Chapter 59

The Iron Hills Epilogue: Going Home

The next day passed uneventful, to Kate's infinite relief. Most of the day was spent packing everything for the journey ahead and unearthing all their possessions from where they had gotten scattered all over their rooms. Glóin's pipe was discovered down the back of a sofa. Fíli had managed to lose three pairs of socks, which were not found again. Ori found one of Kate's bracelets in his bed, which was never adequately explained, although the too innocent look on Thráin's face strongly indicated that they need not look too far for the culprit.

The headache had mostly receded. There was a dull throbbing at the back of her head that reminded her that this was a temporary condition. There's still the bloody feast tonight.

Yet somehow it was all more bearable. We're going home. We're going home. It was like a jubilant song in the back of her head, giving energy and hope. Twenty-four hours from now she would be on the back of a horse, and these Hills would be shrinking in the distance behind her. Forever. She would never go back.

If she wasn't a queen and she hadn't had dignity to maintain, she might have danced around, whooping with joy.

As it was, she left the whooping to her sons, who regarded the sofas as their personal bouncy castles.

Dáin was not going to be pleased with the state of his furniture.

The mood was infectious. Glóin was singing – off-tune, because he couldn't carry a tune in a bucket – with great enthusiasm, Thora whistled and Ori was humming on and off with a great self-satisfied smile on his face. Kate understood that he had spoken to Dáin last night, but neither he nor Dwalin – who had gone with him and who also walked around grinning like a loon – would breathe a word of what had happened there.

'Did they tell you?' Kate asked Thorin as they dressed for the last official function they would attend.

He shook his head. 'They would tell me nothing but that the message had been successfully delivered.'

The matching grins of the conspirators suggested that quite a bit more had taken place. 'Might be better that way,' Kate allowed. 'At least we'll have some plausible deniability.'

Which, if the faces of Dáin and his wife were anything to go by that night, was something they might need. They were waiting at the stage door of the dining hall, as they had been the first night, decked out in finery and enough jewels to sink a small ship.

They may be beaten, but they will never let their people know. Everything is a performance here. Nothing is real. Nothing is what it seems. In so many ways, they reminded Kate of the elves.

The smiles continued the theme of insincere and, much as it had been on the night of their arrival, keeping up a conversation at the high table fell to the Erebor contingent. In a blatant breach of protocol though, Stonehelm claimed the chair on Kate's right hand, banishing his mother to the edge of the table. This meant that Dáin and Lady Halda were on their own. They ate their meal in frosty silence. Their son, on the other hand, chatted loudly with his guests about every topic under the sun.

Quite against her expectations, Kate found that she was having a fairly good time. If only she could ignore Dáin's death glare boring holes into her skull.

They skipped the dancing and retired early, citing an early start the next day. She had a feeling Dáin had reached the stage where he was pleased to see them go.

Not a surprise. He had attempted to tear their reputation apart, wreck their marriage and steal the throne. He had failed in all three objectives. Now Thorin had the kind of blackmail material that could ruin him and his own lords had some serious questions about his leadership abilities. Hopefully that would keep him occupied for the next few years.

Kate slept well for the first time in weeks without any potions whatsoever and woke up the next morning without pain, also for the first time in weeks.

'Time to go?' she asked.

Thorin smiled the first real smile she had seen on his face since their arrival in this place. 'Yes,' he said. 'It is time to go home.'

Kate couldn't help but smile herself. 'What a lovely thought.'

Breakfast was a hurried affair; they were all eager to get going, to put as many miles as possible between them and this place. So it was off to the gates they went, leaving the state of the rooms as a surprise for their host.

Of Dáin and his cronies there was no sign. Goodbyes had been said the previous night. With any luck they would be long gone by the time Dáin woke up.

For the moment no one of his retinue had shown their faces. Only the guards at the gates were witnesses to their departure. They watched the bustle with interest, but didn't offer anything in the way of help or greetings.

'Two of them have gone inside, my lord,' Lufur reported to Thorin. 'They have the look about them of messengers.'

So much for leaving unnoticed. Kate briefly entertained the notion of getting on horseback now and letting the rest of the retinue catch up with them as to avoid any last minute confrontations. Then again, that would be rude. And they were still guests.

Thorin had come to the same conclusion. He nodded at her.

'Carry on, please, Lufur,' he said. 'We shall leave when we are ready. If any should wish to speak with us, they shall have to present themselves before we have completed our preparations.'

'As you say, my lord.' Lufur bowed and left to convey the instructions to the rest of the party.

'Dáin's deeper underground than we were,' Kate said. 'It'll take the messengers a while to get to him and then he has to make the journey here. That might take as much as an hour. We might be done before then.'

If they were lucky. There was still all sorts of frantic activity taking place: ponies and mules getting saddled and prepared, carts being loaded, folk digging through luggage, checking if they truly had packed everything. Thoren and Thráin played a game of tag, running and whooping and getting horribly underfoot.

It's all an adventure to them again, Kate observed. Even Thoren seemed to return to his usual boisterous self. Kate watched him running around with his brother and felt the worry she'd had about him since the attack ease a little. The nightmares had ceased and that horrible solemn look that he'd had seemed gone.

Mahal, give that he won't remember it at all in time, she prayed. He was too young, far too young. I won't be able to protect him for the rest of his life, but he's just a child now. Let him remain a child for a while longer.

Thorin followed her gaze and slipped an arm around her waist. 'He is healing.'

'They both are,' Kate agreed.

They stood and watched for a while, simply enjoying their sons enjoying themselves. This is how it should be.

Of course it would be too much to ask that they made their escape without being interrupted. But things must at least be going their way just a little, because the dwarf coming out of the gates at a bit of a run was not Dáin, but Stonehelm.

He came to a skidding halt in front of Thorin and Kate, and executed a sloppy bow more by accident than intent. 'I'm glad I've caught you before you left,' he said when he had caught his breath again.

Thorin very wisely did not say that he was glad of that as well. 'Are we to expect your father as well?'

'No.' The answer was swift and commendably decisive. 'He has other matters that require his attention this morning.'

Such as doing major damage control with his own council and trying to defend himself against claims of mental instability, were the words that Kate very definitely did not say. She could think them, though.

'Please convey our greetings to him,' she said.

Stonehelm hesitated for a moment, then pulled himself together, and got straight to the point: 'You are aware of what my father and the council sought to achieve.'

Thorin and Kate saw no reason to deny this.

'It is over,' Thorin said.

Stonehelm nodded. 'It is.' Not a question, just a simple statement of fact.

The silence lingered between them for a while. Stonehelm visibly struggled for a way to tactfully put something into words, but failed. He did it tactlessly instead: 'What happens now? My father committed treason.'

Kate could tell it pained him to admit it.

She felt for him, she really did. He was everything a dwarf ought to be, trapped by birth and duty in a position that must be abhorrent to him, in an environment that valued scheming and double-speak over fair, honest dealings. He loved his father, but could not support his actions. It was why he had tried to warn her on the first night after all.

'He will remain the Lord of the Iron Hills,' Thorin replied, which visibly pained him. 'He is loved by your people. To remove him would anger them. I have spoken with Lord Dáin at length. We have reached an understanding. He will not attempt treason again.'

Only because he's afraid that Thorin will bring about his downfall if he does, Kate thought uncharitably. She had no illusions on that score. Dáin's views had not altered. At heart he still believed that he should wear the crown.

Stonehelm considered this for a moment. Then he nodded. 'I see.'

Kate suspected he saw rather more than the things that were discussed. He was loud and jovial, but that didn't mean he was stupid. Far from it.

'We shall send ambassadors,' she said, trusting that he would read spies and observers in that, as she intended.

Stonehelm nodded again. Without further warning, he went down on his knees before them. 'I swear, by Mahal, that I am loyal to the King under the Mountain, Thorin, son of Thráin. In due course I shall swear my allegiance to your chosen heir. Neither in word nor deed shall I contend against you.'

Kate blinked. It was the only action she was currently capable of, because her words, usually her greatest asset, failed her completely. There was no real need for this oath. They'd known he was loyal. She had no doubt that, unlike his father, he would respect the succession. In fact, he had shown very little interest in power at all.

He could play the game of politics when he had to, though. But he played it according to the rules of his own principles. He had bound himself in a way Dáin would never approve of, so he had done it where Dáin could not put a stop to it and with enough witnesses so that Dáin could not hide it.

The Iron Hills will be very different under his leadership, Kate thought. Just a shame that they'd have to wait for it. Dáin looked disappointingly robust.

'Please rise,' Thorin told him. It was only because Kate knew him so well that she knew he was as surprised as she. He extended a hand, which Stonehelm took, and hauled him to his feet. 'I thank you, but there was no need for this.'

Stonehelm nodded at both of them in turn. 'My lord, my lady, there was every need.'

Yes, Kate thought, he's right about that.

'Thank you all the same,' she said, knowing full well that once two dwarves entered into a contest of wills, they would be here until sundown. 'It is good to know that we have at least one friend here.'

'You have more than one,' Stonehelm said.

It's just a shame that none of them are on the council.

'And I hope that this will make you think more kindly of us, when you leave,' Stonehelm carried on. 'There are many here who hold you in high esteem. We are your subjects and your allies, yours to call upon as you wish.' He looked Thorin in the eyes and held his gaze without flinching. 'I shall see to it that the call is answered. You have my oath on that.'

Thorin nodded. 'You have my oath that I shall do likewise for you and yours. If you are in need, do not hesitate to call. That should be the way of it among kin.'

Stonehelm nodded tersely. 'Aye, so it should be. I shall inconvenience you no longer. You must be away.'

And they were keen to be away. Still, Kate was glad he'd come to find them. She hadn't realised how reassuring it was to have a sworn ally in this hostile place. So she bid him farewell with genuine warmth of feeling. Thorin, very tellingly, did the same.

'He'll be a better Lord than his father ever was,' she remarked when he was out of earshot.

'Is that the knowledge of the book you remember?'

Kate shook her head. 'That book has nothing to do with it.' In fact, she struggled to remember if it said anything about him. If it did, she had forgotten. 'Nah, this is just trusting the evidence of my own eyes.'

'That'll do,' Thorin agreed. He smiled, which was a more welcome sight than even the open skies and sunshine.

She beamed back at him. 'Ready to go?'

He nodded. 'Aye. Let us go home.'

Of course, it took two weeks to get there. But the weather was fair, the orcs were scarce and the company was good. Even so, when at last Erebor appeared on the western horizon, Kate could have happily sworn that she had never seen a more welcome sight in all her life.

And with this finished, I am starting my summer break. I'll be back to publishing stories in September.

As for my plans, Duly Noted is going to take a bit of a backseat for a while. I've got a few ideas, and some I've made a start on. There will definitely be updates for Duly Noted in the second part of the year.

The main focus however will be on some new work, which started off as a plot bunny, which then grew into a plot elephant the moment I started paying attention to it. It has now reached the point where the thing has multiplied and turned into a series. I'm currently about seven thousand words into part two. Please send help.

The first part of that series, Book Hunt (Dresden Files/Invisible Library crossover) will be edited over the summer and published in September. Do take a look if you're interested.

In the meantime, reviews and requests will still be very welcome.

Have a lovely summer!