiny steps forward with Dwalin, but Kate at least feels confident that some day he will tell her.
'Well, like I said, my pleasure.' She surely hasn't made a friend today, but she won't have sleepless nights over that one. To be honest, she would be pleased if Ivar took their exchange today as a hint to bugger off to the Iron Hills and bother Dáin with his unreasonable demands. He would not have the patience for such nonsense. Kate hadn't seen him since he had left a couple weeks after the battle, but she remembers him well enough. And the mere idea of Ivar asking the same question of Dáin that he had just asked of her is enough to bring a smile to her face. 'I hope he won't bother you again.'
Dwalin shrugs. 'If he does, I'll know where to find you.' That he says that he'd come to find her and not Thorin is a tiny bit of a surprise, but a pleasant one.
'Just so,' she says and then she takes a leap of faith, hoping she hasn't misread this situation horribly. 'That's what friends are for, after all.'
He doesn't contradict her.
It feels like progress.
Dwalin
If someone had told Dwalin, son of Fundin five years ago that he would strike up a friendship with the mannish lass who got married to his best friend, he would have laughed in their faces. He might have accused them of having consumed far too much wine as well. But here he is, somehow in the early stages of friendship with Kate Andrews, Queen under the Mountain, and the only one laughing is her son Thráin, who's begged for a ride atop Dwalin's shoulders and who's having a grand old time, judging by the excited squeals. He's not quite sure how he's ended up being a babysitter, but he's not quite convinced he hates it as much as he'll claim when asked about it.
The thing is that Kate is busy. There are men from Dale banging on the door about some matter that needs her urgent attention. Both Dwalin, the bearer of the "good" news, and Kate know better than to unleash Thorin on the men. He hasn't got the patience to deal with them in a manner that befits a king. Having been looked down on by that race would have done that, which makes it all the more ironic that he ended up marrying one of them. Either way, Kate knows how to handle them, better than her husband at any rate.
Of course, she can't take her children to court with her. Thoren and Thráin wouldn't know proper behaviour if it waved in their faces – his hopes for the future of Durin's line are diminishing with every passing day – and last month's childminding disaster has made it very clear that Thorin should not be the one doing the childminding. Besides, Thorin has disappeared to the forges to work off some of his frustration over the latest correspondence with the men of the Lake. Disturbing him would be unwise.
In any other circumstance Kate would have cast a pleading look in Thora's direction, but Thora has wed Ori only three days past and the couple has yet to emerge from their rooms. Kate has pointed out that the odds of walking in on something embarrassing are too high and she really doesn't want to find her brother and her best friend in a compromising situation. Dwalin agrees whole-heartedly.
Of course, it doesn't solve the matter of babysitting. Dís is off the list – with Thorin in the forges – so is Lufur, the young guardsman who's become a good friend of Kate's – on a patrol three days away, under Fíli's command – and neither Dwalin nor Kate can find it in their hearts to inflict Dori on two unsuspecting and innocent lads. And Nori is out of the question for the more obvious reasons. Unfortunately, that rather exhausts their list of suitable childminders.
At this point Dwalin opens his mouth. 'I'll look after them.' He isn't quite sure where the words have come from, but there is no taking them back now that he has spoken them. 'It'll only be for an hour or two.'
Kate frowns. 'I can't promise that,' she points out, somewhat unnecessarily. The lords of Dale can drone on and on in a way that slowly lulls a body to sleep. Two hours might be a slightly optimistic prediction. 'And you don't have to do it. There are others.'
A few years ago he would have balked at her dismissal of his services, but he likes to think he's starting to figure her out. And he's come to realise that Kate doesn't like having to ask things of him. Of course, it may not have helped that he's always projected the message that he doesn't like being asked things.
But this he'd like to hear. 'What others?'
'Bofur wouldn't mind.' To her credit she follows his question with an immediate response. 'He might not even mind being dragged from the mines for it. And I might try Dara.' Hm, she might even have a point. Bombur and Dara have such a brood of their own that two more dwarflings would hardly make a difference.
'Or you could let me do it.' Thráin is already on his shoulders and Thoren has clearly perked up at the idea he'll be supervised by Dwalin for an afternoon.
She's thinking it through and then pulling one of her faces. 'Okay,' she says, another other-worldly word that is apparently a synonym for yes. 'If you really don't mind.' She is still giving him a way out.
Dwalin doesn't take it. 'Best not keep the men waiting,' he tells her.
Kate grimaces. 'Two more minutes won't kill them.' She pauses to press a quick kiss to Thoren's forehead and then reaches up to ruffle Thráin's hair. 'You two be good now,' she tells them. 'I do expect to find Dwalin still in one piece when I come back.'
He grins. 'You think I'm that breakable, lass?' There is still a bit of newness to the bantering. Kate meets it with slightly startled disbelief without fail every time, as if she can barely believe that he is actually being nice to her. When he is nice to her for Thorin's sake, she never seems to question it, but when he's making an effort for her, when Thorin is nowhere to be found, she appears to find it bewildering.
Truth is, she is not half-bad company when she's in a decent mood. Of course, she's contrary a lot of other times and Dwalin is not entirely sure what ever compelled Thorin to wed her, but that's not for Dwalin to question. His friend is old enough to know his own mind and, one can only hope, his own heart. And, if Dwalin has to be honest, Kate is better for Thorin than some of the unattached dwarrowdams populating Erebor these days.
And he has always known that it would be better for Thorin to have permanent company than to lack it. Thorin is a solitary dwarf by nature, but that doesn't mean that solitude is exactly good for him. He needs someone to keep him grounded in reality. Kate is far more suited to the job than any other Dwalin knows. That realisation has only come with time, just like the one that she has a good heart hiding behind all that snappiness and sarcasm. And there is loyalty there, more than most folk give her credit for. Then again, they don't know that she has given up an entire world for Thorin's sake. Dwalin does know and inevitably it colours his view of her and it does so in a good way.
'I think you are underestimating my lads,' she says cheerfully. 'They'll wear a body down with one hand tied round their backs, mind my words.'
Dwalin does not doubt it. 'Might be the other way around, for all you know.'
Kate arches an eyebrow. 'This I would like to see.' She's at the door now. 'I'll be back as soon as possible.' With that, she's gone.
True to her predictions, Thoren and Thráin keep him well occupied. And it's honestly hard to keep track of the passage of time when there are two dwarflings literally hanging onto him, demanding his attention, never allowing him a break. All that restlessness must come from their mother, Dwalin decides. Kate can't sit still either.
Normally he has little patience for things like this. He always made an exception for Fíli and Kíli when they were younger, and he's good with infants. But once said infants get to walking and talking he doesn't know what to do with them anymore, not until they're old enough to hold a sword and receive instruction in the art of fighting anyway. And he very much doubts that Kate is going to allow him to take Thoren and Thráin, aged four and two respectively, to the training grounds.
It's easier than he thought. What's more, he rather enjoys it, so when Kate comes back some hours later, looking exhausted and dishevelled she finds Dwalin spread out on his stomach on the floor with her two lads on his back, pretending that Dwalin is a pony rather than one of the most fearsome warriors of this age. And Kate, who to his knowledge still finds him a little intimidating, bursts into laughter.
'Good grief, what's happened here?' She's trying to control her mirth – badly – and Dwalin fears that whatever remained of his reputation is lying in pieces on the floor. 'Oh, this is exactly what I needed.'
'A humiliating sight?' Dwalin questions, not entirely sure he ought to read an insult in her words or not.
'A good laugh,' she corrects. Then she catches herself and adds: 'I'm not mocking you, mind. Only I wish I could snap a picture of this. It looks… good. Sort of normal. A bit like I actually pictured my life. Filled with normal things.' She's starting to flounder. 'Oh, bugger it all, I can't explain it adequately.' She must have seen Thoren perk up. 'And you did not hear me say that. It's bad enough you pick up bad habits from Nori.'
Dwalin can only agree there, though in all fairness, they might pick up more from Nori than just a few mild swear words.
Kate marches over and dislodges Thráin from Dwalin's back. 'Come on, you, let's give Dwalin some breathing space. You too, Thoren.'
The latter responds with a whined 'amaaaad' – the lad makes it at least a five syllable word – before Kate's sternest look forces him into compliance, or what appears to be compliance. The moment his mother's attention wanders to Thráin, whom she's just put back on the ground, he jumps at her and tackles her to the floor before she can find her balance.
'I won,' he declares, sitting down on her stomach.
'A worthy victory,' Dwalin praises. The lad's got battle sense, although his sense of honour leaves something to be desired. One does not attack when one's opponent's back is turned. 'How about you let your amad get up, eh?'
Thoren crosses his arms over his chest in a gesture that suddenly makes him look very much like his father at his most stubborn. 'No.'
Kate nods slowly. 'That's how it's going to be then?' she asks. 'Well, I suppose there's nothing else for it.' The lad has the good sense to start looking worried when Kate conjures up a wicked grin. 'Remember, you brought this on yourself, darling.'
Thoren, unlike Dwalin, clearly knows what's coming. The boy gets up with a squeal and tries to make a run for it, but Kate is quicker and she grabs him before he can make a quick getaway. The volume of Thoren's shrieking is ear-piercing when Kate starts to take her revenge by tickling her eldest without mercy.
'Who won again?' she asks innocently.
'I did,' Thoren insists cheekily. Another bout of tickling makes him change his mind. 'You did! You did!'
'Just so,' Kate agrees, letting up.
She rises to her feet and Thoren flees to his room, making a show out of looking over his shoulder in mock-fear. It might have looked genuine if he wasn't still laughing.
'You are a warrior after all,' Dwalin observes with a smirk.
Kate shrugs. 'Shame you can't actually tickle orcs to death. Hm, that makes me wonder, can orcs be ticklish? They don't seem the type.'
'I've never bothered to ask,' Dwalin replies truthfully. 'And their corpses aren't that talkative.'
Kate snorts. 'Big surprise.' She brushes the hair from her face. 'Thanks for today, by the way.'
'The lads were easy,' Dwalin answers. It's more or less true.
Kate gives him a knowing look. 'Were they indeed? Well, thanks anyway.'
He nods and then parrots her words from a couple years ago back at her. 'That's what friends are for, after all.'
He doesn't know what surprises him more: the fact that he speaks those words in the first place or that he actually means them.
But Kate is smiling, albeit it's in a surprised startled deer sort of way. 'I suppose so,' she says, once she's regained her composure. But he can tell that she's pleased at the development. 'And with that being the case, can I offer this friend of mine a cup of tea?'
It's not as if he has places to be. He might as well accept.
So he does.
It's unexpectedly pleasant. There isn't a single awkward silence. Progress indeed. The tea is good too. He might actually get used to this.
He does that too.
After the last two chapters filled with more heavy stuff, I thought a more light-hearted chapter was in order. And I think someone actually requested a piece about Kate and Dwalin becoming friends ages ago. I must confess I don't know who asked for it, but I did make note of it at the time and so here it is.
I hope you enjoyed it. Thank you for reading. Reviews would be most welcome.