Chapter Twenty
Fili, King under the Mountain, felt deeply relieved that he'd reached the Lands of Erebor with his little travelling caravan. One more night on the road and they'd be back at the Lonely Mountain.
At least the trip had been a success, Fili reflected. Dwalin sat on his roan pony with his young daughter Beka riding by his side. The lass wasn't quite as chatty as his own little Iri, but she was talking, asking enough questions to rival his son Fjalar. He wondered if Dwalin was aware of how similar they sat in their saddles—square shouldered, straight-backed…the lass, of course, was smaller and had more hair.
"Hello, brother," Kili rode up beside him, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Care to tell me why you're travelling with fifty Hill lasses?"
Fili kept his expression calm. "They're relocating to Erebor."
He could see Kili's grin from the corner of his eye. "Really…? They've packed suddenly, brought no more than will fit inside their saddle bags, they're all well armed, and to a lass, eager to join the Guard." He lowered his voice. "And they act like you're one of the Seven Fathers reborn."
"Stonehelm's doing," Fili looked his brother in the eye. "Stopped training lassies and he's banned them from his troops." He watched Kili's expression change from teasing to serious. "While I, on the other hand, know the value of a good warrior lass in battle. You know where I found our young cousin?"
Kili shook his head.
"Disguised herself as a lad to join the cadets…because her slag-brained foster brother viewed her as his "property" and wanted to arrange a marriage."
Kili glowered. "And the rest of them?"
Fili explained, including the bargain with the mithril ingot and Stonehelm's joke.
"Mahal's hammer, Fee. And he let you take them, just like that?"
Fili shrugged. "An saved it. We are officially sponsoring a cultural exchange. They are the Queen'sBâhînh."
Fili took one look at his brother's expression and knew Kili was trying to pick one of a hundred possible comebacks, all highly entertaining at Fili's expense.
"Don't even say it," he warned.
Kili held up both hands in capitulation, but with a smirk.
Fili nodded toward the pair riding ahead of them: Dwalin and his daughter. "Is that not worth it?"
"Yes," Kili's smile softened. "Completely. Good job, o wily King."
They rode in silence for a few paces.
"So, I have an idea," Kili said. "Tell me what you think…"
If the Hill lasses had been more alert, they would have noticed an increase in the number of ravens coming and going from the hands of their new King and his handsome brother.
If they'd been more used to the ways of the Erebor Guard, they would have known that the King's caravan didn't go anywhere without a battalion of warriors surrounding it. That those warriors travelled unseen and left the caravan in privacy didn't occur to them.
They did hear the roar of a battle challenge issue from the forest on both sides of the trail and it caused panic among the younger ones and instant attention from the older.
"Arm yourselves!" Nama called, hill mace in her hand.
The lasses scrambled, surrounding the youngest.
That's when the King's brother rode back to them, his sword in his hand. Trailing him was Beka, who swiftly rode to join her friends, ready to stand beside them.
"I am Kili, Prince of Erebor, Commander of the Guard and Weaponsmaster," he said to them, raising his sword. "Any of you who would join our ranks as warriors—here's your first chance to show me what you bring! There are two cadet classes in the woods around us," he pointed his sword to the north, then to the south. "This is a practice exercise. Do you understand?" He looked around, making certain that they did. "Give it your best, but everyone's heads remain attached." He grinned.
The experienced fighters suddenly brightened. Clearly they were eager.
The inexperienced lasses, Beka included, still looked dubious and fidgeted nervously.
"We will fight with practice weapons," he pointed to a small cart approaching. "Freshly delivered. So stow your blades, ladies, and help yourself to the implement of your choosing and a red arm band, if you please. This identifies you as the target group to the trainees."
"There will be fifty of you," he went on. "Most of you experienced warriors, against sixty of them, all first year trainees." No one questioned the numbers. The experienced Hill lasses obviously felt the trainees would be easy prey.
"Your ponies," he nodded to the trio of leather-clad outpost guard who'd brought the training weapons, "Will be taken ahead with your travel gear."
He waited while they stowed blades and milled about the cart, making selections from the practice weapons and tying armbands on each other. The ponies were tied in a line and led out.
"Your opponents will be wearing black with white arm bands," he told them as they formed up, Hill-style.
"The eastern outpost is your stopping point tonight. It's about one hour," he pointed, "Due west of here at the base of the foothills beside a small lake. That is your goal: reach the outpost with all fifty of your troop."
Nama was grinning.
Kili grinned back. "I understand our trainees have been out hunting…that means a hearty feast awaits. But that kind of feast is best earned! Are you up for it?"
They cheered.
"Any questions?"
He was answered with a resounding "Du Bekar!"
He smiled, honored them with a bow from his saddle, hand on heart. "Let the games begin!" He raised his sword.
In the trees around them, ravens filled the sky. Kili withdrew to the sidelines, turning back in time to see the "ambushed" group looking completely gobsmacked by the silent, swift assault of the combined lad and lass trainees. He spotted Skirfir and Fria, and there—he nudged Fili. Fjalar and a squad of his fellows pounded through, disarming many (but not all) of the older lasses in their first pass.
And then the mock-battle was on the move.
Erebor's King and his best two warriors sat their ponies and watched the melee unfold. They would ride mop-up, keeping an eye out for the accidentally wounded or strays.
The Queen and her children had been escorted on, though the King's young son Gunnar sat in the saddle in front of his father, a pair of practice knives in his hands.
Kili raised an eyebrow at the choice of twin blades.
Fili shrugged and grinned.
Dwalin only had eyes for the young sable-haired lass who was bravely rallying ten other young lasses, all of whom had been quickly disarmed—but only because they had been visibly shocked to find themselves facing a dozen black cladlassestheir own age. They had blinked and stood open mouthed as the Erebor lasses raced through, knocked their weapons right out of their hands, and sprinted on, refusing to engage. Now the Hill girls scrambled to retrieve their practice arms and give chase.
"That's it, lassie," Dwalin murmured, smiling proudly. "On your feet and get going."
Kili held up his palm, and Dwalin reached up as if to slap it, but then clasped it tight instead.
"Sanmal, lads," he said to the brothers. "Perfect way to spend an afternoon. Thank you."
Fili couldn't have been more pleased when he saw fifty exhilarated and exhausted Iron Hills lassies trudging through the gates of the Eastern Outpost an hour before sunset. They were greeted by a double line of Erebor trainees who cheered them as they came in. It had been a good fight and the older Iron Hills warriors had shown all of the youngsters, theirs and his, a thing or two. Fili was pleased to see Nama and her older friends had not lost their fighting edge, and he realized it meant they had kept training in secret despite Stonehelm's edicts.
He stood with Kili, facing them with broad grins as they came in, slapping palms with each one in welcome.
"Barracks to the right; clean yourselves up—that roasting venison is almost ready and we've plenty of ale…" Fili said to them.
The feast was a success, he reflected later. Rustic tables and benches filled the outpost's parade ground, with flickering lanterns strung overhead and a roaring bonfire at the center. A line of tables near the roasting pit offered a wealth of meat, eggs, cheeses, pies, and ale barrels. Everyone was invited to fill up and sit down.
Fili made the rounds, liking nothing better than to see everyone well fed, well-watered, and happy.
He noted that Beka and Fjalar sat first with their friends, but Beka joined Dwalin at the nearby family table when Nÿr brought him out after a much needed nap. Unable to stand it, Fjalar had come over, too. Fili greeted his son with a warm embrace and a few private words. And he smiled to see his son offer the same to his mother. Training was good for the lad, he realized, proud to see him looking more grown up.
And he noticed that some of the Hill lassies were all eyes when they saw Kili greet his beautiful intended Lady Healer with a firm embrace, a showy spin, and a sound kiss that wasn't exactly the chaste variety for public viewing. Nÿr had blushed and laughed, clearly in love with him.
Fili had led the applause.
The Hill lassies hooted their approval.
Lusty wenches, Fili grinned. Maybe there were a dozen of the older ones who'd find themselves an Erebor bachelor, after all. He could see the Eastern Outpost lads sitting tall and taking note. The other lasses were of course, welcome to NOT choose a lad, if they preferred. That was also was a time-honored choice.
Kili and Nÿr joined the family table with full plates, sitting across from him, next to Fjalar.
An sat to his left, and young Beka to his right, secure between him and Dwalin, drinking nothing more potent than fizzy water.
That's when Fili noticed her looking at him with a puzzled expression.
He raised an eyebrow, recognizing that she must have a question. "Shoot," he said, smiling at her.
"If you lived in Erebor and Lady An lived in the hills…how did you even meet?"
"Ah," Dwalin smiled and lifted his ale for a deep drink.
Fjalar looked just as interested.
"Fili heard her singing," Kili said, winking. "That was all it took," he made adone dealgesture with his hands.
"She came to Erebor with a trade caravan," Fili told Beka. "Her father made his fortune off me from cloth and leather…Mahal knows we had a lot of gold back then but not a decent stitch of clothing."
Kili grinned. "And the heat was on for a marriage and an heir," he elbowed Fjalar. "So every time a group of traders rolled in, they seemed to have a pack of ladies along like no one's business."
Fili laughed. "Not that I was all that interested…" he shrugged. "We were under constant threat of war in those days. Place was full of bachelors, though…those ladies had the pick of the lads."
Kili laughed. "Once they figured out they couldn't catchyou."
"So one afternoon I come into the King's Hall," Fili went on. "And this cheeky visiting lass is just standing in there by herself, singing." Fili had hold of his lady wife's hand now. "It was the most beautiful music…I just stood there, listening. When she was done, she told me she couldn't help herself…that she loved Erebor," he shrugged. "All the other lasses loved their hair or their dresses."
An rolled her eyes. "I meant the acoustics. Sound just echoes and resonates with all that stone…"
"All I did was tell her she sang beautifully," Fili said.
An looked around him at Beka. "And I had heard my whole life that singing was a waste of time, that no one wanted to hear it. You know how Hill folk get…"
Beka nodded. She did.
"I liked it," Fili said. "I asked her to sing some more."
"So I did," An smiled. "Until the seventh bell. Then I panicked—I wasn't supposed to be in the hall…I was sure my father would be livid."
Fili held out a hand. "So she started to run off…I didn't even know who she was. I said wait a minute…!"
"I was so afraid I'd be in trouble," An said.
Fili looked at Beka. "And she ran back, grabbed me by my braids, mind you," he pantomimed. "And said, my name is An, and kissed me—full on, just like that. Turned tail and ran." He made a leaving motion with his hand, his expression an echo of the affronted reaction he must have had at the time.
An shrugged. "I was just so thrilled that he liked the music…I really had no idea who he was."
Kili picked up the story. "But your Da's brother, old Balin, had seen it all. After that kiss, he went on a strike while the iron is hot mission…"
"Aye," Dwalin smiled and looked down at his daughter. "That he did."
Fili held up his hands. "Next thing I knew, negotiations had started."
Kili was laughing. "You should have seen his face at the council meeting—bright red…completely flummoxed, like he had no idea how he landed there."
An was laughing, too. "We didn't see each other without a hundred other people in the room for the next two weeks." She sipped her ale.
"Next thing I knew, the ceremonies were over," Fili said, "I had a lady wife, and she wanted to know where the royal suite was."
An set her mug down with a thud. "There wasn't one."
Kili shrugged. "We slept with the guard."
An rolled her eyes. "I had to insist on a bedroom with a bed. Took me a week to get one."
Fili was grinning. "And another month for me to get into it with her."
Kili raised his mug in a silent toast, and everyone, even Beka, raised their drinks and drank deep.
An was laughing. "And all those months later, Fjalar was born and that's when I knew."
Fjalar was grinning.
Beka frowned. "Knew what?"
Iri was trying to crawl into her father's lap. Fili set down his mug and scooped her up and she threw her arms around his neck, her head against his shoulder.
An tilted her head at them. "That he may be a warrior and a King, but he's really just a big pushover for babies."
Fili lifted his mug to lead the toast this time. "To the children of Durin," he said, smiling warmly at Beka's wide eyes and then nodding at his firstborn son. "Erebor's truest wealth."
"Aye," Dwalin echoed, grasping Beka's hand and touching mugs with her.
A little later they retired to the logs and benches around the campfire, well secure inside the walls of the Eastern Outpost.
"What did you sing when he heard you in the hall?" Beka asked An, as they settled.
"Hill songs, of course," she said.
"Nah," Fili said, reclining against a log next to his brother. "That first one was much older. I remember my mother singing it in the Blue Mountains."
"What song?" Nÿr asked. She had settled in front of Kili, snug between his knees, her hands entwined with his.
An stood then, her voice rising clear and strong in the evening air. Nÿr, recognizing the old tune, stood to take up the harmony after two lines.
To everyone's surprise, Nama walked slowly over and joined them, adding a much deeper voice to the song. It was in many ways the lassie's response to the sort of song lads sang when they left on quests. The song of the ones who stayed behind.
Fili noticed Iri and Beka sitting up, their attention riveted on the harmonies.
But he leaned back, closed his eyes and listened, recalling not so much his mother this time as his Uncle Thorin, who loved music and sang well.
He reached for his brother, his hand finding Kili's shoulder.
Kili reached up and gripped his arm.
His kin and kith, Fili reflected, surrounded them in peace, including three Daughters of Durin, young and promising.
Somewhere, he knew, Thorin Oakenshield was smiling down on them tonight.
.
.
.
A/N: I originally wrote posted this story here on Fan Fic in 2014. The fandom was much more active then, of course. I did keep a download of the full original with the chapter notes and pulled out the original A/N for this chapter. Here it is!
Shout out #1 to BlueRiverSteel for her awesome support and a question she posed to me a while back…which inspired the bit of family storytelling in the very last scene.
Shout out #2 to Cassandrala, who PM'd lists of typos and helped me clean up the text. Huge thanks, Cassandrala!
And to the rest of you: I raise a glass.
The art prompt for the last scene is on my Pinterest board (Google: Summer Alden Pinterest Durin's Day…) and it's Quick-KISS! By the artist Axcido on deviantart. (Don't worry, Summer Alden is an alias.)
If you want the musical reference for the last scene, pick your favorite Wailin' Jennys tune. Their vocals (especially the a cappella vocals) feel very dwarfy to me, the female equivalent to the AUJ "Misty Mountains" song sung by Richard Armitage, et al, especially since they add a lower-range female voice. I can imagine Fili leaning back next to the campfire with his eyes closed, listening to the Wailin Jennys sing Bright Morning Stars or Long Time Traveller and being quite deeply moved.
There's a little more to this story, but the next story is waiting for you, and it is titled Warhammers…it is less fluffy and more dire for Kili.
Huge thanks to all of you. You're all so awesome, I can't even say.
Here's a round of virtual ale for all…pull up a log and enjoy! :D
Love, Summer