Chapter Text
Chapter 13
*Mistlynn*
After making a few rounds walking through the Hall of Kings, she had managed to escape the festivities and flee to her room. She knew Sindri wasn’t pleased with her leaving the festivities early either, or that Dis was probably trying to ascertain her whereabouts as well. Just what she needed; her two closest girlfriends irate with her.
She had never been good at making friends, she had been too caught up in her studies as child. Her mother wanted her well read and fluent in Khuzdul, Westron and Silvian. Her mother had also been one of the few Earth Chanters still left in their kingdom, and she had been adamant that she would pass down this gift that had been bestowed to the women in their family. Her mother had told her that her voice was an exceptional blessing from her ancestors; but after her mother's death her father had forbidden it, another thing he found too painful, too much of a reminder of his beloved late wife. All those years of study and discipline she often thought were for nothing.
By the time she was an adult, her people saw her as the princess, the incarnation of her mother, just like her father. She was granted no other identity. Thus, her drive to become a warrior of her own merit and blood. It was all she had that was of her own. Her drive is what allowed her and Argos to survive in that harsh environment of their youth. It was the very sinew of her and Argos relationship, something they both strove to be the best at.
And now, she found herself in danger of losing herself again, lost amongst layers of fine fabrics and decorum. It made her blood run cold, up to this point in time she hadn’t spared one thought about Argos. Amid everything, her new life she had forgotten who she was truly, and why she was still among the living. If it wasn’t for Argos, she wouldn’t even be here, celebrating her engagement to Thorin, experiencing what it was to find her ‘One’.
Argos had been cheated out of that. She found herself wishing Argos could have seen this place, that he could of run away with her instead of assisting her in the Proving; far away from that accursed frost drake that stole his life from him.
She hastily tore the dress from her body, as if it had been the thing suffocating her. She felt the all too familiar clutches of panic closing in around her chest whenever she allowed herself to think of Argos. A feral snarl ripped from her throat as her hands tore at the pins holding up her hair. It cascaded down her back in tangled curls, just as wild as her heart beating in her chest.
In a flurry, she put on her leather leggings, tunic and tightly cinched her corset up. She put up her entangled mess of curls up into a high ponytail then looked up in her vanity mirror to see that the mascara was running down her cheeks. She didn’t even realize silent tears had been streaming down her face. She glared at herself in the mirror, wiping her cheeks with sleeve, not caring that it smeared dark under her eyes. In anger she shoved her boots on, ignoring Luna who was whining at her side.
Thorin, Dis, Fili, Kili and the rest of the company had become her family and closest friends. She even had a relationship with Dwalin, and that was not an easy thing to accomplish. So much had changed, so quickly, in such a short amount of time. So, when she saw Fili and Kili that morning bickering amongst themselves, she felt the abrupt stab in her gut. It was the precursor that set her off before their engagement party. She fought with her hands, not her words. Arming herself to the teeth with Fili’s extra daggers had giving her a shallow comfort before Dis had unknowingly stripped her bare. All that was left were her ghosts and insecurities. Argo’s face flashed in her mind; of the last time she saw him alive. The guilt rose so quickly it was becoming overpowering. How can she move on so freely as if he never existed?
She needed to get these emotions out, it was simmering under her skin like boiling water. Propriety be damned. She would deal with Dis and Thorin’s disappointment later.
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**Thorin**
In typical dwarven fashion, the celebration was still going strong. He walked through the crowd, his eyes constantly scanning, trying to catch a glimpse of Mistlynn’s sparkling peridot eyes or her platinum river of curls. Sindri explained that she had needed to get some air, that she was simply overwhelmed and that she would return promptly. That had been over an hour ago, and now he was fighting to keep his growing concern under a calm mask.
He had Fili, Kili, Nori, Bifur and Dwalin searching for her inconspicuously. He didn’t want to encourage any gossip of drama so soon in the engagement of the King and his betrothed. He really detested how his personal life and that of his family was the life blood of all gossip in the dwarven kingdoms.
Bifur came up behind him and gently touched his arm. Thorin spun around quickly to face him. Bifur was skilled at communicating with utmost discretion and was able to inform the concerned king that his fiancé was found in the empty training arena by his nephews and Dwalin, and that they were keeping an eye on her until he was able to get there. Thorin closed his eyes for a brief moment and let out a long-suffering sigh. “Let Dis know and tell her to tell Dain and Sindri that she has been found. I’ll go to her now.”
He made a clean exit from the hall and quickened his pace to the training arena. It was alarming how quickly her mood had changed. It was as if a certain panic had set in after her and Dis’s exchange only to be fanned by her introduction to Thranduil. He knew she was spirited and accepted that part of her wholeheartedly. But her mood swings were making him anxious; and her reaction to meeting the Elf King was troubling.
He knew she had feared his and his people’s reaction about her mixed heritage, but would she know anything about Thranduil and his history with Erebor and his grandfather? Tauriel had taken an immediate liking to her, and not once did it seem they would be prejudiced against her, much like most of Erebor. It had taken a lot of work and pride to be swallowed for them to be on amicable terms and co-exist as neighboring kingdoms. Did she not trust him to keep her safe? His gut twisted at the thought.
He thought they had established a good foundation finally, their start had been rough, but he had thought they were of one mind now. She had not come to him with any concerns as he had asked her to. Sindri had stated that she had been overwhelmed, making the guilt eat further away at him. He had failed her by just assuming all was going well, he should have known better considering all that she was having to learn in such a short time span. He was such fool! His molars ground together in self-loathing as his jaw clenched. He would not be making that mistake again, he would not lose her to his short sightedness.
As he approached the main arena he saw Fili, Kili and Dwalin leaning against the main archway, hiding themselves from the sight of anyone on the grounds. Yells and grunts of anger echoed around him as he approached, his footsteps alerting his kin of his presence. They turned to him, all with concern written on their faces.
“She’s been at It for a while already.” Fili murmured; his tone laced with worry.
Kili just shook his head. “We didn’t want to spook her. Figured you would be the best one to talk to her.” He whispered as he looked at his uncle sadly.
“Thank you.” He nodded, voice a low grumble as his eyes were transfixed on Mistlynn’s lithe figure attacking the practice dummy with a blunted staff. With surprising deftness, she twirled it about her with blinding precision.
Blurred circles surrounded her like shields as she weaved the staff in her hands before landing a shattering blow against her cushioned wooden target. A yell filled with rage and exertion escaped through her gritted teeth before she flipped backwards effortlessly, staff still held tightly in her hand before she landed in a precise crouch. Her eyes were closed as she began her complex routine again with the staff.
“I had n idea tha she was more than able of defendin ‘erself.” Dwalin grunted as he shook his head. “This I wasn’ expect’n. I havena seen tha likes of tha afore.”
“They didn’t have the resources we have for weapons. They saved them for hunting purposes only. They learned hand to hand combat for fighting.” Thorin stated, his voice low and distant with distraction as he watched her move about.
“It’s incredible. I’ve never seen a staff used as a weapon like that.” Kili was in awe, yet the worry still shown through his eyes.
“Fili, Kili. Return to the party, keep our guests entertained. I appreciate your discretion.” Thorin’s voice was deep and firm as he started to shrug off his heavy formal jacket.
“Of course, Irak’nadad.” Fili reply was brisk as he inclined his head respectfully. Kili followed suit, albeit more reluctantly than his brother. “Come brother.” Fili encouraged, letting Kili see that he was just as concerned as he was, but trusted their Uncle to take of her, as it should rightfully be.
Thorin removed his crown from his head and handed it to Dwalin for safe keeping. “Make sure no one disturbs us aye?”
Dwalin nodded briskly. “Aye.”
Thorin, now only left in his dark blue tunic and embossed black leather vest, stepped up towards the arena edge. He grabbed another staff that was leaning against the wall next to wooden sparring swords and ducked swiftly into the ring.
Mistlynn was so wrapped up in her mediative movements, channeling all her anger, frustrations, and sorrows into a force to be reckoned with. Detecting movement at her peripheral, she launched herself into a defensive strike, only for her staff to be met with firm deflection, the other staff stopping hers unyieldingly. She found herself looking into Thorin’s stormy eyes. She blinked, surprise and embarrassment contorting her expression before she stepped back, staff hanging loosely at her side.
“I apologize. I didn’t realize it was you.” She was breathing heavily, both with exertion and raw emotion.
She found herself trying to get angry at the worry that was shining in his eyes. “What is troubling you M’eudail?” His voice was soothing.
She shook her head. “No Thorin. I don’t want to do this right now. I don’t want to talk.” She seethed, as she clenched her eyes shut, willing the burning tears back down.
He recognized and understood the turmoil that was flowing through her like a torrential tide. He took a deep breath while he rolled his shoulders and neck in preparation. “Very well.” Came his reply.
Her bottom lip quivered slightly. She was chasing him away with her childishness, with her incompetence in dealing with this grief she couldn’t seem to shake. But she couldn’t find the strength within her to fight it back down at that moment. “Thorin, I…”
“Resume your stance.” Came a cold command, jarring her in its suddenness. Her eyes flew open, and she looked up. She no longer saw love and tenderness in his eyes. They were now cold and calculating. The mighty Thorin Oakenshield, Battle-scarred Warrior and Conquering King of Erebor stood before her, unforgiving and steadfast in his stance. His big, strong hands held his staff at his side, at the ready. His muscular body was flexed, at the ready for their spar. She was in shock. He was going to spar with her.
“We don’t have all night.” He growled darkly. “Engage or step down.”
She closed her mouth, which had been hanging open slightly in surprise. She nodded stiffly as she took a deep breath and took the proper stance.
They stared each other down for a moment, daring each other silently to take strike first. Her knuckles were turning white as she gripped her staff hard. He was unnerving her, as he stood as still as a statue. Her nose flared as she moved quickly in an aggressive offensive attack. He met her blow for blow, his face indifferent as he deflected her strikes with ease. He didn’t seem phased as he deflected her attacks, She was used to her sparring partner to be as equal in their fervor as she. It was unnerving how calm he was, his eyes boring into her as if able to see every move she was planning to make before she even made it.
It was quick, his swift change of technique and she found herself on the defensive against his calculated blows. Her bones were being rattled with each blow. She gritted her teeth in stubborn resolution. She pushed back, hard, and lethal. She was using her small, quick frame to her distinct advantage.
She landed a couple blows, but he brushed them off with relative ease. His calm and clear headedness was the advantage he had over her. It was a bitter realization for her as she found herself on her back, wheezing as the air was knocked out of her lungs. She had attempted a powerful kick along with a swipe of her staff, but instead he anticipated her move, caught her foot with his hand as he swiped her remaining foot out from underneath her to land hard on her back.
She blinked in surprise as she fought to regain her breath. No one had ever managed to catch and deflect that combo. She had always been too fast for them to catch it until they were seeing stars while lying on their backs.
“Again.” His deep voice thundered around her. She fought to keep her face from turning red, as rage and embarrassment flooded throughout her. No, she would not let it show, she had to prove her worth to him. Taking a deep breath, she arched her back and braced herself on the staff she still clutched tightly in her hands. She sprung quickly from her hands and back onto her feet in a defensive crouch, the staff spinning deftly in her hand into position behind her, as if winding herself up for her next attack.
His expression remained passive as he slowly circled her, the intensity of his gaze upon her unfaltering. Frustration rippled through her as she launched herself into another offensive attack. Once again, he deflected and evaded her with ease. It surprised her how fast he was, how graceful he moved around her. The ability he had to hone in on her weak spots was infuriating. As the minutes accumulated, she could already feel the dark bruises forming on her torso, legs, and arms in spots she had left open for him to strike.
Her muscles began to burn with exertion, but her emotions were still running raw and hot. She was starting to get frustrated as her attacks became more inept than usual. She managed to deflect his staff and distract him momentarily; and she seized her chance to try to disarm him. She didn’t realize until she found herself spinning through the air that he had once again anticipated her attack and used her momentum against her. She hit the ground hard, and her staff shot out of her outstretched hand, skidding across the dirt away from her. She coughed as dust billowed up around her, filling her mouth, nose, and eyes with the gritty taste of defeat.
“You are allowing your anger to fuel you.” His voice was stern and even. He didn’t sound like he even broke a sweat sparring with her. She couldn’t help but cringe at the disappointment she imagined laced his words. “It makes you predictable, no matter your strength your enemy will see it and take advantage.”
Something between a gasp and a cough escaped through her clenched teeth as she rolled onto her stomach slowly, one arm wrapped protectively around her stomach while her other hand dug into the dirt underneath her shoulder and shakily pushed herself up until she was on her knees. She stared at the dirt in front of her as she breathed heavily, the anger that had been running rampant in her veins finally dosed in the bitterness of her loss, both current and past. His boots came into her view, making her shut her eyes tightly. It had been a while since she had been so thoroughly beaten in a spar. She had forgotten the taste of it, sour and bitter on her tongue, making her swallow thickly.
She had hoped that this would have chased away the pain and guilt eating away at her inside, but the hollowness of this failure only added to it. Argos’s face flashed in her head, his expression frozen in fear and pain. A sob caught in her throat as she fought desperately to compose herself. She heard him sigh heavily as he kneeled before her. Not unlike that time in the throne room when he forced her to look at him; he lifted her chin with his hand, his fingers lightly caressing her chin and jaw.
“Talk to me.” His tone was gentle but left no room for argument. “I can’t help you with your battles if you don’t let me in.”
Mistlynn hated how her laugh came out shaky. “I just panicked. I feel better now.”
“Mistlynn.” Her name rolled off his lips in an exasperated sigh. “We’ve just sparred for the better part of an hour. That was anger, not panic.”
Mistlynn pushed herself to her feet, ignoring her protesting muscles. “I’m angry with myself Thorin. I destroy everything I come across!” She spat irately, looking everywhere else but at him as he stood up and tried to maintain eye contact with her. “Where should I start? Which failure should I mention first? I need to apologize to Dis for my disrespect. A slap in the face would have been better than the heinous attitude I gave her! I’ve embarrassed you and I have shamed Argos memory! I have dishonored his sacrifice. And the one thing I was supposed to be good at, sparring, fighting, combat? You just wiped the ring with my pathetic arse like a damned trainee! Bloody right I am angry! .” She let out a curse as she felt her lower lip tremble with searing emotion threatening to spill from her eyes.
Since when did she become such an unstable child? She couldn’t bring herself to look at him, standing all solid and perfect before her. She was such a disappointment to Argos and the strong warrior that stood before her, who was listening patiently to her crazed ramblings. Mahal, he deserved better than her! She put her hands on her hips as she tilted her head up towards the rock cavern ceiling, fighting to get her rampant emotions under control.
She could feel his body heat as he stood before her, unnervingly silent after her little outburst. “Not to mention, I’m confident that Thranduil has knowledge of my family, and where I really come from. And I lied to him, like an imbecile. So that’s just the frosting of the big giant shite cake I’ve baked for myself.”
“Is that all?” Came his unimpressed question. She breathed in sharply. For Aule’s sake, she couldn’t handle his smart ass at this moment.
“I didn’t ask you to follow me here.” She growled as she started to take a step back, away from him.
“Mahal woman, I didn’t mean it like that.” He sighed as he grabbed ahold of her arm and pulled her back to him. “Will you quit being so bloody stubborn and look at me?”
She felt his hand cup her face, his touch loving. “I know this is a lot, and that its overwhelming. But the only thing you’re losing yourself to is your own thoughts. You are your worst enemy at this very moment.” He watched a lone tear escape her eye and trickled down her cheek. He brushed it away with his thumb gently. “Dis isn’t cross with you. She understands more than you think she does. If you can’t confide in me, seek her out. She wants to help you.”
Mistlynn let out a defeated huff between her trembling lips. “I know she does. I value her more than what words can express.”
“Regarding Argos. I highly doubt you have shamed his memory. You are a force to be reckoned with Kurdunuh. You would have been harder to disarm if it wasn’t for your emotions blinding you.” His voice was low and soothing as he searched her gaze. His brows furrowed in worry as she gasped, and more tears escaped beneath her eyelashes as she clenched her eyes shut.
“I’m not though Thorin.” She gasped as her body began to tremble. “I was his big sister, and I couldn’t keep him safe, not when it really mattered. He is dead because of me. And I haven’t even thought about him this entire time I’ve been here in Erebor. Not really. How can I move on, and be happy when he is dead? My baby brother dead because I couldn't keep a cool head when it mattered most?”
She felt Thorin step closer to her and place both his hands upon the sides of her face. “Mistlynn, look at me.” It was more a plea than command. She shook her head. “I can’t. I can’t bear to look into your eyes when I tell you the whole truth. It will break me to see the disappointment in your eyes.” Her voice shook as if she had been plunged into a lake of ice.
Thorin pulled her into a tight embrace. “Nothing you can say will change how I feel for you. Nothing.” His whispered words spoken so lovingly into her hair finally broke the dam and she gave in to the suppressed grief she had been hiding. Her body shook as she gave in to the violent sobs that wracked her. He held her firmly in his arms, supporting her fully as she clung to him. His heart ached as he felt the grief pour out from deep within her. At a loss, he began to rub her back soothingly, occasionally pressing a kiss to the top of her head as he rocked her gently in his embrace. He lost track of time as he held her close, and her sobs lessened and her trembling subsided.
Little did he know, his steady heartbeat grounded her. She sniffed as she nuzzled further into his neck and breathed him in. She couldn't remember the last time she felt so safe in someone’s arms. It was now or never.
“I should have scouted the drake before I led them out on the Proving. I never should have blindly trusted the task to someone else.” Her voice was quiet, but the ceased movement of his hands let her know that he had heard her.
She swallowed and pressed on. “But I didn’t. I trusted Valinn’s scout. I thought it was going to be like every other Proving, hunting and harvesting an adolescent drake that had been previously scouted. Except this time, it was one of the biggest, most ferocious Frost Drake’s I had ever come across.” She shuddered, and Thorin tightened his arms around her in response.
“It was too late to turn back. We had no choice but to fight, otherwise he would’ve hunted and killed us all. So, it was Argos and I with a couple other seasoned warriors and five inexperienced warriors in training.” Thorin felt his stomach drop and tighten in dread. “We soon realized the ropes attached to our grappling arrows had been severed. All of them. We couldn’t tie down its wings, or its legs and tail. Most were killed within minutes from its tail and talons. Soon, it was only Argos and I left. With our useless arrows and swords.” Her breath shuddered at the painful memory.
“Frost Drakes don’t breathe fire. They breathe out a stream of a cold so harsh it will freeze a living being instantly.” He felt more tears soak his tunic. “I tried shooting it in the eyes, attempting to blind him. My foot fell through the ice, it was cracking all around us. Argos pushed me out of the way. I didn’t fully understand what h-happened until I turned around and s-saw his f-face.” She sobbed. “I could see the fear on his face. He was frozen, and s-so blue. His f-fear was j-just there, f-f-frozen on his face. H-his lips were so b-blue, he w-was j-just f-frozen t-there s-staring at m-me.”
He closed his eyes; he could feel her pain radiating from her. He couldn’t even begin to imagine seeing a loved one frozen like that with their last expression evident on their face; he couldn’t think of anything that could soothe the anguish she was feeling. He continued to hold her, rub her back, and listen. Her body shuddered, and her breathing changed, from anguish to a simmering rage.
“That vile worm shattered him, breaking him as if he was nothing more than some old pottery.” She seethed. “So, I screamed, and I sliced his one wing with my swords, and I jumped on his neck, and I started to stab him. I stabbed his eyes, his head, his neck. I just kept stabbing until he wasn’t moving anymore.” Her shaking stopped and she went still in his arms. “I was the only one left. Everyone else was dead but me. I couldn't face my father, he had already lost my mother when she gave birth to Argos, I couldn’t face him and tell him that he had died saving me. I couldn’t face Valinn and his arrogance. He would say it should have been me. Not Argos. Me.”
He now understood why he had recognized the pain he first saw in her eyes and could relate it to his own pain that he battled daily.
It struck him as odd that so much had gone wrong with a tradition that had lasted generations in a nation of people who were proficient with slaying frost drakes, and her brother Valinn sounded like a real piece of work. But now was not the time to state his concern, she wasn’t in the right presence of mind to discuss such matters.
He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, shifting her so that he could move his hand under her chin and make her look up at him. “It was out of your control Mistlynn. You all fought valiantly, and your brother had the most honorable death a warrior could ever hope for, protecting his loved one until his last breath. He would not want you punishing yourself like this.”
Mistlynn bit the inside of her cheek, fighting the retort she wanted to throw back at him. She knew he lost his own brother in battle, and she knew deep down he was right. “How do I stop?” she whispered, not sure if she wanted to hear the answer.
Thorin sighed. “I’m probably not the best to ask since I tend to do the same thing. Some days are better than others. But I can say with absolute certainty that I have bought myself more trouble clinging to the past, holding myself responsible for things I couldn’t control. I’ve had to humble myself on many instances when I was finally able to let go and accept that what’s done is done. There is no going back, we can only move forward.”
She nodded stiffly. “It scares me how quickly you have come to mean everything to me. You, your family, your friends are my world. I only had that with Argos, my father was so distant and lost in his pain and Valinn always saw me as a threat. What I feel for you terrifies me. I can’t even begin to put it into words.”
Thorin nodded as he absorbed her words. “I can understand how that can be overwhelming. Its why I tried to keep you at a distance for so long. I saw what losing their One did to my father and Dis, to let you in fully into my heart just to lose you in some way, like I have lost everyone else, except it would be worse. I love you more than life itself, it would destroy me.”
Mistlynn looked back up at him in surprise, her eyes shining with tears. She couldn’t bring herself to say it back, not yet. “I feel like a petulant child, here I am crying about losing my brother, and you have just laid bare everything to me, unafraid.”
“I’m old that’s why. And growing softer by the day apparently.” He deflected, hiding the hurt of her not returning any declaration of love herself. He knew she wasn’t ready, that she was still battling with herself, but it didn’t make the sting any less. “I’ve even grown fond of that fleabag that has taken up residence in my kingdom like some lapdog. Despite her ridiculous shedding.”
Mistlynn laughed weakly as she wiped the tears from her face. “You’re not old! Stop saying that!” She leaned back against him, relaxing as she felt his chuckle vibrate through his chest.
He leaned his head against hers, kissing her forehead gently. “Please let me know when you are needing to talk, about anything M’eudail. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s bothering you.” He felt her nod into his chest.
“I’m not used to having someone to confide in Thorin. But I will try to.”
“That’s all I ask.” He murmured softly as he stared off into the shadows where he knew Dwalin was keeping watch. He wasn’t oblivious to the fact they still had a long way to go in establishing their relationship, and she wasn’t going to make it easy.
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*Mistlynn*
The next morning, she awoke just as the first tendrils of sunlight gave chase to the night. This was the first official day as Erebor’s future queen, and her day was not for the faint of heart. She sighed heavily as she rolled onto her back, staring up at the dark canopy of her bed. She had to face Dis first and foremost, as she was to shadow the princess and learn. She felt as if there was a stone in her stomach. She still had to apologize to her friend for her callous words the night prior.
Thorin had assured her that Dis would be generous with her forgiveness and understanding. He had calmed the raging storm in her soul and chased away most of the cold shadows of doubts that had begun to suffocate her newfound happiness. But it was not lost on her how daunting the path was that now lay before her as his fiancé, as his very proudly proclaimed ‘One’. And in order to face the vicious backstabbing noble dams of the court that just found out they no longer had a chance to catch the heart of the King, she needed Dis on her side.
A sharp knock interrupted her dreadful musings, announcing Dis’s arrival before the door flew open.
“Rise and shine wildling.” Dis sauntered in cheerfully, her hair and makeup already done up with simple elegance.
Mistlynn sighed. “Good morning, Dis. I am sorry I disappeared on you last night.”
Dis nodded in acknowledgment before she shooed Luna off the foot of the bed, tutting in mock disgust at the hair the wolf left on the blankets. “One would think that creature would be bald with how much fur I find of hers left about.” It was obvious Thorin had already talked to her, as he had promised to do first thing.
Mistlynn giggled as she watched Dis lay the dress across the chest on the foot of her bed instead. She silently chastised herself for being so nervous to apologize to Dis. Here she was trying to get her ready herself when she could have just sent in a handmaiden, but she knew that it made her uncomfortable, so she went out of her way to help her. “Dis. I just want to tell you how sorry I am for my wickedness last night. You have done nothing but help and look out for me, you didn’t deserve my appalling attitude. I need to find a better way to cope with my nervousness.”
Dis stopped fussing with the dress and looked over at Mistlynn, with a small smile on her face. “I know you didn’t mean any disrespect. I’d rather you speak your mind with me than anyone else. I don’t want your sharp tongue making your transition here harder than it must be. I just want the utmost happiness for you and my brother.”
Mistlynn nodded, tucking in her wild curls behind her dainty ears to the best of her ability. “I know Dis. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
Dis let out a very unladylike snort. “You would still be dancing around your feelings for my brother, rather ungracefully I might add, if it wasn’t for me. Not to mention all the ruckus and mayhem you would cause!”
They both laughed at the accuracy of the statement. “I won’t even try to deny it. Poor Balin would have kicked me out already!” Mistlynn giggled as she rolled out of bed to give Dis a hug of gratitude. Dis hugged her back with a warmth only a sister could give.
“We have a long day ahead. And I must show you how us Durin women arm ourselves for the onslaught of the great passive aggression of Erebor’s court!”
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Later that evening…
“Dis, please! Have mercy!”
“We are almost there for the love of Mahal Mist!”
“Mahal surely must not wish for my feet to fall off.”
“You're supposed to be a tough warrior! At the rate you’re carrying on I’m inclined to think you were exaggerating your prowess.”
“I don’t give a wizard’s teeth! I’m taking them off!”
“We are almost to the sitting room. Have some self-respect woman!”
“It’s an act of disrespect to keep these infernal shoes on after a day of prattling and kissing a...”
“Don’t even think of finishing that sentence! Durin’s beard! That filthy mouth of yours is going to start a war one of these days!”
“I certainly hope so! I would love to see how those featherbrained twit’s fight!”
“With your hot head and quick tongue? How ever shall you lose?”
The royal sitting room door was opened abruptly before Dis could reach for the door handle. Balin was on the other side, his bushy white eyebrows disappearing into his snowy hairline. “Ladies.” He greeted, his amused smirk letting them know that he heard everything.
Dis let out a longsuffering sigh as she walked through the door, Mistlynn following with an exaggerated limp in her step. Balin chuckled lightly, shaking his head as he shut the door.
“I thought it was apparent for you to bring her back unharmed?” Thorin chuckled as he stood up from his seat at the table where a bunch of paperwork was laid out.
“She acts like she’s the only dam who has to suffer through wearing appropriate court shoes.” Dis sniffed in annoyance as she walked up to the couch nearest to the hearth.
“Why any dam in her right mind would choose to wear these infernal torture devices is beyond me.” Mistlynn groaned in relief as she kicked off the offending shoes, immensely enjoying the feel of the plush carpet cushioning her sore feet.
“Are any of us truly in our right mind?” Fili was kicked back in his seat at the table. “Who does letter writing and paperwork after supper and still claim to be sane?”
“Pretty sure we were considered mad after we left Ered Luin to claim Erebor back from a bloodthirsty dragon.” Kili chuckled as he attempted to fold a birdlike creature from an extra piece of parchment.
“And here we are, the victors without an inkling of sanity left.” Thorin smiled as he took Mistlynns hand and raised it to his lips, kissing her knuckles gently as he gave her a playful look.
Mistlynn giggled. “Being sane is frightfully dull, I would rather us all have fun being insane together.”
Dis threw her head back and laughed. “There is no shortage of insanity in this family let me assure you!” She sent a pointed look over her shoulder towards her sons who both had mischievous grins on their faces.
Mistlynn settled next to Dis on the couch so that Thorin could return to his paperwork, eager to have a comforting cup of hot tea she had grown addicted to. She accepted the cup Dis prepared her and savored the spice of cinnamon and clove that warmed her inside and out.
“Now is the perfect time for us to work on how to use a fan.” Dis smiled teasingly as she looked at Mistlynn over the brim of her teacup. She chuckled at Mistlynns exaggerated eyeroll.
“I will not argue with you on that.” Mistlynn sighed. “I just didn’t use one so that I wouldn’t make an utter fool of myself in front of the GENTLE LADIES.”
Dis couldn’t help but snort into her teacup at her friends emphasized drawl, which in turn made her brother, sons and Balin look up from their tedious task in surprise.
‘You hush.” She couldn’t help but chuckle as she fought to regain some semblance of seriousness. “Now it’s all about the wrist. Just a nice subtle flick of the wrist like so.” She demonstrated with a practiced ease; her beautiful Durin’s blue silk fan opened gracefully.
Mistlynn gripped her fan tightly in her hand, determined to get his simple action down. She had been jealous of everyone’s fans earlier that day, the late summer heat had been a little taxing on her. Her first attempt was jerky and clumsy, making her growl in frustration.
“You're overthinking it my dear.” Dis soothed. “Here, just flick your wrist like this. Don’t grip it so tightly.”
Mistlynn nodded, her lips pressed in determination. “Flick.” She muttered to herself encouragingly as she prepared. She loosened her grip and snapped her wrist with a determined force, not realizing that she snapped her wrist with more force than necessary. With her loosened grip, the fan subsequently went flying from her hand and over her shoulder, smacking Fili in the nose before crashing into the inkwell, sending dark tendrils of ink splattering all over Balin and Thorin. The dwarf king blinked in surprise before he looked down, realizing that ink was now running down the edge of the table and pooling into his lap.
A brief stunned silence followed. Mistlynn slowly looked over her shoulder and took in the carnage of her projectile fan. Her eyes grew wide as she saw Fili gripping his nose in shock as Thorin, with his ink splattered face, held his arms up as he pushed away from the table while looking down at his ink-soaked tunic and pants. Kili had been in the middle of taking a drink of his wine and couldn’t help but sputter and choke as he fought the urge to laugh.
She gasped as she jumped up and ran around the couch towards them. “Oh, Fili I am so sorry! I didn’t mean…I didn’t know…Oh no I ruined your parchment!” Her eyes moved from Fili over to Thorin in horror. She rushed to grab a napkin from the tea tray and rushed back to her fiancé.
“I am so sorry Thorin. Here, let me help.” She pleaded, embarrassment making her face flush scarlet. She reached towards him with a shaking hand clutching the napkin tightly.
He quickly grabbed her wrist before she could reach his ink-stained legs. “Its best that I do that.” His voice was low as he gave her a pointed look. She looked at his quizzically before it dawned on her where she was about to start rubbing the napkin and her blush became a deeper shade of crimson. “I am so sorry I didn’t realize…” She trailed off as she looked past Thorin over to Balin, who was attempting to rub the black ink spots that peppered his white beard.
She wanted to melt into the floor. She couldn't believe her fan wreaked such havoc. “I should go now.” She mumbled. What an end to an already epically awkward day.
Kili was losing the fight of controlling his laughter. “Oh Mist, you just made my night!” he wheezed. “Only you could make a fan lethal.”
“Lethal is right! You gave me a bloody nose!” Fili snickered, his tone nasally and muffled as he held a napkin to his nose.
“It wasn’t on purpose! I was just trying to flick it open!” She protested, still visibly upset as she looked at Dis imploringingly, only to find her friend hunched over with her hands covering her face as her shoulders shook with silent laughter.
“This is not funny Dis! This is exactly why I didn’t use one during our luncheon today!” Her voice shook frustration as laughter erupted around her. “Oh, why are you all laughing this is so embarrassing! I can’t even open a stupid fan!”
Thorin’s laughter was deep and rumbling as he attempted to scrub his face clean, having given up cleaning his soaked pants. “I can only imagine the carnage of broken pottery and tea-stained gowns you would have left in your wake.” His eyes were twinkling in mirth and fondness as he looked upon her flustered face.
She shot him an exasperated look. “I would rather it be Lady Miriam’s beaked snoz and lavender gown accosted by my poor fan wielding skills than your paperwork and pants and Fili’s poor face!”
The laughter in the room intensified at her petulant remark.
“Beaked snoz?!” Kili wheezed painfully as tear ran down his cheeks. Balin couldn’t help the laugh that erupted from his lips as he turned and walked away, fighting to contain his amusement at the accurate description of that particular Dam they all knew too well.
“My poor face?!” Fili teased as he touched his nose gingerly.
“You know full well what I meant Fili! I am so glad you all are getting so much enjoyment out of my complete failure as a lady.” Mistlynn sniffed as she folded her arms across her chest defensively. “I don’t find this the least bit funny!”
Thorin was still laughing as he managed to pull her into his arms. He placed a chaste, loving kiss on her pursed lips. “Never change M’eudail. I would despair if you did.” He whispered against her lips, in turn making her melt in his arms.