Clack
I grounded myself to my oh-so-familiar touchstone of a metal bolt sliding into a lock, and then clung onto it shakily with the whites of my fingertips, with every last fibre of my being, as every part of my life spiralled fractally into discordant oblivion.
I held on there for a heartbeat, a minute, an hour, maybe days, as the world around me swirled in dark, writhing, shapeless forms of indiscernible thought and sound, my mind cocooning itself behind walls of nonsense to shelter itself from the reality it could not - would not - be able to address.
And there in the chaos I found peace, and weathered the darkness for a time.
The next sound I remembered was my own desperate, ragged, shaky breath, one I felt I had been holding, as if drowning, for so long that I nearly forgot how to do the motion. My eyes blinked in shock, struggling to adjust to the new and unexpected source of lumination in the room: the sun - how long had I stood at the door? My body suddenly tried to give me a very pointed clue to that, so I lurched towards the bathroom on unsteady legs and tended to myself. I took a moment seated on the stonework throne of sorts to collect myself, elbows resting on my knees and my forehead propped in my hands. I breathed deeply through my nose, still fighting to wrest complete clarity from the nauseating tangle that had invaded my mind, but after a good ten minutes I felt I finally had a good handle on 'me' again.
I took another few grounding breaths and then stood. There would be no point in refusing Bofur only to allow myself and the bairn to waste away regardless. No, now was the time to keep myself healthy and sane, and hope that Bofur's sanity, too, would return in time.
I mechanically tidied the mess I had made the night before, being especially careful to avoid even touching the healer's concoction with my bare skin. Then, still untrustful of my teapot despite rinsing it with soap and boiling water, I brewed myself a single cup of tea with a mix of calming and relaxing herbs and took it to the dark bedroom, where I drank it and then allowed myself to drift in and out of sleep for a few hours. I had been hoping for more, but a part of my mind could not shut off, and by the end of the morning I felt my body protesting the bed, and a growing need to relieve myself. I fought the compulsion for a long while, knowing sleepless nights would do me no good, but then I snapped awake in an instant at a sound I hadn't mentally prepared myself for hearing.
A knock on the door.
My heart raced, all thought of lingering in sleep forgone as I lay with the sheets clutched up to my chin, desperately trying to quiet my breathing and keep still - I couldn't face visitors, no matter who they were.
Another polite knock, and another pause, and then nothing came of it.
It took a long while for my heart rate to return to normal, and when it finally did I threw my sheets aside with a huff and went about my daily routines to keep myself busy. After cooking myself a hot breakfast, I cleaned up rather more thoroughly than usual, and then headed for a good, long soak. I hoped my worries would wash away in the warm water, but they were stubborn indeed, and even when I could sit in the bath no longer, I found I was still burdened with many of them.
I left the tub and returned to the kitchen, where I promptly discarded the kettle and any other potentially contaminated items into the rubbish bin for Bofur to see on his return. This dramatic gesture was instantly gratifying and helped make me feel safer, which, in turn, also shifted my mood into one of slightly more optimism. Surely Bofur would be back soon, and surely he would have seen the error of his ways by now. I was feeling ready to speak with him, and so I made myself another cup of tea, fetched a seat on one of our more comfortable chairs in the sitting room, and then turned my thoughts to how we would move forward from this whole fiasco. A warmth spread throughout me, much more powerful than what the hot bath water was able to provide, as I vividly began to imagine the life we could have if we forgave each other now and planned to have our child, united together, as it should be. I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that we could be happy, for we would be a true family - something neither of us thought we'd have the opportunity to become. I permitted myself to sink into this reality for a good long while, and even when I got up to make myself another small meal, the pleasantness of this best case scenario continued to keep my body in a more relaxed state which allowed me to eat despite not feeling particularly hungry.
As the day slowly slipped by, however, it seemed that no matter what I found to do to distract myself, no matter how many calming breaths and amiable thoughts I forced myself to maintain, one question kept pushing itself into the forefront of my mind, each time causing my heart to flutter and a small tension to reknot in my gut.
Where was Bofur?
I aimlessly wandered towards his workstation, which was really nothing more than a sturdy wooden desk and chair set against the wall adjacent to our bedroom, but already it felt so permanent a fixture in our home, so... alive with his presence. His tools were scattered haphazardly about, a pair of discarded gloves sat in the corner of the desk, and on the back of the chair hung his favourite scarf - which truly needed to be replaced soon, perhaps I could learn to knit so I could make him a new one... I could even detect a faint hint of the now intimately familiar mixture of leather and pipe smoke, or perhaps I was just imagining it as my mind began to conjure crystal clear memories of him sitting in the chair, with myself resting on his knee, wholly encompassed by both his arms and comforting scent. I reached out and lightly touched a wood shaving, one of many that were strewn across the surface of the desk and floor below, and then picked up his latest half-finished project, a gift for baby Melinda of all people. My throat began to constrict and I had to bite my cheek quite hard as I inspected what would soon be a flawlessly smooth teether in the shape of a simple duck, something I had suggested after he had asked me for ideas on it. I remembered feeling a pang of sadness as we discussed it, for he had seemed so enthusiastic and willing to dote upon the infant, and I secretly lamented over the fact that he would never have a child of his own, when it was so obvious that he would be such a great father...
Another knock on the door, and with my nerves in such a frayed condition I jumped so violently that I nearly dropped the carving. A coppery taste filled my mouth, and my tongue prodded my cheek tenderly to inspect the now actual bite as I squeezed my eyes closed and willed the person to go away. Apparently my will was not enough.
Another knock, and this time followed by a voice calling my name: Méra.
I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting against the urge to go to her, to confide in her and allow her to take control of my life, to guide me, and tell me what I needed to do in order to make everything right. She was royalty, after all, and not only that, she was my best friend. Surely she would know what to do… surely she would help me...
Her next set of knocks was slightly more urgent. I stifled a sob with a fist and then quickly stole myself onto the balcony so that I would no longer hear her summons, so that I might pretend she wasn't even there. I wrapped my arms around my belly and brooded on the bleak reality that this child was presenting me with. If even Bofur didn't believe me, why should Méra? Why should anyone? It was a dark revelation, but one that I was determined not to let drag me back into depression, and so I did all I could think to do, trapped here as I was, I turned my thoughts to the worst possible scenarios, and how I resolved to face them if they were to be my fate.
Bofur did not return that evening.
The next day progressed much the same as the one prior, except that as time passed and Bofur remained absent, I was growing more accustomed to the reality that my best case scenario was becoming less likely - not impossible though, and so I made a point of neatly tucking away those thoughts somewhere in my mind where they would not be disturbed, and instead moved on to other possibilities. I entertained countless scenarios of what could happen - some good, some bad, some absolutely absurd, and honestly it helped to be so candid, to talk myself at least part-way through every outcome I could think of.
A curt knock at the door broke me from my reverie. I scowled, growing tired of the interruptions, but remained quiet nonetheless. Another knock. This one was loud and persistent. I held my breath, willing whoever it was to just give up and move on… nobody is home…
I jumped slightly when a loud voice suddenly called out to me.
"I know you're in there. Open up lass. It's just me."
I bit my lip as I recognized Dwalin's gravelly accent.
We hadn't spoken much as of late, so I was baffled as to why he would suddenly be aiming to visit me in my private quarters… unless Bofur had told him. I felt my hands become fists as an edge of panic bolted through my body. No, it wouldn't make sense for Bofur to involve Dwalin right away. Why then? My curiosity won over and so I slowly made my way to unfasten the door. I cracked it open, just enough to questioningly peer at him.
Dwalin, however, quickly placed a broad hand on the door and pushed it fully open, forcing me to move out of the way as he brusquely stepped inside.
He eyed me with a frown, and I frowned back at him, suddenly wary of his forced entry into my rooms. I was considering telling him off, at least, for barging in without so much as a polite greeting when I noticed his gaze soften somewhat.
"Lass, what is it you've done now?" he questioned before I could get a word in myself.
I stared at him, and the concern now plainly etched across his face made something in my chest turn to water. "What do you mean?" I replied as calmly and slowly as I could even though my heartbeat was increasing by the second.
"I've been sent here to escort you to trial before the King, Queen and the loremasters." He took a step towards me, tilting his head in confusion. "This is no trifle matter, lass, this is serious. What is it they think you've done?"
It was then that I noticed he was fully outfitted in his ceremonial armour. This was truly not a personal call at all; he was on active duty for the King's Guard.
I didn't know if I could trust my voice to respond, as my throat had become dry as parchment. Even though I thought I had mentally prepared for almost every worst case scenario, I had not, in my wildest imagination, expected to be faced with immediate legal intervention in the dwarven high court. That possibility hadn't even crossed my mind. What did they want with me? What could they do to me? With so little warning, I knew I had no time to formulate any arguments in my favour, in fact, I wasn't even exactly sure what I stood accused of; simple adultery? Was that such a great crime here that it warranted a fast-tracked trial before the King Under the Mountain himself? And what proof did I really have to defend myself, besides my own word?
Most importantly: Where was Bofur?
I felt a fear begin to grip me. There were no solutions ahead. No happy endings. My life, which had so quickly and unexpectedly become utterly perfect, was now rapidly unravelling, all because dwarves were too stubborn to believe anything outside of their recorded breadth of knowledge. I was defenceless if they weren't willing to take my word as truth, and if even Bofur doubted it - when I knew he, at least, should want to believe me - well, then there was little hope that I could persuade anyone else.
I hadn't realized my breathing had grown shallow, and that slight tremors were now raking their way through my body, until Dwalin suddenly grabbed my upper arm and forced me towards a chair to sit.
"Tell me. Maybe I can help." Dwalin insisted.
I looked up at him and found that I did want to tell him. I wanted to plead with him, to make him understand that I wasn't lying. I wanted him to assure me that he believed me, and that he would sway the minds of those that couldn't yet see the miracle that had happened. I desperately wished for someone on my side, and someone as intimidating and aggressive as Dwalin would be the perfect ally to have in my corner.
But instead I shook my head and then placed it, defeated, in my own hands. Even now, with him as my only audience, I could not find the right words, the right way to begin to breach the subject. He would hear soon enough what it was they thought I'd done anyway, and I felt a sharp pain pierce my gut knowing that when he did, he would be questioning my honour just as harshly as everyone else. An outrage tore through me and I growled in frustration before I looked back at him.
"What if I refuse to go with you?" I asked bitingly.
Dwalin appraised me for a moment before replying. "Lass, I'll not force you to do anything, but if I return empty handed, they'll send a pair of guards to bring you down, whether you like it or no, and then…" he eyed me up once more, then looked down while he flexed his massive hands and cracked a small smirk. "Well, then I'd have to do something violent, and we'd both be on the run. Just like old times, eh?"
I averted my gaze, blinking back tears as I tried to steady myself with a few subtle breaths. I couldn't tell if he was just trying to cheer me up, or if he truly meant what he said, but either way I was eternally grateful for such devotion. At least I still had one friend in this mountain, and decided for both our sakes that my best option was to face the situation with what little grace I could still cling to.
"Just bring me to them." I then said with a conviction that almost sounded real. Dwalin, almost looking disappointed, tried to coax me into saying more, but I cut him off and shook my head again before standing up. "Dwalin, you won't believe me. No one will. Please, let's just go." The weariness that had snuck into my voice caused him to study me for a minute longer, but eventually he nodded and led me to the door.
I followed him mechanically, trying to detach from this new reality as I knew I needed to separate myself, as best as possible, from my raw emotions, or else I would be a quivering, crying mess before even entering the trial. In much too short a time, we had arrived. Two silent guards - who's beards I did not recognize - flanked the door, but they made no acknowledgement of our presence.
Dwalin bade me to stop before we entered. For a moment he seemed at a loss for words, and so he examined me once more, looking for any clue as to the predicament I might be in. My hand betrayed me then, and in subconsciously seeking to hide my secret away I made it all the more clear. I dropped my hand from my stomach as soon as I noticed his gaze flicker to my midsection, but not quickly enough it would seem, as his eyes were wide when they next met mine.
Before he could say, or do, anything more, I turned and stepped up to the door, nodding at the guards to alert them that I was ready for them to open it and allow us inside.
The king's private audience chamber was emptier than I had ever seen it, and that unnerved me more than I had expected. There were none of the military advisors I had grown accustomed to, and who had on various occasions praised my participation in the Battle of the Five Armies. Even more upsetting was that there were only a handful of Thorin's company present, and none of the ones I was closest with. In short, there was not a single friendly face in the room, not one who I could count on to speak entirely in my defence. Even Balin, who was seated next to the king, would not meet my eye. A new fear began to settle in the pit of my stomach, and what little courage I had managed to muster seeped away.
Three loremasters flanked Balin and the king, one of which was a dwarrowdam with sharp eyes and a series of greying braids pulled over her shoulders. The other, a dwarf with white hair to challenge Balin's, I knew to be the ancient keeper of tomes, though I had never heard his name. And lastly, to my further dismay, Róka - the heavily bearded loremaster that had seemed most displeased with my wedding and the traditions it had inevitably broke in its wake. Barís was standing further off, her expression unreadable in the dim lighting that filled the room. The only other dwarves present in the room were Gloin, who was seated slightly further away from the assembly towards the adjacent wall, and (my stomach did an uncomfortable flip when I looked upon him) Bofur - who was on the other side of the chamber, standing behind an empty chair, his own I reckoned, but had turned to watch my arrival. While I would have expected him to keep his gaze cast away from mine as I stepped further into the room, he instead locked eyes with me. I could not quite read his expression, there was sorrow there, guilt perhaps, maybe even fear, but I was mostly distracted inward by the whooshing noise filling my ears, and the incessant pounding of my own heartbeat.
I don't quite remember how I got to be at the room's centre, but could only guess that Dwalin had guided me in as I felt his hand still on my shoulder. He applied a reassuring but firm pressure, which helped me to snap my gaze away from Bofur and refocus. Yet when he finally let go, it took all of my willpower not to turn and grab for him, to make him stay behind me, to be a brace against the blows I was surely going to receive. I set my jaw as I forced myself to hold my own while I watched him take his place to stand nearer to Bofur. It didn't quite seem fair, for Bofur to be allowed to sit off to the side with comrades around him, while I was brought forth to stand completely alone before king and council. Surely it was a petty scare tactic, unfortunately it was already working.
Dain cleared his throat and I peered at him.
"Let's just get this nasty business o'er with then." he groaned, begrudgingly pushing himself to his feet, yet then he stood straight up and commanding, and all the image of the king he truly was. I tried not to cower under his presence.
"You stand accused of breaking the sacred fidelity of your marital vows, and thereby violating the core traditions and intrinsic values of our people… What have you to say for yourself?"
I was caught unawares to be put on the spot so abruptly, and it took me a moment to even realize I had been asked to speak. I began to stammer, which did nothing to help my already muddled state.
"No, no, I- I didn't do- I've haven't done anything wrong." I managed to reply, but hated how whiney and unsure my voice sounded. I tried to take a few subtle breaths to calm myself before I spoke again. "I have not been unfaithful in my marriage." I added with a few degrees more confidence.
Dain surveyed me for a moment and then sighed. "Bring her in." he suddenly instructed, nodding towards a smaller door off to the side of the room.
Confused, I watched as Dwalin carried out the command. Waiting outside in the antechamber was the acolyte of the Royal Healer. She quickly stepped inside and Dwalin shut the door firmly behind her. Dain beckoned her forward to stand beside me and I eyed her with unease, but she did nothing to even acknowledge my presence.
"Please tell the assembly the Healer's full prognosis of the girl's - ah - medical condition, if you will." Dain prompted, waving his hand slightly and then backing up to take a heavy seat once more.
The dwarrow nodded and pulled out a leather-bound journal from a large pocket at the side of her hip, she licked a slender finger before leafing through it.
"Ah, yes, here." she tapped on a page and then read it over before addressing the room. "The girl came to us two days prior with complaints of irregular sickness, fatigue, occasional nausea and dizziness. Upon a more thorough examination, it became apparent that she is with child."
The loremasters murmured and hissed; clearly they had not been privy to this information until now. Dain silenced them with a look and a raised hand.
"She was sure of this?" he questioned after the room had regained some order.
The woman looked almost disdainfully down her nose at her king, the same reproach she had shown me when questioning the word of her mentor, but then simply nodded her head. "There was no doubt." She then looked down at her notes once more, studying them for a minute before shutting the book and tucking it back away in her skirt. "It may also be prudent to mention that human gestation is three moons shorter than that of our own, but from her experience, which, I need not remind you, is considerable, she would confidently say that she has just entered what humans describe as their second trimester."
The white-haired loremaster got up and stepped forward slightly. Upon receiving a permissive nod from Dain, he asked the acolyte a question of his own.
"For those of us not well versed in such matters, would you please enlighten us, in simple terms, as to when she-" he hesitated a moment, as if uncomfortable, but after a withering look from the dwarrowdam he finished his thought, "-became pregnant?"
"The date of conception would fall some fourteen weeks ago." she replied sharply.
The weighted look that Balin and Dain then shared was not lost on me, but thankfully I did not have to wait long to discover their thoughts.
"Thank you, you may go." Dain dismissed the Healer's acolyte, who gave a curt bow before striding out. After the room was shut and our privacy was ensured once more, he flicked his hand at Balin, who took it as his cue to stand and address me.
"Lass, you spent a period of twenty four days living solely in Dale, an arrangement that began fifteen weeks ago to the day."
Before I could think to school my expression, I knew my face had fallen. Balin continued, though his usual eloquence with words was somewhat lacking and it was apparent he felt uncomfortable with his presentation.
"During that time, you had no relations of any kind with Bofur, am I correct in saying so?"
I took a small step forward, almost wishing I could take his hand, fall to my knees and plead my case with as much emotion and tears as was needed to force him to take mercy on me, but I was sure such an act would not be tolerated here. Instead I knew I had to abstain from any kind of outburst and remain as coherent as I could under the circumstances.
"Yes, that's correct, we only briefly saw each other once while I was working. But Balin, please, there is some mistake with the timing. I couldn't have become pregnant in Dale. I promise you, there is no possible way... I must be further along than she says, or perhaps less..." I trailed off, my hand surreptitiously grazing across my stomach as I wondered myself when it had truly happened. Suddenly realizing that sounding so uncertain likely just came across as suspicious, I continued on with more surety. "If a dwarven pregnancy is longer than a human's, wouldn't it be plausible that when a human carries a dwarven baby, it could make it difficult to estimate the correct dates, as the mother may not follow the timing exactly for either race?"
Balin opened his mouth to reply but it was Queen Barís who cut him off as she took a few strides to stand level with Dain's chair.
"A human cannot carry a dwarven child, just as a dwarf cannot bear a human bairn. I'm afraid it is just not possible." Her words were clear and concise, and just as commanding as that of her husband's, yet she gave me a slightly sympathetic look as she spoke them.
"It must be possible." I insisted, filling my own voice with as much confidence as I could muster.
A plaintive silence fell over the room's occupants as they exchanged glances that ranged from patronizing to pitying.
Barís, however, analyzed me with a collected indifference and eventually she turned to her husband. "She claimed that she was not unfaithful in her marriage, and this I do believe. Her pregnancy began well before the vows were exchanged."
Dain stared at her, but she did not elaborate further which seemed to flummox him.
"What would yeh have me do then? Let her off the hook?" he questioned angrily. "I don't care when it happened, fact o' the matter is she disgraced our whole bloody kingdom. I knew allowing this godforsaken marriage to happen in the first place was going to come back to bite me in the-"
"I didn't!" I blurted out, cutting short Dain's tirade. He turned on me and I knew I had to continue or else he would take the chance to lay into me. "I mean to say, I wasn't unfaithful, in my marriage or before it. This baby is Bofur's. I will swear it on any… tomb or relic or, I don't know, anything sacred that you wish! I wouldn't lie about something so important, and what would be the point? You will all see anyway, when I give birth, you will know the truth, and I have nothing to gain by lying about it until that point!"
Róka snorted, but it was the female loremaster that stood and put forth a question of her own.
"If you wouldn't mind returning to an earlier topic, you had mentioned that you were working in Dale while you stayed there - might I ask where?"
I frowned, confused as to why she would be fixated on such a trifle comment, but I politely answered nonetheless. "I was just at the tavern, but- " I hesitated, looking to Dain as I was unsure if I was even allowed to mention the true purpose for my being in Dale in the first place. The King noticed my inquisitive glance and seemed to understand, for he then turned slightly to address the loremaster, though he broadcasted his voice so that the others could hear as well.
"She had been sent to Dale on my orders for a greater purpose, one that has no relevance on today's trail."
The finality of his comment left no room to delve further into the matter, so the female loremaster simply nodded thoughtfully before continuing her previous line of questioning.
"You were previously employed as a bar wench as well, before meeting the Company of Thorin, were you not?" Her words carried a forced delicacy, causing my frown to deepen as I began to wonder how much they exactly knew about my life. She raised her eyebrows, clearly growing impatient for my answer and causing me to feel a bit addled.
"Yes, however-"
"And you spent over five years working as such?"
"Yes, although technically-"
"That tavern is of such ill repute that even our own men choose to avoid it. In fact, the entirety of Bree is held in such low esteem, being a town of drunkards and simpletons, that it is hardly worth the ink to mark it on the maps." With that she resumed her seat while looking to her colleagues with the stink of judgement pinching her lips.
There were heavy nods of agreement and scowls in my direction. I could feel my hands becoming clammy but I took a breath, trying to collect my thoughts and words before trying to speak up once more.
"It wasn't my choice, I wanted to leave the very day I arrived, but I couldn't."
Balin then stepped forward. He quickly glanced at me, his expression unreadable, before he turned to formally address the King. "The girl had previously spoken of a deceitful contract that bound her in her employment. I believe, given her predicament when we first met her, and the events that occurred shortly thereafter, that she was truthful in her account of the matter. It is my opinion that her character not be judged based on her association with the establishment in question alone."
Although grateful for Balin's input, I was slightly vexed by his cold and impersonal presentation of the facts. Was I suddenly no longer worthy in his eyes to even be referred to by name? He spoke of me as if I were a stranger...
Dain inclined his head in acknowledgment but then the previous loremaster piped up once again.
"One further question, if you will, why did she enter said contract in the first place?"
All eyes looked back to me, and I frowned in confusion. What answer were they looking for?
"I… I don't know, because we had to. Because I thought…" I trailed off, and shook my head. What did they want me to say? That I was senseless? Naive? That I had swooned over the young entrepreneur that first encouraged us to sign the contract and then whisked me away to Bree? I certainly knew that tidbit of information wouldn't at all help my image. Did they already know about him?
Róka saved me the trouble of finding an appropriate response as he decided to speak up over his large beard and simply answer for me.
"Because you and your family were poor."
"No- Yes- I mean, we no longer had many options left for us in Laketown after my father died." I stammered, feeling increasingly humiliated.
Róka finally stood up from his chair with a clap of his hands. "Well, there you have it, what better way for a woman of no means to gain herself an otherwise unattainably lavish life than to seduce a member of the Company of Thorin. Willing or no, her time as a barmaid would have given her the skills and guile needed to accomplish such trickery."
"What?!" I shrieked despite myself. "No! That's not true!" A hot anger was beginning to course through me, for this was no fair trial, it was an attack.
Again Balin spoke up to my defence. "It should be noted that she surrendered a valuable necklace in her possession in order for us to complete the transaction that enabled us transport and supplies needed to continue onto Erebor. It was a selfless act if ever I saw one."
"Oh, she knew as well as any that the necklace would be repaid a hundredfold!" he scowled at Balin while pointing an accusatory finger in my direction. "Why, is it not recorded in her very marriage contract that the piece alone was upvalued from 20 to 200 gold pieces? She simply made a crafty investment I say."
There were more heads now nodding, and the loremasters all seemed to be in agreement. I was being backed into a corner and I felt tears of frustration begin to prick my eyes. I willed them not to fall as I whirled around and looked to the few company members present.
"Bofur," I turned and settled my gaze on him, "you know that's not true." There was a plea in my voice now. I needed him to speak up in my defence, needed him to reassure everyone that, in the very least, my ambitions had never been for gold. But he remained silent. Was he, like everyone else in the room, now questioning my true motives?
Suddenly I became nervous at every memory, every instance, where I had acted happy or comfortable in my new bountiful lifestyle with Bofur. Was he now thinking back on those moments as well, scrutinizing them with newly founded suspicions? Afterall, he had once caught me playing around in the actual treasure hoard like a fool, excitedly trying on all the riches I could find - we even made love on top of the piles of gold. Inwardly I cringed, for I had to admit that from a certain angle, the accusations might not seem so ludacris afterall.
"I didn't know Bofur would come into any money!" I argued lamely, but with what little conviction I had left to muster. "For all I knew, they would be killed by the dragon and that would be that, and even if they didn't die, he told me his contract promised no large share of the treasure."
"You truly believed a dwarf would leave his home to face certain death, all for no reward?" Róka asked derisively, peering down from over his bushy beard. "Why would he do such a thing?"
"Because none of you lot would!" I snapped bitingly, not about to let my intelligence be put on trial along with my virtue. I regretted the words the moment they left my mouth, but a small part of me revelled in how it made them squirm. All of their self-important smugness had now been challenged in the face of a simple reminder: that a lowly miner and a human girl, amongst other outcasts and throwaways, had risen to the occasion when most of their people had not - but it would not do to sour their reputation of me further, so I tried to soften the blow.
"...and he was told the beer would be free."
This earned a few uncomfortable chuckles, but was clearly not enough to redeem me in the eyes of those who had already decided on my guilt. Still, I had not alienated everyone it would seem.
"And how did your grandfather make his fortune?" Gloin's voice grumbled from where he had been seated quietly until present. "Forty three gold coins bet on a ram cart race, an auspicious start for an up and coming family, and one he was quite proud of, if his boasting had anything to say of it." He eyed Róka pointedly, then rose up and cleared his throat.
"I spent a total of one hundred and sixty two gold coins and seventy one silver castars outfitting this venture, and have in my possession a promissory note of repayment for a sum tenfold that value, signed by Thorin and witnessed by Balin." He gave the document to Dain to allow him to check it for authenticity. After the king nodded, handing the note to his wife to pass on to the loremasters, Gloin continued. "It is not a crime to make an investment in a venture. If it were, half of you lot would be working in the mines and smithies instead of sitting here today and doing all your banking with me. Yet when I came to you with such a crafty investment, you turned your noses up at the gamble. This lass took the risk, and deserves the same reward that you would have received, had any of you followed my advice all those months ago."
The tribunal was silent, and Gloin, looking somewhat smug in his admonishment, continued to speak.
"I also have a letter from the company's attending physician, who attests that of the fifteen individuals who travelled with the company to Erebor, upon entering the mountain only four showed no observable signs of dragon sickness, those being myself, Kili, Bilbo Baggins and the girl. He admits that all others, including himself, succumbed to the lust for at least some period of time."
With that he took his seat, and a few members began debating as to whether or not the report from Oín could have been written in good standing while he himself had been compromised by the gold lust, and if my lack of symptoms could simply be used to reiterate the many differences between men and dwarves.
I stood there, momentarily forgotten while they argued, feeling somewhat nonplussed. When there was finally a lull, I harnessed some of my growing annoyance and daringly addressed the room myself.
"Excuse me, but I really don't see why anything about my past and job history is at all related to why I'm currently under trial."
The attention snapped back to me like a whip, and I noticed many of the eyes staring at me were hostile, as if my interruption was taken as a great insult.
Dain sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly feeling as irritated as everyone else, myself included. "The tribunal is now conducting an assessment of your moral character, to determine the value we can place on your word, since that is the only proof you have."
"...my moral character?" I repeated incredulously, instantly snuffing the urge to shout dumbly that I was good, for I knew someone with a truly good 'moral character' shouldn't have to yell about it.
Róka rose from his chair once more and I began to truly hate him.
"In the written account of the journey to Erebor, Royal scribe Ori noted that upon arrival in Laketown you were absent from the company for several hours, having left in the company of one Alfrid Lickspittle. You were again absent and in the company of Mr. Lickspittle and the Master of Laketown that evening. As none assembled here today were witness to what occurred during these absences, do you swear that nothing untoward happened during these occasions?"
Before I could even voice my disgust at what they might be insinuating, Dain cut me off.
"Oh come on Róka, hammerin' the ingot a little thin aren't we? You and everyone else here knew the reputation of the Master and his lapdog. I, for one, would rather have bedded an orc than those scumbags." he spat to hearty acknowledgement, but then he just couldn't help but berate the dwarf a little further. "Besides, by that logic, who else in the company might have been up to undignified deeds when absent from the rest? How do we know Balin wasn't off cavorting with some wench the next tavern over from the one this lass worked at? Or Thorin and a hobbit for all we know? Or Kili off with some elf maiden in that damned forest?"
Barís visibly cringed at her husband's lack of tact, raising her hand to her forehead in exasperation. That small gesture alone seemed to cause the king to take heed and go mercifully quiet, but the damage had been done and an uproar then enveloped company members and advisors alike. It was, after all, very untasteful to question such venerable deceased heroes, especially given the rumours of Kili's affection for elves, and Dain's words were hitting a little too close to the truth for some. The benefit of this, at least, was that by the time everyone had calmed down, the particular line of questioning in regards to the Master was dropped altogether.
My appreciation for Dain curbing those disturbing accusations, however, was extremely short lived, as when he next turned his eyes to me, there was a dawning realization in his expression.
"There was a man though," he began carefully, not bothering to stand for he now seemed almost tired, "…from Dale, one you seemed keen on, owing to the fact that you invaded a private meeting here Under Mountain in order to defend him and ensure his safe release from our holding - risking your own prosecution I might add."
I could not pretend that I wasn't expecting the allegations to eventually include Hall. Thankfully it seemed as if Bofur had not, at least, divulged the full story, the one where I had convinced him to trick Dwalin and other members of the king's guard in order to sneak down for a private audience with Hall while he was under imprisonment in one of Erebor's more secure dungeons. I cringed inwardly, realizing that Bofur must now also be musing over the great lengths I went through to help clear Hall's name - a man I had only known for a few weeks. Everything seemed to align just so against me. Still, I could not give up just yet.
"He's a friend, nothing more. You can question him if you like, and his family, they will say the same."
"Such close terms with him and his whole family, and in so short a time?" mused the loremaster 'dam. Before I could respond, however, she had called upon Balin. "What do we know about these humans?"
Surprisingly Balin shot me what I took for an apologetic glance before speaking. "They are merchants from Gondor, an old and wealthy family that saw an opportunity for expansion and increased fame by spearheading the rejuvenation of trade in Dale. They have such a well established network that the head son, almost immediately after their arrival, was appointed as one of Bard's leading advisors, and is also now a public relations agent of the city."
The female loremaster looked back to me with her hawk-like eyes and I felt as if I were little more than a mouse she had just targeted for dinner. "It is interesting how quickly you formed such strong bonds with the wealthiest family in Dale."
"I agree!" Róka exclaimed. "She's clearly gone out of her way to impress those with large financial backings!"
I bristled. "I had no idea his family had such influence. We met by chance and just became friends… I haven't done anything to try to impress him." I stopped and ran my fingers through my hair in frustration, it was almost becoming hard to not sound guilty.
"And yet you still dress like a human woman, and wear your hair like a human woman?" The dam accused, looking me up and down very pointedly.
I floundered for a moment, looking down at my outfit, which was in fact just a simple linen dress, an underdress really, with no embellishments whatsoever. I hadn't even thought to change when Dwalin came to unexpectedly summon me from my rooms. "I- I don't all the time." I countered, knowing full well I had dressed up quite 'dwarven' for several special occasions, I looked up at Barís then, hoping the third female in the room might have an ounce of sympathy left for me. "I was never quite sure if it would be insulting for me to try to mimic your dress for everyday wear." I spoke honestly and that gave my voice confidence. "And just for pure comfort, I'm usually inclined to choose my own styles." I tried to muster a bit of a grin, but recalling the unpleasantness that came with donning full dwarven attire, my grin turned into more of a grimace. Indeed, it was sheer agony on my scalp alone to endure such elaborate hairstyles, and I wasn't quite a fan of the heavy, cumbersome dresses either, even as beautiful as they were. In fact, nowadays my personal style was becoming a relatively unique hybrid of human, dwarven and elvish inspired clothing - mostly whatever articles were comfortable and practical for the day ahead.
Dain, who had been following the line of questioning with an almost bored expression on his face at the discussion about fashion choices, looked sidelong towards his wife at the mention of comfort. "What was that cockamamie thing Méra mentioned the lass did whenever they used the baths? I think I'd rather just lose a leg in battle than do what she did so often…"
Barís shot Dain a look, but the damage had already been done. While Dain may have thought his words were quiet, everyone was so used to listening to the king that when he spoke immediately the chamber had fallen silent. Now, with all eyes on her, Barís frowned - a small gesture, but noticeable on her usually stoic features - and then stepped up once more. This time she spoke with a measure of repentance, and a lack of confidence I had not yet witnessed in the Queen. "I had been made aware of some of your more, ah, personal habits, ones that arguably do seem more aimed toward the pleasure of human men."
I gaped at her, my mind reeling. "What?" I stammered, totally at a loss.
"I'm sorry, but is it not true that you remove your bodily hair?" she queried in a voice so gentle that I assumed it was to help stem the embarrassing nature of the inquiry. It, of course, didn't help one bit. I couldn't quite believe that Méra had divulged my private hygiene routines to her family, and I felt a pang of hurt go through my already beaten heart at the thought of her betraying me.
"No! That's not true!" I felt off-kilter, and the heat rising to my face was adding to the pathetic state of my current existence.
"So can you verify that your legs, for instance, are unshaven?" Róka again, and I shot him a look of pure loathing, but before I could respond Dwalin spoke up, a hint of outrage lacing his voice.
"Oh come on! What, you're going to make the lass lift her skirts and bare herself to the whole tribunal? To ask such a thing of a 'Dam would be heresy!"
There were a few murmurs and nods of assent, for which I was grateful, but not all were convinced. Finally King Dain interjected, and he, at least, seemed rather uncomfortable with the new topic of focus. "Nay, we will not stoop to such a scroundulous request. I'll ask you simply, lass, what is the truth?"
I clenched my jaw, wondering why I hadn't just quit the silly practice by now. "It's just an old habit." I admitted, feeling like I needed to be honest just in case they actually did force me to showcase my legs. "I've carried on with it because it's what I feel looks best - not to impress random human men." I added quickly before they could digress. "Truly I don't care - I'll vow right here to stop forever if that'll lessen your judgement of me. It'll be less work anyways."
The aged dwarrowdam, whom I was also starting to greatly dislike, looked down their nose at me, tutted, shook her head and then addressed the others. "I am not convinced. There is no plausible reason for her to have continued such a bothersome 'habit,' especially now that she has for some time been aware of our customs regarding the cutting of one's hair in penance for great shame. Unless she was seeking to impress her home culture? Or perhaps Bofur had specially asked her to?" she turned and raised an inquisitive brow at him.
Róka barked out a laugh. "The mountain would crumble before a self-respecting dwarf would make such an unconventional request."
"Now now, Róka, we've all got our quirks." Gloin of all people quipped. "That yak hair you weave into your beard to thicken it - is that for the missus, or just a little something to make your own self feel better?"
The loremaster seemed suitably deflated, but then Dwalin seized the chance to speak up as well, and while it was in an offhand manner there was no mistaking the menace in his voice. "Speaking of hair, how fares your dagger wielding exile of a granddaughter, Róka? Rida, was it?"
Dain surged to his feet before the caucus could erupt once again and pointed threateningly at Dwalin. "I may have only asked you not to get involved in this particular mess, but I downright ordered you not to bring that up!"
My breath momentarily left me after I made sense of the connection Dwalin had just spelled out for me, and everything suddenly made more sense. Róka was acting petty, single-minded and downright mean, and yet in his twisted head he was defending his family's honour. I was suddenly sure that he would delight in my banishment, since I was the reason for that of Rida's after she had unlawfully cut off my hair so many months prior.
I let my eyes land on Bofur and he had the decency to look slightly contrite, even through his anguish. Rida had only acted so because she felt she had some claim on Bofur, and hoped to drive me away. It was, in part, his fault that Róka now had an agenda against me, and that this trial was playing out so unfairly. I wrenched my gaze away from him then, feeling my anger and betrayal being fed by this new information. I then glanced at Dwalin. His arms were crossed and his scowl was deep, but he inclined his head just slightly and I was reminded then that I did have his support at least, and I was able to borrow a small measure of strength from him. I set my jaw, ready for the next attack.
It was Dain who next spoke.
"Lass, the fact o' the matter is that you've been shown to hold few things sacred. How can we take your word for truth in this matter if you haven't upheld other oaths you had taken? Take this innkeeper you worked for - is it true you were engaged to be wed to him, only to flee without a formal withdrawal?"
My next few answers were curt and precise. "That's true, however, human engagements are not so contractual, and I had only agreed to it under duress."
Dain looked down on me for a moment, and didn't seem to quite know how to respond, so I continued in a biting, matter of fact tone.
"That's right. That man, the Innkeeper, he kept me there working for unfair wages in an unfair contract for years. When I thought my contract was finally complete, he still wouldn't let me go, for he had written it in such a way that it was impossible for me to leave without his consent. When he insisted that I was becoming too old and useless to do anything more with my life, he tried to coerce me into marrying him. When I refused, he hit me, then locked me in my room with no food or water. I then told him I would agree to marry him, all while making plans to escape. When he found out about those, he beat me again, harder this time, and he took everything I had left in my possession. So I stole his money and fled, only to be pursued with the intent to return me by force, as any company member can attest to. When this failed, he sent a trio of low-lives to murder me, but they graciously offered to let me live, if only I let them all rape me first. So yes, in short, you'll have to forgive my lack of fidelity to that outstanding gentleman."
A silence fell over the audience chamber, and for the first time since this trial started I felt as though my words had actually, truly, been heard. Balin sheepishly cleared his throat finally and murmured "Thorin was made aware of the circumstances with which her previous engagement commenced and was ended, and in the end offered her his blessing, which in my humble opinion counts as a pardon if ever there was one."
"Aye, and I'll remind you that it was my blessing that allowed the wedding of the accused to take place at all. Had I known about this…" Dain gestured towards me, more precisely my stomach, and looked at Balin pointedly.
The dwarrowdam loremaster leaned towards Dain, though her eyes never left me for a second as she continued in her relentless pursuit of my condemnation. In my frustrated state, I was starting to wonder what on earth she could even be loremaster of - being a cold-hearted bitch?
"Were you not, in part, coerced into allowing the wedding to occur in the first place due to the fact that the couple had already partaken in - ah - intimate relations? As we are all aware, our traditions, outdated as they may be, dictate that a betrothal can be assumed when a couple is joined physically." She paused for a moment and raised her eyebrows in a slightly condescending fashion. "Of course, this is no longer socially acceptable, but it does shed further light on her true nature, and we all know of the reputation of humans. It could be argued that she seduced Bofur knowing full well that he would be then obliged to enter a binding relationship with her, and thus she could be comforted knowing she would then always be provided for."
Again I found myself gaping, at the loremaster, and then at the king. I took a breath and tried to rid myself of some of the now overwhelming sense of exasperation I felt so that I might try to speak.
"That is a ridiculous accusation! With how bloody secretive you all are, how would anyone know anything about any of your traditions?"
"On the note of traditions," the female loremaster cut in once more while ignoring my own question, "is it true that it is widely custom for human girls to remain maidens until they are married?"
I felt a stone drop into my stomach as I knew she was sinking her claws in and going for the kill.
My mouth was dry when I answered. "It is common, yes."
"Yet you were not pure of body before entering a courtship with Bofur."
It was no question. They already knew the answer. Bofur must have told them everything, and the betrayal I felt was stunning. I suddenly tasted blood in my mouth once more, and only then realized how hard I had been biting the inside of my cheek to keep from crying out some lament.
My lack of response must have been taken for an answer as the dam carried on with a smug nod.
"Can we assume that you gave your innocence to the man you were previously engaged to?"
"No!" The word slipped out before I could rationalize that it was the wrong answer, but the mere thought of giving my maidenhead to the Innkeeper was so extremely vile to me that I couldn't help but violently oppose the accusation.
Dain and the loremasters stared at me with raised eyebrows.
"Oh, so it was a different man altogether?"
I cast my eyes down before giving her a curt nod.
Róka then cleared his throat and left his seat to fetch a few scrolls of parchment from a narrow table set against the wall behind them. He brandished them after returning, and with a flourish deposited them on the small dias.
"If the tribunal needed any further evidence that this woman is dishonest by nature and seems to feel next to no accountability for her actions, we also have witnesses' written accounts that further discredit her morality. Many of them shed light on her absolute disregard for the Rules of Courtship. Several witnesses can attest to the fact that she had Bofur visit her in her rooms, privately, and on numerous occasions, oft overnight. A member of the Restoration Committee also recalls an account where she forced herself into Bofur's quarters completely uninvited in attempts to lure him into forbidden acts of intimacy."
He paused for a moment in what I could only imagine was some pathetic attempt at dramatic effect, before launching into his most heinous accusation yet.
"Furthermore, we even have one statement that claims she was seen pushing her way into the rooms of Bofur's own cousin, Bifur, dressed in naught but her undergarments, a mere few hours before her own wedding!"
There was a moment where all I could do was simply stare at the loremaster with slack-jawed, dumb astonishment. I then managed to sneak a look at Bofur, who at least looked more incredulous (perhaps even somewhat amused) than upset by this new parcel of information. I shook my head slightly to clear it and finally felt my frustration over the whole affair bubble to the surface in full force.
"This is ridiculous!" I fumed amidst several other noises of disbelief at Róka's latest attempt to sully my reputation, yet I still felt I needed to explain before they could hurl more ludacris accusations at me. "Bifur was the only one around to help me do up the lacing on my wedding outfit! Méra was running late, otherwise she would have done it for me, but her note instructed to have it finished. Get them in here, they can tell you it's the truth!"
I glared at Dain with a newfound confidence. He glowered back, still as stone.
"Maybe we should have them both summoned to testify?" questioned the elder white-haired loremaster. It was only the second time he had spoken for the entire trial, but no one acknowledged his words at all, and so he fell silent again.
No matter, I carried on with my own.
"You twist every piece of information about me to suit your own agenda, and here I was told that your system of law was a fair one, what a joke! I invite you to question Bofur." I added heatedly. "If he is under the same oath to speak the truth, then ask him - for he knows as well as I that it was not always me to initiate all those 'forbidden acts of intimacy.'" I spun the words with sarcasm, though I couldn't quite keep the hurt out of my voice. "Isn't that right Bofur?" I turned to fix him with a patronizing stare, but he would not meet my eye. Still I carried on, hoping to make him feel at least a fraction of the humiliation I had so far endured. "Shall I tell everyone of all the times that you took it on yourself to break your own rules? Was it not you who first kissed me? And I daresay you didn't put up much of a fight after we left the party in Laketown, either. Oh, and you might not remember this one so well, being addled as you were with goldlust, but my head was clear, so what do you think? Should tell them about what you did to me at the mineshaft, when you forced-"
"Stop." Bofur's tormented voice cut through my own like a knife and his eyes finally pierced into mine. I faltered, and my previous bravado slipped away just as fast as it had come on.
"Enough!" King Dain growled. "This has gone far enough! Dwalin, take them out so my council and I might deliberate in peace, instead of being caught between these two harried lovers!"
I was momentarily horrified by the thought of having to step into the hallway alone with Bofur, but had no chance to protest the matter before Dwalin's hand was once again on my shoulder, firmly guiding me to the door.
Once out of the chamber, I freed myself of Dwalin and took a few quick steps away, wanting to distance myself from Bofur, who had followed behind.
"Leave. Now." Dwalin commanded suddenly, and I was momentarily confused, wondering if he was actually prompting me to run away, yet when I looked back I saw he was instead facing the two guards. They exchanged a glance, but when Dwalin took a threatening step towards them they dipped their chins and abandoned their post, likely assuming Dwalin was redirecting orders from the King himself - that - or perhaps Dwalin was simply of a higher rank than them and could command such at his own will.
Once they were well out of earshot, I watched with detached curiosity as Dwalin then rounded on Bofur.
"What in Durin's name is happening?" he growled, gesturing towards the door of the council chamber. "She's being attacked in there! And yet you just stand there doing nothing about it?"
Bofur took a curt step towards him. "This has nothing to do with you." he hissed, slicing the air with his hand.
Dwalin almost seemed taken aback by the fierce finality in Bofur's words and stance, but still he pressed on after a moment. "Regardless of what she may or may not have done, that is no fair trial! And what's worse, this is just an excuse to undermine the honour of not only her, but her people, to make her into a new shining example of why dwarves should not trust humans, to ensure that Dale does not gain the upper hand."
Bofur had retreated slightly to lean back against the wall. "Dwalin," he sighed, looking suddenly weary, "I'm sorry, but not everything has a political agenda."
"Oh, don't be so delusional." Dwalin scolded. "The world is bigger than you and your problems. Everything is about politics whether you care to be aware of it or not." He took a step closer to Bofur, though less threatening than before. "You know full well the quest to Erebor was never just about retaking the mountain. Thorin needed that damned stone to be king of the seven clans. All this," he gestured to the halls around him. "...it was never his real goal." He glanced back to me. "And you can be damned sure this whole business now is not just about your pregnant wife."
"I don't give a damn about Dale's reputation…" Bofur began, but Dwalin cut him off.
"Neither do I, but I do give a damn about you," he prodded Bofur in the chest, gentler than I would have expected, and then nodded to me. "And her." He turned and looked at me then, truly saw me, and I could only just stand there, on the cusp of tears, with a million thoughts circling in my mind. Dwalin shook his head and shot Bofur one final glance full of pity and disapproval. "Defend her, or we will all lose her."
I felt numb as I was forced back to the room's centre, and was only vaguely aware that this time Bofur was also standing nearby. Dain, however, only seemed to address me.
"You've made a farce of our most revered traditions, and broken faith in the eyes of our ancestors and the Maker. Your actions have dishonoured not only your husband's name, but that of the Line of Durin. If that wasn't enough, you threaten to bring shame upon my house and my Rule as King."
I remained silent and pursed my lips. It was all I could do now; they did not listen, they would not hear me.
"There is talk of banishment - and were it not for the fact that your betrayal occurred before the marriage, then that would be the only option under our laws. However, as you are a human, we cannot expect you to fully grasp the severity of our customs, for it is not your birthright. We also can never fully understand human nature and its influences-"
My indignation caused me to try to speak up one last time, but to no avail as Dain held up his hand and shot me a look so piercing that I shut my mouth and looked at my feet.
"Some fault can be placed upon Bofur, for not being wise to your treachery - or for allowin' the wedding to occur even if he suspected infidelity. He should have also taken it upon himself to inform you of the full ramifications of both the courting and marital contracts you had entered into with him, yet clearly you still remain ignorant to many of our sacred laws. That all being said, I offer you both a way out."
Dain paused for a moment causing me to look up at him. He steepled his fingers as his eyes flickered from me, to Bofur, then back to me, before bluntly stating; "Be rid of it."
The weight of the world crushed down on me and I closed my eyes, knowing there would be no choice for me. Dain continued.
"Be rid of it. Forget it happened. Never mention it again. Everyone involved is sworn in secrecy, and if Bofur is willin' to keep his braid intact then we can all just put this mess behind us. You will be stripped of any and all titles and privilege, but will be allowed to remain under the Mountain and continue your marriage as you both see fit."
Dain leaned forward, allowing his words to sink in before he finished his sentence with grave severity, looking me straight in the eyes.
"Otherwise I cannot allow you to remain here, to make a mockery of my name as King and my family's judgement. Erebor will not play host to a human woman and a bastard child that offends both our values and vows. Bofur can remain if he wishes, but if you plan to carry on with it, then you will be faced with eternal banishment: you will never be allowed to step foot within Erebor for the rest of your days, and you will be shunned by all citizens of Erebor, even should you meet them in the world abroad… you will simply cease to exist to all those that call the Mountain their home."
With that, Dain held my gaze a moment more before he sighed and heaved himself to his feet. "You have three days to come to a decision." he added, and then abruptly left the room while muttering something in Khuzdul, likely emphasizing his displeasure for the whole affair. I turned and strode out with the same conviction, not meeting anyone's eye, simply wishing to escape to my room with as much haste as the torn shards of my dignity would allow.
I could hear Bofur following closely behind, but I did not allow him to catch up nor did I make any move to acknowledge him. By the time I reached our quarters, my hands were noticeably trembling, but I managed to get the door open. I rushed inside and finally Bofur called my name, but I ignored it as I scrambled into the bedroom while tears began to blur my vision. I slammed and locked the bedroom door before Bofur could get to it, and then slid down to the floor, pressing my hand to my mouth to quiet my sobs.
Bofur left at some point before nightfall.
He did not return.