Chapter 57

The Iron Hills: Stalemate

The talks dragged on for a fortnight without any visible progress. Every subject had been discussed, but no resolutions reached. Thorin never had much patience for this wretched business, but the barely concealed hostility of Dáin's council and their objection to every point made was stretching his patience to its very limit.

Dáin, unsurprisingly, dragged his heels. He didn't encourage any further hostility, but he was slow in reining in his people. Even when he did so, the efforts were half-hearted at best.

And his nobles knew it.

It was just as well that at last they decided everyone would benefit from a day off to contemplate how to carry on.

Thorin and Dwalin headed to the forges. Work was its own remedy, Thorin had always found. Making things was a vast improvement over fruitless talk. And if he imagined that the steel he pounded into shape were the heads of the offending council members, that was his own business.

The time flew past rapidly. The noise was too loud to allow for conversation, which was just as well; he'd had enough of words to last him for weeks. Dwalin knew him well enough to know when to speak and when to be silent. His own single-minded focus deterred any others who may have wished to approach.

By the end of the day some of the tension he had carried in his shoulders seemed to have melted away. The prospect of having to go back to these wretched talks on the morrow still hung heavy over him, but its weight was not as heavy.

'Today was well-spent,' Dwalin commented on the way back from the baths. They were nowhere near as good as the ones in Erebor, but Thorin had managed to keep that opinion to himself.

How he longed for home!

'Aye,' Thorin agreed. 'Would that more days could be like this.'

Dwarves were made for work, not for these endless negotiations.

Dwalin merely grunted in response.

He found his own people already in the rooms assigned to them, preparing dinner there rather than subjecting themselves to the stage performance that was dining at court. Here he found some peace – if not quiet – and the friendly company he so craved.

Fíli handed him a drink. 'Productive day?'

Thorin nodded. 'It was. Yours?'

'Ori and I saw to the remaining paperwork and we took the lads to the market, to the great delight of both.' Fíli grinned. 'I reckon they're tired of being cooped up.'

Thorin knew. He didn't like having to enforce this either, but just because Dáin had promised not to commit violence against his family did not mean that his lords would be as obliging. And until he could be assured of their safety, he'd keep the lads where they were well-protected.

'Was all well?' he asked.

'We took four guards,' Fíli reported. 'They weren't needed, though. Not one of Dáin's cronies was in sight. The lads were quite capable of charming everyone there.' He put a hand on Thorin's arm. 'They are not all against us, Thorin. There's good folk here as well.'

Thorin knew that. He wasn't worried about the good folk. The rotten apples among them were the ones giving him sleepless nights.

'Where's Kate?' he asked. All his people had congregated in the kitchen and living room, but Kate was not among them. Come to think of it, he didn't see Thoren either. They wouldn't have gone out, would they?

Worry flashed across Fíli's face. 'Lying down,' he replied. 'Headache. It's why Ori and I took the lads, to give Kate some peace and quiet. Thora reckons it's the strain of these past weeks taking its toll on her.' He hesitated for a moment, then added: 'And perhaps that head injury she sustained on the way here giving her grief.'

Perhaps he ought to have recognised the signs. He knew she'd slept less since they arrived. In council she did most of the heavy lifting and the conversational niceties. She was better equipped to detect double meanings and undercurrents of malice. But she could not carry on indefinitely and, as Fíli said, her injuries still troubled her.

They troubled her worse than she had let on if they forced her to spend a day in bed.

'I'll see to her,' he said.

'I'll let you know when dinner is on the table.'

He found Kate in their bedroom, lying down with her eyes half-closed. Only a single candle lit the room. Thoren sat on the bed beside her, stroking her forehead the way Kate did for him when he was ill. Neither of them noticed his arrival. The sight was heart-warming.

'There, amad, better now?' Thoren asked.

'Much better, darling.' Kate smiled, but the pain showed on her face, no matter how well she tried to conceal it.

'But not all better?'

'Not quite,' said Kate. Not by a long way, by the looks of things.

Thoren smiled, bent over and kissed her on the forehead. 'Kissing it better,' he announced, then did it again. 'For good measure.'

Kate's smile widened. 'Well done, Thoren.'

'Better now?' he asked hopefully.

Kate's answer was very diplomatic. 'In all the ways that matter.'

'Your amad needs some rest, lad,' Thorin said, drawing attention to himself. 'How about you join your brother?' Who was currently trying Dwalin's back out for riding.

'Yes, adad!' He hopped off the bed and sprinted out of the room.

Thorin took his place on the bed. 'Why did you not tell me?' he asked.

Kate grimaced. 'It wouldn't have helped,' she said. 'I can't just stay away from the meetings, because that would only make things worse.' She closed her eyes. 'And I didn't think it was that bad. Well, not until Thora gave me a bit of a lecture. I've never been scolded in hisses and whispers before.'

If it had reached the stage that both light and sound had become painful, Thora would have had a good point. 'You are not well,' he said. 'I shall ask Dáin for another day's delay.'

'We can't. Things are bad enough as they are.' Try though she might, she could not keep the despair out of her voice.

He felt it himself occasionally. Every day was the same cycle of hostility and lack of solutions. Every day they were unable to resolve matters was another day in these thrice-cursed Hills. Would that he could leave, return home and leave this whole nightmarish business far behind him.

But he was the King under the Mountain, and he could not.

'They cannot be much worse,' Thorin said. 'I shall go to Dáin in person and deliver the message.'

And while he was there, he would deliver also a very stern reminder that Dáin's own task was unfulfilled and that Thorin's patience was wearing thin. His kinsman was skirting the borders of acceptable behaviour towards his liege lord. He had let it slide for far too long. It had to come to an end.

Kate looked like she might protest, but he shook his head. 'No, Kate. You won't sway me in this.'

Even though it seemed as if she was contemplating just such a thing, but after a moment she closed her eyes and sighed. 'I suppose another day off wouldn't be so bad. We'll do damage control after.'

Thorin fully intended to let Dáin do the damage control, as he should have done weeks ago. 'Rest,' he told her. 'I shall see to it.'

She nodded only barely.

Thorin left the room, instructed Thora and Ori as to the lads' bedtime – dealing with Dáin was never quick business – and left, taking only Lufur as a guard. He hadn't eaten, but there was nothing like this foul game to put him off his appetite.

Dáin did not live far away. The proximity to his guests was probably meant to be taken as an honour, though it was honour Thorin could do without. He himself tried to stash unwanted guests away where he would not walk into them beyond court, for the comfort and well-being of all.

Three knocks at the door summoned Lady Halda, who was thoroughly surprised – and not in a good way – to find her King at her door. 'My lord? What brings you here?'

'I have matters to discuss with your husband.' The tone probably told her it was not going to be a very cheerful conversation.

Her face was carefully blank when she replied: 'Of course. He is in his study. Follow me, my lord.'

Thorin did. The lady seemed displeased that Lufur followed him, but she said nothing.

Dáin's home was as ostentatious as Thorin had come to expect; expensive tapestries, heavy, elaborately carved furniture and, prominently displayed over the fireplace, a large portrait of Dáin and his wife and son. Thorin wondered if he only imagined that Stonehelm's likeness looked uncomfortable to be there.

Dáin's study continued the theme of extravagant, but at least the painting over this fireplace was of Dáin's father. Presumably Dáin might find it disconcerting to look at his own face as he worked.

'Thorin!' Dáin rose to his feet in surprise. Like his wife, he did not seem to think Thorin's appearance in his home the good sort of surprise. 'What brings you here?'

'I would have a few words with you,' Thorin said as Halda exited and closed the door behind her. Lufur remained on the other side.

'Must we?' Dáin complained. 'Have we not had far too many words between us already?'

'Not enough yet,' Thorin said. He recalled Kate, too tired and too hurting to even protest much when he suggested they delay, and found he had some fury left in reserve for just this moment. 'I have noted that you have not done much to bring your lords to heel.'

'Not done much?' Dáin exclaimed. 'Have I not kept my mouth shut as you bid me? And don't think that this was easy, Thorin.'

'And yet your lords continue as they have done since I arrived.' He would not threaten to expose the cowardice, not yet, but it was certainly one of the next steps he contemplated. 'You have done very little to correct their behaviour.'

Dáin scoffed. 'Because it wouldn't do any good, would it? I can't convince them of something that I do not believe myself. They know where I stand.' He gave Thorin a pointed look. 'And you are doing nothing to disprove their suspicions either.'

Maker be good. 'Explain yourself,' he invited icily.

'If you had any sense remaining to you, I wouldn't have to!' The words were delivered with an air as if Thorin had just proven all his worst fears.

'Do as I ask,' Thorin said. 'I shall not ask again.'

'It's the way you behave,' Dáin said. 'Around that girl.'

'My wife,' Thorin corrected.

'Exactly like that!' Dáin cried triumphantly. 'You always take her side.'

'As she always takes mine. That is what it means to be married.' He wondered about the state of Dáin's marriage that he could not recognise this. 'How is that taken as a sign that my mind is defective?'

Dáin sputtered. 'You always defend her.'

He thought about reiterating the point, but did not think that would help. 'Would you not do likewise if your wife was slandered thusly?'

'That is not the point! Your wife is nothing like mine!'

'So because she is not a dwarf, I should treat her with less dignity?' No one would see him if he punched Dáin in the face. Unfortunately they would certainly know if Dáin showed up the next day with a broken nose.

Dáin opened his mouth to say something else, probably realised that whatever it was, would not sound good, and reconsidered. He closed his mouth again.

'I shall take this as a sign that you have perhaps seen some sense at last,' Thorin said, lowering his voice again. He hadn't realised he had been roaring before. 'And, that being the case, I shall expect you to deal with your lords and to do so swiftly. You have tarried in that duty for too long.'

'Thorin…'

'You labour under the illusion that this was a gentle suggestion.' He had no patience left. It had all been exhausted. It was a rare occasion that he pulled rank on someone, but he had no other choices left. 'You forget to whom you are speaking, Dáin Ironfoot. I am your King, to whom you have sworn your allegiance. These past years have led me to conclude that this has been mere words rather than true loyalty. I order you to deal with your lords, Lord of the Iron Hills.'

'Or you shall expose my secret?' he challenged.

'I have made you a promise, have I not?'

Dáin clearly remembered. He sat back down again, face pale.

'I shall grant you another day's delay to get it done,' Thorin said, which neatly accomplished his other purpose here. 'I would have this done. It is time me and mine returned home. I have business to see to there.'

'You have never wanted to come here,' Dáin pointed out.

'You have never wanted me here,' Thorin countered. 'At least not for any friendly reason. You only wished me here to isolate me from my people, so to facilitate your theft of the crown.'

Dáin had nothing at all to say to that. At long last the last remnants of defiance had truly disappeared. He looked old and tired and, most importantly, defeated.

It should not be this way among kin. It was fundamentally wrong for kin to turn against one another in this manner. But this conflict was not of Thorin's making. He had never wished for this. It was Dáin who had left no stone unturned trying to undermine his own king and kinsman.

'Would that it had not come to this,' he said, and meant it.

There was no response.

So be it. 'You have one day,' Thorin repeated.

He turned and left the room. The silence behind him was deafening.

When she opened her eyes that morning the headache had diminished to manageable levels. It was no longer the blinding, spiking pain of the day before, and quite a few days before that. Kate moved her head a bit, which didn't make her want to scream either.

Progress indeed.

Her memory of the day before was a bit blurry. She remembered a lot of pain, a whispered lecture, her son's nursing attempts and Thorin's promise of another day off.

Did I imagine that bit? It sounded almost too good to be true.

Because this entire visit had turned into such a nightmare. Of course she had known in advance that Dáin was unlikely to make her feel welcome, but his reception had even blown her worst case scenarios to smithereens. It was hard and it was miserable. And even though she had the support of her nearest and dearest, she felt like her every last resource had been drained.

I am so ready to go home.

That thought side-tracked her for a bit. The thought had come so easily to her, perhaps because she had thought it so often before. But this was the first time it didn't apply to England. Now, when she longed for home, it was Erebor she meant.

Huh.

It was true, though. Erebor had become home. It hadn't been a sudden thing. It had been such a gradual process that she only realised it when she was stuck in the bloody Iron Hills and every fibre of her being yearned to jump on a horse and return to Erebor as swiftly as she could.

She didn't get the chance to dwell on it, because Thorin woke up.

'Good morning,' she said.

'Aye,' he said. 'I reckon it is.'

'How'd you figure that?' Kate wondered.

'We will not need to return to the council today,' he replied.

So she hadn't imagined that bit. That was a lovely surprise, and that early in the morning too. 'You are my hero and I love you,' she declared and, just to drive the point home, kissed him.

Of course, one thing then led to another, so it was quite some time before Kate remembered that she had some questions that she hadn't asked yet.

'How did you manage it?' she asked, resting her head on his chest. 'How did you get Dáin to agree to another day's delay?'

'I ordered him to sort his folk out.' She could tell from his tone he had not enjoyed doing so. Thorin would rather inspire folk to follow his will rather than force them. Dáin mustn't have left him any other choice. 'I gave him today to do so.'

She sighed. 'Clever.'

'I learned from the best,' he said.

'Balin will be pleased to hear it.'

He kissed the top of her head. 'It was not Balin of whom I spoke.'

'Thank you,' she whispered.

It was comforting to know he valued her as he did. It boosted her confidence, which had taken a bit of a beating these past weeks.

But today looked bright. No headache, no council. It was as good as it was going to get in this wretched place.

'We are going outside today,' Thora announced at breakfast. 'I have been by a window. The sun is shining and the temperature is mild. It is my decree as healer that we avail ourselves of the opportunity. Especially you, Kate, because you don't look at all well.'

Kate made a face at her. 'You really know how to flatter a girl, don't you?'

Having said that, she felt better than yesterday, but she had to admit that this did not raise the bar all that high. She hadn't seen the sun since their arrival, which didn't do her complexion any favours. Her reflection had looked pale and sickly when she had seen it in the mirror this morning. Going outside sounded like a marvellous idea.

Or it would, if it wouldn't mark them out as different.

Because apparently the Iron Hills folk didn't venture outside unless forced at the point of a sword. Apparently that would make them look mannish, and that was the one thing they tried to avoid at all costs.

Thora must have seen her face. 'I am your healer, Kate,' she said. 'And as your healer I can very well order you to get yourself outside with all due speed. You look ill, which makes this my business. And anyone who does not like it, is very welcome to take it up with me.'

Well, that made it very simple.

Apparently it was going to be a group outing, because their entire party decided to join, perhaps for safety, perhaps to give a show of unity in the face of so much adversity. The whole thing proceeded too smoothly to be anything other than planned. Kate suspected plans had been made while she was too unwell to be involved in anything the day before.

Makes a nice change to have people scheming for my well-being rather than plotting my downfall.

Thora was right; the weather was gloriously sunny and warm. They found a grassy field to set up camp. Thora and Fíli lugged a picnic basket of outrageous proportions between them – Maker only knew where they had found it – so at least they would not go hungry.

There was a small stream nearby, to which Glóin and Lufur took the lads for play. Within minutes all of them were soaked to the skin. Kate would have joined, but Thora had given her a very pointed look and spoken some stern words about the state of her health, which had sufficiently discouraged any desire in that direction.

For a while she was content to sit and soak up the sunshine. Ori had handed her a book he claimed she would like – which she did – and said he would like her opinion on it. Another part of the collective scheme to have her rest and recover, Kate thought. They all tried to be subtle about it, she could tell, but they were dwarves and as such not naturally inclined in that direction. She saw through it quite easily.

Having said that, the time spent in the sun resting was doing her good. She breathed a little easier and the headache receded until it was just the occasional twinge. Thora plied her with medicinal teas and good food from time to time.

It was peaceful.

Still, there was no forgetting that they were not home. The guards kept their weapons close and even when they took the time to spar or helped to build a tree house for the lads they kept an eye out for trouble. Glóin and Lufur took care to keep the lads well within sight and within the circle of guards. It looked relaxed, but everyone was still vigilant.

But apparently Mahal agreed that they needed a break today, and nothing happened. There was no danger from orcs. Even orcs knew better than to venture within sight of the gates. The guards posted at said gates kept giving them odd looks, but none came closer to inquire what they were doing.

It wasn't until after lunch that they got company.

'Thorin Stonehelm approaches, my lord,' Lufur announced.

And indeed he was. He came alone, without his own guards, smiling widely.

'Let him approach,' Thorin said. He looked at Kate, presumably for answers, but since she had no idea either, she shrugged.

'Well met!' Stonehelm called out when he was still a good distance away. Since he had a voice on par with a foghorn, he had no trouble making himself heard.

Thorin rose. Kate reluctantly put her book aside and did the same. 'Well met indeed,' Thorin said. 'What brings you here?'

'The hope of good company,' Stonehelm said. 'Which I am told can surely be found here.'

'You've come to the right place.' Kate smiled. She liked him. Wouldn't it be lovely if he could rule the Iron Hills in Dáin's stead? We wouldn't have half the trouble then that we have now. 'You're very welcome. Have you eaten yet?'

He hadn't, so they made him up a plate, passed him something to drink and invited him to sit down with them, which he happily did. In a range full of strange dwarves, he was the kind of dwarf Kate knew, liked and understood. She wondered if he sometimes felt out of place here. He certainly seemed like he fit in well with her crowd, laughing and talking and eating.

After some time most of the company found reasons to drift away and busy themselves at other things, leaving Thorin and Kate with Stonehelm. Much as she liked to think that this was just a social visit, she didn't think it was.

Turned out that she was right about that.

When everyone had gone off, conveniently out of earshot, he got right to the point. 'My father had a meeting with his councillors this morning.'

Thorin nodded. 'Aye, I know.'

Stonehelm looked… troubled. 'He attempted to tell them that he had come to a change of mind regarding you and the succession. It…'

'Did not go well?' Kate suggested.

Stonehelm nodded. 'Just so.'

Kate wasn't surprised. Dáin hadn't made a secret of his views. He had spoken of them often and his walk had matched his talk. A sudden "change of heart" would be unbelievable. In fact, Kate had no trouble believing that many a lord was now filled with deep suspicion concerning Dáin's motivation.

We're always in trouble, she thought wearily. Only the depth varies.

'Explain,' Thorin invited.

Stonehelm was not happy to do so, but this was a direct order from his king. 'My father declared that after lengthy observation he had come to the conclusion that the King under the Mountain was in his right mind. As such, meddling in the succession would be unwise and indeed unwarranted. He did not agree with the marriage he had made, but had discovered that, these things being so, there were no legal reasons to challenge its legitimacy.'

Kate tried not to scoff. "Lengty observation" indeed. It sounded ludicrous to her and she barely knew the fellow. To those who knew Dáin, and his convictions, this whole spiel was far-fetched at best, an outright lie at the worst. She wondered how many now suspected that blackmail was involved.

Knowing them, probably rather a lot.

'How many of them believed that?' she asked.

Stonehelm looked most uncharacteristically solemn. 'Almost none, my lady.' He swallowed. 'Some claimed that my father was caving to intimidation.' Bollocks. 'Others called him weak-willed to his face.' Double bollocks. 'There were even some who questioned his state of mind.'

Part of Kate thought that turnabout was only fair play and wondered how Dáin enjoyed being on the receiving end of that kind of accusation. On the other hand, conflict here wasn't going to do her and hers any good in the long run.

She exchanged a look with Thorin and saw her own worry reflected back at her.

'Was any kind of conclusion reached?' Because if Stonehelm was here, then the meeting was over.

'The council decided to regard my father's judgement as faulty and they upheld their earlier views.' Stonehelm's discomfort shifted to acute embarrassment, though on whose behalf, Kate couldn't say.

So it is down to us again. Somehow, with the way their luck was going, she had rather suspected that it would come to this in the end. Dáin was a bloody liability and he had nowhere near the right motivation to pull this off. He acted out of fear and those sharks that he called his council could smell that. This change of direction was not the result of a genuine change of heart. Dáin was panicking, which didn't make for any solid decision making.

'I apologise,' Stonehelm said when neither Thorin nor Kate responded. 'I wish that I could have brought you better news than this.'

His sincerity she never doubted and Kate told him so. It wasn't his fault that Dáin's propaganda campaign had been so successful that he now couldn't reverse it even when failure to do so could ruin him.

They think Thorin is mad, so Thorin must be the one to convince them that he is not. No one else can do that, Kate concluded. Somehow they would have to think up something convincing between now and tomorrow morning.

Stonehelm was too embarrassed to linger long in their company. He bowed, then moved to where some of the guards were having some impromptu sparring bouts and joined them. He was a good fighter, Kate observed, if a bit on the impulsive side. Dwalin wiped the floor with him.

She waited with her questions until everyone was well out of earshot. 'What exactly happened with Dáin yesterday?'

She listened as he recounted the events. It had been a good idea if Dáin had had more control over his lords than he evidently had. But they were not about to be overruled. They needed to be convinced.

Thorin's account of what had happened had given her an idea though. Not one she liked, and Thorin would like it even less, but if they were to have any chance of getting out of this mess, it might be the only way.

She took a deep breath. 'I have an idea.'

'What idea?' She could tell he sensed trouble.

And rightly so. 'Once upon a time, we were very good at disagreeing. I think we'll have to revisit that skill.'

Thorin's eyebrows shot up. 'Beg pardon?'

'Dáin says that the reason he thinks you're mad is because you always agree with me.'

Which was very idiotic of him. Thorin and Kate disagreed often enough – although far less than they used to – but they had enough sense not to do it in public. During meetings and official visits they presented a united front. The last thing they wanted was to give their opponents the perfect excuse to drive a wedge between them. Dáin should know this. Did he not have a similar policy with his sour-faced wife?

'Aye, as makes sense,' Thorin said.

'To us, yes, but clearly not to Dáin and his councillors.' Spousal harmony must be rare among them. Perhaps that was why they were all so ill-tempered. 'To convince them, we must learn to speak their language, as it were. Which means that you must disagree with me in public, during tomorrow's meeting.'

As expected, he did not like that one bit. 'You would place yourself at their mercy,' he argued, worry in his eyes. 'There would be none to speak up for you.'

Well, no one said that this was going to be fun. And he hadn't even heard the worst of it yet. 'No, there wouldn't be,' she said. 'Because you are going to agree with Dáin and you are going to have to overrule me.' That struck him speechless, which gave her a chance to elaborate. 'Dáin's council thinks in some way, I think, that you are so under my spell that you can't do anything but agree with me. Seeing you both disagree with me and then force your will over mine will challenge that assumption.'

Or so she hoped.

'Kate…'

'And then when they are nice and confused, we'll switch it up,' Kate carried on, hoping to postpone further discussion until she had laid out her plan in full. 'I'll agree with Dáin and you'll disagree with us both. And then you overrule us both.' Which should drive home a message to both Dáin and his councillors at the same time. Besides, they'd be far too confused at that stage to do anything but try to drag their jaws off the floor. 'And then we'll keep it up, sometimes disagreeing, sometimes agreeing with each other.' Because if they suddenly argued about everything, some of these shrewd lords might start smelling a rat.

'Kate…'

'The idea is to keep them off balance.' Which she was almost certain this scheme would achieve easily. 'They need to see that I do not exercise control over you, that you are capable and willing to challenge me when you hold a different view. They base their entire reasoning currently off of the idea that you cannot do that. Take that away, the whole thing may crumble.'

Thorin offered the briefest of nods, but it was clear he had second, third and fourth thoughts about the whole thing. 'You would still be very vulnerable,' he argued. 'They will tear you apart.'

'Why would they? I am about to align myself with their interests, after all.' Kate smiled at the idea. She could just picture Dáin's face – and those of his lords – as she without warning agreed with him for once. He might never recover from that shock.

'You cannot know that.' Thorin was not convinced. 'I would leave you to face them alone, unable to intervene.'

Yes, she was not particularly looking forward to that aspect of the plan. 'I know it is a planned performance. You have got my back in every way that matters. What we'll do there, we'll act. It's not real.'

They just had to make it look real.

'I don't know what else we can do to convince them,' she said softly. 'And I have a feeling that we are running out of time.' She knew she couldn't do it much longer. She so desperately wanted to go home, to leave this entire mess behind, but they couldn't leave with this still unresolved, not if they didn't want a knife in the back somewhere down the line.

She knew Thorin knew it too. She also knew he would see it her way, even if it went against his every principle.

He took her hand and drew her in. Kate let herself be drawn in and leaned her head on his shoulder. Right now she didn't care that the guards at the gate could see it. She needed strength for the battle ahead. This was where she found it.

Thorin liked the plan no better after a few hours of reflection, nor had he expected that he would. Kate's plan was sound. He saw no other way to deal with the matter himself, which was why he had reluctantly agreed to it, with the caveat that at least Ori and Glóin would back her, so she would not stand alone. There were limits to how far he was prepared to take this performance.

For all Kate's outward confidence, he saw the strain and the worry too. It was a dangerous game they were forced to play, for high stakes, and Kate had the most to lose. She would be alone and without protection.

'Tell me again why we consider this,' Dwalin growled, who didn't like this either.

'Because we must.' Because there was no other way. Two weeks, but no progress to show for it. If anything, Dáin's failure of a council meeting might have made things worse.

He looked at the couch where Kate was sitting with the lads, reading them a bedtime story. If this did not work…

'I'd happily bash a few heads together,' Dwalin offered.

Tempting. Would that he was able to solve this that way. It would be so much simpler.

'If all goes ill tomorrow, you may have to,' he said. If all went ill tomorrow, he would take Kate and their sons home. He would come back alone and impose a lesson on Dáin that he was unlikely to forget. There was risk in that too, but at least his kin would be out of harm's way.

'Curse these Iron Hills dwarves and their love of schemes,' Dwalin fumed, but under his breath, so the lads could not hear.

'Once this is over, we shall not return here.' When Dáin wanted something, he could come to Erebor to get it. And Thorin would be sure to offer as much in the way of obstinacy and reluctance as Dáin had done to him. Kin he may be through blood, but kin he was no longer in all the ways that truly mattered. 'Not again. Not until Dáin has gone and his son rules in his place.'

'Good,' Dwalin said. 'But we shall have to win first.'

Thorin knew that. He wished he could forget it.

They had used the afternoon to plan who would take what position on each topic, who would persuade whom, who would ally with whom. It was a level of deception Thorin associated with elves and the snakes on Dáin's council. Just contemplating engaging in such behaviour himself made him feel unclean.

But what else can I do?

Curse these dwarves and their urges for sticking their noses into what was not their business! What right did they have to sit in judgement on the workings of Thorin's mind? It was a pity that because Erebor had been lost for so long these people had been left to their own devices for such a stretch of time.

Kate finished her reading. It was time for the lads to be in bed – they had tired themselves out with their play – so he went to give Kate a hand. Thráin was closest by, so he lifted him up and carried him to his bed. He was already half-asleep.

'No monsters, adad?' he asked, as he had done every day since the orc attack.

Only the ones sitting on Dáin's council, Thorin thought. 'No, Thráin, there are no monsters here,' he promised. None who would come and fight with swords. Only those who fought with poisonous words.

'Thank you,' Thráin mumbled. 'Goodnight, adad.'

He was asleep before Thorin even finished tucking him in. He didn't even ask for the usual lullaby. His world was still that simple. If his father said that there were no monsters, he was reassured enough to sleep. He was perhaps still young enough to believe that whatever happened, his parents would somehow make it right. I wish I could make it so.

Kate tucked Thoren in and kissed his forehead. 'Goodnight, darling.'

Yet he was not as easily reassured. 'There are really no monsters here?'

'We are very deep underground,' Kate said. 'Orcs could never come here.'

'But when we go back home, can they get us there?' Thoren insisted, eyes wide and serious.

'No, they won't,' Kate replied. 'Because we have many more guards with us now than we had before. They won't get to you.'

She wisely didn't say that there was no chance they would not encounter orcs in the first place; none could make such a promise and hope to keep it.

'Will they get to you?' Thoren asked.

'No, lad,' Thorin said. 'They will not get to her.'

The other monsters might get to her first. Would that he could take Orcrist to them as he could to orcs. It would be his duty to do well the next day to ensure they could not touch her again.

Thoren looked at him and decided that he was sincere. 'All right,' he said, sounding older than his years. 'Night, adad. Night, amad.'

'Goodnight, my lad.'

'Sweet dreams, dearie.'

Most of their party was still sitting in the living room, waiting to strategize. Not that there was much they could do. Thorin and Kate had roles to play. The guards could only protect them from swords, not from the verbal attacks that were sure to be hurled at them.

'I don't like it,' Fíli said. He was one of those who would have to disagree with Kate and, which really stuck in his throat, agree with Dáin. 'You would have me take side with that betrayer of kin against you.'

Kate shook her head. 'Not against us. It's not real. It's a performance. As everything here is,' she added under her breath.

'Hear, hear,' Ori muttered darkly. 'Would that we could do away with the whole dragon-tongued lot and start over with decent folk.'

It was quite the statement from the mildest of Thorin's brothers-in-law and was therefore greeted with respectful silence.

Just not for very long. 'I don't see how that would make it any better,' Fíli said heatedly. 'I have made it very clear that my loyalty is to you. It is not with thrice-cursed Dáin!'

'Agreeing in a polite discussion is not the same as giving him your loyalty,' Kate pointed out. 'You're not any less loyal to us now that you're arguing with us. We know who you are and who you're with. Agreeing with Dáin that a trade route should cross the river at point A instead of point B won't do any harm.'

Fíli crossed his arms over his chest, but the foul look that went with it was for Thorin. 'You know what they will do to her,' he growled. 'You know what kind of effect any dissension among ourselves will have on these folk.'

They would fall on it like starving wargs.

'Aye,' Thorin said. 'That is why Kate will first be in agreement with Dáin on a number of issues. They may regard her as their ally and show some restraint in their dealings with her.'

'And if they do not?'

'Then I am a grown woman,' Kate said decidedly. 'I have taken their hostility these past few weeks. I'll bear it for a few days more. Fíli, I know what I am getting into and, believe me, I don't like it any more than you do. But I don't see any other way. If we are to have a hope of getting out of here unscathed, we must at least try it. It's my marriage on the line. The boys will take the consequences if these people are ever successful. You as well. Is it not my duty to do what I can?'

Fíli grimaced. 'At least you have experience in trying the impossible.'

Yes, so they did.

Maker help them.

Next time: confrontation time.

After this chapter there is one more chapter and an epilogue, which will be uploaded next week and the week after that (3 & 10 July respectively). After that, I've decided to give myself a bit of a summer break for what then remains of July and all of August. During that time I've got a lot of editing to do (1 new fic and another multi-chapter project for Duly Noted), so I'll likely be back to updating at the beginning of September. As to whether it'll be the new fic or the Duly Noted project that'll be uploaded first, I don't know yet. It will depend on how the editing goes.

Reviews and requests are always appreciated.

Until next week!